Part III. Abandoned

Slowly regaining strength, and promising Jack and Sayid that she wouldn't leave the hatch alone or walk far, Shannon needed to get up. She appreciated what Jack had done for her – literally saved her life. He was worn out and looked almost as bad as she figured she did.

Sayid was overprotective as usual, constantly trying to comfort her and prevent her from exhausting herself. Honestly, she was getting exhausted from his coddling and didn't want to hurt his feelings by telling him.

She had asked to be alone for a while, telling them both she was going to clean up in the shower – and she could take care of herself.

Her entire upper body was so sore and her lower body so cramped she could barely move. She kept her back to the water to protect her injured chest, and the massaging water pressure actually soothed her. She got out only when the water had run completely cold, and grabbed an oversized towel to wrap carefully around her shoulders.

Shannon knew she had been shot and she was lucky to be alive. She didn't remember the girl who had shot her, having only a split second glimpse of her through the rain. She assumed the other castaways had understood and forgiven the trigger-happy girl, though, for the accident. They were good people. And would they have cared that much even if she had died? All she ever did was sulk and cry.

No one besides Sayid ever really talked to her, or asked her for help. Not really. The people on the island had abandoned her just like everyone before, and it was her fault.

This was supposed to be her new life. She wasn't going to be remembered – or not remembered – that way. She wasn't going to let that happen. She wanted to be the first one to forgive Trigger.

Just as soon as Jack and Sayid stopped being all mother hen and let her out of the stupid hatch.

Now that she thought about it, she didn't even recognize this part of the hatch. She had only gone into it once out of curiosity – actually more boredom than curiosity – knowing that she would soon have to take a shift pushing Locke's stupid button for no stupid reason. The place gave her the creeps for some reason she couldn't quite put her finger on. Not that she'd say anything. Everyone would just roll their eyes and think, Listen to that useless bitch – she'll say anything just to get out of having to work!

Or maybe she was biased since that freak of nature, Locke, had taken such an obvious interest in it.

She mentally shrugged Locke off, and inspected the rest of the "bathroom" area. Then immediately decided it wasn't such a good idea, detecting a large mirror along the wall.

"Damn it!" she hissed, disgustedly noting the dark circles under her eyes, the gaunt skin stretched across face, and worst of all, the stitched up gash across her left rib, emphasized by a large, ugly albeit very colorful bruise that indicated excessive bleeding.