Chapter 18 – The Crash

The flight continued like all flights continue – monotonous, cramped, air so dry it makes your hair, no matter how expensive your blowout is, frizz out. Shannon and Boone hadn't really spoken much, much to the joy of the girl, who expressed her relief by turning up her Avril Lavigne full blast. Great. Now Shannon not only had to deal with Boone's random glowering glances, she also had to deal with the obvious strains of wannabe punk guitar riffs.

In comparison to the girl, Boone seemed to be a much more appealing person, so Shannon, bored with her magazine, decided to take a little nap – after all, she was hung over in addition to being exhausted. She wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder softly, and shifted so that she was deeper into the crook of his neck. As she drifted off, she felt herself tickling his neck with her fingers, combing through the lower part of his hair with her nails, subtly so he didn't seem to think she was doing it on purpose. Stretching, she murmured, "Boone," and finally drifted off.

She slept surprisingly deeply, but she hadn't slept well in such a long time, and leaning on Boone's shoulder precariously turned out to be more comfortable than in a bed wrapped in Brian's unnaturally large limbs. And try as she might, she couldn't quite bring herself not to dream of Boone. The expression of pure determination and desperation on his face last night when he had forced himself to move inside of her again… how she felt after - cold, alone, sated only by the rhythmic sound of his breathing… years ago, her father hitting a 12-year-old Boone in a drunken rage, but Boone hadn't ran away to protect himself, he had grabbed Shannon, her long blonde hair flying, and held her close to him so he wouldn't hit Shannon as well… a random April night in her senior year, she had pressed him into her closet door, dark and strewn with clothes, she was tugging down his boxers, sliding down him and… explaining to him after Emily left that they had to stop… wrapped around her at her father's funeral, letting her tears flow openly… whispering Shannon late at night into her chest… Shannon's eyes opened as she sensed a slight bought of turbulence, and suddenly the little guitar guy squeezed past her rudely. "Excuse me!" She said, a hitch in her breath. How dare that little hobbit rush past her like he was someone special! He kept walking down the aisle, ignoring her, and then Shannon felt another bump on the ride. She sucked her breath in, and instinctively grabbed his hand, chorusing to herself in her head, nothing's going to happen, nothing's going to happen. But as the bumps quickened and became more aggressive, she had a sudden realization that something actually was going to happen. A resounding, fierce bought of turbulence passed through the plane again as it dipped crookedly to one side. "Boone," she whispered hoarsely in fright.

"It's okay," his eyes were closed tightly, and he seemed incredibly unconvinced as the plane took another twist to the left. Everything was blurring around her and somewhere distant she heard…

"Please prepare for an emergency… emergency – " But the pilot's voice faltered, everyone's voices faltered, everything was dizzy and echoing and yelling. She didn't have time to recover from the shock as the plane shook more violently now. Suddenly, the only words running through her head were crash, crash, crash.

Those yellow masks dropped down, Shannon grabbed one, but Boone was already there, fastening it around her face. She craned her neck to the side, and there was the girl, sitting in complete shock, and before Shannon could tell her to watch out, a huge suitcase flew out of the compartment, hitting her on the face, narrowly missing Shannon, and it toppled the girl, Meagan, out of her seat. Shannon screamed, but no one could hear as the plane shifted violently and suddenly, she felt cold air from behind her and noticed in complete, utter horror that the entire back of the plane had just blown off! The plane dipped, turned, toiled, and it was falling, she gripped the seat, she held onto the armrest, she seized his hand, but it was no use, and pretty soon she was fumbling on the floor, wondering wildly where Boone was, if he was okay, if he was passed out just like that girl.

She was in such shock, such complete fear, and she could feel air whizzing by her ears as the plane started falling, and she could feel it declining as the pressure pulled at her skin, her hair blowing in all directions, the air sending a cold wind around the cabin of the plane. Shannon's eyes filled with tears, and she realized that death was an extreme possibility. "Oh god…" she cried, "Oh god…" Her breathing started to get a little rough, and she wheezed in fright. Not right now, not right now. She tried to control her asthma as tears ran down her cheeks. She feverishly reached into her pocket, and located the inhaler… you can do this, you can do this, she told herself. She breathed into the inhaler three times, and as she noticed someone finally hoisting open the emergency exit, she felt her breathing become more regular. She crawled across the floor, looking for Boone but not seeing him anywhere. What if he was stuck somewhere and was going to die? Shannon crawled across the practically vertical floor and to the door of the plane, but then, with a resounding crack, clank, and hundreds of screeches, the plane banged to the ground. Luckily, they hit a fairly smooth surface, and Shannon had been hanging onto a piece of the plane so her body hadn't been too injured. She did notice a slight throbbing crick in her neck, however.

A few people began to stir, and struggled to crawl from inside the claustrophobic area. There were bodies on the floor, some dead, some simply unconscious, and Shannon felt nauseous as she noticed that the girl who had been sitting near them was completely immobilized. She heard other pieces of the plane crashing to the ground in all areas, and the sounds and smells of a fire beginning to erupt. She squeezed passed a few people, tears openly streaming down her face, and toppled into the warm, humid air, laced with hysteria and chaos, and onto a beach whose beauty was disguised by the many pieces of plane wreck and injured bodies dabbling its shore. There was dust traveling everywhere, she squinted her eyes, unable to see or hear a thing. All she knew was a monstrous part of a plane standing in the middle of the beach.

She didn't know what to do, where to go, so she screamed loudly. She was shrieking now, a complete wreck. She didn't know where Boone was, where anything was, if anyone was going to live, if the fire was going to get larger, if she would ever see home again… "Boone!" She yelled, but what she was saying was destroyed by the sounds of the plane's failing engine. It seemed like she had been waiting there for an eternity, screamed herself hoarse, when she suddenly saw Boone, also searching for her. "Boone!" She shouted towards him. He looked at her, thoroughly relieved, and ran towards her, grabbing both of her hands. He squeezed each of her hands and looked at her, and she stared right back, still crying.

"You're okay," he said, relieved. "You're okay." He looked at her for one more beat, and then let go and ran off to go help people. Helping people – that was the last thing Shannon was thinking of right now. She heard a huge explosion off in the distance, a man in a suit rushed by her, and a blonde pregnant girl struggled in the distance as some fat guy tried to assist her. Everyone was helping everyone, but Shannon was just standing there – hello, she had just survived a major trauma, so she continued yelling. She had never seen so much blood in her life, so many dying people and so much chaos. For once in her life, she had absolutely no idea what was going to happen – she had never been in such an incredibly dire situation. Shannon thought she could see a bit of some guy in a blue shirt pushing futilely on some lady's chest – was it Boone? The dust and hysterical atmosphere made everything unrecognizable. The guy in the suit was there too, talking at him like he was an idiot.

Shannon noticed one side of the plane shift near her. It was going to fall – oh my god, it was going to fall! She ran up the beach, closer to where the beach turned into forest, where she was safely away from it. As the day went on, Shannon didn't know how many hours had passed – the wreckage made time seem so unimportant. When dusk came along, and the fire had stopped, so had the particles flying around, everything seemed a little calmer. Shannon knew that the airplane people knew exactly where they were – they would be back in L.A. tomorrow, right? She silently convinced herself she would, and went around trying to find her bag. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it, toppled over near a piece of an airplane seat, dirty but relatively unharmed, and decided to do something to distract herself from it all. She sat down between some pieces of the plane, where the ground was basically clear, and plopped down into the sand, unzipping her bag.

Ah. Nail polish. Nothing to distract her more than giving herself a good manicure. Honestly, Shannon hadn't given herself a manicure since she was fifteen, she had been getting her nails done regularly since then, but as Shannon shook the bottle and stroked a brush of Passion pink polish onto her big toe, she noticed that her skills hadn't really subsided much since. Boone plopped down across from her, looking at her tiredly, rather disappointedly, actually, and held up something in front of her face like it was a peace offering. She looked at it. Hershey's. Chocolate! Why would she eat chocolate right now? She didn't even like chocolate, only white chocolate, he had known that since they were kids and she would eat the frosting off his piece of cake and he would eat the actual cake part. Sometimes she would let him lick some frosting off her fingers, but most of the time she ate it all herself. As they got older, though, she let him do it more, because the liked the feel of his tongue against her skin. Things hadn't changed much, had they?

"As if I'm going to start to eat chocolate," she said scathingly.

"Shannon," he started, "We may be here a while." Of course they weren't! This was just going to become some funny story they told at the dinner table at Thanksgiving! She made a pact that she wouldn't eat until they got rescued, which was going to be soon. Very, very soon.

"The plane had a black box, idiot. They know exactly where we are, they're coming. I'll eat on the rescue boat." She said disdainfully. He held up the chocolate again. "I'll eat on the rescue boat!" she said again, an edge to her voice. What the fuck did he not understand about no? She glared at him, and he looked annoyed and upset that she was being so mean. Maybe somewhere in his twisted small, small brain, he thought that she would be nice to him because of the crash. But why would that change anything? What he did next, Shannon found gross. He unwrapped the chocolate bar and bit into it ferociously. She squinted. Ew! But then as she glared at him, watching him eat it, she noticed his lips on the chocolate bar, and how they were moving, and how much she wanted to fucking be that fucking chocolate bar… oh, gross, she so did not just think that! She shook her head and started working on her next nail. She so did not just think that.

"D'you know what happened to that girl?" He asked her. She was paying attention to her third toe, which simply refused to cooperate. "Shannon?"

"What?"

"God, what's with you? I said do you know what happened to that girl who was sitting next to us?"

"Um," she said, remembering. "I don't know." She tried to sound nonchalant.

"Do you have a heart? Don't you care?"

She paused from painting her nails. "Yes, I care, excuse me if it's not that most pleasant thing to think about!"

He breathed, glowering at her. "Last night seems really far away, doesn't it?"

"Are you being sentimental?"

"No!"

"Sounded like it, that's all," she teased. He wasn't amused.

"Just shut up, Shannon." She shut up, but suddenly she heard a monstrous noise coming from the jungle.

"What was that?" she looked up, suddenly.

"Did anybody hear that?" she heard the pregnant girl say in fright.

"Boone!" she screamed as he shot up and went towards it, her voice catching, making her sound like an idiot. The noise became louder, and soon everyone on the beach was standing up in confusion and fright, so Shannon, disregarding her wet toenail polish, jumped up and looked off into the jungle as well. What she saw was terrifying. Off in the dark, looming shadows of the forest were moving violently, but she couldn't see what was doing it.

"Terrific." Said some guy. Like now was a time to be sarcastic, that idiot. They all stared, stupefied, towards to forest, but eventually, the noises subsided and speaking in hushed tones, everyone went back to what they had been doing before.

She sat down in her spot and began redoing her nails. About a minute later, Boone sat down again next to her, looked at her toes, and sighed. So what if she was disappointing him?

"So what do you think that thing was?"

"I don't know," she said, for she had been willing herself not to think about it.

"Huh," he said. "Neither do I." She rolled her eyes. Did he truly expect her to talk to him? They both knew very well that the only thing they ever did was fight and fuck. Nothing else. Talking? Please.

"How are the nails going?" He said mockingly.

"Fine." She spat, accidentally spilling some of it. Shit. She picked it back up expertly and glared at him. "I want to go home!"

"I have to get back to work," he said.

"They don't really need you. We all know you're just a puppet for Sabrina," she said, finishing off the last toenail.

"You know what I think, Shannon?"

"No Boone, what do you think?" She said derisively, wiggling her toes, willing them to dry.

"I think you're jealous."

She scoffed. "Jealous? Yeah, my life's goal is to figure out what colors some stupid flowers are going to be – what's the difference between cream colored roses and fucking ivory roses?"

"One of them is –"

"I was being rhetorical."

"Oh, big word, Shannon." She turned her head quickly to swear at him, but then she felt the crick in her neck start to burn.

"Ow," she squinted her eyes in pain. "My neck," she sighed, rubbing it.

"Was it the crash?" He said, suddenly sounding anxious.

"Yeah, I think so." She exhaled. "I can't reach, can you try to… you know, get it out?"

"I'll try," he said, looking uncertain. "Anywhere else?"

She smiled to herself. No, but she could sure pretend that there was. "Yeah, right here." She motioned to her lower back. Her very lower back.

"Okay," he said, and kneeled behind her. She crossed her legs as he cautiously placed his hands on her neck. He pressed into her skin slowly, but then began kneading the muscles on her shoulders. She tried to suppress a moan badly. He smirked. "Where is it, exactly?" He cupped her head with his hand, using his other hand to touch random places on her neck. "There?" He asked, lightly pinching the area where her neck tapered into shoulder.

"Yeah," she sighed. "Oh god, yes," she whispered as he pushed down in the exact right area. "Mmmmm," she said as his warm fingers massaged her thin shoulders. She shifted awkwardly, shying away from his touch a little bit so that he had to lean in more. He did, and she could feel him breathing on her neck. She smiled again as he swooped his face closer, acting like he was going to kiss her neck but thought better of it.

"That better?" He muttered.

"No, do it more," she ordered. He brought his hands lower, to the place in her lower back where she had told him it hurt.

"There?" He rubbed one of the bones in her spine.

"No, lower," she smirked. He brought his hands lower until he was practically groping her ass, and she made sighs of delight as he massaged in all the right places. She had her eyes closed and was rotating her head in bliss. What was it about Boone's backrubs that seemed to make the fact that she had just crashed on a tropical island disappear?

"Shhhhh, Shannon," he admonished. "People are looking." He slowly tickled his fingers back up her back and squeezed her shoulders again. He continued to mold his fingers in her skin until people's fires near them began to go out and others stopped stirring and seemed to be making camp for the night. "Where are you going to sleep?" He asked her, his hands inevitably finding her butt again.

"God…" she sighed. " I dunno…"

"How about right here?"

"Sure… that's – that's fine. Mmmmm!" She gasped in delight as he caressed her, and she noticed he was more tickling and groping than actually massaging. "Boone," she said forcefully (but it came out as a moan).

"Yeah?"

"Boone." She tried to say again, and was a little more successful. "What are you doing?" He suddenly seemed to notice the fact that he was feeling her ass.

"Sorry," he pulled back embarrassedly. "Sorry."

"So…"

"So… where did you say you were going to sleep?" He changed the subject.

"Well, I said that I was going to sleep here," But that was when she was under his friggin' powers… "But I think I'm going to go and sleep over there now," she pointed towards the further half of the beach.

"Okay," he said, sounding a little disappointed. "Your neck better?"

"Oh yeah," she said distractedly. "It's a lot better, thanks. You should ditch the friggin' color schemes and just become a massage person."

"Masseuse?"

"Yeah, that. But then you have to deal with fat, hairy old people." She stood up. "Can you believe we were just in a plane crash?" She complained. "I hate this place!" A few people looked around at this tackily dressed, strange girl who had just been moaning like she was having sex and was now screaming at someone who couldn't do anything about the situation. She grabbed her bag and stalked over towards the other side of the beach.

The first thing she noticed was that it was cold. Then there were looming shadows all around her, whistles of wind, and approximately half a minute later, she was standing next to Boone, who was lying on a jacket again. "Hey," she whispered loudly. "Scoot over."

"I was wondering how long it would take you," he smiled wanly. "You always were afraid of the dark." She climbed next to him, and he wrapped his arms around her shivering body. And when she awoke at the first light of dawn the next morning, she was happy that it was Boone wrapped around her.