Well, right now, my brain is writer's block central. And my stomach is killing me. And I don't know whether or not to include their rocket stuff from The Moth or not. I feel like writing a steamy sex scene, but I've done that the last three chapters, so I somehow don't think that would be appropriate. But it is fanfiction, and everyone knows that fanfiction is usually only read for sex scenes anyhow. What to do, what to do? Owwwww, mi estomago està muy malo. (Excuse terrible Spanish)

Maybe I'll do eeny meeny miny mo. Rather random sex scene, boring Shannon turning on the rocket and setting it off? Boone coming back from trying to dig Jack out of the cave, Boone coming… uh… in another way? snickers Okay, my decision is made.

Chapter 26 - Sawyer's Knowledge

That day, Kate and Sayid had been doing something related to triangulating the signal on the French transmission. She didn't really know what, but Boone had volunteered to help (of course he hadn't noticed the dubious looks Kate and Sayid gave him as he walked up), and then Jack and Charlie had gotten stuck in a cave. The stupidest things happened on this island! Stuck in a cave! So, Boone had gone to go save the day, or watch the day being saved by Charlie of all people, and Shannon had had to set a bottle rocket off at five. It had something to do with the triangles and the signals, and she had almost missed it because she had been talking to some frumpy manicurist from Ohio about Malibu, where Cruella/Sabrina rented a summerhouse. But she still ended up setting off the rocket. When Boone returned from the caves, covered in dirt, he had suggested again that they move to the caves, and after yelling at each other about it for an hour, they had gone to sleep, but the moment their heads hit the warm beach, they had been all over each other, forgetting almost completely about their argument.

After a few minutes of this, they realized that they needed to get away from everyone, and she had walked down the beach and scampered into the water, letting the warm waves glide over her feet. He leaned over, washing his face with the salty water, and then massaged her back, his still damp fingers moistening her neck as he kneaded into her shoulders. He exhaled, sending shivers down her back as his breath shot down the back of her skimpy tank top. She sighed breathily, turning around to face him. She had been so distracted by his seducing skills, an area that she had thought he was lacking in, that she hadn't noticed a significant wave gurgling behind her, and when the wave brushed over her calves, she tripped over a rock in surprise and fell into the water. She grabbed onto him, accidentally pulling him in with her, and when they reached the surface again, they were gasping for air. In any normal situation, she would have been extremely pissed off to be wet with sticky, salty water, but this island was so hot and humid that she was grateful for any contact with water she could get. They swam up to the shore, to an area where the water was only about ankle deep. Kneeling on the ground and facing each other, she looked at his wet hair, plastered onto his scalp, and his shirt, which was glued onto him, dripping wet. And of course, she couldn't help but notice how his boxers were completely skintight in their drenched state. She giggled, blushing a little, and as she stood up, she could imagine that her clothing was probably quite revealing too. After all, she was wearing a white tank top and a tiny cotton skirt, which she carelessly tossed down the beach.

As the waves lapped at their feet, she leaned towards him and kissed him on the lips, the chaste kiss of a kin to another kin. But he had other ideas, pulling her flush against him, opening his lips to her eager tongue. She moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist and hoisting herself against him. They continued to kiss, forgetting their anger even further, as her wet hair dripped onto his shirt, which she peeled off as soon as possible. They didn't realize that they were backing up, and once again, fell into the water.

"Maybe we should move away from the water," he suggested, smirking, and grabbed her hand, leading her up the beach, further from the camp. When they were far enough, she noticed that the evening air was chilly and crisp, and started shivering. He lay down in the sand, and she rolled on top of him almost immediately. Recognizing how cold she was, he wrapped his arms around her, but she had other ideas. Pulling herself closer so that she could feel his pulse, she kissed his neck softly, gradually becoming more aggressive with her kisses by eventually adding teeth. Finally, she reached his lips, which tasted salty, and nibbled on his bottom lip. He kissed back, climbing his hands up her damp waist, pulling off her thin shirt that had been stuck to her skin. "I want you so badly," she moaned, her teeth chattering as she dug her nails into his sides.

As the sun began to peak into the sky, they decided to go back to the water, and wash the sand and extra layer of guilt from their bodies. She had hopped into his arms again and was kissing him eagerly, running her hands through her hair, when she suddenly realized what time it was. "Boone," she said, pulling back a little.

"Yeah?" His cheeks were flushed, and he looked sweaty and confused.

"People are going to wake up," she pointed out, hastily grabbing her skirt and a random shirt that she hoped was hears and not his. Creeping back to camp to get their clothes and creeping back to him were probably the most awkward couple of minutes of her life. The kid almost woke up when she stepped on the dog's tail, and she cringed as she wondered what he would say when they saw a half naked, shivering girl with hair that had dried in strange curls somewhat resembling dreadlocks standing over him. Stupid Boone! Why could he have gotten the fucking clothes himself!

"I hate this fucking island. I fucking hate you," she whispered when she got back, holding his bag, which had somehow become shared between them, in front of him. He took it from her and took out a clean shirt. He had somehow salvaged his boxers from the waves. "I am not moving to the caves." She dried herself off with her old shirt and slipped on a yellow ribbed tank top.

"I fucking hate you too, Shannon." He answered listlessly, pulling on his shirt. "What the hell is the big deal?" He yawned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. She put on a matching skirt and took out her gigantic makeup case.

"I've told you like, 600 times!" That was when her breathing started to get rough. She had inhaled in frustration, but found it rather difficult. "Can you please get my… inhalers?" She wheezed, sitting down, and as he groped through his bag, she wondered why it was taking so long. "This is all your fucking fault, Boone… I can get… attacks… I can get attacks when I'm in physically demand… demanding situations." She closed her eyes and counted to ten. "Why are you taking so long?" She asked, her breathing steadying slightly. He looked at her seriously.

"I can't find the inhalers," he said slowly.

"You can't find them." She repeated. "What the fuck am I supposed to do? I mean, I can't breathe here!"

"Sounds like you're breathing fine now," he said, trying to disguise his concern. She sneered at him acerbically, looking at the mirror in her makeup case worriedly. She looked like crap! Why hadn't he told her?

"Don't be a smart ass." Just then, Sawyer walked by, smirking and plopped down right near them and started reading a book.

"Well, hello," he smiled mockingly. "What's doing with my favorite brother and sister today?" He didn't even seem to find it weird that he was reading at six thirty in the morning, or that they were wet and sitting in the sand looking ridiculously guilty.

She gaped at him. He shook his head, looking victorious, and returned to the book. "It's about bunnies," he told them. She nodded slowly. Boone was looking at the book in concentration. God, he was an idiot for not realizing that Sawyer knew!

Shannon and Boone glared at each other, and she said one more time, slowly, as if he was retarded, "I am not moving to the caves," although it seemed completely non-sequitor. He bit his lip in defeat, and lay down again, closing his eyes and trying to sleep. She followed suit, squinting at Sawyer, who seemed to be perusing the book attentively.

"Sticks," he drawled, looking from her to the unconscious Boone. "You really got that boy tired, haven't you?"

Shannon rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Sawyer," she said uninterestedly, sitting up. Then Sawyer laughed a harsh, spontaneous chuckle.

"Your brother," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Smooth cover, Sticks."

"He is my brother," she answered reflexively.

"Sure," he drew out the vowels, his Southern accent taking charge. "Ain't we going to wake the boy up by talking?" He glanced at Boone.

"No, he sleeps like a rock. I could probably punch him in the face and he wouldn't notice."

"You could probably kick him in the balls and he wouldn't notice," Sawyer smirked.

"Look Sawyer, I'm not an idiot –"

"Would've fooled me – "

"Shut the fuck up, okay? I'm not an idiot, I see what you're getting at, and I want you to stop, okay?"

"Alright Sticks," he said, flipping a page absently. "It's a deal."

She turned over and closed her eyes, the lack of sleep from last night finally getting to her. Even in his sleep, Boone had sensed her presence, and whispered "Shan" sleepily, wrapping a protective arm around her waist.

"Boone," she said back. He didn't seem to notice that Sawyer was still there. "Boone," she said again, more forcefully.

"Yeah, what?" He opened his eyes.

"Sawyer," she whispered hoarsely. But when she looked up, Sawyer had disappeared.

Boone yawned rather adorably and sat up, as people were beginning to stir. Shannon didn't care; she let herself doze off for a few minutes. By the time she woke up, she felt completely crappy (an entire night of having sex and no sleep can do that to you), but it was probably about eleven, so she stood up and started to redo her makeup. She wondered where Boone had gone, but didn't let herself become too concerned about him, and devoted her concerns to the state of her hair.

Maybe she should have been concerned about him, she thought as she saw him approach her, his nose bloody, reminding her painfully of the last time she had seen him in this condition. She didn't know why she was so nice about it; maybe it was too make up for last time. "Oh my god," she said, looking at him – he had a couple of bruises on his arms, a cut on his forehead, and of course, the nose bleed. "What happened to you?"

"Sawyer beat me up," Boone said, cringing as he sat down on a tree stump next to her. "I can barely walk."

"What? Why!" She exclaimed, replacing her makeup brush into its container.

"I thought he had your inhalers!" Boone said earnestly.

"Why would he take my inhalers?" Shannon asked condescendingly.

"He was reading Watership Down. That's my book!" Shannon nodded. Boone had always carried her inhalers around for her because Shannon forgot to. Many a time had they been driving somewhere, and Shannon had panicked, remembering that she had left her inhalers somewhere. Once, Sabrina got the idea in her twisted little brain that they should all go on a road trip to Mexico. David had begrudgingly agreed, not wanting to disappoint his money source/wife, and Boone and Shannon had argued the entire way there. Anyway, about an hour out of San Diego, Shannon started fumbling in her bag, and almost had an attack when she realized her inhalers weren't there.

"Shit," she had said, and Sabrina had glared at her 15-year-old stepdaughter through the car mirror. "I don't have my inhalers."

"You forgot your inhalers again?" David shouted, waking Boone, who predictably had fallen asleep on Shannon's shoulder in the back seat. Why hadn't they gone on one of these stupid road trips when they were seven like they were supposed to?

"Calm down, David," said Boone. "I'm sure they're here somewhere. Did you look in your tote bag, too?" He asked her. But he was wrong. Sabrina turned the wheel of the Mercedes in a dramatic U-Turn, yelling at Shannon the entire way, and when they got back to the house, David had refused to leave again.

So, they just left without him, and Sabrina ditched Shannon and Boone for a spa, being the responsible mother that she wasn't, and Shannon and Boone ditched Sabrina for a night of tequila and grinding against each other in a random club in Cancun. Shannon had donned a curve hugging, teal halter dress and worn her hair long and wavy, but when they arrived, Shannon realized that the boys-under-18 bracket was not abundant, so the first thing they did was head to the bar and order a shot of tequila. When a cheesy hip-hop song came on, she had bubbled, "I love this song!" even though she really didn't, and they found themselves up against each other, Boone's hands firmly planted on her ass, grinding and groping at each other like there was no tomorrow, later graduating to making out like there was no tomorrow. But unfortunately, there was a tomorrow, and the ensuing fight between mother and son had not been pretty.

"Shannon! Are you even listening to me!" He asked, disturbing her reverie.

"Yeah, sorry, what?" She responded carelessly, brushing out her hair with her fingers.

"Sawyer!" He gestured to his bloody nose. "He said some things…"

"Did he call you a mean name?" She responded condescendingly.

"Shannon," he said forcefully. "Look at me, god damnit!" She looked at him. "He knows, okay? He knows about us."

Shannon shrugged. "I know," she responded.

"You know?"

"Yeah, he doesn't care." Shannon shrugged again. "He's not going to tell anyone."

He gaped at her in disbelief. "I can't believe you aren't reacting to this. What are we supposed to do?"

"Does that matter? Where are the inhalers?" She asked anxiously.

"Um," he answered. "He didn't have them. Or wouldn't give them to me. I don't know, I was too busy being beat to the ground to fucking notice. Sorry." He finished sarcastically.

"Maybe you should go get Jack." Shannon said, looking at the gash on his forehead.

"Maybe you should help me walk, Shannon." He answered. "You are so fucking selfish!" She stood up, draping his arm over her. They limped over to Jack's tent, which would have been easier had they been living at the caves, but she didn't mention this. She wiped her forehead about halfway through and they collapsed.

"Let me take a break," she said. "Let me catch… my breath." He didn't say anything; he just gave her a look that she couldn't quite interpret. As they sat, Sawyer walked by, glaring at Boone. Shannon glared right back at him, muttering "bastard" quite audibly as he exited.

Boone looked amused, or he would have if his facial expressions hadn't been extremely handicapped thanks to the gash on his forehead. "Let's go," he prodded, wincing. He draped his arm over her shoulder again, and they somehow managed to make it to Jack's tent.

"We need some help over here!" She yelled.

"What happened?" Jack asked anxiously, taking one of his arms as Sayid took the other. Shannon backed up and sat on a nearby bucket.

"Sawyer." Boone explained, flinching. Sayid and Jack sat Boone down on a makeshift chair, and Sayid retreated. She saw Jack go over to a table covered in bottles, which she presumed were full of medicines, and grab a bottle of peroxide. See, Boone had a thing about peroxide. Most people were sensitive to how it stung, but he was much worse. Only a few weeks after Shannon and her father had moved to the Carlyle's house, Boone had come home one day with a scrape on his knee, claiming that he had fallen down a flight of stairs. When Sabrina had cleaned it off, she had heard her yelling at him, as Sabrina roughly poured copious amounts of peroxide onto the cut. He had started crying, which Shannon remembered thinking was very stupid, he was such a sensitive little kid. And even just weeks ago in Sydney, she had watched him putting peroxide on the cut where Brian had hit him, and how he flinched just looking at the bottle. Or maybe he had been flinching at the sight of her in the bathroom mirror.

He was doing the same thing now, squinting his eyes and batting away Jack's arm as he held a cloth with peroxide on it to his forehead. "Jack, it's fine!" He exclaimed. "It's just a scrape."

"Yeah, lots of scrapes today. I'm running out of peroxide." Jack responded blandly. He sat down across from Boone as Boone tried to reposition himself.

"He just jumped me, man." Boone claimed. "I didn't –"

"Why?" Asked Jack.

"Shannon has asthma." He said, and Shannon looked over, frowning. It was bad enough that she was like the epitome of one of those band geeks permanently attached to an inhaler, but nobody needed to know!

When she saw them looking at her, she turned back, busying herself with a loose thread on her shirt.

"Asthma?" Jack repeated, sounding nervous.

"Yeah."

"I've never seen her have an attack before," Jack said, as if he was making it up or something.

"Because she had an inhaler. She's sneaks hits when no one's looking. She's been embarrassed about it since she was a little kid. I guess breathing's not cool." She rolled her eyes. That idiot! He probably thought he was being cute and funny, and if he thought that was blackmail, he should see what kinds of things she could embarrass him about!

"Had an inhaler?" Jack repeated, sounding even more nervous.

"It ran out a couple of days ago." He hadn't told her that it had run out! She hated how he censored information from her, like she was too weak to handle the truth. "But I had 4 refills which should have been enough for a couple of months. But she always forgets her medication so I put it my suitcase. Today I see that jackass reading Watership Down." He spoke vehemently, like the world was coming to its end.

"You're losing me," Jack looked at Boone like he was retarded.

"It was in my bags, the stuff that I checked. If he has my book, he has my luggage, if he has the luggage he has the inhalers! Her breathing got really rough today, man. If she has an attack, it's not going to be good."

Jack sighed. "I'll get them from him."

"How?" Boone wasn't nearly as calm as Jack was.

"I just will. We need to clean the cut on your chest now." Boone took off his shirt. Oh, shit. Not only was there a huge gash from Sawyer's little bought of fun, but there were also the long, bloody scrapes from where she had dug her nails into him accidentally. She gave him a look, but he wasn't looking at her.

She tapped her fingers on the bucket in concern, hoping that Jack wouldn't notice the scrapes. Jack put the peroxide cloth on his shoulder." What are those?" He asked, referring to the scrapes. Shit, shit, shit.

Boone's eyes widened in surprise. "Um," he said. "This is going to sound really stupid, but… I have a cat, and it went kind of psycho, and – " Jack looked at him, completely not buying it.

"I'm not an idiot, Boone. I know what these are from." He laughed, half smiling. "So you had a girlfriend who got a little crazy with… anticipation. I get it."

Boone looked incredibly embarrassed. "Uh… uh…" he blubbered, putting his shirt back on.

"Hey," Jack patted Boone on the back. "I think you're going to be okay. Now," he clenched his fists, "I'll go take care of Sawyer. Shannon, keep an eye on your brother, will you?" Shannon looked up and nodded. She was a wee bit on the embarrassed side herself. "Psychotic cat…" Jack shook his head as he walked away.

The moment he was gone, Shannon stared at him in disbelief. "What the fuck?" She whispered hoarsely, approaching him. "A psycho cat?" Shannon laughed at the thought of being compared to an insane feline.

"What else was I supposed to say?" But she didn't get to answer, because just then, a whoosh of air flew past her nose, sending her into a fit of hysterical coughing. She could tell that this was the real thing, because it wasn't long before she realized that she wasn't breathing at all. She sat on the floor of the caves, tears streaming down her face.

"Shannon! Oh shit, Shannon," Boone somehow stood up, and kneeled down next to her. "Can you please try to breathe?" He said, as calmly as possible. "Please. Breathe, Shannon!"

She shook her head. She would breathe if she fucking could, wouldn't she? She gasped, trying desperately to formulate the words "Get Jack." She realized that those were possibly her last words.

Sorry it took so long to update, and sorry, that chapter was really bad and had a horrible ending. Um, please review, and tell me which lines you liked/didn't like. Did you like the beach thing and the flashback? And was the Sawyer/Shannon conversation too weird? What about the psycho cat thing?