Chapter 31 - Fright and Confessions (First half is not new content)

She didn't know what time it was when she heard a series of shrill, ear-piercing screams, and she didn't know what had happened. All she knew was that someone was screaming like they were being murdered – maybe it was her imagination, or maybe it was that monster who's threat was always looming in the jungle.

"What the hell is that?" She said to him.

"Wha's… what?" He responded sleepily.

"Don't you hear that? The screams?"

"What screams?" He sat up now, his voice laden with concern. "I don't hear anything."

"Do you think I'm making it up? Do you think I'm crazy?"

"No, Shannon, I don't think that you're crazy. In fact, I think that if there are people screaming, we should probably move to the caves."

Shannon sighed. "This thing about the caves you keep mentioning, you know we can't do that!"

"Why?"

"Because we're not quiet enough, you know that." She answered harshly. "Go back to bed, Boone, I'm probably just completely crazy." She finished scathingly.

"No – Shannon –"

"Just go to bed." She turned over, her arms tightly crossed over her shoulders.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Hell yes, I'm mad at you!" She sniffed. "I know I heard what I heard. Someone was screaming, okay? Why won't you believe me?"

"I believe you."

"You're just saying that to shut me up." She answered stubbornly.

"No I'm – Shannon, what the hell do you want me to do?"

"I don't know. God, when the fuck are we going to get rescued? I just want to get back to L.A!" She whined. "None of this creepy monster crap straight from the Sci-Fi channel, why can't it just go back to –"

"To the way it was?" He imitated her words from Sydney. "I'll just tell my mom I rescued you just like I always do, because that's what I always have to fucking do, Shannon, okay? So just shut the hell up and go to sleep, and maybe I don't believe you, but it's because you can be a little melodramatic!"

"Can I be delusional as well?" She asked pointedly. "I'm just sick and twisted and insane, right?"

"Yeah, basically." He turned over in a huff.

"Boone," she said.

"What?"

"When we get back to L.A., it doesn't have to go back."

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean like, we could be something." He turned back over, smiling strangely.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean like, something normal. Like brother and sister." This hadn't been what she had been trying to say, she was going to say that they could really have a relationship, with talking and dinner and the whole nine yards, but it didn't come out that way.

"Like brother and sister."

"The kind that doesn't have sex." She said, her words biting into the cold air. He didn't respond. "Boone," she repeated. "I didn't mean it that way. I mean, like – "

"I know what you mean Shannon. You want it to be the way that will be easiest for you, so you can do whatever the hell you want with me, touch me and hurt me and manipulate me whenever the hell you want, as long as it doesn't get in the way too much. Because I'm just your dumb little toy."

"No…" she whispered, tears coming to her eyes. She kissed the side of his face softly. "You are so much more than that… I mean, you're like, the only one rooting for me, you know? I really didn't mean what I said just now. Forget it, okay?" She placed a butterfly kiss on his neck and turned over.

"'Night, Shan."

"'Night, Boone." She still felt guilty, so a few breaths later, she said, "Boone?"

"What?"

"We can move to the caves tomorrow?"

"Um, why?"

"Those screams… Jack could be right about it being safer."

"Okay," he said.

"Okay," she snuggled into him and closed her eyes, Claire's screams altogether forgotten.

The next day, Shannon was preparing to walk to the caves, tossing her hairbrush, nail polish remover, and novelty gift magazine from the plane into Boone's duffel bag. Their stuff had sort of meshed – often he looked in her bag for things to wear before he even looked in his own. And if somebody went through the bag with the tag that said Boone Carlyle would probably think that Boone Carlyle was a cross dresser.

Just then, Hurley approached her. "Hey, we're doing like a census of the people on the island and stuff. Can I get your information?" He asked, a small notepad in his hands.

"You want my information. Name: Shannon Rutherford, Age: 20, Address: Craphole Island," she sneered.

"Right. So uh, where were you guys last night." Shannon's face stiffened. Boone looked a little uncomfortable as well.

"Um, the beach." Well they had been, after like, seven.

"Why the interrogation?" Boone asked, in his signature getting-all-political voice.

"You're like the 20th person to ask me that. Why is everyone so uptight about answering a few questions?" Hurley responded.

"Well, maybe we're just not cool with you setting up your own little Patriot Act, man." Shannon rolled her eyes.

"He's a liberal," she explained.

"No, seriously, why the list?" Boone prodded.

"Ah, nothing, we just had a little incident in the valley last night." Hurley dismissed.

"Incident?" She repeated, remembering the screams she had heard the night before.

"Yeah, Claire, the pregnant girl, you know her, she, uh, kind of got attacked." Hurley tightened his grip around his pencil nervously.

"What?" Her mind filled with images of violent rapes and shootings and blood.

"She okay?"

"Yeah, she's a little shook up, but – "

"I am so not moving to the rape caves with you." Shannon dropped her bag on the sand with a huff.

"You know, your life would be so much easier if you just had the manifest. We crossed out all the names of the dead after we burned the fuselage, so it should be a full roster of the rest of us." Boone said, ignoring her drama.

"What? Really? Who has it?" Hurley asked interestedly.

"Who do you think?" Boone frowned.

"Sawyer?" Hurley asked.

"Yep."

"Okay, thanks you guys!" Hurley waddled off. Shannon bit her lip.

"I am not moving to the rape caves!" She repeated.

"Fine." He lowered his voice. "But we probably shouldn't be sneaking off far away anymore. I mean, if there's something dangerous out there…" Shannon nodded. "Maybe we should stop…"

"No!" She said firmly. "We'll just be really quiet."

Turns out that was a little harder than they thought. In Sydney, however putrid the situation may have been, he had smelled like spicy Calvin Klein cologne and Head and Shoulders. They had fallen onto a feather bed with 500-thread count sheets, and she had allowed her immense moans to resonate throughout the room, afraid of what silence might bring.

Tonight, he smelled like salt, not the kind from the dinner table, but the fresh, windswept salt that stuck to the windows of yachts at Newport Harbor before they were scrubbed away by a manic crew of workers. The Calvin Klein cologne was still apparent, but each day it lessened more and more and now was simply a hint of a whiff that was greatly overpowered by the sweat and salt that coated his body. Here, they fell into sand, and had to contain their moans, swallowing them up, fearing the consequences that a tiny peep might bring.

When he lay down next to her that night, it wasn't long until she felt his hand press into her thigh and creep slowly under layers of clothing, concentrating on caressing her breasts, his fingers rolling into the curves of her chest. She shivered, because moaning wasn't allowed, and let him gently roll on top of her, kissing her softly but noiselessly. Whenever she felt a sigh of recognition building in her throat, she responded by gulping. Time was another important aspect, so their shirts stayed on and only their underwear was removed. She could tell that he was refraining from making noise when she slid down his boxers, letting her hands linger as much as she wanted, which was a lot. With each thrust of his hips against hers, her gasps ascended, and the only way that she could prevent them was by biting her lips, gnashing her teeth against each other, digging deep, bloody scratches into his sides. They were used to her tears by now, that came so freely they dribbled into the sand, leaving tiny teardrops on the shore. She exhaled through her nose, trying to ignore the fact that he was having much less trouble that she was.

In Sydney, she had begged for him, screamed for him, and in the end, cried for him, and her screams of "Boone" and "Mmmmm!" had echoed, absorbing into the thick white walls of the hotel. But here that wasn't allowed. She couldn't even imagine what would happen if they were heard – nor did she want to. But they had their own rhythm on the island, and they were insatiable.

He was just pulling back when she heard it again. "Boone!" She whispered harshly, pushing him off of her. "Listen!"

He looked confused, but then an expression of recognition appeared on his face. "You think that's what we heard last night? Claire?"

Shannon nodded slowly, her half naked body shivering against the sand, even though she was covered by a blanket. "I'm scared," she mouthed. He handed her her skirt, agreeing.

"What are we going to do, Boone?" She asked, completely petrified, slipping it on under the blanket. "What's going on?"

"Shhhh," he rubbed her arm. "I'm sure it's okay."

"To hell you are! I want to know what the hell that is!"

"It's Claire," they heard a voice say. Shannon gulped, not recognizing the voice. But when she looked up, it was just Kate, holding a flashlight. She didn't look suspicious, or scared, which calmed Shannon slightly. "Jack said she's been having a lot of really violent nightmares."

"So no one's getting attacked?" She asked.

"I don't think so." Kate told them. "You should probably go back to sleep." She nodded meekly.

"Goodnight," Boone called after her. "Wait, where are you going?"

"I'm going to check on them." Boone hoisted himself up.

"Boone, please don't go!" Shannon yelled after him. "You're not going to leave me here alone, are you?"

He looked at her. "No. No, I'm not. Sorry." She smiled slightly as he sat back down.

"Bye," Kate called back.

They continued where they had left off.

(Note: New content begins here. Sorry for the confusion.)

Claire was kidnapped the next day. It turned out that Ethan, a man she hadn't known, had pretended to be on the plane, but actually wasn't and had kidnapped Claire and Charlie too. The mere thought sent shivers down Shannon's back, her throat filled with a hollow void when Boone had informed her what was going on. "What are you talking about?" She asked him, her voice shaking, as they arrived at the caves to get water.

"They were walking, and apparently that Ethan guy was with them, and then he took them. That's what Kate told me."

"Is that why she was screaming? Is it?" She asked. But Boone ignored her, looking up at Kate and Locke who were standing nearby. He started walking towards them. "What are you doing? We need to get our water and get to the beach. – "

"I hear you're forming a search party. Can I help?" He asked them. Right. So two people had just been abducted, and he wanted to go trekking into the fucking jungle of mysteries and leave her all alone?

"This is a deserted island. There's no choppers, no Amber Alert. How exactly are you going to find them?" She asked, rolling her eyes to disguise her fear.

"By following Ethan's trail. No one can walk through the wilderness without leaving signs, bending blades of grass, breaking twigs, especially with captives in tow. And yes, I could use another hand if you're up for it." Locke told Boone, completely ignoring Shannon's presence.

"I'm up for it," Boone said, giving Shannon a look, as if he were proving something to her.

Locke handed Boone a rather frightening looking knife. "Then let's get moving." Shannon stood behind them helplessly, hoping for dear life that he would still be alive the next time she saw him.

For the entire duration of the next few days, Shannon was so nervous that she couldn't eat, and spent most of the time shakily filing her nails. Plus, she had no one to talk to now that Claire had been taken, and she wondered if Claire was even alive any more, or had she been brutally killed or stabbed to death? If so, that would mean her child would be dead as well. Thinking about such uncomfortable things, about how there were other people, murderers on this island, made her feel nauseous, and now Boone wasn't there to distract her from the awful truth of this place. Would he be home at four? She asked Michael what time it was and calculated the seconds until his arrival in her head, painstakingly carrying the numbers in her mind. When four rolled around, she guessed he'd be home at six, or at least by dinner, but when the remains of last night's boar were divvied up, Boone was still absent, even though Jack and Kate and Charlie were back. They had arrived at dusk, their clothes muddy, looking tattered and shaken. A horrible jolt had rushed through her stomach when she didn't see Boone walking behind them, even though Kate told her that they had split up and Boone was with Locke. She stared down at the disgusting red meat, and felt a strong desire to throw up. She looked over her shoulder, praying that there weren't any psycho rapists or murderers looming in the shadows. There weren't, but the newly found Charlie was sitting by the fire, breathing quietly, completely broken like his soul had been sucked out. She shivered – what if the same thing had happened to Boone? The next day wasn't any better – she managed a sip of water here and there, but eating was rather foreign… breathing was difficult enough. She wondered often if he had been killed, if Ethan had taken him, too, no matter how hard she tried to banish the thought from her head.

"They aren't back yet," she approached Kate after dinner the first night, who was kneeling on the ground getting some water. She looked around nervously again, making sure no one was hiding behind her.

"I'm sure they just made camp for the night." Kate tried to reassure her, but Shannon couldn't imagine sleeping without him. And he knew that! If he was alright, he would have come back! "If there's anyone on this island that your brother's safe with, it's Locke." Shannon nodded jerkily, trying to believe Kate's words.

"Kate," she said. "What's going on?" She tried to dismiss the tears threatening to fall down her face.

"We thought Charlie was dead." Kate gulped. "We found him, and he was… tied to a tree and blindfolded. He wasn't breathing, and Jack tried to give him the Heimlich… he wasn't waking up, Shannon, and I told him to stop… but then he woke up. And he hasn't said anything except just now… all they wanted was Claire."

"They?" She repeated.

"I don't know who "they" is… I guess it would be Ethan's people." Shannon couldn't imagine how Kate was being so calm right now, and she knew that the only thing that could make her feel any better would be to be in Boone's arms again – the mere thought of his embrace made her feel slightly better… if he ever came back.

"Oh my god…" she sighed, and sat on a log next to the fire, checking once again to see if there was anyone hiding behind her, ready to pounce.

The fourth night, she was waiting alone for him like she had every night, and she tried to divert her mind from dangers, leading it towards thoughts of happier things – pedicures and facials and hugs from Boone, kisses from Boone, and, oh god, sex with Boone, and it worked for a while. That is, until she heard a rustle in the trees behind her, in the dead of night. She breathed quickly, until she noticed who it was coming through the trees. It was Locke, finally wet and exhausted. He looked at her, curious as to why she was still awake. "No luck," he said, smiling, which didn't exactly prove his point, she thought. She looked behind his body, checking for Boone's presence.

"Is he okay?" Shannon interrupted.

"Who?"

"Boone!" She responded, frustrated almost to tears.

"He was following just about a minute behind me."

"Was?" She whispered hoarsely.

"Don't worry, he's fine. I'm sure he didn't expect you to wait up, though." Locke gave her a questioning look and walked away. Shannon stepped tentatively towards the jungle.

"Boone?" She whispered. "Please… where are you?"

"Shannon?" She heard a familiar voice say. Oh god, she wanted him to say her name again. He advanced towards her, and she enveloped him in an enthusiastic hug. She continued to wrap her arms around his body for quite a while, but he wasn't exactly arguing, he had his arms around her just as tightly, and was breathing heavily into her neck.

"You're all wet," she said. She didn't feel like asking him where he had been, because now that she was safe, all she wanted to do was sleep. "Come on," she let go of her embrace. "Let's go to bed."

"I'm not arguing," he responded to her hand pulling him towards the beach. Then she dropped his hand as they approached the trail to the beach.

"You lead," she urged. He started walking, but Shannon, petrified with fear, lingered behind. He grabbed her hand again.

"Shan, what's wrong? Come on, it's okay." He pulled her towards him as he walked forwards.

"I was so scared, Boone. Don't leave like that again! What if he comes again?"

"Don't think about that right now, Shan, okay?"

She swallowed, feeling more vulnerable than ever. "Okay," she squeaked. They continued following the path, and when they reached the area where they kept their things, she started digging through his bag and got the sweater and pulled it over her head. "Can you tuck me in?" She asked. He smiled deprecatingly and lay a blue airplane blanket over her body.

"What, so now I'm you mother too?"

She closed her eyes, her drowsy state getting to her. "You're like my mother and my best friend and my boyfriend and my brother… all at the same time…" Even though her eyes were closed, she could sense the satisfaction he took out of hearing this. "Boone…" she whispered. "Come to bed, okay?" He lay down next to her, rubbing his hands over her back briefly. She cuddled into him. "Don't go away again like that, okay?" she muttered. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." He agreed.

"Mmmmm," she responded. "Boone, you know I love you." She murmured quietly. Oh shit, she thought, wishing she could take the words back. Now her biggest secret was on the floor, he knew now.

"What?" His voice was suddenly alert. "What did you say?"

"I love you…" she breathed, her words barely audible.

"Oh my god…" he groaned. "God, me too. Shannon?" But Shannon was pretending to be asleep.

And the next day she pretended it hadn't happened.

I know that was also short, but I was having some severe continuity issues that I need to deal with and going on would just confuse me more. I guess now there'll be 37-ish chapters. Please review.