She wondered if he had even remembered her. Of course he probably didn't. He didn't even give her a second glance when he and his two friends were finally freed from the makeshift prison. She should have felt slighted but their encounter had been so brief that it was not unlikely for him to forget. She kicked herself for giving him so much of her thoughts. Obviously he hadn't been as greatly affected by their meeting as her. But how could she not forget him. He was gorgeous. The rugged bad boy so many women wanted to in their beds.

She tried not to feel jealousy when he and Ana exchanged hostile flirtatious comments to each other. It was obvious to all there was a sexual attraction between the both of them. Why not? Ana was the take charge bossy bitch of the group and she was standing in the background. She also knew she had seen better days. The men's shirt she wore over the white - well once white - tank top completely swallowed her up. The jeans she wore were muddy and had several spots of blood she hadn't been able to wash out. The mountain boots she had taken off one of the dead were thankfully not too large and not to small. Her hair fell in stringy black around her face and her right cheek had a scar on it – a 'souvenir' from the plane crash.

"Hold up." Ana said after turning and seeing Sawyer come to a stop and then finally sit. "Moira hand me that water." Jerked out of her rambling thoughts Moira grabbed the water tied around her waist and then handed it to Ana. She watched as Ana gave the water to Sawyer and then they passed back comments. Married? Had he really asked her that? He had asked the same thing of her with that same look in his eye. Fucking-

"Alright. Let's getting going. We don't want to waste too much time." Ana said. Moira looked at Sawyer through the curtain of her as he passed Ana and continued walking. She caught Ana's eye and raised her eyebrows in a questioning manner. She couldn't blame Ana for her behavior. It wasn't like she had claim to Sawyer and Ana was an attractive woman. Unlike herself now with the scar on her cheek and the rest scattered across her body. Ana smiled and winked at her.

The accident had done more than scar Moira physically. It had scarred her mentally as well. Aside from coming too and seeing a piece of metal sticking through the chest cavity of her brother she endured a couple weeks of painful recovery as she had to be her own doctor and crudely piece her broken body together. The events over the past weeks leading to the fate of the other members that had been in the tail end of the plane also played heavily on her mind.

They knew of the 'Others' but they didn't seem to realize the dangers this damn island presented. Why were they so unaffected? Where things so much different on their side of the island. It was one of the major reasons they were headed towards the other side of the island to regroup with the other members of the surviving front end of the plane. Bernard was the most eager to get to the other survivors after having been told his wife was still alive. It still amazed Moira that he had known she was still alive, that he had felt it.

They marched on for several more hours. They made slow progress though what with the terrain and with the injured Sawyer. The constant stops so that he could rest were slowing them down and though Ana kept making snide comments to that they were only half hearted and everyone else seemed relieved when they could stop walking and sit for a few minutes.

It was only when Sawyer had finally collapsed succumbing to the gun shot he had sustained. The amount of blood he had lost as well as the fact the injury was untreated and the possibility of infection was presenting it self his body could no longer keep up and his had passed out. Moira had instantly sprung into action. She was after all a doctor. Sure a pediatric doctor but she still knew all the ins and outs of the medical practice.

She grabbed the edges of the shirt surrounding the bullet wound tearing it apart so she could have a better unobstructed view of it. She didn't smell the tell tale stench of gangrene but that didn't mean that there wasn't some sort of underlying infection. She opened the water and poured it over the wound cleaning away some of the dried blood. She knew the bullet was not in the wound which was a good thing. There didn't appear to be any major damage done. Hesitantly she probed the wound with her finger. Nothing. She sat back rubbing her forehead.

"What do you need?" Ana asked squatting down next to her. Moira looked over at her and her eyes fell on the gun she had tucked into the belt around her jeans.

"The gun. Actually a bullet. I need the gun powder." Moira explained when Ana threw her a questioning glance. Ana seemed reluctant to have to give up one of the precious bullets but soon consented and opened the barrel plucking one out. She bit the bottom and pulled it apart handing the larger portion of it with the powder still in it to Moira.

She was insane. She wasn't even sure if this was going to work but she had to try. The gun powder would help to cauterize the bleeding and hopefully stop any infection. Once they reached the other side of island the other doctor – a Jack – would be able to help out better. They seemed to have a better handle on medical supplies.

With a silent prayer Moira poured the black powder into the wound then reached into her jean pocket and pulled out the Bic lighter. She really wished she had a cigarette to go with it. Holding her breath she held it to the wound and then flicked it.

Sawyer jerked awake screaming and his good arm had come up, his hand clasping around Moira's throat. He muttered a curse and stared at her. She clawed at his hand trying to break free and just before she was sure she would pass out Ana had pulled him off of her and Sawyer had once again passed out.

Moira fell back on the ground gasping for breath. She had survived a plane crash to only have almost lost her life to a man she was trying to save. Oh the fucking irony.

A/N: In no way am I a doctor - I'm just pretending hence the reason this is called fiction. I'm not even sure if gunpowder can even be used in that way so just roll with me here folks.