Note: This chapter was originally written prior to the three most recent episodes. I envisioned Jack as more reticent about the guns when I wrote this, and I've left it as is despite recent developments.

Chapter 10

"Better never to have met you in my dream

than to wake and reach for hands that are not there."

- Otomo No Yakamochi

Sayid was sitting in the sand cross-legged, trying to salvage parts from the radio he had taken from the propeller plane. He was about to admit defeat when Hurley quickly made his way toward him—as quickly as he could, that was.

"Jack sent me," Hurley called when he was a few feet away.

Sayid gracefully stood up, pushing off his feet without the use of his hands, as a child, but not many men, can do. "Is she awake?" he asked anxiously.

"Dude," said Hurley, "not only is the woman awake, but the fever's totally gone, and she's like grabbing guns off the wall of the hatch and insisting someone show her where the Others hang out. Jack said you better get there right away."

Sayid made haste back to the hatch, feeling his heart beat quicken as he made his way down and then through the hall. Nadia was indeed awake, and she was sorting through the guns, checking the chambers, taking the weapons apart, reassembling them, judging their weight, and testing the feel of the stocks against her body. John Locke, who was on shift, had strayed from the computer and was watching her with a half smile. When he saw Sayid, he nodded to him, looked back at Nadia, and said, "I think I'm in love."

Sayid knew Nadia must have had some experience around guns, given her past associations and her family's wealth of possessions. But he was certainly surprised by the speed and adeptness with which she handled and examined them and by the almost militaristic flourish to her actions.

Jack looked anxiously at Sayid and said, "You didn't tell me she spoke English. We thought she was asleep for the last eight or nine hours, but she must have overheard everything Locke and I said when we were talking near her. She woke up knowing her husband had been taken by the Others and looking for the guns. You have to stop her."

Nadia turned at the sound of Jack's voice, and, seeing Sayid, she returned the gun she was presently about to examine to the rack. For a moment, she did no more than stare at him, her eyes roaming his face. But then she rushed forward and embraced him. "Sayid," she said, "It is you." Soon enough, she seemed to realize the over-familiarity of her gesture, and she abruptly withdrew. "How," she said, "How did you—"

"I was on a plane that crashed here," he said. "I was…I was on my way to L.A. to find you."

She glanced down at her wedding ring. "Sayid…" she murmured, her voice full of pity and, he thought, perhaps regret.

"I know," he said. "You never promised to wait. I looked anyway."

She nodded. Then, without any further effort to become reacquainted, she said, "You must help me. I think this one is best for your build." She handed him an AR-15.

"Nadia, what do you expect to accomplish here?"

"I am going to recapture Nasser, of course. My husband. Who else here is adept in the use of these guns?"

"Nadia, you cannot do this. It is suicide."

"Suicide?" she asked. "How many of you are there?"

"Over 40."

"Over 40? And all these guns? And how many of them are there?"

"That is precisely the problem," answered Sayid. "We have no idea. And we have no idea what their motives are. For that matter, we have no idea of the motives of the people who left the guns here. What is more, there are only a few survivors who are skilled in the use of firearms—"

She looked at him with surprise. "Only a few, Sayid? Why have you not trained them all? It sounds to me as if you are threatened on every side."

"Nadia," his voice was low and defensive, almost angry, "you do not know what is happening in this place. Defer to my knowledge. Abandon this mad scheme."

"My husband is out there, Sayid, and I am going to do this. I would like you to come with me."

Sayid lowered his eyes. It was not the first time she had said such words to him. He had refused her once already. "This time, Nadia, it is not because of cowardice that I do not come with you."

"Then come with me, Sayid."

Sayid closed his eyes, repressed his better judgment, and answered, "I will come with you."

"Who else?" she asked.

"My shift's about over," said Locke. "And Bernard is on his way to replace me. I'm game." Then he left briefly to type the numbers into the computer before returning.

"I'll come with you," said Father Marcus, who had been listening silently to their exchange and who now walked over to join them.

"You are wounded," said Sayid.

"It is minor. Stitched and treated," he said. "Not much worse than her leg." He nodded towards Nadia. "At worst, it will open again. But then, it sounds like I could more easily die. So what's a re-opened wound?"

Nadia looked toward him. "I appreciate your support, but a priest…have you ever handled a gun?"

He smiled. "Yes, you could say that. I was a Marine sniper."

Nadia asked Father Marcus to choose his weapon. She had already chosen for herself an AR-15, a handgun, and a knife, and the last two she had strapped onto a belt, along with extra magazines and ammunition. She now fashioned the heavy gear around herself.

"Now," said Locke, taking down a gun himself, "either Eko or Ana Lucia can lead us to the general location of the Others. We'll need to get at least one of them to go."

"Eko is best," said Sayid. "Ana will not set foot in their territory again."

"That," said Locke, "was before she saw all the guns. You should have seen her when she followed you here yesterday. Her eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store. And I can bet Michael is going to want to join us, if there is any chance we might find Walt." Nadia glanced at the bald man, a question written in her eyes. "Walt is a boy—Michael's son—who was taken by the Others."

They returned to camp to find additional recruits. Ana Lucia, comforted by the idea of firepower, agreed to show Nadia where she thought the Others were. Eko was more reluctant to join them, but even though he thought the mission futile, he agreed to it simply because Nadia had asked him directly for his help. He followed her as he had once followed Michael, because he would not desert a soul in need. With Michael, that made a group of seven.

Sawyer said he wanted to come but that he feared he would slow them down because his wound still impaired him. He was not as accustomed to persisting in the face of pain as were Marcus and Nadia. Jin, too, wanted to join the company, but Sun begged him not to, and he at length surrendered to her plea; he had put her through too much already. Kate, however, threw her lot in with the rest.

"Oh, no you don't," said Jack, who had followed the group back to the beach camp.

"Excuse me?" asked Kate, with a raised eyebrow.

"You aren't going with them," Jack said decisively, but his voice, as always, betrayed a hint of insecurity.

"Yes," she said. "Yes I am."

Jack ran his hands across the close-cut hair of his scalp with frustration. He looked at the eight of them, eyes darting from one face to the other. "Guns can't solve every problem," he said.

"No," replied Nadia, "but neither can wishful thinking."

"I am going," repeated Kate.

Sawyer smiled smugly at Jack. "What do ya know, doc," he said. "Guess the little filly has a mind of her own. I for one never would have guessed it." He gave Kate a wink.

Kate turned on Sawyer with a warning, but not entirely unaffectionate, look.