The wind brushed a few strands of hair into Claire's face as she stood at a corner of her tent, untying the knot of a piece of rope that kept the roof from flying away in the breeze. She readjusted the knot, tying it tighter around the edge of the bamboo that acted as the backbone of her shelter. It was another perfect day, the sky so blue and clear, she felt like she could see right through it. The water of the ocean just as crystal, translucent, clouds bouncing through the waves in the reflection. She looked over to Charlie, who was walking up and down the beach, with Aaron in tow, wrapped snugly in the cotton-knit sling he made for her awhile back. He was getting bigger and bigger as the days went on, her son a human measuring stick of how much time has truly passed. This wasn't the environment she wanted to raise her son in. She didn't want to be afraid anymore, for him and for herself. Three months they'd been living on the beach, surviving. How much longer would they last?

After she was done adjusting the tent, she picked up a basket of clean, wet laundry, and made her way over to the lines to hang them out to dry. She stopped in her tracks at the sight of Kate, bending over the edge of the community trough, filling her water bottle, obviously distracted, but quiet like she'd been for an entire month now. She straightened, twisted the top and shoved it into her pack before bringing it over her shoulder. Claire knew what that meant. For the longest time, she watched her as she came to and from the beach, only to do it all over again the very next day.

She studied her, desperate to hear the sound of her voice after so many weeks of not knowing what to say and how to initiate. Couldn't she sit still for five seconds? Claire thought to herself. Every time she thought she had a grip on her nerves, some resolve that could match her desire to speak up, Kate was gone, disappearing past the treeline and into the heart of darkness, leaving Claire to wonder if there was any connection left on her end, to what they meant to each other.

On a hopeless whim, determination burning with a sudden anger, she dropped her laundry basket into the sand at her feet, and literally marched over to Kate, who was just about to turn to leave until she heard someone speak out.

"Wait." Claire yelped, catching Kate off guard. She turned to the blonde, who hadn't thought past getting her attention. Kate's dim eyes brightened at the sight of her, all nervous and hopeful, but she had that stubborn crease set in her brow.

"Claire. Hey." She didn't quite know what to say, and that didn't go over well with Claire at all.

"'Hey'? After a month of avoiding me, that's all you have to say?" Claire wasted no time airing her frustration.

Startled, Kate came closer. "What? Claire, wait…I—"

"I miss you, Kate." She said it with such conviction, but there was so much more going on there. She felt abandoned and genuinely hurt, and Kate could see it in her eyes. She caused more damage staying away than she ever thought possible. "Don't you miss me, too? Don't you care anymore?"

"Of course I miss you Claire, and of course I still care." Kate defended herself. "I think about you and Aaron constantly, and I felt terrible for stepping away," she saw the anger filtering through Claire's eyes change form, "but I had to."

"Why?" Claire asked.

Did she really have to spell it out for her? Kate thought. "Because I'm one of very few who believes that Jack is coming back, and you don't."

"I never said I didn't believe that he was coming back." Claire admitted, and then her eyes fell to the ground in shame. "I didn't say much of anything, really."

That was her mistake, she already knew. Instead of being there for Kate, she was the one who distanced herself and kept quiet on the issue of Jack and rescue. She had so many opportunities to speak up in support of her, but she wasn't sure what to believe, who to trust. She was just as much to blame for their divide as Kate, which made her feel terrible for bombarding her just now. They were both side-stepping each other based on misunderstanding and confusion.

"I should have been there for you, Kate. I'm so sorry."

Kate brought her arms around her, bundling her into a hug. Claire hugged her back immediately, her breath escaping her lungs in pure relief. Kate pulled back, smiling down at her as she walked over towards the vacant tent where Rose tended to her. "Come on, let's sit down and talk." Once they were settled side-by-side, Kate turned to her, the first to speak.

"There's been so much tension about Jack and who believes what. I don't want to rock the boat again, so I keep to myself. I'm really sorry that hurt your feelings." She looked out at the water, the wind wild in her hair. "Everyone looks at me differently now. I didn't know who I could trust."

Claire spoke up, her voice choked with emotion. "I just don't want to raise my son on this Island, you know?" Kate saw the worry in her beautiful blue eyes, and wanted so badly to take it away. "I want Aaron to have a normal life. I don't want him to grow up here."

Kate nodded slowly. "I know you do." She suddenly smiled, letting laughter fill the air between them. "I remember the night Aaron was born like it was yesterday. I was so scared."

Claire scoffed playfully, rolling her eyes as she laughed. "You were scared? I was the one who was in labor."

"Okay, okay, we were both pretty scared," Kate laughed, then her voice was serious again, somber, "but honestly, the moment I knew what was happening, that you were in labor, I was ready to run in the opposite direction. One of those habits that just won't die." She shrugged bashfully. "Jin had come back from going to get Jack and told Charlie that he wasn't coming and that I had to deliver your baby."

Claire noticed that Kate went to some other place just then. Her eyes "Jack believed that I could do it, he trusted me, but I didn't. I didn't think I was capable of being calm for you and being there for you in the way you needed me to be." Her eyes landed on Claire's face again, her smile bright and proud. "But I did, I was. And he's here and he's beautiful and healthy."

"I was just so stuck in my own confusion, I never considered what you're going through," the confusion was evident in Kate's eyes, so Claire elaborated, "being here without him." No further elaboration was necessary. Kate knew exactly who Claire was referring to. It had to be obvious to everyone with eyes and a sense of humanity that the longer Jack was away, the more distressed she became.

"I miss him." So much, she thought to herself. It was as simple as that. No frills, just the achingly long burn of longing that never went away. She offered a sad smile instead of saying it. "It's so hard being on this beach, expecting to see him walking around with this…pensive look on his face, like the world is on his shoulders and he's alone with it, like no one can understand."

He worried about them so much, suffered for them, she thought. She was really the only person who saw into the window of how much he struggled to be everything he could possibly be for everyone and how failing at even a slight of that was enough to drive him crazy. She understood all too well. It was a part of their connection, a big part, what grounded them and made them so unique. What he shouldered, she shouldered. What he had to bear, whether it was guilt, shame, triumph or sadness, she willingly bore with him. That was who they were to each other, and there were still levels they had yet to discover together, levels she caught herself dreaming about.

"I know that Jack is a good person, Kate. He's always been good to me and Aaron, and I don't think that he could just get on a sub and leave us behind," that brought hope to Kate's heart, but Claire wasn't finished, "but the Others, they're a dangerous group of people who do very dangerous things. I don't trust them, and he sided with them."

Kate shook her head. She heard that reasoning before, from Sayid and it sounded even worse coming from Claire, who was only rehearsing what she heard others say, what others believed. "Just because Jack was with them, doesn't mean he was with them." She reasoned. "He stayed behind to save me and Sawyer's lives. I tried to get him back, but he already had this plan in action and he wasn't gonna abandon it." Kate turned her entire body into Claire, determined. "He never stopped caring about us, and I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he's gonna find help. He told me he would. He wouldn't lie to me about something like that."

Kate could see Claire softening, so she pleaded her case while she still could. "Can you trust him, Claire? Can you trust me? That I'm telling the truth when I tell you that Jack didn't side with them over coming back with me? That he has every intention of rescuing us?"

Claire looked away momentarily, earnestly deliberating what Kate was asking her to believe. After another beat, she turned to her friend and nodded with a grin on her face. "Yeah." Kate closed her eyes with the reveal of another brilliant smile, her relief released in a heavy sigh. "He wouldn't lie to you and you wouldn't lie to me."

"Thank you." Kate said.

Claire cocked her head, still confused about something. "But, that doesn't explain why you leave the beach every day, for hours."

Kate rubbed the space between her eyebrows with her fingertips, letting a sigh funnel through her lips. "I'm not sure I can explain it, Claire, to you or to myself. All that I know is that it's something that I feel compelled to do. There's—" Someone walked past the tent they were sitting under, within earshot of what they were saying, and Kate immediately stopped talking. She pulled Claire in closer, whispering against her cheek.

"There's something out there, in the jungle, that I need to find. I don't know what it is or why or how this is happening to me, but I know that I have to see it through."

Claire didn't question what she was telling her, nor did she challenge it. She followed suit and whispered. "How long will it take you to find…whatever it is you're looking for?"

"I don't know." Kate answered, her eyes darting between the others on the beach and Claire. "It doesn't really work according to any time table. I just leave every day, hoping to find it. I'm getting closer though."

"You said you feel compelled to do this?" Claire asked, still trying to understand what her friend was telling her.

"Yeah. I've felt it ever since my first night back on the beach." Kate searched for the right words, her vocabulary drastically limited, she realized. "It's more like this…pull that I have towards the jungle and it gets stronger the further I trek." Claire's eyes bulged, even wandered a bit, looking away from Kate with blank overwhelmness. She knew how she sounded, and wouldn't have believed this if she were hearing it herself.

Kate scowled. "That sounds crazy, right?"

"Just a little." Claire admitted, the disbelieving look on Kate's face making her chuckle before admitting her true thoughts. "Okay, a lot." They giggled simultaneously.

Underneath the playful rubbing, there was unsettled anxiety for Claire, Kate realized. "You're worried about me." Just like Rose had been, just like Sawyer still was.

"Well, of course I am."She exclaimed. "I don't wanna lose you."

Kate took both of Claire's hands into hers, squeezing them, caressing them. "You won't."

There were tears in her eyes as she said it, her voice straining over the fullness of her heart, over how much she meant to Claire and how much she meant to her. "I'm always gonna care, Claire. Even if my head is wrapped around something even I don't understand, nothing can make me stop loving you and Aaron."

She took pause, considering her next words, the rightness of them settling for her. "You're my family." That gloomy, angry cloud that had been hanging over Claire had moved along. She had her best friend back, but she knew that she had to go, and there was no telling when she wouldn't have to leave so much, so often.

Claire rubbed the outside of Kate's hands as she continued to hold to hers. "Promise me you'll be safe out there?"

Kate settled a hand over Claire's shoulder. "I promise."

The once clear blue sky was now muddled with dark, stormy grays. It had been that way for hours, a storm settling over them like a thunderous blanket. Rain dropped down in a cadenced pitter-patter on the surface of everything in his path. Kate shivered under her wet hooded jacket as she thought about her nice dry tent, and why God was always so cruel to her. She hadn't stopped moving for hours, picking up on what was left of her own trail, the one she left for herself the night before. The faster she moved, the less time she had to spend in the slippery gloom of the jungle. She was bound to hurt herself as she strained to see in front of her; so much for promising Claire that she would be safe. She knew there was always a risk with coming out here alone, she still heard Rose's objections to it, but she just had to.

As Kate wandered off course, her trail completely washed off by the rain, it suddenly stopped, like someone turned the dial of a shower. She paused in her stride, grateful for the sudden change, but also challenged by it. The eerily calm of the jungle was more noticeable now than it was before. It was almost too quiet. The caw of birds was missing, the squeak of tiny insects was absent and the pace of small game under flat leaves and tall grass couldn't be heard either. She was alone more than ever before. She held herself in place, and reached for the handgun she stuffed into the front pocket of her backpack, for easy access. Like the whisper of the wind, she heard faint, but steady twittering, echoing through the dampness. She whipped her head to where the sounds came from and what she saw once the noise drifted drained the blood from her face.

A sketchy dart of black smoke zagged through the trees like flog. She'd seen this before and remembered her heart jumping into her throat and her palms becoming unnervingly sweaty. The Smoke Monster, she thought with periled distress. She knew what she needed to do. She needed to get out of there. Once she actually noticed her surroundings, looking around for the path of her great escape, she realized that she stood in the middle of a wide clearing, completely exposed. There was nowhere to hide. She was in plain sight, ripe for the Monster's picking. Then, she heard a harrowing, terse, bloodthirsty squawk in the near distance that cut right through her surprise and fear. She had to run.

Her legs began to move on out of an autonomic response to fear, pushing her towards a bundle of trees at the bank of the clearing, as fast she could, but not fast enough. As soon as she passed the treeline, she felt the ground quake viciously on the arrival of a loud, earth-shattering explosion, knocking her flat on the ground, her pack falling from her shoulder. She screamed as dirt rained over her. It was the most powerful thing she'd ever experienced. Another thud shook nearby, leaves and brush flattening under the weight of something that had fallen over them. Suddenly she noticed where the tree she just passed once stood was now a gaping hole in the ground. Another tree of the same kind suffered the same fate, projecting from the ground with a dangerously strong energy, and then descending over another bed of shrub, with raucous abandonment. Frightened by what she just saw and the dissonant, deafening choir of grinding and rumbling that literally bounced off of each other, Kate scooted up from her now muddied backside, pushed herself off the ground, grabbed her pack and ran as fast as her legs could carry her.

The jungle now bled with booming noises, growling hisses and needle-pitched howls. She couldn't hear her own screams, her own heartbeat, or her own thoughts. No matter how fast and how far she ran, she could still hear the noises all around her. Her boots slid through the muddy terrain, her coordination compromised by the slick slug that she was now caked in. In her blind panic, she saw relief up ahead, a large outlay of bamboo, bundled together tightly. Slipping through the looser stalks, she hadn't noticed that Jack's watch fell from her pants pocket, dropping into a swatch of mud, a corner of its band poking through. She stood back against the stalks like a statue, frozen in hiding. Her eyes closed in relief at her quick thinking, but squinted in scrutiny once she finally noticed the corner of shining sliver poking through the sludge where she came in. She stuck her hand in her pocket and realized that Jack's watch was missing. She immediately bent to the ground and desperately reached for it through the confines of the bamboo, but her fingers, covered in mud, were just inches shy of grabbing it into her palm.

"Come on…" She whispered through a hasty breath, urging herself onward, willing her arm to reach.

She groaned, the muscles in her arm burning dreadfully, but she wouldn't give up. When her fingertips teased the exposed band, she heard and felt earth-shaking stomps in the distance, approaching her, one heavy thump after another, causing her to slip back, her knees too wet, the ground too slippery and unsteady to hold. She stood and moved back into the protection of the bamboo grove, hoping for another chance to reach for it, but afraid to move even an inch. Low, daunting growls came closer, until they were sitting right on top of her. The fear filled her from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. She didn't know what to do, so she counted.

"One…Two…Three…"

Pounding chatters became louder, residual blares resting over fresh, new ones. She looked up, slivers of dreary sky she did see paid her little reprieve. She could get out of this, all she needed to do was control her fear, put it away like she had before time and time before. "Four…" Finally, the snarling backed down, faded away as suddenly as the rainy mist had.

"Five."

Kate opened her eyes and it was all gone. The Smoke Monster conceded, whisking in another direction, shrill shrieking fading with the black smoke. The turbulent clouds remained, causing shadows to appear in the distance. She stood there for minutes, just to make sure the Monster wasn't hiding itself from her, waiting on her to reveal herself so it could pounce. Eventually, she came out from her hiding place and kneeled in the mud to retrieve the watch. She took a cloth out of her pack and diligently wiped away at the face, praying with all her might that she hadn't broken it. The second-hand still ticked away. It still worked. She sighed a breath of relief. She sat for a moment, taking her time with cleaning it off with gentle strokes, the soppy mud dropping to the ground. Once it was cleaned off, she put it in the front pocket of her pack.

Since coming from the bamboo stand, she looked out at her settings and discovered that this was new, unexplored soil. She had never seen this before, hadn't even begun to assess what could be out here. Granted every leaf looked as green and glistening wet as the last one she saw and other details were familiar, but they didn't feel familiar. It was like she jumped down a rabbit hole and popped up in another world entirely. She was literally drowning in this place. She no longer held the upper hand here, there were no tracks to follow, no landmarks to remind her of where she'd come from, of where she was going. Besides the Smoke Monster's virulent attempt to kill her, nothing had ever made her feel so terrified and isolated.

That eerie, restless feeling returned to her, knocking the wind out of her. She caught her bearings, rose and began walking, her handgun held tightly between her balled fist at her side. She was, somehow, absolutely sure of where she was going, her legs suddenly growing minds and motivations of their own. Shivering cold, she gradually strode through the withering grass. Eventually, she saw something through the thin lining of trees and long vines that tangled between them. From her vantage point, it looked like a shed, an outhouse maybe, a man-made structure for sure, something that didn't belong in such virgin territory. Walking faster, she finally met the structure full-on.

An old, tilting, wooden shack stood before her, garnished with stringy branches full with leaves and bare vines. It looked sinister and daunting, like darkness resided there. She reluctantly, yet curiously and adventurously, approached the cabin. With relief she never thought she would experience in this situation, the pull that left her sleepless and active was its strongest here and so was her feeling of something familiar, even though she'd never seen it before in her life.

This rusting cabin in the middle of nowhere was her anchor, it was what exalted her. She thought it impossible, incomprehensible, that this ramshackle hut was what she needed, but it was. She could feel it with every rattled bone in her quivering body.

She found what she was looking for.

Stepping closer, Kate noticed a ditched, thick line of blackish-gray ash that looped around the entire cabin in a big circle. She stepped back then, deliberating her next move. Obviously someone made it so that this cabin was protected from outsiders. Curiosity beating out her trepidations, she stepped over the ash and moved towards the door. She moved slowly, her gun still tucked in between her fingers, ready to be aimed at any moment. What if someone lived here? She thought to herself. What if she was trespassing? The cabin, from what she saw of it on the outside, was inhospitable, and the black ash circling it like a mystical fence wasn't helping to change her perception, but she had to go in. It was tantamount to breathing. She'd traveled so far for this, risked so much; she had to see this through. Nothing could stop her now.

She walked up the creaking steps of the porch, a lantern hung on a post nearby. Deciding to use her flashlight instead, Kate pulled it out of her pack, and turned it on. The door was wood also, its knob made of a kind of metal, rusting at the bulb. She turned the door knob, and with putting her gun and flashlight in position, she bolted inside the doorframe of the cabin, the creak of the door hinges as her soundtrack. She pointed her gun and her flashlight into the dark spaces of the tent, finding nothing but dirtied walls and spider webbed shelves. No one was inside. The putrefied scent of the place was almost pungent enough to send her back into the jungle, but she ventured onward.

Lowering her weapon, but keeping the flashlight at eye-level and moving it wherever her eyes wandered, Kate studied the contents of the cabin. A few windows, tinted with dirt, offered some source of light, but not much. A faded painting of a dog hung near one window, and the sill of another held jars of some kind of reddish-orange viscous liquid. In the middle of the room stood a wooden table, matched with a rocking chair, both covered in a bed of filth. Nearby were an old sink and an ancient wood-burning stove, sitting directly across from a small bed that sat atop a scrawny tin frame. There was literally nothing salvageable about the place, whoever lived here was long gone with no intent to return.

Disappointed with her discovery, Kate leaned into the wooden table and rubbed at her forehead. The good and bad news dawned on her. The good news was she found what she needed to find, the bad news was that it was this decrepit cabin with nothing but grime holding it together. She stood still for a few minutes, mourning the fact that her reality hadn't met her expectations. Heaving a tired, frustrated breath, she picked herself up and reached for the door knob. As soon as the door released, she heard a soft, ghostly whisper temper with the wind that blew through the open entrance.

"Kate…"

She stopped in her tracks and turned back towards the interior quickly, pointing her gun in the direction of the tone, meeting abnormal shadows from the windows, of the trees outside, waving in the breeze, and nothing more. Someone was there. She heard someone say her name. She heard it loud and clear. How was that possible? How was any of this possible? She felt chilled to the bone, absolutely petrified.

She walked a bit further inward, her voice shouting in horror. "Who's there?" Her gun was still pointed, darting to and fro with the glow of her flashlight. She was alone, there was no one else in that cabin with her, but why did it feel like someone was there? Who was calling out to her, and why?

Despite her panic, this voice sounded so familiar, but it gave her little comfort to hear it. Or did she hear it at all? Was this her mind playing tricks on her? Was this a manifestation of her sometimes overactive imagination? Was she so desperate for this place to harbor all of the answers that she imagined hearing what she heard? With no answer and no physical relic of anyone keeping her company, unease filled her, uncertainty plagued her and bewilderment set in like a sickness. She was going crazy, that was the only logical explanation. She knew she had to get away from this place.

She nervously combed a shaky set of fingers through her hair, completely frightened, her chest pushing up and down in labored breathing. She was suddenly dizzy, her gun losing focus in her hand, her vision hazy behind the film of tears in her eyes.

Ineptly backing into the opened door, she ran away as fast as she could.

The jungle was dark now, the tempestuous clouds moved through, allowing the half moon to bloom. John Locke sat under the light glow of his campfire, in practiced vigil. He threw the rest of his water over the small fire, the flames dying out instantly, and a light twirl of white smoke emanated from the wood that remained. He spent weeks in the jungle, watching, studying patterns and now it was time. He stepped forward, past his campsite and bent to his knee, observing with undivided, unbreakable attention. He kneeled at the edge of a tall hill as he looked down towards his target with a devious glint in his shadowy eyes.

With a panoramic view, high enough to see everything yet far enough away not to be detected by the security detail that were no doubt in place, Locke was overlooking the entire span of the Others' compound. Tiny dots of faint light were sprinkled through the camp, porch-lights that hadn't been turned out and lampposts that illuminated the open courtyards. There was movement, people turning into their homes, walking around and one after another, those tiny dots of light went out, like stars burning absent in the night sky. He could see everything from this position, especially Ben's home, his porch-light still burning bright.

Last time, he made the mistake of evading Ben, of going for his submarine without any thought to him, only to find that he was puppeteer, the man behind the curtain. By going after Ben first, by putting him in a position of fear and desperation, by rendering his security measures useless, he would have no choice but to confess to his devious plot. This was the only way to play it. Keeping his distance was getting him nowhere. He had to move and he had a plan that would guarantee results, granted no one got in his way.

He couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he saw him again. He wouldn't be able to talk his way out of this one. With what Locke knew now, he finally had the upper-hand. He knew exactly what Ben had done, what he wanted to accomplish and he needed to figure out a way to stop him, and the best way to accomplish that would be to know his overall scheme. Those futile pleas to show him the Island, to give him all the answers he dared to dream of felt all the more deceptive and fake in hindsight. Thank God he hadn't fallen for them, that he decided to venture out and trust his own instincts, instead of that need to know, urge to understand, no matter who was offering the helping hand.

To no avail, he tried to find more temples, artifacts, ancient ruins, anything that could give him more information, but it was as if nothing else existed in that regard. He was still so confused about so much. Jack's role in all of this was still unclear. Why Ben was going through so much trouble to destroy the Island, a place he seemed to care about more than himself, a place that was home for his daughter and so many others he claimed to want to protect. It didn't make sense, but Locke trusted it. There was a twisted logic, a baleful plot embedded within everything Ben did, and watching him bid Jack farewell on that dock was his perverse reasoning hard at work. He had to be out of his mind to have come back here, but this wasn't a mission without meticulous merit and guided purpose, this was about what the Island wanted, what Jacob asked of Ben and was denied.

He thought about the people who could get caught in the crossfire. He thought about Alex, that poor girl, so desperate for freedom that she thought of him as her way out. The irony of it hadn't been lost on him. He wasn't a safe alternative to her father; he was more reckless than he'd ever been. He was back at the scene of his last crime, and he was ready to cause more damage. He didn't want her anywhere near this, but he found that as Ben's daughter, there was no way around involving her; there was no way for him to guarantee to himself that she wouldn't get hurt any more than she already has been. He found that he cared about her, but he couldn't allow that to distract him from what he came to do. He couldn't allow Ben to destroy the Island.

He could still hear Christian in his head, echoing, pressing.

'As of right now, your focus is Benjamin, in what his next move will be, what he's planning, because Jacob knows that he has a plan. He always has a plan.'

Locke readied himself while he continued to pay close attention to the outline of the compound. He assessed his handgun's clip, making sure the right amount of ammunition was in place. He didn't anticipate shooting anyone, but he would without hesitation if anyone got in his way. He shoved the clip back into the handgun's handle with his palm. His knife sat at his waist where it always had, sharp and pointed. He stood, tugging at his backpack's strap, easing it over his shoulder.

He backed away from his perch on the hill, crouching low, and trekked behind trees that hid him from view, determined more than ever to reach Ben and thwart his plan once and for all.