A/N: Okay, this takes place ten years after Lord of the Flies. I hope you like it. I wrote it cause I was bored and I just finished the book. Tell me what you think.

Title: Never Forgotten, Never Forgiven

Ralph ran through the blazing jungle. He couldn't see. He couldn't breath. He was going to die, and he knew it. If the fire didn't get him, Jack and his hunters certainly would. He was alone on this island. Simon and Piggy were gone. If Jack caught him…there was nothing he could do.

He tripped over a tree root, and his face hit the sand. He could hear footsteps. They were coming towards him. He knew who it was, even if he was lying facedown on the beach. He was going to die.

"Get up, Ralph!" Snarled a cruel voice.

Ralph forced himself to his feet, staring into the eyes of Jack. He knew he should be scared, but all he felt was anger and hate. Jack was a murderer. And Ralph would never forgive him.

Jack jabbed him in the chest, forcing him back a step.

"Stop it, Jack!" Ralph shouted. "You cant do this!"

"Yeah?" Jack raised the spear. "Who's gonna stop me?"

Ralph stared to run. Jack threw the spear at his feet, causing him to fall to the ground. He turned onto his back trying to crawl away as fast as he could.

Jack advanced on him, raising his spear again. "You're alone, Ralph." He taunted. "No one's gonna save you!" He brought the spear down, straight into Ralph's…

BRING! BRING! BRING!

Ralph sat up in bed, groggy and agitated. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, then grabbed the pillow and put it over his face.

BRING! BRING! BRING!

Damn dreams! Why couldn't he get a peaceful night's sleep? It had been ten years since he was trapped on the island. Ten long years since he had seen Jack.

BRING! BRING! BRING!

He just couldn't forget or forgive Jack. He had gotten away scot-free. No jail. No Juvenile Hall. Nothing. He was a murderer, there was no other word for it.

BRING! BRING! BRING!

Ralph could feel the anger growing inside him. The white hot rage that always came over him, every time he thought about Jack.

BRING! BRING! BRING!

"SHUT THE HELL UP, YOU DAMNED MACHINE! I'M ALREADY AWAKE!" He roared. He turned over in bed, hitting the alarm clock so hard that it smashed. Most of the pieces fell to the floor, but some remained on the nightstand. Ralph swore. Now he had to buy a new alarm clock. Just great.

Grumbling, he glanced at his wristwatch, having just broken the only other clock in the room. It was a quarter to nine. He swore loudly, hurling himself out of bed and towards the closet.

By the time Ralph got to work that morning, he was in an even worse mood. His water had been shut off, so he hadn't had a chance to shave or shower. He'd gotten a call from the electric company threatening to cut the power if he didn't pay the bill soon. And now he was half an hour late for work. Ralph swore. He hated Mondays.

Grumbling profanities, Ralph punched in and headed for his locker. This was his third time being late that month. If he wasn't careful, he'd be fired. And with the bills piling up, that just wasn't something he could afford. He was halfway to the locker-room when he heard someone call his name.

"Hey! Prewitt! Ralph!"

Ralph turned to see Gordon Walters running toward him. Gordon was a rather large gentleman, with multiple chins and a humorous attitude. He stopped when he reached Ralph, gasping for breath and trying to speak at the same time.

"Glad…I caught you…Prewitt." He panted. "Boss…wants you…in…his office."

Ralph tensed, dreading the answer to his next question. "Why? What's he want?"

Gordon shrugged, still panting. "I…don't know. All…he said…was he wanted…you."

Ralph sighed. "Alright then. I'd better go. Thanks, Walters."

"Don't…mention it." Gordon replied as Ralph set off for Mr. Renald's office. As he walked down the hall, he couldn't help thinking of Piggy. Gordon Walters was what Ralph imagined Piggy would look like now…if he had lived past the age of twelve.

His head spinning, Ralph entered the Boss' office, sure he was about to be fired. He was, in fact, utterly surprised to find another man in the office with Mr. Renald. The man was about his age, had red hair and bright, blue eyes, and was oddly familiar. Too familiar.

"Prewitt! There you are!" Barked Mr. Renald. "This is-"

"Jack." Snarled Ralph. The man looked at him in confusion for a moment, then comprehension dawned on his face, almost immediately replaced by alarm and something close to fear.

"Er…Yes. This is Jack Merridew. Do you to know each other?"

Ralph glowered at Jack for several minutes, then shook his head. "No sir. Lucky guess."

Mr. Renald frowned slightly, then seemed to take his word for it. "Well then. This is Jack Merridew. He's just started at Phonetix Inc. I want you to stay with him for his first few days, give him a tour of the building, teach him how things run around here. Understand?"

Ralph ground his teeth for a moment, then nodded. "Yessir." He replied, as politely as he could. "Understood."

Ralph lead Jack to the locker-rooms in silence. His entire body felt numb. Half of him wanted to forget what had happened on the island, but the other half of him want to send Jack to the Emergency Room.

Once they had reached the locker-room, Ralph thrust a hardhat, three sets of uniforms, and a locker key into Jack's hands. Jack stumbled backwards, and Ralph felt a feeling of grim satisfaction at the look on his face.

"You need to put those on." He explained, his voice filled with venom, pointing at the hardhat and uniforms. "You've got three uniforms, so remember to throw them in the laundry shoot on the third floor when you've got only one clean. Any questions?"

Jack looked at him, setting the bundle he had just been given down on the bench. "Yeah, I've got a few questions." He snarled. "What the hell is your problem? Why cant you just forget what happened on that damned island? Why are you being so-"

Before he could finish, Ralph had him pinned against a row of lockers. "Don't you dare!" He shouted. "Don't you dare finish that sentence, you murdering son of a-"

"Give it a rest, Ralph!" He replied angrily. "It's been ten years!"

Ralph hit him in the face. Jack fell to the ground, his nose bleeding freely. "Yeah? Guess what, Jack? It doesn't make a damn difference! It's been ten years. PIGGY AND SIMON ARE STILL DEAD!"

Jack struggled to his feet, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve. "It wasn't-"

"Don't you dare say it wasn't your fault! You told the others to attack Simon. It was one of your hunters who hit Piggy with the rock!" He punched Jack again, this time in the stomach.

Winded, Jack clutched his stomach. "Ralph…listen to me!" He choked. "It was…I didn't mean any of it! I was scared! We all were!"

"Is that your excuse for murder!" Another punch. This time, he hear something crack under his fist. Perhaps a broken nose.

Jack sank to the floor, choking on his own blood. He was hurt badly. Something that gave Ralph that feeling of grim satisfaction again.

He stopped the attack, leaning over Jack and snarling into his ear. "You're lucky I don't kill you, Jack. After what you did, you deserve it." Then he stood and walked away, a strange sense of guilt turning in his stomach, leaving Jack to choke and splutter on the floor of the locker-room.

Ralph stood in the ally between the Factory and another building belonging to his employers. He was leaning against a wall, his eyes closed, shadow covering his face like a dark blanket. Even though it was midday, the ally was very dark.

He sighed and shook himself slightly. It had been one week since the incident in the locker room. He hadn't seen Jack since. He knew he was being avoided, and for some reason, this made guilt writhe within his stomach every time he thought about it. But why? Jack deserved what he had gotten. That and so much more. Why should he feel guilty?

Because he regrets it. Whispered a voice in his head. Because it was long ago. And he tried to explain that to you, didn't he? But you wouldn't listen. You were to busy opening old wounds.

"No." Ralph whispered. "He doesn't regret it. If he did, he would turn himself in."

But was that true? Yes, of course it was! If Jack regretted his crimes as much as he claimed, he would want to serve his time in jail. Wouldn't he? Ralph ground his teeth in frustration. This whole thing was so confusing! He wanted to hate Jack. He needed to hate Jack. It was one of the few things that had kept him going these past few years. And yet…

He heard a sharp intake of breath, and opened his eyes, looking around. Jack had just stepped into the ally, his eyes wide in shock and fear. He hesitated, then turned towards the door he had exited the Factory from.

Ralph stepped forward, blocking the door. He made no sound, but the sudden movement made Jack step backwards in surprise. Ralph sighed. "I'm sorry."

Jack shook his head, suddenly angry. "Don't be sorry! I deserved it. We both know I did, don't try to deny it."

Ralph shrugged. "Okay. So you did deserve it. Now why haven't you quit?"

Jack sighed and shook his head. "I wish I could, Ralph. Believe me, I really do. It would make it easier on both of us. But I need this job. More then you would think." He pulled something out of his pocket. It looked like a small black rectangle. A wallet.

Ralph didn't move an inch, watching as Jack opened the wallet, selecting a picture and holding it out to him.

"This is why." Jack murmured, looking up at him. "This is why I cant quit."

Ralph took the picture, and froze in utter amazement. The picture was of three people. One, of course, was Jack. The second was a woman with light blonde hair. She was smiling as she and Jack held a baby between them. Ralph stared for a moment, then handed the picture back. As he did, he noticed something for the first time. On Jack's left ring finger, there was a silver wedding band.

Jack smiled fondly, looking at the picture before he put it back in the wallet. "This is Becky, my wife. We've been married for almost three years. And our son, Simon."

Ralph, who had been watching Jack's left hand, looked up sharply. "Simon?"

Jack nodded gravely. "Yes. I named our son after Simon." He pushed the wallet back into his uniform shirt pocket. "I guess it's so I can remember what I did. What I should have done instead." He looked into Ralph's face, and Ralph saw something there he had never seen before. It was sorrow. "I'm not proud of what I did, Ralph. I'd give almost anything to go back and change it." Jack sighed again. "It's been haunting me for the past ten years, just like I'm sure it's haunted you. If it wasn't for Becky and Simon, I'd turn myself in to the police."

And Ralph believed him. For the first time in ten years, Ralph accepted Jack's word as truth. "Does she know?" He asked, curious in spite of himself. "Does your wife know what happened?"

Jack smiled bitterly. "Yes. She knows. At first she wouldn't believe it. She thought I was joking. Then she understood. She knows I regret it, so we don't talk about it."

Ralph just nodded. He couldn't help feeling that he had misjudged Jack. Murderer or not, Jack had been right; they had all been scared on the island. All of them.

There was a loud sound like a bell from inside the Factory. Break was over. Both men turned towards the door, but before they reentered the building, Jack spoke.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me, Ralph." He said softly. "Just to understand that I regret what I did more then you could possibly imagine. We have to work together now, whether we like it or not. We might as well pretend to get along."

Ralph just nodded. He couldn't think of what to say. But as they stepped through the door, Ralph knew the years of terrible dreams were leaving him. And with it, all the hatred and resentment towards Jack. He swore softly. Ralph hated Mondays.

A/N: So? What'd you think? Good? Bad? Feedback, people! I need to know what you thought. Reviews please!