In the End

Chapter Fourteen

Thank you: Gotta give a quick-late thank you to Crazyhorsegirl88 for answering all my questions on what different parts of the gun are called, because I'm clueless when it comes to explosions, weapons, ect.

Disclaimer: "Hallelujah" was either written by Jeff Buckley or Lenard Cohen. May have gotten the spelling wrong on that one. Anyway, different sites said different things. The version I used for this fic is sung by Anthony Michael Hall, and a recording of it can be found here: Fourteen: Daughters

Boone jolted out of his dream, shooting straight up. He fought to control his balance- and breath- and scooted back against the cave wall. After the day's murder, Jack had instructed for everyone to stay at the caves. Most had agreed to this, feeling the need to stay together, though others were afraid of going into the jungle with a killer on the lose.

Looking around, Boone brushed a hand through his hair and observed the unusually quiet atmosphere of the caves. The largest cave naturally had the largest population, which included Sayid and Shannon, who were sleeping soundless close by, and a little too close together for Boone's liking. Cave regulars were there as well: Alex and Danielle, Jack and Kate, to name a few. Boone took sympathy on Jack, remembering his recent breakup with Kate. It must've been hard for him to be forced to be so close to her. However, he couldn't help but to have noticed throughout the day that the tension between the two had loosened up a bit.

Taking a final look around the caves, Boone noticed one thing off: Locke was missing. Boone hadn't talked to him since returning from the hatch, but he had been meaning to ask Locke what had happened with him since the monster. Stretching, Boone quietly got to his feet, grabbing a jacket he had found in the process. As winter rolled in, the island's nights had been getting colder. Of course, this could also be due to the fact that he had previously spent most of his time in the hatch, and wasn't used to being exposed to such weather conditions- or any weather conditions at all. Sometimes in the hatch, all he would know was if it were sunny, cloudy, day, or night. And of course if it rained. Returning to the camp permanently after so long had it's downsides. Some didn't even remember who he was. Others, like Shannon, continuously pointed out how much paler than the rest of them.

4 months ago

"I think that guys looking at me," Boone said, deep in thought as he stared straight ahead of him, "Shannon, that guy's staring at me!"

Shannon rolled her eyes as she crossed out the word 'home' on her word search.

"Want me to go over there and tell him you already have a boyfriend?" Shannon said with a smirk.

Boone ignored her, and continued staring at the man who was, in turn, staring back at him or rather, up at him. The man was in a wheelchair, and he had to be in at least his upper forties.

"Does he look familiar to you?" Boone asked her.

Shannon rolled her eyes again.

"Let's go," she said, pulling Boone along as they crossed over the room, heading towards a small airport coffee shop. "One capechino."

She didn't even bother asking Boone if he wanted anything, as she turned to him for money.

"Okay, where's your credit card?" She demanded.

Boone looked at her, incredulous.

"It's a cup of coffee!" He exclaimed. You put coffee on a credit card?"

Shannon sighed.

"Fine, just give me what you have."

"I already went to the bank, Shannon," Boone said, "all I've got is some American fives."

In front of them, the waiter stood, looking annoyed as they fought.

"Well then what do you want me to do?" Shannon cried.

"Send it back!"

"I'm sorry Sir," the Australian waiter asked, "if you order it, you have to buy it.

The waiter smirked to himself as Shannon let out an exasperating sigh and collapsing on the counter.

"You know, if you hadn't got drunk-" Boone began.

"You know, if you weren't such an idiot," Shannon finished for him sarcastically.

Boone glared at her, not realizing a voice beside them was trying to get his attention. Turning, Boone saw the voice belonged to a foreign woman, maybe Chinese or Korean, whichever it was, she was obviously a native: it didn't seem like she could speak a word of English. Not wanting to embarrass the woman for not knowing what she wanted, Boone just smiled, nodding, and glanced around. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a man talking desperately on the phone, while who looked like his son sat not far by, playing a video game. If only he could be that young again. Maybe, Boone thought, if he were given that second chance that maybe he would be able to prevent the mistakes that ended up ruining his life.

"Boone, she's trying to give you something!" Shannon said, sounding both irritated and excited.

Only Shannon could pull off that, Boone added to his thoughts.

Looking down at his palm, Boone saw that the woman was indeed trying to give him something, and when he looked closer, Boone saw that it was money, money that was still in good use in Australia.

"Th..thank you," Boone said, dumbfounded.

The woman smiled at him, and walked back to her line.

"Um.." Boone said, turning back to the waiter, "here."

The waiter nodded, and almost looked disappointed in the fact that he would no longer be able to watch the two bicker. Beside him, Shannon took her drank and began walking back to their seats, without thanking the waiter nor Boone. Sighing, Boone walked after her, dreading the long trip home.

January 2005

The cool night breeze hit Boone as soon as he stepped out of the exit of the caves, and into the quiet jungle. It was almost too quiet. Boone wasn't really sure why he had bothered getting up, rather it was to look for Locke, or to try and wear off the shock of his dream. That insane dream- the conversation he was writing, the numbers, the code. Yet as insane as it sound, it all seemed so familiar somehow. Code, the code..where had he heard that before? Suddenly, Boone remembered:

"The code," the man said suddenly, "do you know the code?"

Boone blinked.

"Code?"

His reply came out slightly muffled, as his cheek was laying against the cold, concrete floor below. This was something else Boone found odd about the place: instead of being made of dirt like the caves, the floor to this place was an actual floor, made out of some kind of concrete or stone.

"The code!" The man exclaimed. "The code! Do you know the code?"

Boone searched his mind for a possible solution, and ended up feeling like an idiot. Of course. The code.

"The four, eight, fifteen thing?" Boone asked, thinking quickly to remember the number sequence.

"No!" The man hissed. "The code! The one that will..that will.."

That will what? He was never told. If Boone remembered correctly, it was because he wasn't on a 'need to know basis'. Would having a dream about the code count as that?

"You're out late," a voice commented.

Boone stopped, startled as he almost bumped into Locke.

"Yeah.." Boone said, thinking quickly, "couldn't sleep."

"It's probably not safe being out here alone," Locke advised wisely.

"Yeah, but I know more about this place than anyone, don't I?" Boone said, sounding proud, yet exhausted, as if he carried a hidden burden that was only just now crawling out.

"Good point," Locke smiled.

Locke began walking towards what Boone saw as the path to the caves. This would mean going back the way he came, but Boone was suddenly getting the feeling that he should tell someone about the dreams.

"We found this tunnel," Boone spoke up.

Locke stopped walking, and listened.

"Well, actually," Boone said with a simper, "I did, but Sayid and I went through it."

Boone was looking at the ground as he told the story, but he could still sense Locke's curiosity in the tale.

"And this guy, he came up to us.." Boone stopped, "actually, he knocked me down first, but anyway..he kept repeating stuff, over and over-" Boone waved his hands, expressing the repetition, "and he kept asking me, 'Are you him? Are you him?', and he kept mentioning some code, like he expected me to know it."

"The code on the side of the hatch?" Locke asked.

"No," Boone shook his head, "I didn't know what he was talking about then, but now..I had this dream, and in it, I was writing this conversation in this notebook. It was like the one we had down there, and I didn't know what I was talking about, until suddenly, I began writing these numbers, and it was like I knew them- I knew exactly what I was doing. And then..whoever it was that was talking to me..told me that that..that was the code."

Boone stopped, signaling the ending of his story, and continued to stare at the ground as Locke thought about what he was just told. A headache seemed to be testing his nerves, and Boone was sure that it was nearly as cold as he felt outside. Why didn't he get out more earlier?

"So what are you wanting to do?" Locke said finally.

Boone thought about it.

"Go back down there," Boone decided, "tell Callum what we know."

"Who?" Locke cut in.

"Never mind," Boone sighed.

Locke looked up to the sky, and Boone followed his gaze, curiously, almost expecting to see a page of answers up there. Instead, he found himself staring at only the night's sky.

"Let's wait until morning," Locke suggested, "after the service-" Locke smiled sadly, "I don't think a lot of people around here trust me."

Boone turned to him.

"You think they think you murdered him?" Boone asked, pushing aside his own early suspitions of Locke.

"Plus this guy..Callum," Locke went on, ignoring Boone's comment, "he might not be awake. We wouldn't want to catch him off guard."

He understood Locke's philosophy on needing to go to the funeral- whoever wasn't there would be the first to be blamed for the murder.

"Right," Boone said, nodding in agreement.

To their surprise, Jack was up when they arrived, and it looked like he was already getting a head start on his day.

"Nice night," Locke commented as Boone walked back over to his place against the cave wall, "or should I say morning?"

Jack chuckled.

"You two were out late," Jack said, closing a bottle of Tylenol.

"Headache?" Locke asked.

"Actually," Jack said, switching the hand the two pills were in, "it's for Boone."

Jack handed the medicine to Boone, who looked up at him, surprised.

"I don't need this," Boone protested quickly.

"Shannon said she thought you were sick," Jack explained.

"I'm not sick," Boone proclaimed.

"Just take the medicine," Shannon muttered from nearby.

Locke, Jack, and even Boone, chuckled, and Boone gave in, taking the medicine.

"We were just catching up," Locke said as Jack turned back around.

Boone couldn't help but to think that Locke made them sound like a young couple, and shivered at the thought.

"I meant to ask," Jack said, "where have you been?"

"I got lost," Locke explained simply.

Jack stared at him.

"You don't get lost," Jack said, amazed.

"Everybody gets lost," Locke said wisely.

From where he lay trying to go back to sleep, Boone looked up. Trying to forget the comment(which to both Jack and Boone sounded as though it were said directly to him), Jack shook himself out of his momentary befuddlement.

"Well, I hope you stick around," Jack said, "we're having the funeral tomorrow, for..you know."

"That soon?" Locke said disapprovingly.

"Why?" Jack said. "It's not like we can do any forensic test or anything.

Locke looked like he was about to protest, but instead brought it together, and nodded.

"You're right," Locke said, "and besides, where would he keep him?"

He laughed at his own joke, while Jack could only force a small smile, finding the comment disturbing, once it got right down to it.

"Night John," Jack said after silence settled between them, and walked back towards his cave, finally feeling like he could lay down and sleep.

(space)

In his dream, the night was dark. Bathed in sweat, Boone looked side to side desperately. Where was he? What had happened? He heard himself breathing loudly, and heard his heart struggle to beat in an appropriate rhythm. Screams. Screams everywhere. And blood. Blood too. Everywhere. All over him. The smell of it circulating through the smoky air, making him gag, cough, struggle for breath. His head pounded along with his heart, and Boone tried and failed at picking himself up from the hard, cold ground. A ground now covered in blood. In the distance, sirens wailed, coming nearer, and nearer. Coming for him.

Once again he tried getting to his feet, only to stop and stare at the blood. The blood that covered the ground. The blood that covered the ground because of him. At last he manage to wiggle out of the car, wincing as his skin came across the sharp glass, which reflected the blood. The blood that was everywhere. Everywhere because of him. Someone asked if he needed help, while another told him to sit down, to relax. He had just been in an accident. He was going to be okay. But Boone knew the truth. It wasn't an accident and and he wasn't going to be okay. It wasn't an accident, because it was his fault. And it was his fault the blood was everywhere. Another voice told him help was coming, but Boone didn't want it. Instead he turned, running. Running away from what used to be his life. A life that he once hated, but now begged for. A life he would never have again.

"Boone!"

Boone remained silent, almost deathly silent, as he was urgently shaken awake.

"Boone!" The voice said again, this time shaking him harder.

Groaning, Boone reluctantly opened his eyes, and swatted the hand shaking his shoulder away.

"We're going to be late!"

Speaking from her recent clingyness to Sayid, Boone was surprised to find it was Shannon who was waking him up.

"Late?" Boone said in confusion

As he looked around, Boone noticed the cave's atmosphere was darker than usual. Everyone seemed to be in a sullen mood, moving slowly and often bumping into something or someone. Apologies were muttered numerously throughout the caves as the castaways got themselves ready for the day, though noticed that a few were still sleeping. Because of the murder, there were still some who were unwilling to even step out of the caves, while others were itching to move back to the beach. Across from him, Jack and Kate were arguing over who was going to carry the body out, and if Jack should be involved. This was almost expected from the two, as they had spent nearly a half hour debating the issue of digging the grave. Apparently death was a touchy subject for the two.

"The funeral!" Shannon said, exasperated. "You know, for that guy with the leg? The blonde one."

"I know, I know," Boone muttered, getting to his feet to get ready.

In one of the private caves quickly stolen the previous night by Sawyer, Sawyer himself was just awakening, but under very different circumstances. There was a gun pointed at him. Sawyer scooted back quickly at the shock of the moment, but once his eyes started seeing things properly, Sawyer wasn't sure which was more shocking(and frightening): the gun pointed at him, or the person behind the gun- Rebecca.

"What the hell?" Sawyer said in disbelief at the situation.

Behind the gun, Rebecca was shaking uncontrollably. She was having a hard time holding the gun straight, for it was shaking along with her hand. Her face was pale, and her eyes were red from either staring at him like this for a long time, crying, or perhaps both. Sawyer had never seen Rebecca like this, and hardly ever saw someone looking this mad, except on occasion, Jack.

"I found something of yours."

For looking so shaken, Rebecca was doing a good job at keeping control of her voice, as if this was something that she had stayed up all night rehearsing. Sawyer felt something fall into his lap, interrupting his thoughts, but when he saw what the object was, his eyes widened in horror. It was his letter, the letter to the real Sawyer.

"Who are you?" Rebecca said, her voice only now beginning to shake.

Sawyer realized then the hurt and betrayal Rebecca must've been feeling right now. She didn't know the story.

"And this time, I want the truth," she added.

"Hey guys, Jack wanted me to tell you that-"

Hurley stopped at the entrance to the caves, seeing Sawyer at gunpoint.

"Is..everything okay?" Hurley said, sounding nervous.

"Fine," Rebecca said, exhaling a long-held breath as she blew a loose strand of hair out of her face. "I just need to talk to him."

Hurley raised an eyebrow.

"Okay..just, don't forget about the funeral."

"I won't," Rebecca promised, and Hurley left.

She never took her eyes off Sawyer as she turned back to him, waiting for Sawyer to tell his story.

"Fine," Sawyer grunted, "when I was eight my mom had an affair with a guy who turned out to be a con man-" he spoke quickly, wanting to get the confession over with, "he robbed us clean, and when my daddy found out, he killed my mom and then himself." He stared coldly into Rebecca's eyes, and could feel her now mixed emotions radiating back to him, "Satisfied?"

All that could be heard was the sound of Rebecca's slow, deep, breaths. At last Rebecca lowered the gun, putting the safety back on before putting it down beside her. For a moment Sawyer thought about stealing the gun and rounding on her, but decided against it. He didn't want to worsen things between them.

"I'm sorry," Rebecca said softly.

Now her eyes were full of guilt, and even worse, sympathy. Sawyer hated sympathy. Yet he didn't take his eyes off Rebecca's as she sank to the ground across from him.

"Yeah," Sawyer thought quickly for a comeback, but his mind failed him, "well, you wanted to know."

Rebecca looked down, obviously to avoid his gaze.

"We don't have to go to the funeral," Rebecca said quietly to the ground.

"Nah, we should," Sawyer said.

Though they both agreed on going, neither made a move towards leaving. Sawyer was too wrapped up in his thoughts to move. He wasn't sure how he felt, which was making the moment uncomfortable. Part of him was relieved Rebecca knew, while the other part hated that she knew. He guessed that for some wild reason, he had thought that not telling Rebecca would just allow the past melt and become nothing more than a forgotten memory buried somewhere in the corner of his mind.

"We shouldn't be late," Rebecca said, interrupting his thoughts.

"Yeah," Sawyer muttered in agreement.

As he got to his feet, a thought occurred to him.

"So where'd you get the gun?" He inquired.

Rebecca stopped. Knowing she wouldn't answer, Sawyer brushed by her, and whispered into her ear:

"Looks like I'm not the only one with secrets."

(space)

"Tell me you're not blaming this one on yourself," Kate said playfully from behind Jack as the funeral crowd departed.

Jack chuckled.

The funeral had been nice enough, silent though, since no one could seem to recall ever talking to the guy. They were lucky to even know a name, thanks to Claire and Kate's earlier curiosity. Charlie had said a quick speech, and they had buried him. Just like that. Why were horrible things like this becoming so much easier to deal with? Each death would hit him hard at first, but then Jack would remind himself that things like this happened, and life would go on. He didn't think of himself as cold-hearted, but more like experienced..with death. Each time they became easier to deal with, which Jack supposed was a good thing, but at the same time, he'd feel guilty for it. Death was hard, but as time went on, well, so did life.

"No," he said, shaking his head, "I was just wondering which one of us would do something like that..could do something like that. I mean, why-"

"I've killed before, Jack," Kate reminded.

Jack turned to her, and noticed that Kate was getting that same look in her eye as she always did whenever she or someone else mentioned her past. That same sad, haunted look.

"Just..look at it this way," Kate said, changing the subject, "who's the only person who wasn't at the funeral?"

Though he had looked around the beach a dozen times before, studying each and every castaway's presence and behavior, this time he saw the scene in a new light. Kate was right, there was indeed only one person who hadn't came to the burial, and Jack couldn't remember seeing them in the caves earlier. Beside him, Kate nodded.

"Don't be too hard on them," Kate advised, "we're not murderers."

Jack pondered Kate's comment as he hurried down the path to the caves. She was right, they weren't murderers, yet one of them was just killed. Shot by one of them. The others were gone, and there wasn't any evidence of there being another group on the island. Even if there was, why would they randomly choose their target like that? Where would they have gotten the weapon? Why were they so confident in not being caught? Would they even have known the land? The killer seemed to be either very gifted in the craft, very careful, or had some way of knowing the exact position to be at, the fact that no one would be there to catch them, as if they had foreseen it..

"Alex Rousseau!" Jack yelled as he burst into the main caves.

There was no answer as Jack stormed through the camp, searching every cave until he found who he was looking for. She was sitting alone in a cave Jack had never been in before, staring sadly at the ground as she sat on a rock, arms thrown lazily over her knees. Jack stopped when he saw the state she was in, and immediately felt guilty for barging in like this.

"So have you come to accuse me of murder?" Alex asked, acknowledging Jack's presense. "Maybe tie me up, let Sayid question me? I heard what you guys did to Sawyer."

"I didn't come to accuse you of anything," Jack lied.

"Whatever," Alex muttered.

There were very few times when Alex actually acted as young as she was, but when she made comments like this, it would show. Jack was just thinking of what to say when Alex covered for him.

"He killed him..Adam," she began quietly, "and he wanted me to watch..watch him kill him-" Alex sniffled, trying to stop herself from crying, "but this other guy, he wouldn't let him, so they blindfolded me, and then they..killed them."

'Them?' Jack thought to himself, but decided not to interfere with her story.

"And when I came back, and I saw him walking with everyone else, getting to live free," Alex shook her head, "I knew I couldn't let that happen."

Alex's head was down, and she was speaking almost directly to the floor. Jack felt bad for her, and didn't like always being in the position to make someone feel like they had to confess whatever secrets they held. Cautiously, Jack took a step forward, thinking of what to say, when Alex covered for him, continuing her story. As she did, Alex stood up, and began walking towards the wall, where she stopped, her back to Jack.

"I went out with Sawyer yesterday, to help him look for his friend-"

"Rebecca?" Jack asked without realizing he was interrupting.

Alex nodded.

"It started to rain," she went on, "we got separated and..and I saw him."

Jack's eyebrows furrowed, wondering who she was talking about. As she continued, Jack concluded that she was talking about the one man Alex dreaded ever mentioning in conversation, yet the one man that would haunt her memories forever: Kyle.

"He started walking towards me," Alex continued, voice barely above a whisper.

Alex then stopped talking, and Jack felt a sick feeling develop inside of him. He just felt so mad, angered, furious with the world right now and what it was doing to her, the same feeling that he had towards Kate when he learned of her past.

"Did he hurt you?" Jack finally forced himself to ask.

Alex didn't answer right away, which scared Jack, but at last she spoke up.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head, "but I think..I think he wanted to."

She paused, maybe expecting Jack to say something, but he didn't thing 'I'm glad' would help the moment any.

"He talked to me," Alex continued quietly, "he said..he said he had been looking for me, that he knew I wouldn't leave him."

Alex didn't offer any more after that. Distantly, Jack could hear people coming back to the caves, and feared that if they weren't careful, someone would come in and find out what happened. After learning her reasons, Jack felt the need to keep the killer's identity secret. Suddenly Alex let out a sob.

"I just wanted it to be over," she said through tears that were pouring out too fast for Alex to stop, "I needed it to be over. I just want to get better."

Jack's heart fell at Alex's confession. Once again Jack took a sympathetic step forward, this time knowing what he was going to say. He had heard doctors and clinical psychiatrist repeat the same speech all his life, and had made a point to memorize it himself, though he had hoped he'd never have to use it. Comforting wasn't his greatest expertise, but he could improv something if needed. This time, however, and with many times before with Kate, Jack felt that more than the typical 'not your fault' speech was deserved.

"Nothing's wrong with you, Alex," Jack began, "everything that's happened to you-" he tried to pick his words carefully, "it's not fair. And now your stuck on an island, where you're forced to trust the only people there to help you, and that's gotta be hard."

He was relieved when he noticed Alex had stopped sobbing. She wiped her eyes, and then turned towards Jack.

"Thanks," she said quietly, "I needed that."

Jack offered her a smile, which Alex tried and failed to return. Suddenly she hugged him, catching Jack by surprise. Jack had no choice but to accept the hug, and gave Alex a reassuring pat on the back. As Alex began to cry softly into his shoulder, Jack realized that they were on the verge of crossing that line between friends and, well..they were practically father and daughter, and if that scared him, it'd sure scare the hell out of Alex, and he didn't even want to start thinking of Danielle. Still they had that bond, and Jack couldn't help but to feel the need to protect Alex like a daughter, though he knew it wasn't his job; and this point really hit him hard when he looked up and noticed that Danielle had accidentally stepped into the scene, and was standing frozen by the door, a look of both fury and jealousy on her face. It was then that Alex let go, and Danielle was quick to step out of the picture.

"Thanks again," she said, and looked down, blushing a little, "sorry about that."

"Don't be," Jack said quickly.

Alex abruptly looked up from the ground, eyes darting towards the cave entrance. She frowned, and Jack knew she had somehow seen Danielle standing there.

"No offense," Alex said, still staring at the door frame, "but..can you go?"

Jack raised an eyebrow, though decided not to question her request. After all, she was the psychic, and if she thought something should happen, then it must need to happen.

"Sure," Jack said with a nod, "are you going to be okay?"

"Fine," Alex said quickly.

She seemed to be in a hurry to get Jack out.

"I won't tell anyone," Jack promised, "about the murder."

"Thanks," Alex said, and then let out a snort, "I feel like I'm in some Agatha Christie book. Next thing you know we'll find some old poem and little Indian dolls."

"Just yell if you need anything," Jack said with a chuckle as he left.

Most of the castaways were back at the caves when Jack entered, and he noticed Danielle's cold gaze following him everywhere he went. The gaze was almost eerie with hatred, and Jack shivered as he disappeared into the crowds, following the distant outline of Kate until he reached her on the other side of the caves.

(space)

Danielle turned her glare off Jack as she turned back to the caves. It wasn't that she wasn't glad there was someone willing to be their for her daughter, it was just that she wished she could be that person. Yesterday she was sure she had fixed their relationship, but now the change was like day and night. Something had happened that turned Alex back into this hollow form of depression, and Danielle intended to find out just what had happened.

"Hi," she greeted as she stepped into the cave Alex was in.

"Hi," Alex echoed.

She noticed that between the short time that Jack had left and the time that she had arrived at the cave, Alex had managed to find a notebook and found something to write in it.

"I just saw Jack," Danielle said, careful not to make it too obvious that she was trying to read what Alex was writing, "were you talking to him?"

"So what if I was," Alex said hotly, and erased something she had just written, "since when is it a sin to talk to Jack?"

"It's not," Danielle said quickly, "I was just thinking that we could talk, like you and Jack do."

Alex rolled her eyes.

"Would you mind?" She asked. "I'm trying to write something."

Danielle knew that she should respect her daughter's privacy, but at the same time was outraged at the way she was acting. Why couldn't she just tell her what was going on?

"Where were you today?" She asked. "You weren't at the funeral."

"I felt sick."

The quick reply told Danielle that Alex was lying through her teeth.

"You looked fine this morning," Danielle challenged.

"I was sick!" Alex exclaimed, shooting Danielle an incredulous look. "God, would you just leave me alone?"

Danielle crossed her arms, hurt.

"Why would you rather talk to Jack than me?" Danielle inquired.

Alex slammed her pencil down against the notebook.

"I don't know," she said, exasperated with a hint of sarcasm, "maybe it's because for one, Jack's willing to talk. Maybe it's because he doesn't judge me, or anyone else for that matter. Or maybe it's because when I mention something like Jerry Seinfield or Law and Order, he'll know what I'm talking about. He can understand me."

Alex meet Danielle's eyes with a glare, as if saying 'beat that'. Of course, Danielle had no clue who or what Alex was talking about, but Danielle still felt the need to argue her point. But as she tried to think of what to say, Danielle began to understand. Talking to Danielle would be like talking to someone who just popped in from the Dark Ages. The last show Danielle remembered watching on tv was Cheers, though she couldn't name an American actor to save her life. To Alex, talking to her must be, well, boring. Danielle understood this, but it didn't make up for the jealousy or anger. After all, none of this was her fault.

"Do you think I want to be here?" Danielle said, speaking her mind. "Do you think I asked to be crashed here?"

Alex looked down in what could've been guilt.

"When we crashed I was so afraid that something would happen to you," Danielle said, voice becoming a little unsteady, "and then they came, and took you."

Alex's face remained down, but Danielle knew she was listening, and was glad.

"And I looked for you," Danielle continued, "I looked for you for years. And when I couldn't find you, it felt like a part of me was missing- a part of me was lost. When I learned that you were here-" Danielle shook her head, "it sounds selfish, but I was so relieved. But when you don't talk to me, when you shut me out..that part of me feels empty again. It sounds-" Danielle searched for the word, "crazy, but I've been here for sixteen years. I just want my life back."

When Alex didn't say anything after a few moments, Danielle turned to leave. Maybe Alex just didn't want to have anything to do with her. Danielle could hardly blame her, after disowning Alex like she choose to do so long ago, if in her shoes, Danielle probably wouldn't of wanted anything to do with her either.

"Wait, Mom," Alex said, calling after her.

Danielle turned, surprised at being addressed as such.

"I'm sorry," Alex said sincerely, "you don't have to go."

Taking up the offer, Danielle took a seat beside Alex, and found herself not hardly surprised when neither had a thing to say. Remembering her earlier curiosity as to what Alex was writing, Danielle looked down, reading as Alex wrote, which turned out to be a song. She expected to get yelled at, but no accusation came.

"That's good," Danielle commented, "the song."

"Thanks," Alex said, shrugging simply, "I used to write a lot with Adam, back in New York."

Danielle nodded in understanding.

"And you lived with my brother?" She said, recalling earlier conversations.

"Yeah," Alex replied.

"How's he doing?" Danielle asked.

"Good," Alex said thoughtfully, and put her pencil down, "he's a grave digger."

Danielle let out a laugh.

"He was always jealous of me," she said proudly, "though he would never admit it. I was always the smart one, but he claimed that should be the son's expertise."

"Sounds familiar," Alex snorted.

They sat in silence for a few moments as Alex tried to think of something else to write in her song. Danielle glanced over towards her notebook again, this time really reading into it, absorbing the lyrics and meanings. The song seemed dark, though it wasn't unexpected, and Danielle noticed that some of the verses seemed to relate directly to the island itself. Towards the end, the song grew even darker, if possible, like an Edgar Allen Poe poem, and soon came apart about murder. Murder and keeping secrets, Danielle saw. And then she understood. It all seemed to piece together now.

"Did you kill him?" Danielle asked, looking up at Alex. "The one they just buried. Did you kill him?"

(cue music, "Hallelujah" by Jeff Buckley, as song by Anthony Michael Hall)

Alex met her eyes, looking completely afraid. She began shaking, and Danielle was sure that at any moment a confession would burst out of her.

Well I heard there was a secret chord

that David played and it pleased the Lord

But you don't really care for music, do you?

Instead, Alex stood up, grabbing her bag and the notebook, and fled from the cave. It was only shortly after that Danielle realized that was the confirmation she had been looking for; the answer to her question.

Well it goes like this:

The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift

The baffled king composes Hallelujah

Now on the beach, Jack and Kate were talking, or at least Jack was. He was telling some story to Kate, who laughed along with him as he waved his hands wildly to express the humor. Though she never told him straight out, she really admired Jack, especially since he seemed so unafraid. Kate couldn't see how he could be so fearless with all that was going on, with the island, her, and it was comforting. She knew that along as Jack could laugh it off, so could she.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Sun needed to get away. Staying at the beach wasn't helping her, so she had taken the path to the caves, carrying her single bag of luggage with her. Now that she was there, however, and was forced to watch the hustle, bustle, and laughter of the everyday life here, Sun wasn't sure she could go through with it. But there was still some unseen force that kept her there, and though she didn't know where that courage was coming from, she could've sworn she saw Jin standing on the other side of the caves, smiling at her through the crowd.

Well your faith was strong but you needed proof

You saw her bathing on the roof

Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you

Sayid and Shannon laughed as they walked down the beach, hand in hand, just like any young tv couple in love, and they were indeed, in love. Every now and then images of Nadia would come back into mind, and even dreams of the long ago days of war, and a small pit of doubt would form inside Sayid. But then every time he saw Shannon, and was able to make her smile, make her laugh, that doubt changed.

She tied you to her kitchen chair

She broke your throne and she cut your hair

And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

And as for Boone, he wasn't sure what he wanted. From the other side of the beach he watched Shannon and Sayid, as if he were stalking them. Maybe he was. No matter how many times he told both Shannon and himself that he was over there, the 'what if' game came back to mind, but then so would the past. Could a few smiles and hear-to-hearts make up for years of lies? And was he really going to sit by and let everything that happened between them be for nothing? Because there were a few times when the two could really connect, bringing out the better part of their relationship than the usual disdain. But Shannon really did seem happy with Sayid, and deep down, he knew nothing could change that, and he knew that eventually he'd have to move on.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Back in the caves, Danielle found herself alone. She was wondering how it was that Alex would run from the truth whenever she was questioning her, but if it were Jack, and maybe sometimes even Sayid, Alex would be willing to confess. Did her daughter really trust her that less?

Well Baby I've been here before

I've seen this room, and I've walked this floor,

You know I used to live alone before I knew you

Needing a breath of air, Danielle stepped out, running right into Locke, who was immediately able to detect that something was wrong. Danielle normally couldn't stand people with that ability, as it could grow annoying when someone would constantly offer sympathy, though this time it seemed different. She wasn't blind to the similarities between Locke and herself, and wasn't even in denial over it, she just had this tendency of being afraid of the future, since the future hadn't been something she needed to worry about for years. But if Locke were to pull her aside, or ask if something was wrong, she knew she'd talk to him, and Danielle found herself hoping Locke would say something now.

And I've seen your flag on the marble arch

But love is not a victory march

It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Claire sat in the sand, watching the waves as they came in. Suddenly, cold hands came down on her shoulders, and Claire shivered, but relaxed when she saw it was only Charlie. When Christopher had been hanging around with him, Claire had admittedly been jealous that Charlie wasn't with her, but now she couldn't exactly act as if though she were pleased the guy was dead. Claire had never wanted him dead in the first place. But what had happened happened, and now it was back to the two of them. She looked over at Charlie, who's usual smile was faded, and Claire realized how selfish she was being. Feeling the need to take Charlie's usual role as the shoulder to cry on, Claire offered him a small smile. Charlie forced one back, and leaned forward, kissing her.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hurley walked passed Rebecca and Sawyer as they left the caves, the bags they had brought with them. He offered them a smile, which Rebecca had returned, but Sawyer hadn't even noticed.

Maybe there is a God above

But all I've ever learned from love

Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you

Sawyer had tried his best to keep his past hidden from Rebecca, but he should've known that in this place that would've been impossible, and now the two had to deal with it. He didn't want a relationship built off of pity, though he didn't want one. Rebecca was different from many of the women he had ever dated, one reason being that through all the trouble he had gotten himself in, she still stayed with him. Even after learning of his criminal past, she was still there. But Sawyer didn't want that to interfere with their relationship, like it would often to with him and Kate. He didn't want the looks of pity, or hearts-to-hearts. So when he passed the thickest patch of jungle they had walked by, Sawyer had made up his mind. Stopping, he reached into his back pocket, withdrawing his letter. He felt Rebecca's eyes watch him as he looked at it one last time before balling it up- envelope and all- into his fist and thrusting it deep into the jungle, where it could never be found. Sawyer stood there, letting the moment of regret sink in, but only for a moment, and then continued on before the normal sympathetic hand reached out for his shoulder.

And it's not a cry that you hear at night

It's not somebody who's seen the light

It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hours after her escape, Alex ran back into the caves, in search for her mother. She realized how silly it was to keep this from her, it wasn't as if she'd tell anyone. The guilt would just eat her up until she finally exploded, and Alex wanted to make sure she never reached that point.

Alex burst into the cave she was in before, only to find it empty. Her mother had left. No note, not that she had expected one, and no message from another castaway telling where she was. In her mind, Alex was unable to see where to find her. Instead, a whirlwind of mixed emotions came over her: fear, loneliness, hopefulness, happiness. Irony was laying heavily on the moment. Determined her mother would come back for her, Alex entered the caves, sinking to the ground shortly after. When would this all make sense? What was she supposed to do? Who was she supposed to go to? Most importantly, when would this end? When would she be able to have her life back? Tears began to form in her eyes as she realized that she wouldn't. Her old life was dead, buried in songbooks hidden in the attic. She had a new life now, and she just hoped it was worth fighting for.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Author's Note: Okay, at this point, I need yall's opinions:

1. Am I writing too many song endings? Do you like the song endings? Do they seem to fit in with the chapter(the song) or do they just seemed pulled out of nowhere?

2. What do you guys think about Alex? Do you like her? Do you think I'm writing too much or too less of her? Do you think she's taking over "screen time" of others?

Just so you guys know, I am planning on focusing on more of the characters. I have a plot to do with Charlie and Claire, and I'm trying to think of something to do with Sun. And there is Jate to look forward to, though times are about to turn dark..er..darker. Thanks so much for the reviews! You guys rock!

Coming up next, on "In the End":

I'm not sure exactly what's happening next, but someone's getting haunted. Maybe the past isn't so easy to let go of after all.

Thanks again!

Until next time..

October Sky