For those who asked – nope, not the end yet! But it is the last update for a few days as am going away – should be able to update again late next week sometime.

Day 17

A new hierarchy begins to emerge in Jack's absence.

To her, it feels akin to an opposing government fighting to take power: there is struggle for each participant to have his voice heard, and each voice wants only to shout out louder the differences from their rivals.

There is a natural leader: Sayid. But he is one of the few to demonstrate reverence towards his predecessor. His leadership style is similar to Jack's: thoughtful, intelligent, but somewhat reticent.

But others vie for power and recognition, and the camp's precarious harmony starts to crack, and she fears that without attention it will shatter like shards of glass; numerous and varying in size and with the potential to cause irreparable damage.

Fear bubbles to the surface and it causes people to behave irrationally, impulsively.

Life on the island is once again without escapism of any type, and there is an undercurrent of tension prevalent.

Amidst all this, she feels herself withdrawing yet further from their uncertain society. She stares out to sea for hours on end, in an uncharacteristic trance-like state.

Others join her occasionally, particularly when they seek isolation from their daily life.

Her leg heals quicker than she could have imagined and she is able to put pressure on it without extensive pain. She tries to practice walking without assistance from the crutches as much as possible, and it is this which gives her a sense of purpose.

Soon she will be able to go back into the jungle.

Soon she will be able to go and find Jack and bring him back, and restore harmony to the camp.

But with each moment that these thoughts pass through her mind, she has equal moments where she recalls that she does not know where he is.

She does not know if he is alive.

And even if she knew that he was alive and his location, she does not know how she could rescue him from the others.

In her waking dreams she sometimes rescues him, but things are not the same. In her waking dreams she sometimes is recaptured and killed. In her waking dreams she sees his lifeless body, beaten and left in the middle of a clearing. And she dwells on this image, torturing herself in the knowledge that his demise has come about directly because of her.

She walks slowly but with increasing confidence across the sand, concentrating almost more than she could imagine necessary in order to move. She uses the pain to help her focus and prevent her mind conjuring up even more graphic scenarios.

She is successful. But eventually the pain and effort exhausts her, and she returns to sitting on the beach, watching the water advance and recede.

"Do you think things will ever be the same?" Claire asks her. "I mean, the way they were when Jack was around?"

"He'll be back," she tells Claire defiantly. But she is less confident than she appears.

Because she finds that the more she thinks of him, and his returning to them, the further he seems to be out of reach.

And she finds herself struggling against tears.

---

Seconds slowly turn into minutes, which eventually give way to hours. She has no accurate way of keeping time, and her mind is unable to remain focused on keeping track.

She is calmer than before; the passing minutes bring no news of Sawyer's whereabouts, and it is both futile and emotionally demanding to maintain her levels of anger and panic. She is increasingly worried, fearing not only what they are doing to him, but their intentions and what will happen to her and Jack.

She begins to allow thoughts through that there is no way out; that they are going to die: one by one, painfully and torturously slowly.

And she knows that entertaining such thoughts for even a moment is disastrous: she needs to have hope and believe that they will escape. Because once she begins to conclude that they will die, then it will be inevitable.

She is sat against the wall, and she pushes her back further up against it, trying to feel a sensation other than the pressure in her head and the aching of her foot.

She looks over at Jack: he sits in a similar position against the wall opposite, but his head is lowered, resting in his hands. She knows that he is taking the weight of this all on himself.

"It's not your fault," she tells him.

He looks up at her, disbelieving, but doesn't reply.

"It's not your fault," she repeats.

He smiles ever so slightly, insincerely, unconvinced.

"I need to make it right," she thinks she hears him say, but the words are low and indistinct.

"Sawyer's gonna be fine and we're gonna make it out of here, remember?" she comments confidently, consciously echoing his earlier words to her, irrelevant of whether she believes them. And this time he smiles wider, still a shadow of his usual smile, but amused regardless.

She hears a scraping of metal against metal, a sound that she has come to associate with the lock on the door. She quickly looks over at the door as it opens, light streaming through, near blinding her. It closes shortly afterwards, leaving them in their concrete jail, an extra body having joined them.

"Sawyer!" she exclaims, trying not to be overly emotional. It is irrelevant that they are not as close as they once were; she is overjoyed to see him and makes her way over to him to ensure that he is actually there and alive.

He moves slowly, unsurely, so un-Sawyer-like. She looks over at Jack, concerned, and notes that he looks equally as anxious.

"Sawyer?" she queries hesitantly.

"Freckles?" he replies, his voice slurring.

Jack takes on his doctor persona, examining his unwilling patient.

"Do you know where they took you?" he asks.

"What?" Sawyer questions warily.

"What do you last remember?"

"Y'know, doc, I appreciate the concern, but I only went to the bathroom."

"You've been gone nearly six hours," Jack informs him.

There is a look of disbelief.

"It looks like they sedated you."

Silence pervades the room, easing itself uncomfortably into every corner and crevice.

She is left with only one unspoken question: what the hell do the others want with them?

---

End part 4