Title: In Admiration - Part 35

Fandom: Lost

Characters: Jack Shephard, Boone Carlyle

Prompt: #49 Fall

Author's Notes: Written for the LiveJournal community slash100 (underscore between "slash" and "100" – for some reason FFN deletes it)

…………

He was sure Shannon at some point had told Boone that he had a tendency to act without thinking sometimes. Boone thought he had a more valid excuse this time than others, though. Locke had woken him at the beach early this morning, leading Boone through the jungle while talking to himself excitedly about something Boone wasn't really sure of. It took his mind a while to get passed that it was a good thing he was sleeping on the beach that night, wondering if Locke would have gotten him if Boone had spent the night in the caves with Jack. Boone eventually figured out what John was talking about - a dream about a plane, how the island had given him a sign, and it was what they needed to find in order to get into the hatch.

It was crazy, all of it, Boone thought. There was no way that the plane existed. Locke had to have been using that goopy paste stuff on himself, hallucinating what he wanted to see - hope. Boone didn't say anything, though, figuring that if John just kept walking around through the jungle, eventually he would figure out that he was losing it, and they would go to the hatch, or maybe even back to the others. He started to get worried when John started having problems walking, and Boone thought it was because of the piece of the trebuchet that had imbedded itself in Locke's leg the other day.

Locke didn't seem to notice the problems with his leg, focusing on something else instead. It was rosary beads and a cross, hanging from a tree near where Boone was standing. John pulled on some vines, sending a decomposed body falling to the jungle floor. He was a priest, or at least a man dressed as a priest, and according to John, he was from Nigeria.

They continued on, Boone not having the slightest idea if Locke was going in a specific direction or just walking, but he did notice that Locke was having an increasingly difficult time walking. Boone had voiced his concern, but John kept insisting that he was fine, despite Boone's observation that only one of his legs had been hurt by the shrapnel, and he was having problems with both of them. Boone tried suggesting that they go back, that Locke should go see Jack, but that made him more aggravated, trying to stand again but just collapsing entirely. He told Boone something he'd never expected to hear - that John had been in a wheelchair for four years, and the island had fixed him, which was why he believed in it so strongly. Locke pleaded with his words and with his eyes for Boone's help, which he now understood that he should've ignored, but that was why he came out with John everyday - to be helpful.

John started out leaning on Boone, but as they kept walking, it felt to Boone more like he was carrying the other man, supporting most of his weight. Boone was still kind of reeling from Locke saying he had been paralyzed, so when they stopped for a break, Boone thought he should return a story in kind to the other man. He told him about Theresa, how she had broken her neck because he had been a depressed and lonely kid before Adam and Shannon came along that just wanted attention from his mother. He never told anyone that it was his fault, but Boone had carried the guilt with him ever since.

But instead of being sympathetic, John started laughing, acting like Boone had just told him the funniest joke in the world. Boone got pissed off by the reaction, demanding to know what was so funny, and Locke just pointed. Following his finger up the edge of a cliff and into the trees growing above it, there was a small, yellow airplane, nestled amongst the branches. It was the same one that John had seen crash in his dream.

The climb up had been long and strenuous, but Boone had a new motivation. John saw hope in the aircraft in that it would enable them to open the hatch, but Boone saw hope that would get them off the island. The plane would have a radio, and even if that didn't work anymore, the plane should have a battery like cars do, and maybe Sayid could make it work again. Inside the plane had been a bunch of maps of Nigeria, another dead man dressed as a priest, and at least a dozen crates of heroin. Heroin. Locke had woken him up to drag him through the jungle for a plane filled with drugs. There was nothing in there they could use to open the hatch.

Boone spotted the radio, though, climbing to the front of the plane, never thinking he'd be so happy to hear static when he flicked it on. The radio was at least getting power, and it wasn't feedback like they had gotten with the transceiver back when they'd first crashed on the island. The plane creaked, throwing him so his ribs hit the pilot's seat, momentarily knocking the wind out of Boone, and despite hearing Locke yelling up at him to get out, he wasn't going to be deterred. He reached for the headset, calling out for help over and over again, and then there was a voice, coming in through the static, telling him to repeat the transmission. Boone was overjoyed, telling the man on the other end that they were the survivors of the crash of Oceanic Flight 815. His joy quickly became confusion when the voice told him that they, saying we, were the survivors of Oceanic Flight 815.

Then the world around him started to move, and Boone was suddenly aware that he was falling, fast, with a tremendous physical pain overriding every nerve in his body. He thought of Shannon, and then of Jack, before everything went dark.