Chapter 25: No Other Pearl

They returned to the church later that evening. The group had gathered again in the first couple of pews. Kate still hadn't joined them, but Ben heard Sun assuring Jack that she was starting to come around.

Val's mood had improved immensely. She'd picked a seat next to Desmond, who had brought Penny and Charlie along. Hugo sat next to Charlie, and was telling him wildly embellished stories about the Island.

"That whole conversation was like non-stop déjà-vu," Desmond whispered to Valerie. "Her explanation seemed word for word pulled from a memory I didn't know I had." He shook his head in awe. "What did she want to talk to you guys about?"

"Time crime," Valerie whispered, trying to keep a straight face. Desmond snickered in spite of himself, and Ben stifled an involuntary grin.

Eloise nodded to Jack. Jack was now clean shaven, and the purpose seemed to have returned to his eyes. He stood up and took the podium.

"I don't think anyone else is going to come tonight," he said, addressing the room. "John was a good man—a leader. He cared about the people we left behind, and he cared about all of us. He deserved better than this. I spoke to him briefly before he passed away—he seemed to know he would die here, but he was certain that we all needed to go back. I doubted him—so many times. But he was right—about the Island—about fate. He's right about this. I hope, wherever he is, that he's found some peace."

He stepped away, and Eloise took his place. "I'm glad you are all here, and I trust that you will be able to collect the rest of the people you need. I wanted to offer a brief thought before you all begin your journey."

She looked meaningfully at Ben. "There are many immovable things in this world—fates that cannot be changed. John Locke knew he would die when he left the Island—and die he did." She took a deep breath before continuing. "I have never been a sentimental person, but, in my life, I have seen only one force capable of thwarting the inevitable—love."

She glanced briefly at the back of the room, and Ben turned to see what she was looking at. Kate stood in the doorway, listening from a distance.

"I have seen love strong enough to transcend time and space," she said, shifting her gaze to Desmond and Penny. "I have seen love deep enough to risk losing everything." She nodded solemnly at Sun, then turned to Jack. "I have witnessed love heal even the harshest wounds, and I have seen proof that love can change the very fabric of the universe." She rested her eyes on Ben. "It is the greatest leap of faith there is," she told them. "Wherever your flight may take you, I ask that you remember that."

Ben noticed Penny squeezing Desmond's hand. He glanced at Valerie, who winked slyly at him.

"Best of luck," Eloise told them as she stepped away from the casket. "I'll see you in the next life."

They had two days to pack and prepare for their trip. Valerie packed her ratty old backpack full of everything useful that could be carried onto the plane—food, camping supplies, and first aid kit.

"I'm sure the Barracks is still there," Ben assured her.

"Honestly, who the fuck knows," she replied distractedly, and continued packing.

Ben and Jack prepared the paperwork to transport John's body on the plane. Jack put a pair of his father's tennis shoes in the coffin, offering Ben no explanation. Ben suspected he'd spoken to Eloise before the funeral—it seemed like the sort of thing she'd think was important.

As the hours ticked past, Ben became increasingly anxious about Alex. He'd been harboring a fear—ever since he'd realized that there was some degree of course correction occurring—that Alex would have died in spite of their efforts, and that he wouldn't have been there to stop it.

He didn't mention this to Valerie, but he didn't have to. She knew that it was a possibility—he could see it in the way she looked at him whenever they talked about the people who had died. There wasn't anything either of them could do about from here. His only focus was getting back—they'd worry about the rest later.

They arrived at the airport a couple of hours early and intercepted Sayid as he stepped off his flight from London.

"I should have known you two would be involved," Sayid remarked sardonically. "What are you doing here?"

Valerie wordlessly handed him his ticket.

"Why on earth would I go to Guam?"

"Walk with us to the gate, Sayid," Ben cajoled. "Humor me."

Sayid was too tired to argue, and he let Ben lead the way to the boarding area for Ajira 316.

Sayid noticed his friends waiting for the same flight. They immediately jumped up to greet him.

"We're going back, aren't we?" Sayid asked Jack dejectedly.

"We are."

Sayid sighed, already resigned to the situation.

"You're welcome, by the way," Ben told him.

"For the reunion?"

"For getting you out of jail. Why a smart man like you would pick up a murder weapon at a crime scene is beyond me, really, Sayid, but we know you didn't kill Widmore."

"I would have killed him," Sayid replied in hushed tones. "I would have done it myself if he hadn't already been dead. I wanted revenge for what he did to Nadia—he was a cruel man."

Ben nodded in agreement.

"So you did it, then?" Sayid pressed.

"She did," he replied, gesturing at Valerie.

Sayid raised his eyebrows and frowned slightly, obviously surprised to learn that Val had it in her.

"She also compiled the evidence exonerating you to send to your lawyers," Ben explained. "Turns out she is actually quite good."

The mention of lawyers caught Kate's attention. She was struck by a sudden realization. "Was it you?" She demanded, getting up from her seat. "Did you take Aaron?"

Valerie nodded calmly. "I'm sorry, Kate. I really am. You had to be on this flight. You have to go back. We had to make sure he was safe with his grandmother, but we couldn't tell you why. This doesn't need to be a one-way trip. Bring Claire home with you. You can take care of them both—she'll need you."

Kate shook her head in disbelief and sat back down. "You're a horrible person," she muttered.

Ben opened his mouth to argue, but Valerie touched his arm and shook her head. "It's alright," she told him. "She has every right to be mad."

Jack stared at Valerie, suddenly putting things together in his mind. He'd been too distracted by his newfound purpose to think too much about the inconsistencies in the stories he'd been given, and he was realizing that he was missing pieces of the puzzle.

"Are you going to tell us who Valerie really is, Ben?" Jack asked finally, loud enough for the rest of them to hear. "Eloise didn't seem pleased that she'd joined us."

Desmond stood up and placed himself between Jack and Valerie, sensing Jack's agitation.

"First, she was sent to help with his tumor," Jack said, turning to Desmond. "Then she was sent to protect his daughter—who sent her?"

Desmond shot Ben a look.

"Was it Jacob?" Jack continued, turning back to Ben. "Or was Jacob just a fiction that Locke fooled himself into believing?"

Ben glanced at Valerie.

She shrugged. "Just tell them. Sun already knows—I think the cat is out of the bag."

"She's my future wife, Jack," Ben answered cryptically.

"So—what, you're engaged?" Jack replied, incredulous.

"Oh, congrats dude!" Hurley added earnestly.

"No, Jack, she's my future wife."

Jack frowned. "You're not saying she's a time traveler, are you?"

"Would that really shock you at this point?"

Jack shook his head. "You're serious?"

Valerie nodded. "I came back for Alex—helping with the tumor was a pretense."

"Wait, wait," Hurley interrupted, "how does that work? So—Val, do you know what's going to happen to all of us? Is it like a Back to the Future situation or a Twelve Monkeys situation?"

The stewardess announced the first boarding call before she could answer.

"We can talk more on the Island, Hurley," she said, pulling out her boarding pass. "We'll have plenty of time."

On the plane, Valerie wrapped herself in a blanket and lifted the armrest that separated herself from Ben. She held onto his arm, leaned against his shoulder, and closed her eyes.

Ben watched, amused, as Jack realized that Frank Lapidus was piloting the plane, and Frank realized that their destination was not going to be Guam. Jack took his seat in front of Hugo, across the aisle from Ben.

Ben nodded at Jack and glanced at Hugo, who was nervously trying to read a comic book. Hugo flashed him a quick grin.

"How can she sleep?" Hugo asked.

Ben shook his head. "I have no idea, Hugo. But it certainly beats worrying."

He smiled a little to himself and cracked open the copy of Les Misérables that he'd picked up in Heathrow when they were leaving London. He had a small collection of books to work through. He'd been reading a lot lately—all those days of travelling—those days of waiting for Valerie to return—it had left him with too many hours to be alone with his own thoughts.

He'd waited a while before turning to this novel. He'd always found the end of the book a bit reductive, it being centered around romantic love—and young love at that.

He'd never understood why such a grim and introspective story would end on such a simple note.

But he was not the man he used to be. Love, he'd learned, casts every previous infatuation in a dull and colorless light. He glanced down at Val—already asleep but still clinging to his arm. The joy she could bring him with that single, thoughtless gesture surpassed any previous moments of happiness he'd experienced by orders of magnitude.

Now, he understood it perfectly.

On Ben's fifty-first birthday, Val had convinced him to take the Rabbit out with her for an afternoon. They'd dropped anchor in a quiet little bay that was too overrun with bramble to have a beach and eaten the snacks that Valerie had packed.

"Let's go swimming," she told him, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Valerie, the water is freezing."

She flashed him a devious smirk and started peeling off her pants. She'd taken it as challenge.

She pulled off her knit sweater, tossed it at him, and marched to the bow of the boat. She stood there in nothing but her black underwear and looked back at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm not letting you pull me in this year," he called out at her, staying safely out of reach.

"That's alright," she replied, and dove in.

He shook his head and started making his way below deck.

"Holy fuck it's cold!" her heard her shout.

He pulled a towel and a blanket out of storage and came back up the stairs. She was clinging to the ladder, shivering. Her lips were already blue.

"Come on," he called out patiently, holding the towel out for her. She rushed up the ladder and over to him, gratefully accepting the towel. Her teeth were chattering.

"You were right," she conceded, drying herself off. "Too cold."

He picked up the blanket and draped it over her shoulders. She sank into his chest with a grateful sigh, and he wrapped his arms around her, letting his chin rest on her cold, wet hair.

There was an easy contentment that came with holding her like this—the sense that she trusted him to keep her safe, the simple joy in the way she leaned into him. This was love, he realized. He loved her.

The words had always been hard for him. He had not felt much love in his life. He had always been hesitant to assign the label to feelings better described as affection or infatuation.

He loved Valerie.

He felt the words pool in his mouth, but he could not quite bring himself to say them. They were too unfamiliar—he wasn't sure how they would sound. He held her tighter, and he let out an audible sigh.

He gathered the courage later that night, when they were alone in the dark.

"Val," he whispered, with a hint of urgency. She didn't reply right away. He wondered if she was still awake.

"Mm?" she mustered, after a few moments.

"I love you."

"I know," she mumbled into her pillow. "I love you too. Go to sleep."