Thump. Thump. Thum. Thu. Th. T…

As quickly as The Monster had entered their world, it faded away. Klaus opened his mouth to speak, but Caroline pressed her index finger against his lips' smooth surface, untrusting of the silence. Minutes escaped their grasp, and she and Klaus remained inside of the tree's grip, protected. At last, their names began to echo through the forest. "Caroline?! Sawyer?"

Her light blue eyes interlocked with Klaus' cold ones. She arched an eyebrow. Is it safe to go out there?, she asked him mentally. He responded with a shrug. He didn't have to send a message for his thoughts to reach her; she knew. Klaus was waiting for her command, because he trusted her own senses more than his. After a moment of debating, she pushed her way through the leaves. "Stefan! Is that you?!"

Klaus smirked, shaking his head back and forth. "Who else would be calling our names in a jungle located in the middle of an uninhabited island God knows where…"

She punched him lightly, as Stefan ran over to them. "Did either of you see that thing? What it looked like? How big it was? Where it went?" They shook their heads, both wishing they had. It hadn't really occurred to take notes for investigations while fighting for their lives.

Caroline began to walk, and then found herself tripping on a round object. With closer examination, it was revealed to be a mango. Well, that leaves starving to death out of my possible causes of demise. She sighed, and looked at the two boys.. "We should get going. The others are probably worried sick about us."

Klaus nodded, and moved his hand sideways as a gesture of approval. "Lead the way, love."

"Okay." She skipped a little around a fallen tree, of which was covered with moss that had a mint green hue. Leaves that had grown brown with age crunched as her feet made contact with them, and violet dragonflies stalked her every move. Just then, she spun around, eyeing him suspiciously. "Did you just call me love?"

Later that day, an adorable boy around ten years of age, pondered through the jungle. Walt Lloyd was well aware that his father would be outraged to find him away from the beach, but he didn't like being told what to do. Kicking a pebble like a soccer ball, he called his dog's name. "Vincent! Vincent, where are you boy? Vincent, come here!" After running around a little, he stopped. He bent down, and lifted up a familiar red leash.

Walt then tilted his head, and then continued to plod around the jungle, calling his yellow lab's name. "Vincent? Come here, boy." He paused for a second, growing doubtful. "Vincent?"

His eyes then widened, as a shiny silver object caught his eye. He picked it up, rubbing his fingers around the curved edges. "Walt", a familiar voice shouted, causing him to roll his eyes. "What the hell are you doing out here in the jungle?"

"I just thought… I thought… I wanted to find Vincent."

His father, Michael, looked down at his son with sorrow. He placed his hands on his son's shoulders, and began to talk. "Didn't you hear what I told you - To stay on the beach with the rest of us? After everything we've been through… I can't lose you again." He frowned, looking at the special gift the jungle had given Walt. "What's that?"

Smiling as if he'd won the lottery, Walt lifted a pair of handcuffs in the air. "I just found them!"

Terror swept through Michael's brain, as he thought about all of the possibilities. Why would handcuffs be on an abandoned island? He grabbed his son's hand protectively, causing his smile to fade with the knowledge that things were not okay. "Come on, let's get out of here…"

Not so long after that on the beach, chaos reminiscent of an earthquake took place. Klaus Mikaelson punched fellow crash survivor Sayid Jarrah's stomach, while Sayid furiously struck back at him. "Call me that again, I dare you."

"How dare you dare me. I can do whatever the hell I want." They spun around on the peachy sand, wrestling, "Who are you to defy me? We're on an island, and it doesn't look like anyone's gonna come and get us real soon. Do you want to know what that means?" Klaus smirked, blood dripping down his mouth. "No rules."

"No rules goes for both of us, you little-"

"Hey!" Michael shouted. "I think you're both gonna want to put your little personal wrestlemania on hold for a second." Stefan and Caroline walked over, curious. She leaned against a piece of wreckage, as Sayid and Klaus pulled themselves off each other. "My kid found these in the jungle."

Just then, he held up the item Caroline had been hoping, no, praying, he hadn't been talking about. He was holding up the item that could ruin the new start she'd created for herself on this bizarre, magical island. He'd held up handcuffs; her handcuffs. She had two options. She could make a run for it, climb up an old tree, and live out her days eating mangos. Or… She composed herself. Caroline took a deep breath, and then proceeded to make herself look shocked, no, disturbed. "Are those handcuffs?"

Klaus rolled his eyes. "What do you think, sweetheart? And I'm pretty sure I know who was wearing them." He looked at Sayid accusingly. "And it sure as hell wasn't the doctor."

With good reason, Sayid plunged onto Klaus, pulling out his hair, whispering just how good of a person he was to him. A circle gathered around them, watching their evening entertainment. Jeremy, Vicki, Matt, Bonnie, Hurley, Walt, Rose, Sun, Jin, and countless others stared, dumbstruck. Nobody knew what to do; nobody knew how to stop them, Nobody besides Caroline. Fury building up, she shouted, "STOP!"

It worked. Sayid and Klaus stopped fighting, in awe by the amount of strength this one person had within her. "We have bigger problems than this, and you both know it." She turned towards the crowd, pulling the transceiver out of Stefan's backpack. "We found a transceiver. It could get us off the island. Only, it's not working. Could anyone fix it for us?"

For a brief moment, nobody spoke. Then, Sayid raised his hand, shooting Klaus a dirty look. "I could maybe fix it."

Klaus clapped his hands together. "Bravo. Let's just trust the criminal, shall we?"

Caroline felt a little guilty, knowing that Sayid was getting the blame for what she'd done. But, she had to put herself before others. It was the only way she'd make it off the island alive. "We don't know what he hasn't or has done. He says, though, that he can help us. And I trust him. I think you should too."

He stormed off, angrily. "Whatever."

She chased after him. "Hey, I don't know what your problem is, but we don't have time for this. We need all the help we can get. It doesn't matter who we get it from; we're all on the same boat. If we want to get off this island anytime soon, we need to use all of our resources. You are one of those resources. Please, contribute. Don't waste your time fighting assholes when I know you're better than this. You… you have to be better than this."

He glared at her, kicking some sand as he stopped moving. "You think I'm such a good person, don't you? Well, I'm not. You really want to know what this so called good person underneath all of the bad has done? I'm a conman, Caroline. Nothing more, nothing less. I con people. I don't have a soul."

She shook her head, not believing him. "No. I've seen you, you know. With that piece of paper you carry around in your pocket. I've seen you open it up repeatedly, read it, and then carefully fold it up and place it back in your pocket. It means something to you. And anyone able to care about something, is capable of being saved."

"Capable of being saved, huh?" Klaus dug his hands through his pocket, reminding Caroline of those claw machines you saw at diners that picked up Beanie Babies. He crumbled the piece of paper, and threw it into her hands. "Read it," he spat.

Shaking, Caroline tried her hardest not to weep. "You don't have to do this…"

"Read it!"

"Dear Mr. Sawyer… you don't know who I am, but I know who you are, and I know what you done. You had sex with my mother and then you stole my dad's money all away. So he got angry, and he killed my mother. And then he killed himself too. All I know is your name. But one of these days, I'm gonna find you and I'm gonna give you this letter, so you remember what you done to me." She trembled a little, distraught. You killed my parents, Mr. Sawyer. From, Klaus."

Klaus looked away, ashamed. "You wanted to know what kind of man I am. That's the kind of man I am." He felt inside of his pocket once again, and pulled out an envelope. He tossed it onto the ground. "I don't need the envelope anymore. The paper is crumbled now anyway."

The two of them sat there for a minute, silent like the night. Two lost souls, two people with dark pasts, with nothing left to say, and nowhere left to go.

It had been almost two days since the crash. Survivors had begun to build themselves tiny huts, using the wreckage and giant leaves from trees as shelter. With not a boat in sight in the fizzy blue water that surrounded them, the hope of being rescued was beginning to diminish. It was still there, however, and Caroline knew that the only way she wouldn't get caught was if she pretended to want to get off the island like the rest of them. She tromped over to Stefan, who seemed to have his flirt on with a fellow survivor while managing the wounds of another. "I'm going on a hike," she announced, not bothering to excuse the other woman. The woman took matters into her own hands, and left.

"What are you talking about," Stefan asked, his face showing grimness, as if she was already dead. Dead. That was what Caroline would be if she pondered in the woods all by herself. His hazel eyes showed deep concern. "You know you'll die out there in the woods alone. That thing, whatever the hell it was, it's gonna get you."

She crossed her arms across her chest, offended by his lack of confidence in her. I can handle myself, probably better than he can. Unless, of course, he's secretly a criminal as well. Then we've got problems. After a moment, she snickered a little, amused by how protective he'd grown of her. "What, because I'm a woman I won't be able to handle myself? That's nice to know."

"That's not what I…"

Caroline rolled her eyes. "Relax. I was kidding. Sort of. Though, it doesn't make me feel great that you're doubting my ability to take care of myself, even if we just met. Sayid's gonna come with me, anyway. He fixed the transceiver, Thank God, but it'll only work from high grounds. I wanted to know if you wanted to come with us."

He scratched his head, eyeing Bonnie, who was rubbing her very pregnant belly. His focus then returned to the poor man with the shrapnel stuck in him, who desperately needed his help . You know I can't. I'm the only doctor in the group, I've got to take care of everyone. But I want to take care of you too. So I will. With these words of advice: Caroline, if you see anything, hear anything… run."

With that, Caroline wandered over to Sayid. His curly black hair needed a severe wash, and he was beginning to smell. Actually, they all were. She made a mental note to check the pile of suitcases found in the luggage compartment for deodorant and perfume for everyone. "The others," he began. "They know about what happened with the pilot." Surprise attacked her face, causing Sayid to lead into further explanation. "You and the doctor may have been as silent as lambs, but your southern friend is telling anyone in exchange for an item from their suitcase."

Well, he is a conman. A rather smart one, actually. Trading his secrets for supplies to keep for his own good. If there was a zombie apocalypse, I'd place my bet on him for longest survival span. It then occurred to her that they themselves were in their very own form of a zombie apocalypse, one in which their survival rate was diminishing by the second. "If you know about the pilot, then you probably know what he said to us as well. Nobody's coming for us. They're all looking in the wrong damn place. So if you want to get off this island, which, I'm guessing you do, then you're gonna have to risk your life doing so. What makes us think that we're safe on the beach? The Monster could just walk out of the forest, and murder us all. Either way, we have a chance of dying. It's just up to us if we want to die huddled together like cowards, or being fighters. Because that's what we are, fighters. We survived an airplane crash, but we didn't let that stop us from slowly civilizing. From coming together as a group."

Sayid grinned, revealing his marshmallow white teeth. "How could I say no after you gave a speech like that?"

Victoria Donovan hugged her knees, heartbroken by the gory sight that laid before her. A yellowing dead man, with his terrified eyes wide open stared right at her, haunting the air around them. She'd never seen a dead body before. When her father had died, her stepmother had refused to let her or Matt to see his body in the casket. She'd always thought that the first body she'd ever seen would be her husband's, maybe when they were both seventy-five years old and gray with age. Now here this one was, and she was as young as twenty. Matt walked over, staring at her staring at the body. "What the hell are you doing, Vic."

Her focus remained on the body, and she refused to let the solemn expression on her face disappear as she answered him, "I'm mourning the dead. You should try it some time. I heard it's customary to do, oh, I don't know, everywhere."

He scoffed. "You didn't even know the guy." She didn't respond; it was as if she was in a parallel universe, yet her spirit had been left behind in this one. "We're moving aside some of the wreckage. You should help. I don't know if you know what helping is, considering you haven't had to work for anything your past twenty years of living, but I think we'd all be grateful." Vicki's mouth dropped, causing Matt to feel relieved. "Good, you can hear me."

"I've contributed before."

Matt snorted. "Yeah, sure you have. That is, of course, if contributing means ordering me around ever since my mother married your father. We're all mourning, Vicki. You don't think that at least half of the group lost someone yesterday? Because they have. The only difference is that they aren't giving themselves pedicures and crying over total strangers."

"Go fuck yourself," she hissed, reminding Matt of the pet dog he'd had when he was fourteen. No matter how hard he'd tried to train it, it never stopped biting him. One day, he had to give Buddy away. Meanwhile, Vicki's eyes flickered over towards Caroline and Sayid, who were packing up to go. "I'm going with them."

"Like hell you are."

"I am. And you can't do anything about it. See, this is me contributing." With Matt chasing after her, she walked over to them. "I'm going," she informed Caroline, with such force that she jumped a little.

"No she isn't." argued Matt. "She says things she doesn't mean a lot. We've had trouble controlling her, ever since she was a kid."

Vicki glared, while Sayid and Caroline turned their heads back and forth, struggling to keep up with their quarrel. "Oh, shut up, and stop trying to be the charming older brother. I'm going." Just then, Jeremy Gilbert passed by. Vicki noticed the small brown bag filled with powder in his pocket, and called him over. "Hey, you're coming, aren't you?"

Jeremy blushed a little, clearly smitten by her. "If you are, then yeah, I guess I am."

Caroline exchanged a hesitant glance with Sayid, and then sighed. "Fine, you can all come if you want. But we're leaving now. So don't slow us down, and keep up, 'cause we aren't waiting for you."

The five of them took off into the jungle, while Jeremy sang a few of his band's songs. The rest of the group remained on the beach, going about what would soon become their regular daily lives. Little did Caroline know, that they were being watched.

Klaus Mikaelson sat on a part of a shattered wing, being careful not to get hurt by sharp edges. Far away from the rest of the group to send the message that he was too cool for them, he smoked what he thought would be his final cigarette. Proving himself wrong, he smoked another cigarette, trying to keep her of his mind. But he couldn't. In such little time she'd gotten under his skin, and he couldn't shake her. How he wished he could stop thinking about her and the uneven ratio of freckles on each side of her face. Suddenly, he felt the urge to do something he'd done many times before throughout the years. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket. It was empty, apart from one thing. A folded piece of paper.

He read it slowly, taking in each word, letting each word imprint into his heart. Reading that letter made what was usual a tough guy vulnerable. His eyes teared up, and he knew what he had to do. He folded the note up, placed it and the wallet back into his pocket, and grinded the cigarette with his leather chukka boots. Speeding past a small kid using a dog leash as a lasso, he chased after Matt, Vicki, Jeremy, Sayid, and Caroline. Accidentally running a little too fast, he surpassed them revealing himself.

Her eyes locked with his. She didn't look pleased; not as pleased as he was to see her. "Sawyer. You decided to come. What made a soulless conman decide to become a part of the group?"

You, he wanted to say. I came for you. Lacking the courage to do so, he gave an obnoxious smirk. "I'm a complex guy, sweetheart." There. That'll make her like you. Would it be so damn hard to be nice for once?

"You know, you try too hard."

"Huh?" He led the way, leading them out of the jungle and onto a giant field of uncut green grass. It was a bumpy hill that none of them had ever seen before. The two of them led the group, who were lurking far behind them.

"To be a bad guy. You claim to have done all of these terrible things, and then you risk your life coming out here with the rest of us? No, I don't buy your act. Try all you want but I know there's a person in there somewhere." She gave a toothless smile of understanding, making Klaus have to cover his face to keep himself from revealing a smile of his own.

"Believe what you want, Freckles."

"Don't you worry, Klaus," she pouted teasingly. "I will."

"We'll see about-"

"I knew it. You just responded to Klaus. Which means… I was right." Klaus looked at her, startled. "After our conversation, I kept thinking about you. Trying to figure out why you act the way you do. I'd kept the envelope from the letter, don't know why. Anyway, when I looked at it, that's when I saw. It was America's bicentennial, in Knoxville, Tennessee. You were only a kid then. Your name's not Sawyer, his is."

He glared, hating the fact that someone really knew him, knew his story. A part of him was relieved, though. She seemed like someone he could trust, someone he could talk to eventually about anything. It's hard to find trustworthy people these days… "Caroline, you don't know the full story. After he screwed over my family, took away everyone that mattered to me, I made it my goal to find him one day. So I wrote him a letter, one that I intended to read to him one day. But wait, there's more. When I was a teen, I needed some money to pay off some guys I'd gotten in trouble with. So I found a pretty woman, and convinced she and her husband to give it to me. Isn't that sad? I became the man I had sworn to kill. I became Sawyer."

Caroline had never thought she'd ever find someone just as messed up as she was. She reached out her hand, trying to comfort him. "Hey, I didn't-"

"Don't. Just don't, Caroline." Gaining momentum, he ran as fast as he could, getting away from her and the emotions that came along with her.