Author's note - This is definitely my most popular story, so I'm sorry, but I've been stuck. Now I'm kinda forcing myself to push on through with it because I can't just let it sit here forever. So, I hope ya'll appreciate the chapter. Reviews are much appreciated too.

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Melissa sank deep against her bed. It was just so soft, she couldn't stop speculating over the softness of this man made thing. Her father had been overjoyed, he wouldn't stop smiling, and he kept hugging her. He didn't leave her alone until she told him she was dead tired and had to get some sleep or risk fainting. Melissa hadn't looked too well, anyway - still bruised and cut up from her last encounter with humanity, but she was alive, which was more than he'd hoped for.

Of course, the first thing Melissa did was take a two hour shower, and then she cleaned the house of all the chocolate. It was good to be apart of a society. She'd never take it for granted ever again. Her father was more than happy to give Jackson a ride home, but the truth was - Jackson had to go home, and Melissa didn't want to let him go. Beaver had no where to go, though, so Melissa's father - Kelvin, had been more than happy to set up the couch for this kid.

Yes, Taylor was Beaver's first choice. But they were back in society now. Taylor's instincts and her own common sense had kicked in and she had told him - as nicely as possible - that her father would hate him. And after so long, she just didn't want to displease him, not now.

"Pssst!" Melissa lifted her head. "Are you asleep?"

"What's wrong, Beaver?" Melissa asked, allowing her head to drop back to the pillow.

Beaver took her answer as an invitation and he proceeded to enter the room. "It's been so long," Beaver murmured. "I mean, people don't often give you a place to sleep, food to eat…free…I don't know what to do. I can't sleep, not like this…not…in this situation. It's uncomfortable."

"You better be joking, Beaver," Melissa warned him. "It's been two months since the last time I got a decent night sleep, Beaver. It's not uncomfortable for me so…"

"Oh…" Beaver murmured, pacing back toward the door. "If I'm bothering you…"

"You know you can't just leave like that, Beeve," Melissa sighed. "What is the matter? Really?"

"Your dad's real nice," Beaver murmured, leaning back against the closed door and sliding down to the floor.

"That's the problem?" Melissa asked, propping herself up on her elbow.

Beaver cracked one of his smirks. "No. I dunno. Maybe. I've spent so long detesting authority just to detest them that…I dunno how to react when they aren't…authority like. Y'know?"

"No," Melissa admitted. "He is like everybody I've grown up with, mostly. That is my family out there Beaver. And yes, he is nice. I was lucky. But that doesn't mean you should be set off by him. Roll with his behavior, Beaver."

Beaver studied the carpet a few feet ahead of him. "I'm not sure I know how."

"What do you mean you don't know how?" Melissa asked.

"I don't think," Beaver admitted. "I know I know some stuff, but how I treat people…how I react, I'm not sure I can change it. I don't want to offend anybody but…I can't change. Not really."

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Jackson spread out across his bed, taking the smell of the freshly clean blankets in with a big breath. His foster parents had seemed excited enough. Or maybe that was just relief. What would've happened if he hadn't come back? Like Abby, or jordey? What could their parents be thinking now, knowing that their kids weren't quite so lucky. What could possibly be going through their minds after hearing that these teenagers merely thought about themselves and left their children, their family, behind? They couldn't ever forgive them. And Jackson wouldn't blame them if they never did. Abby would be pissed, not to mention the captain.

Jackson ran a hand across his now bare chest. His ribs were aching, and once he'd removed his shirt, he could see how red they were, but they were surprisingly devoid of bruising. His back though, his back was killing him, and no matter how many pain killers he took, the pain still persisted.

Jackson smirked. They'd simply left Rodney behind. After Rodney had attempted yet another betrayal, Jackson had opted to turn the tables and lock Rodney in the brig - the sort of temporary jail system ships have…or that ship had. Rodney had been pissed, and his temper went through the roof when Jackson shackled him to the bars. They'd simply left him. Hopefully the police would find him before he starved, but Jackson couldn't exactly say he cared all that much. He didn't.

Melissa had told him something before they'd parted. She had stated before that yes, she did like him, quite a bit actually, but he still couldn't figure out why. He was anti-social. He was brutal. He was barbaric and not from her world - not in the least. But she had told him something before they parted. She had told him that she loved him.

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"Is Lex tucked in?" Daley's father - Allen asked softly.

"Yeah," Daley said. "He passed out, but I always thought he slept pretty well even on the ground..."

"C'mon sweetie," Allen murmured, pulling Daley into another hug.

"I missed you too, dad," Daley murmured into her father's shoulder. "I missed you so much."

"I'm just glad to have you both back, in one piece," her father admitted. "If something happened to either one of you...I don't know what I'd do."

"The team was pretty effecient," Daley murmured. "We all looked after each other, dad."

"Thank god," Allen murmured. "Lex's mother...you know Pamela...she was going crazy...I'm just...I've never been this happy before in my life, Daley."

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Taylor leaned back in her chair. It was the perfect chair, really, and probably the thing she had almost missed the most. It seemed to absorb her and wrap comfort around her body. She'd taken a shower for probably no less than four hours, scrubbing the salt off of her body and out of her hair. It took her at least a bottle of shampoe to get rid of the smell of the island. She wanted to forget it forever.

Taylor closed her eyes, tilting her head back. Beaver was this strange boy that was forced into their lives, but even then he hadn't shown that much emotion. Yeah, when he had an asthma attack, that was traumatic, but he didn't freak out. If he had, he'd probably have died. He always seemed like this cool guy, that was showing everybody the side of him that he wanted them to see.

Taylor could see his face now, in her head, when she had told him that her father wouldn't approve. She had actually seen the pain cross his face before he stuffed it back down and shrugged it off. Beaver liked her, and she was pretty sure that she liked him just as much. But Beaver was poor, he had absolutely no money to his name. He was rough and filled with many sharp edges. The kids at school, her parents, no - they wouldn't understand. You can't just like someone. She didn't want them to pick at Beaver until they forced him away.

"I'm sorry, Beaver," Taylor murmured.

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"Hey, turn off the lights." The shout filtered through the walls, reaching Nathan's ears loud.

"Okay," Nathan shouted, reaching out an arm to flip off the light switch. He was just as happy as any of the survivors to make it back home, but it was just so foreign now. His parents had actually cried. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen real tears in their eyes before. But they'd cried, and made this huge Thanksgiving like dinner - all for him. He was overwhelmed.

Nathan couldn't possibly say how he expected their return to go, but this wasn't even in his mind at the moment. He figured most of the parents reacted much like this, except for the parents, the families that didn't get their children back. Not yet, anyway. But Nathan made himself promise that they would tell the authorities first thing in the morning. They still had the general idea of where the island lay from here. They would send help.

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Eric turned over onto his back. Normally, he was a very heavy - very quick sleeper. But he just couldn't find a means to sleep. He'd waited for this moment for two months. Wasn't he the one that always brought up the want to go home? Wasn't that him? And yes - his home wasn't perfect. People think it is - it's like they see money and they automatically link it with happiness. Those are lines that should never be drawn.

His parents were divorced, and his father was remarried to a bitch and his mother remarried to a dick that liked to use his pyhsical bruteness as a persuader. They shared custody, and they were both rich. But he was with his father now. His mother was supposedly the one that had 'lost' him. They did nothing but argue when he'd called them. He was sure they were happy, somewhere deep down inside of those shells that now possessed his parents. But they didn't show much eagerness when he actually got home. His mother had left - but at least she had come to see how he was.

Eric wasn't hurt, maybe sunburnt really bad but - all he walked away with was a shiner where Rodney had hit him and a mild headache. Things were good for him. Taylor and Jackson had been shot. Before they got to go home - they had to go to the hospital. Melissa was scared for life. He got off light. And he did knwo that he probably deserved the worst out of the entire group.

He was now trying to fall asleep - a feat he hadn't deemed as difficult before. He'd waited for so long to feel the soft comfort of his bed beneath him but now the joy of even that had vanished. He felt lonely. That's what it was. He'd slept with six other people for the past month or so - crammed inside a tent, and now he felt lonely - stretched out across his bed. He'd felt lonely for so long before - he couldn't even identify how he felt on that island. But it wasn't lonesome.