Title: The Half Way Island

tth100 theme: Witches

Crossover fandom: Lost

Characters: Tara, various

Prompt: 016- Water

Word Count: 405

Rating: U

Disclaimer: Tara and the Lost folk belong to their respective owners, i.e. not me.

NOTE: This is based on a 'theory' about Lost, I'm not sure if you've heard it and I have no idea if it's true, but that's what's happening/

--On with the story…--

She couldn't breath. That was the first thing she noticed. Then she opened her eyes and was aware of the salty water surrounding her.

Tara swam to the surface and looked around. She was quite close to an island, but there was nothing else. Maybe she could get some answers there. As Tara swam towards the island, she put her thoughts together. There was blood, lots of it, her blood. She'd been with Willow- how would she be reacting to this? Thinking about Willow hurt. She would never see her again.

There was shouting coming from the island now, they'd obviously seen her slowly swimming towards them. Tara pushed all thoughts of Sunnydale to the back of her mind and focused on the task at hand. When she managed to stagger to her feet, two people ran into the sea and held her up between them, muttering to each other.

A tanned man wrapped his arm around her waist. "Where did she come from?"

"I said I didn't see, Jack." The woman replied testily.

The man, Jack, noticed the blood on her shirt. "What's that?"

Tara looked down disbelievingly. She had been shot, she was dead. But why was she here? Where was here? "I…I was shot."

"Who are you?" The woman asked bluntly. It was a fair question.

"Tara. Where are we?"

"On an island."

Tara mentally rolled her eyes. She'd figured that much out herself.

"Our plane crashed here a while back. We're waiting for the rescue team." She didn't sound very hopeful, Tara noted. How long had they been stuck on this island without being traced? Was that even possible? It smelled rather strongly of divine intervention, but why?

"They haven't come for you yet?" Tara said. They were at the beach now and a small crowd had formed around them.

"The plane crash was bad. We shouldn't have survived."

"But you did. Why?"

"We don't judge." A new voice, another man but this one was older and rougher looking.

"How did you get here?" Another new voice, a young boy with his arm around a growling golden retriever.

"Why are you here?"

Tara, her mind still full of questions, looked around the island frowning. She was dead…there was no way these people could have survived…they couldn't be traced …other dimensions…judgment…waiting for something, they thought it was a rescue but it couldn't be. Death. Waiting for judgment. It clicked.

"Because I'm dead."

--Finis—

Extra points for those who understood this fic. I'm not sure I do and I wrote the thing. Reviews please.