Disclaimer: I do not own Lost or its characters. I only own the story in my head.
Summary: They changed everything. Flight 815 never crashed, the island is underwater, and the same people are living different lives. So they think, because fate as other plans.
Sideways Stories from the Castaways
Sayid
Sayid Jarrah was driving his brother's car around downtown LA trying to clear his mind. His brother was home from the hospital and he told him that he took care of his problem. But now he had to further distance himself from Nadia. He couldn't escape the demons from his past, he was a killer and he was dangerous. He needed to keep her and kids safe.
They thought he was a translator but he wasn't, he was hired to make people's problems go away. It was the only thing he was good at. He scared people by being so calm when he killed; there was no sign or warning for him. There was no need he felt it best to get it over quickly, he didn't want people to suffer. He never enjoyed seeing people in pain, even when he was a tortured people for the Republican Guard. So he was quick and painless with his kills, most didn't even have time to realize what happened.
Nadia needed a man that didn't have blood on his hands and could give her the normal life she deserved. He would pack his bags and tell them a translator was needed in Paris. He could hide out there for awhile and maybe when everything calmed down he could return.
Suddenly he sees a bright red Porsche heading straight for him, he tries to swerve out to way but the Porsche still slams into him.
He shakes his head, rubs the back of his neck and winces as he moves. He didn't need this right now so he takes a deep breath and opens the car door; he gets out and grimaces as he moves his left leg. He limps over to the other vehicle and sees a blond woman frantically trying to rouse her brunette male passenger. He knocks on the window a few times to get her attention. Finally she looks at him and pushes the button to slide the window down. The woman's forehead and cheek were cut and bloody, the glass from her windshield had shattered.
He gets a better look at the young man who was unconscious and covered in blood; his right leg was caught under the weight of the crushed passenger side. "He'll be alright, I'll call an ambulance." He tries to reassure her, but she just panics some more.
As he's limping back to his car to get his cell phone he hears police sirens. He turns around to see a cop car pull up next to them. A female cop gets out and runs to the demolished Porsche and pulls out her radio. "This is Officer Cortez badge number 23 I have an 11-80, need an 11-41 immediately." She says. "What's the 10-45?" he hears through the crackle of her radio. "C, he's unresponsive."
He walks back over to them. "I'm sorry to have to ask this but while we wait for the ambulance can I see your driver's licenses and proof of insurance from both of you."
Sayid takes out his wallet and hands her his license and insurance card, the blond woman does the same. "And what is the name of your passenger, Miss Rutherford?" she asks.
"Boone Carlyle." She responds weakly.
"And his relationship to you?"
"He's my brother…step brother." She adds.
"Ok, " she says turning to him. "I would like you to accompany Miss Rutherford, Mr. Carlyle and me to the hospital. Both of you look like you can use a doctor checking you out as well."
He wants to protest that he's fine and that he just wanted to go home, he didn't care about the car he had the money to fix it but the two younger people were badly injured. They needed help and he didn't want to cause trouble. There was no way to connect to him the murders of Keamy and his men but he couldn't chance it by looking like he wanted to run. He nods his head. "Ok" he tells her. He'd have to call Nadia and tell her about the accident it obviously wasn't his fault, but the young man and women were in no condition to talk about insurance right now.
The ambulance arrives and they pry open the passenger door and take the young man the ambulance in a stretcher. The woman wants to ride with her brother so the cop asks him to ride with her. He gets into the passenger side. As they ride to the hospital he sees a picture of little boy that looked to be about 1 or 2. He guesses it's her son or nephew. He then reads the nameplate on the dashboard, Ana-Lucia Cortez.