The Locke and The Key

Chapter Five

Ewan winced as Jack tightly wrapped the bandage around his knee. Jack smiled and said, "It shouldn't hurt THAT much, Ewan." When Ewan shook his head and bit his lip Jack asked, "How'd you get it?" He motioned down at Ewan's bruised, cut, scratched and beat up shin and knee.

"Um... running around in the woods, yeh know."

"I don't think so, Ewan. An animal made these cuts." He began rubbing some cream on Ewan's knee.

"Well..." Ewan DIDN'T want a reputation for lying, but he didn't want a reputation for being crazy either. He stuttered for a moment until he figured out what to say. "I don't exactly know my way around the jungle... I must've been quite off course..."

"Mmmhmm..."

"And I turn this corner and the next thing I see is the GIGANTIC polar bear comin' straight for me. I know it sounds crazy, but--"

"It's okay, Ewan. We've seen the polar bear too. You're not crazy."

"Oh."

Locke entered the room just as Jack finished wrapping the bandage. "How are you doing?" Locke asked as if he and Ewan had never fought a few days ago.

Ewan ignored him. "Well, why didn't you ever TELL me about the polar bear? I thought I'd gone MAD!"

"I see your back to your old self again," Locke said to himself.

"Bloody hell! Shut up already!" Ewan stood up and bunched his hands into fists. He began to put weight on his injured leg but screamed dramatically, "Arrggghhh!" He limped out of the cramped room and shoved Locke out of the way.

Jack was pretty sure he had heard Ewan sniffle a couple of times. "What's up with him?" Jack asked as he began packing up his medical supplies.

Locke simple shrugged, "He's been acting strange for the past few days."

"Maybe you should go talk to him," Jack suggested as he left the room. Locke just stood in the doorway deciding whether he would listen to Jack's advice or not.

Across the strip of bare beach, it was easy to spot Ewan. He was rocking back and forth in the sand, his arms hugging his knees. His bright green t-shirt was the focal point of the otherwise mellow scene. The left leg of his jeans were still bloody, shredded and mud-splattered. He was so upset, he hadn't bothered to change.

Locke sat down next to him and Ewan pretended not to notice. He continued doing exactly what he was doing before. "I just wanted to make sure you had calmed down..."

"I haven't," Ewan replied through gritted teeth.

"Well, maybe you can tell me what's on your mind."

Ewan just stared at Locke. He got his "you wouldn't understand" look across perfectly.

Locke asked one more time, "There's nothing you want to tell me?"

Ewan shifted his gaze to the ocean and concentrated hard. It seemed he was deciding whether to speak his mind or not. "No one here likes me," he said with difficulty. "I don't have any friends HERE."

Locke supposed that when Ewan said "here" he meant the island. He also guessed that Ewan meant he was used to having friends back home. Locke remembered he was a movie star. He wasn't used to this. But yet again, NONE of them were.

"I've tried to make friends, I have. But no one seems to like me."

"That's because on the island," Locke began, "Everyone loses their former status. Your life back home doesn't account for much here. For some people it's a good thing, others bad."

"That was deep, brotha."

"Brotha?" Locke laughed.

Ewan smiled weakly and then continued, "But it's true. I guess... I guess I have to change."

Ewan hadn't seen Locke in a while. He had heard from his new friend, Sayid, that he and Mr. Eko had gone on a little quest to find Henry, the man in the hatch. Now, Ewan sat doing what he loved most--staring at the crashing waves in the ocean. This time, he was thinking about what Locke and said and what he had said to Locke. He HAD tried to make friends before. He began a lit of failed attempts in his head to see what he needed to change about himself. Ana Lucia. I didn't expect her to like my personality, 'cause she's a chick. But when I asked her if my hair looked okay she just grunted... Sun. Sun's kind of my friend, but I think she's figured out I steal food from her garden. Who else has been "kind of" my friend? Walt. Walt liked me. He liked all the theatre games I'd taught him. Except for "Gestures". He didn't quite get that one... BUT HEY! I might have a friend here. If only Walt were back. And Desmond. Yes. If only I could see Desmond and Walt again...

Just his luck. Hurley was sauntering his way down the shore--head down, eyes low, feet dragging. Ewan hated to disturb him, but he knew he had a chance of getting his friend back. "Hurley!" he called.

Hurley barely lifted his head. "What," he grumbled.

"You've been in the hatch a lot. What're we doing about Walt?"

"A few people and Michael are going out tomorrow morning."

"Hey, thanks. I'll ask Michael about it."

I heart inner monolouges. I hope ya'll liked Ewan's as well. I know I shouldn't be submitting this chapter seeing as NO ONE's read chapter four yet. But, hey. It's here. I'm bored.

Oh yeah and COMMENTS, COMMENTS, COMMENTS! Please review whether you liked the story or not. Criticisum (though I can't spell it) is welcome.