Hi! Another re-written chapter. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter One:
Survival is a funny think, Elliot thought to herself when they found out the transmitter didn't work. Survival is fickle, and violent. More are born than can survive, that's what Darwin said, and it's about a constant fight against the unfair circumstances to which people are born. It's often the smarter, and the richer, and the prettier that survive, not the nicest, and so survival for Elliot was not about being nice. She did not kid herself, or anyone around her, that she was a very nice girl.
That's why she had taken to Finn. Or rather, Finn had taken to her, because he didn't want bullshit and she didn't give it. So when the skinny, eyeliner clad pale American had decided to befriend her, she decided to give in. And that was that.
After all, she thought now, it was nice to have a friend. Especially when you find yourself stuck on a deserted island with no transmitter.
Boredom was what they fought against, so eventually Finn convinced her to take a sit by the water so he could people watch this shit show. She let him, let the waves roll by their backs and lick her fingertips, let the paperback copy of Wuthering Heights she found get a bit waterlogged.
Until the fighting began.
Then she watched.
She liked to watch games about survival.
Two men, the darker skinned, suspicious one from the first day and the other a blonde with a heavy Southern drawl, were exchanging punches on the sand. A crowd had gathered, and when Elliot glanced to her left she saw the hungry grin of her friend as he looked on, as the sand blew sideways, as the water lapped her fingertips.
Neither was winning, but if Elliot was to bet on one, it would be the blonde. He had something feral about him, something animal, and she liked animal. She could understand it, at least. The other was more guarded, kept and locked up tight, controlled. She liked that too, but not in other people.
But then the man, Jack, a doctor Finn had informed her yesterday, broke up the fun. And she went back to her book, so she didn't even notice when he came back because she hadn't even noticed he had left.
"They need help fixing the transmitter, and I told them you could probably do it," Finn pouted, because he knew she wouldn't like to be involved and would be mad at him for suggesting it.
He kicked the sand by her feet, and she stared. Maybe, just maybe, he wanted to go home more than she had thought. Maybe he was more worried than she had guessed.
"Fine," she answered finally, and he stopped kicking, looked up at her with baby wide blue eyes, so similar in color to her own.
"Seriously?" he raised his eyebrows, bit his pointer finger.
She shrugged, stood and followed his now bouncing form over to the dark man from the fight and the large, curly haired man from yesterday. The one with the kind face. Elliot hated kindness.
They sat on two pieces of driftwood, weathered and cracked with salt water, and the dark one was fiddling with the transmitter.
Finn cleared his throat and shoved Elliot forward. She resisted the urge to punch him in the nose and squinted at the transmitter instead, wondering why the hell they would need her help if the dark man was already toying with it.
"This is her," Finn supplied when they didn't look up, and the big man finally met her eyes and grinned, friendly.
She narrowed her eyes.
"We could use all the help we need with this thing, and Finn said you were a genius with these things," the man said, words bouncing out of his mouth too fast.
She shrugged again, sat next to Finn on another piece of driftwood. Didn't like the bare scratch of it on her legs.
"Big book," the man nodded towards Brontë's masterpiece, smiling wider. "My name's Hurley, by the way. This is Sayid. Sorry, I forgot what Finn said your name was?"
"Elliot," she says without looking, fingers running through the soft pages of the novel.
"Cool. How old are you guys, anyway?" he smiled more and wider and Elliot absolutely hates it.
"Eighteen. Well, Ellie's seventeen, the baby," Finn grinned at her, reached over to ruffle her long hair.
"I'll cut your fingers off," she murmurs low enough for only Finn to hear, but from the way the dark man's (Sayid, his name, he had a name of course) hands stilled on the transmitter she knew he heard.
"Here. You can try making this work, if you're as smart with electronics as your friend says you are," Sayid hands her the transmitters, and she can hear the insult coating every syllable.
Their fingers brush together and he pulls away fast, faster than anything she's seen, and she snatches the transmitter to her chest because she doesn't want to touch him anyway.
Her fingers are clutched around the warm plastic as she reaches to fiddle with the jumble of wires, and a line pops up on the screen, black and flat.
"There. No service," she says, handing back the transmitter and picking up her book again.
That's as far as her services go.
"Dude. How'd you do that?" Hurley is staring wide eyed at her, and she drinks it right up.
"Elliot good at doing shit to electronics," Finn tells him, almost proudly, and her mouth quirks up against her will. He forgot to mention her mostly illegal proclivities, and how that was what led her to electronics, and hacking, in the first place.
"We need a signal. Maybe if we go higher," Sayid trails off, and she finally looks up, following his gaze to the top of the mountain that outfits the middle of the island like the star at the top of a Christmas tree.
"Worth a try," she mutters, standing up and brushing sand off her bare legs, fingers still running over the soft your skin is so soft it's always so soft isn't it? pages of the book.
Finn let out a sigh, leaned back on the log. "I guess I'll come with."
Elliot rolled her eyes down at him but offered a hand anyway, because he was the only one who had offered her one when it had mattered the most.
A handsome man named ran to join them, young, and Finn was making moon eyes at him before they even got past the first foot of trees. His stepsister, Shannon, was the one who had pierced Elliot's ears with her obnoxious screaming and apparently the one who wanted to prove she could help. Elliot doubted it, but at least it would be fun to laugh at her with Finn.
The walk up the mountain was rough. Elliot was a good climber, agile and fast. But the roots and spiky vines that protruded from the rocks left her legs with scratches and bites like she was five again.
By the time they reached firm footing again the fighting between Sayid and the blonde man, who had forced himself into the group, had escalated to shouting. Finn kept poking Elliot in the side until she told him she wouldn't just cut off his fingers, but his feet and face too, and then how hard would it be to get the young Boone to like him.
He stopped, but bared his teeth at her in a smile anyway.
She glanced around to make sure no one was looking before sticking her tongue out in return.
That's when they heard the growl, deep and low, resonating through the tall grass.
Shannon started screaming.
"It's coming towards us! We need to go!" Kate yelled past the rustling of whatever hell beast was barreling towards them all.
Finn stumbled slightly but Elliot grabbed his arm, roughly pulled him forward by the thin skin of his wrist.
"Sawyer!" Kate gasped, turning back to look at the scruffy blonde who stood, feet planted firmly on the ground, immovable.
"Let him go," Sayid growled, grabbing Kate as Elliot had grabbed Finn and hauling her forward.
Two things happened simultaneously. A white ball of fur emerged from the grass, and Sawyer pulled a gun.
One. Two. Threefourfivesixseveneightnine. The shots rang out, deafening.
The monster collapsed, blood matting its white fur.
A polar bear. Elliot paled, fingers still clutching Finn's thin wrist. A polar bear. A mysterious island.
She knew exactly where they had crashed.