And another. Please r&r!
Disclaimer: I own nothing, although I really, really wish I did.
Chapter Two:
A memorial. They wanted to burn up the bodies, watch their own worlds go up in flames. Small deaths, every one of them.
Elliot was never one to dwell on death.
She had too many other things to do. She could see Finn in the crowd, swaying towards Boone, the pregnant girl called Claire reading off the names of the dead passengers. What mattered to Elliot was that she was alive, and so was Finn, and that was that.
So she slipped out in the cover of darkness, stars guiding her into the forest. She hiked for hours, only stopping for brief rests and drinks of water. She had told Finn where she was going but not why, and he hadn't asked. One of the things she loved about him. Exploration was enough explanation.
She wasn't exploring though, not really. She was going in with the intention of finding them.
Them that she had grown up warned with, them who were the characters of her bedtime stories, on the rare occasion she got any. Them who had betrayed, them who had killed, them who would bleed.
She had gotten tired of hearing about them after awhile, but it made her father happy, and that made her happy.
It was only after dawn was finally beginning to rise in the sky that she heard the rustle. She had stopped again, contemplating going back. People would notice her absence now, and even if Finn explained it off, he couldn't keep their curiosity at bay for too long. But then.
But then they came suddenly, swiftly, quietly bursting through the tree line. She was slow because of the heat, and there were far too many of them. She never stood a chance.
She kicked at the first one, slashing with the knife she had stolen from Sawyer when he wasn't looking. Judging from the sharp cry that broke the silence of the jungle she had made contact. She turned then, fist swinging to catch another in the jaw. They fell back and muttered an oath, and just as she pulled back to raise her foot in a kick, two pairs of hands grabbed her knife and easily restrained her beating, squirming body.
For all he had told her, in the end, she was only a girl.
Her breath came in heavy pants, but a smile still arched her face as her eyes latched onto the man who came to stand in front of her.
"Benjamin Linus. I would say nice to meet you, but under the circumstances..." she trailed off, shrugging as much as she could beneath restraining hands.
Be polite as you can, he had taught her. But never to them.
"Elliot Widmore," he replied, peering at her over the edge of his wire rimmed glasses. "Nice to finally put a voice to the name."
...
She awoke with a swift gasp, upper body jerking, arms flailing, hands clutching onto the first thing them came into contact with. A blanket, scratchy and etched with a familiar airline sign.
A persistent throbbing pulsed in her head, and she almost cursed out loud. Fucking bastard, Ben Linus was. Knocked her out as soon as they had exchanged a few empty promises, put her back right where she had come from.
Not worth it, in the end, you weren't worth it because you're dirtyhelplessuglywrong.
She shook her head, winced at the pang it brought. Scrambled from the tent and pushed her long hair from her face, scowling the whole way. Stupid, stupid man. He would pay for that.
"Oh, Elliot. You're awake," Jack glanced over from his spot just outside, scrambled up from the sand to intercept my pouting form.
Sayid, Kate and the Australian Charlie looked up as well, conversation with the good doctor interrupted.
"You're friend Finley was looking for you," Charlie squinted at her, nodding towards the other end of the beach.
"Yeah, thanks," she muttered, rubbing a hand down her face, head feeling as if it had been kicked a good few times.
"Finn said you'd gone into the jungle to explore a little, but Locke found you lying unconscious at the edge of the jungle a few hours ago. Do you remember what happened?" Jack stared down at her, eyes wide and innocently kind, too kind.
Kindness got one killed, in Elliot's world, at least.
She slid her teeth out to gnaw at her lower lip, lying easily. "Nope, no idea, sorry. My head hurts but I can't remember anything since the memorial."
"Really," Sayid's accent tinged voice sounded from below, disbelieving.
She turned her gaze to him, narrowing her eyes and resisting the urge to bare her teeth at him like an animal. What was his problem? Why couldn't he mind his own business?
"Really. Can I go now? Finn's probably...worried," she dragged out the last word, almost disbelieving it herself. Like he could be worried about her.
"Of course. Just be sure to tell me if you remember anything, or if something else seems off. I want to make sure you don't have a concussion" Jack smiled down at her.
She didn't smile back.
Only nodded her thanks, made her way towards the other end of the beach, to Finn, to familiar snark and the sound of home.