Hi guys! So sorry I haven't posted in forever, I've been insanely busy. But the school year is winding down, and I'll finally be able to work on this again and devote the time it deserves :) Thank you so much for everyone who's still reading! Reviews are always appreciated!
Disclaimer: I own nothing except Elliot
Chapter Six:
She met him when she descended into darkness.
Her hands shook on the railings, but she held strong, and when she finally reached the ground it was to see a man holding a gun to Locke's head.
The man whirled to face her with a wild, animal look in his eyes, and Elliot just stared and stared and stared.
"Who are you?" he snarled.
"Elliot Mason," she lied easily, stealing Finn's surname without a thought. "Nice to meet the mystery man Locke's been looking after for the past month."
"Were you on the plane?" the man flourished the gun at her, pushed Locke away.
Elliot flinched back, just barely but there. Don't show fear, she reminded herself. Fear gets you killed.
"Yes. What's going on here?" she raised an eyebrow and let him spin his story, even though she knew how it was going to end.
She ignored the video he pulled out after, focused her attention on the man. Shoulder length brown hair, heavy Scottish accent. She knew who he was, of course, had seen pictures of him. Had hated him for the love he gave the one woman Elliot wanted to deny it; never cared when he'd disappeared.
The shooting started, then. The old computer broke easily. He ran.
She never got to ask him any questions.
"We need someone to fix it. Elliot, you're good with that, right?" Locke instructed, scooping up the gun that Desmond, of course it was Desmond, had left behind.
"Of course. Computers built after my birth. I never learned to fix anything that was made before my time," Elliot roller her eyes and glanced with a little hesitation towards the clock counting down.
"Get Sayid. He may know how to fix it," Locke threw the words at Jack, who climbed back up to the ground world with ease, eager to escape the strange world they had found underneath the hatch.
The moment Sayid arrived the started barking out instructions. Elliot stood to the side, arms crossed and back against he cold metal wall that had held the blood of her blood's fiancé for so long, a lifetime.
And still she felt nothing.
"You can't help?" Sayid almost growled over to her as he inspected the computer.
She shrugged lazily, let her eyes run over the old machine. "You seem to have it covered. I told Locke, I don't really know much about computers before my time."
"Folly of the young," he muttered as he worked, jaw clenched in obvious annoyance.
She smiled.
He fixed it, eventually. And Jack came to press the numbers in, too. The world didn't explode, and nothing monumentally universe changing happened except that suddenly, people had new jobs.
Overall, the next few days were uneventful. People had the food that had been discovered in the hatch, and generally, they were happy. Boone's death was forgotten easily, in the end.
But there was no such thing as happy, on the island. Elliot wished everyone would remember that.
Blood followed blood, it seemed, and Shannon was dead.
A few people seemed distraught. Two siblings, right in a row. Seemed odd, not coincidental, Elliot thought. But no one asked her.
The people from the tail of the plane were found, as well, and turned out to be a terrible omen. The leader had shot Shannon.
Elliot didn't attend the funeral. Instead she sequestered herself away in the little clearing she had come to call her own, with a notebook and a pencil, and waited it out. She hated funerals. She didn't want to hear sentimental words spoken by anyone that had cried when the girl was gone. She didn't like tears.
Sayid burst through the trees, breathing heavily, suddenly, there. Froze when he saw Elliot.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded, striding to her now with purpose.
She scrambled to a standing position, held her head high. Regal, almost, like a queen about to destroy her enemies.
"What are you doing here? Isn't there a funeral you should be attending?" Elliot countered coldly.
His teeth ground together so loudly she could hear it.
"It's done. You didn't have the good graces to attend, I see, unlike Finley. It makes me wonder why he'd choose someone like you as a friend in the first place," he hissed at her, and she almost crumpled with rage and regret, because yes, she often wondered the same thing.
"Why do you care if I was there or not?" Elliot shot back, crossing her arms defensively.
"It's respectful," he snarled, anger coloring his skin red. "But you wouldn't know about that, would you. And now you have the audacity to mock me. Disgusting."
She stood in shocked silence for a few moments, staring up at him.
"Excuse me? I have the audacity? You were the one who bloody barged in here like a raving lunatic. I was just enjoying my time alone before you decided to come and interrupt me. Bloody fucking idiot," she muttered, pushing past him and scowling at the dirt as she walked away.
She could barely resist growling back at the man, composure lost. He didn't know her. He acted like she'd never felt the stab of loss before, never felt the way grief clutched her heart in a painfully tight grip. She hated him for it.
Elliot took a seat next to Finn, who looked over and grinned at her before going back to the book he was reading.
She put her head down on her raised knees and closed her eyes, letting herself drift off to the sound of waves crashing on the sand.