Locke awoke differently than the other survivors that were taken hostage… he awoke to the smell of bacon… and coffee… and clean laundry. His bright blue eyes opened to find himself in a cozy twin bed, with a quilt keeping him warm. Dazed, he glanced around the room that was empty of people, but stocked with the usual bedroom furniture. He saw his pants, freshly laundered, hanging over the back of a chair. The door to the hallway was cracked open, and that's where the pleasant aromas of breakfast wafted in.
Locke sat up too quickly; still feeling some of the effects of the drugs, he was desperate for water. Luckily, there was a full glass on the bedside table, and he gulped it down. Confusion overtook his addled brain. Where am I? What happened? Where's Jack and Kate? But these issues couldn't take precedent over the gnawing hunger in his stomach, which roared as loudly as the questions in his head. The perfume of cured meat and hot coffee was mouthwatering and distracting, and Locke assumed he would either be given answers, or he would find them after he had eaten.
He entered the kitchen fully dressed but feeling naked without any of his knives. He didn't know how to prepare himself, whether he would be faced with a cunning foe, or an innocent bystander. Locke steeled himself for the worst, but when a beautiful woman with black curly hair and green eyes turned around with a plate of eggs and bacon, Locke didn't know how to react.
"Ya gonna eat or stand there and frown?" she said with a mild Scottish accent.
Locke hesitantly took a seat, and she set the plate down in front of him.
"Ya want cream in yer coffee?"
"Yes, thank you," Locke said, his voice coming out barely above a whisper, as the dryness in his throat had yet to subside.
"Here's some water, didn't ya see the water I left ya in the room?"
Locke nodded as he chugged, "Yes, I did, I finished it."
"Good, those drugs'll dry ya out, better drink plenty o' water."
"I'll be sure to do that, now, um, I appreciate the water, and the breakfast, and everything, ma'am, and I don't mean to be rude, but-"
"Who the hell am I? Oh love, yer not gonna be getting many answers today, but I'll give ya that one, my name is Melissa, you can call me Mel."
Locke didn't respond, the weight of her words didn't leave much room for further conversation. His stomach growled, and he decided he might as well eat. The fork and knife were practically forgotten as Locke shoveled the bacon, eggs, and toast into his mouth. He drank some more water to wash it down, and then remembered his coffee and sipped it with reverence. When Locke felt he could bear being separated from the table he looked up at Mel.
"What do you want with me?"
Mel smiled at him and he felt like she was genuinely kind, "You're here because you're special, John."
"Special, huh?" Locke thought of the failure he was wallowing in currently, his people were captured, as was he, and he had no idea how to free them, if they were even alive.
"John, think of this island like a box. Ya know something about boxes, don't ya, John? There are many boxes in the world, each with its own purpose. Some stay closed, unopened, unseen, while others are unpacked and discarded, but there's one box that's always been waiting for the right person to open it. You're the key to that box, John. You were brought here to open it."
"Open what? It's an Island!" John said, feeling exasperated by the metaphor.
"It isn't just a container that must be opened, it's a test. A test to see who has the strength, the faith, and the will to open it. Many have tried and failed, but you are the one. You're special."
"So what you're saying is…I'm here to be tested?"
"Aren't we all, John?" Locke narrowed his eyes at her, but she continued, "The Island isn't an ordinary place, ya knew that from the moment you stood up on two feet didn't ya?"
Locke froze, their eyes locked on each other.
"Don't be blinded by self-loathing, John. The Island chose you because you're special, and we're here to help you embrace your destiny. Now, wash your dishes and meet me outside."
When his plate and mug were drying on the rack, Locke joined Mel on the porch of the little yellow house they had been inside of. All around them, regular people went about their business, but each one was having to force their eyes away from John. They wanted to stare, to hear him speak, talk to him maybe, but they couldn't. Not yet.
"Where are Jack and Kate, Lauren, the baby?"
"They're safe. Somewhere. But they're not the ones you're here to worry about. No…" Mel trailed off, the rest of her sentence dying as they both watched an attractive man cross the courtyard.
The man joined them on the porch and stretched out his hand, "John, it's a pleasure. I'm Richard Alpert."
Locke looked at the man; he had dark hair and even darker eyes, but his aura was what struck John the most. He seemed wise, despite the youthful glow of his appearance. He couldn't be older than 45, yet there was something deep within his dark eyes that made Locke feel as if he knew the secrets of the universe, and so he shook his hand. Because maybe Richard could explain why he was able to feel his toes the minute he crashed on this island.
*Passage of Time*
Richard wasn't ready to give him any kind of real freedom or answers, but after a quick bout of unconsciousness, Locke was shown to a new Dharma station called The Hydra. The bearded man that took them, now freshly shaven, greeted them at the entrance.
"Is it really time to be doing this?" he barked.
"Yes, Tom, it is. Jacob wants him to be ready."
Locke's ears perked up, who is Jacob?
Tom slinked away from the entrance, allowing Richard and John to walk inside, they went down a long corridor and into a small office full of monitors. Richard stood back and John gazed at each screen intently, searching for whatever he was meant to be seeing. Soon enough, he spotted Jack in a glass room, pacing.
"Why are you keeping him here?"
"We need him for something."
Locke nodded, knowing that was all he was going to get, and he continued searching. Several screens showed empty rooms, or the treeline outside the station, but two monitors featured a set of cages outside. One of them held a girl in a torn pencil skirt and heels.
"Lauren… Why is she in a cage?" Locke shouted angrily. Lauren had done nothing to deserve this kind of treatment, and Locke felt a protective urge take over him.
"She's safe, John, she's alright. She's better off here, she just needs to learn."
"Learn what? How is she supposed to learn in a cage?"
"Calm down," Richard held up a hand, and Locke stopped pointing at him. "Lauren will one day be one of us. But she feels loyalty towards the other survivors of your plane crash, we have to break that."
"And what? I'm not loyal to the camp?" Locke felt insulted at the accusation, but also curious as to what had given away that hidden, inner truth.
"No, John, I think you're loyal to the Island, and that's what matters," Richard said with a small smile, and despite all the frustration Locke felt, he smiled back, because Richard was right.
*Passage of Time*
By the time Locke returned from the Hydra station, it was late into the evening. He was shown back to the house he woke up in, and Mel bid him good night. Locke wasn't stupid enough to believe he wasn't being watched, but it didn't matter since he had been so pumped up with drugs whilst being carted around the Island in secret over the last several days, that once he sat down on the couch he wasn't even able to take his boots off before falling back asleep.
It might have been the drugs that caused Locke to have strange dreams, but he knew he was dreaming when he woke up inside a hospital. He was pacing back and forth outside a room in the maternity ward, and his body was full of anxiety, yet he was aware that none of it was real. He stopped pacing and the dream started to whirl away, but just then a nurse popped out of the room and announced it was a boy. Locke walked slowly into the room, and the dream straightened out, crystalizing into a clearer picture.
"Isn't he beautiful, John?" The mother, a woman with one bright blue eye and one fierce green eye, asked.
John struggled to look away from the woman who was the perfect amalgamation of the two Kate and Claire in more ways than just eye color. He hadn't known Claire at all, only seen her from a distance, but there was a dreamlike certainty that that's who she was. She was both, at the same time. And she bounced the little bundle gently, cooing at him. When John finally looked at the baby, he was horrified. In its place was a giant rat, with huge pink bug eyes and a disfigured spine. It gnashed its teeth at Locke, as Locke tried to back out of the room, but the mother and child seemed tethered to him, moving when he moved. Suddenly, the clock on the bedside table in the hospital room flipped to reveal red hieroglyphics, one had a tall godlike figure, one an infant being raised up to the sky, and the third was a column of smoke. The rat squeaked loudly, commanding John's attention.
"John…"
He tried to remember that he was dreaming, that none of this was real, but the contrasting eyes pierced his soul, and the Kate/Claire woman held his gaze firmly.
"Your destiny…"
The dream started to lose focus, drifting away like smoke, but Locke could still kind of hear her.
"You must protect him…He's special… More than special…"
And just as everything was beginning to fade away and John was drifting into a deeper, more restful sleep, the rat attacked the mother, snarling loudly as it clawed and bit into her face. Locke awoke in a sweaty, panicked start; he wiped his brow and looked at the clock, but it was only 3:16 AM. Without the slightest idea of what the next day held, he tried to fall back asleep, but the few minutes he was able to drift off were filled with the faint sounds of squealing.