Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Whispers in the rain. That’s how it started. The pair’s eyes dart back and forth through their surroundings, until she spots him. Walt.

Shannon flicks back to Sayid, then to the soaking wet image of Walt. He stands there, eyes burning holes through the both of them. She looks back at Sayid, whose face is one of complete disbelief. Disbelief and realization.

"Do you see him?"

There’s no verbal response from him, only a small nod. He believes her now.

"Walt!" she yells, hoping that maybe this time he’s real, that this time he’ll give a response. She doesn’t get one.

"Walt!" Shannon screams through the pouring rain again, only now she’s on her feet, running directly towards the apparition of the young boy. The figure of Walt moves, disappearing into the brush behind him as the young woman continues to give chase. "Walt, wait!"

The whole time, Sayid remains frozen, eyes transfixed on where Walt had just been standing. It doesn’t make sense. Walt was on the raft. The conflicting, contradicting thoughts cloud his mind, rendering him motionless, until he finally changes his gaze to the love of his life chasing a hallucination deeper into the forest.

"Shannon!"

He’s up in a flash, several feet behind her. Sayid narrowly avoids tripping over a small log on the ground, instead leaping over it to catch up with Shannon. Not far ahead of him, Shannon herself pushes through tall plants and low hanging leaves. She can’t see Walt anymore.

Pushing more aside, her vision locks on something else. People, more than one. She hears more hushed whispering, only this time there’s no echo, and they’re not swirling all around her. These are real.

One last bit of brush stands between her and these mysterious people, and she’s about to charge through it, when a pair of strong arms grab her and pull her back.

"Shannon, you shouldn’t—"

Sayid’s voice is interrupted by a thunderous gunshot, and Shannon’s body jolts. He looks down, and his heart drops, seeing a pool of red stain the abdomen of Shannon’s white shirt.

"Sa— Sayid—" her voice is filled with confusion, panic, and most of all, pain . Her legs go weak, and she collapses into Sayid’s arms.

In one swift motion, she’s scooped into Sayid’s arms. He allows himself a few seconds to let the fear through, for his limbs to feel like jelly, for his breathing to become shaky and ragged at the sight of his love bleeding in his arms.

"Shannon! Oh, god, Shannon, no—"

And then he stumbles forward, coming out of the brush. He falls down to his knees in the muddy soaked ground, Shannon crying out in pain as he does. She slides out of his hold, now lying flat on the ground. Sayid changes his position, one with both hands pressing down firmly on her stomach, applying deep pressure to her wound.

Shannon’s head rolls back and forth, rain falling in her face while she takes rapid breaths. "What– What happened? Sayid, what’s going on, wh..."

Her voice grows weaker, eventually trailing off in favor of groaning from the pain. Sayid keeps the pressure on her wound, and lifts his eyes to meet the culprit. A young latina woman, still holding the gun aimed in their direction. As soon as the two make eye contact, she lowers it, though. Behind her stands a tall, strong looking man, an older, shorter man, and another skinny blonde woman.

Two more figures walk up in the rain. Jin and Michael, who are both holding a makeshift stretcher, in which an unconscious Sawyer currently lies. The two conscious familiar faces stare at their friends in shock, eyes glued to Shannon’s writhing body on the ground.

"What the hell happened? What did you do? "  Michael asks the latina woman, tone harsh and accusing.

"I thought—," the woman pauses mid-sentence, her body nearly frozen, and her mouth stumbling over her words, desperately trying to cling to a response, "I was worried that it was more of them. They already took Cindy, there could’ve been more out here."

"Well it wasn’t."

Before any of them can register her words, the other blonde and the older man rush past her and kneel beside Shannon, in front of Sayid.

"Bernard, Libby, what the hell are you doing?"

"Enough, Ana Lucia," comes the stern interjection of the taller man.

Sayid looks down at Shannon again, whose lips quiver as she breathes.

"Did the bullet go through her?" the blonde, Libby, asks.

An instant head shake from Sayid. "No, no it’s still inside her."

"Shit. She needs to get it out, now ."

"Jack," Shannon gasps from the ground, "Jack, we need Jack, we need him—" her words are followed quickly by a round of coughs.

"Shannon, look at me," Sayid whispers, not allowing himself to sound afraid even one bit. She complies, looking into his eyes, "you’re going to be okay."

The older man, Bernard, digs through a small pack until he pulls out what he’s looking for; gauze pads. "Who’s Jack?"

"Our doctor. A spinal surgeon, but he’s all we’ve got," Sayid says, "and I’d like to get Shannon to him before she bleeds out, instead of just sitting here doing nothing."

"Here, I’ll help you lift," Libby says, and prepares to lift one half of Shannon, only for Sayid to scoop her up again all on his own.

"I’ve got her."

Bernard walks up with the gauze pads. "God, she’s bleeding through her shirt. Put these on the wound, hopefully they’ll contain her bleeding till we get back to your people."

Screams from Shannon are almost drowned out by the rain, as Sayid lifts the bottom of her shirt and allows Bernard to press gauze on her wound, acting as a temporary covering.

"Are you a doctor, too?"

"A dentist, actually. Guess you could say I’m all they’ve got," Bernard replies with a dry chuckle. He turns to the others and waves them all on, "let’s go, if we want these two to live then we need to hurry."

Michael and Jin start walking with the stretcher carrying Sawyer. They stop beside Sayid, who looks at Sawyer, then over at Ana Lucia, vitriol in his eyes. "Did she shoot him, too?"

"Others," Jin says.

"They kidnapped Walt," Michael adds, "took him right off our damn raft, and then blew it to hell."

"And our friend Cindy, just a few minutes ago," the quiet, tall man interjects, "that is why Ana Lucia got a little too impulsive with her weapon."

"Seriously, Eko, you think now is the time to be passive aggressive?" Ana Lucia snidely remarks.

Sayid looks between Michael and Eko. "I’m sorry."

"I’m trying not to think about it. Let's just focus on getting Shannon and Sawyer to Jack, then—"

"Whoa, whoa," Ana Lucia suddenly cuts in, "who’s the one calling the shots around here?"

Sayid just glares. "Not you anymore."

She tries to block their path, however Jin roughly shoulders her, saying something in Korean. Passing her, Michael pauses next to her.

"He said ' stay out of our goddamn way' ."

Ana Lucia glares daggers at everyone as they walk by her, even Eko, who just gives her a look mixed with betrayal and disappointment. Sayid leads them, still carrying Shannon all on his own. His paces start to increase speed, pulling ahead of everyone else.

"Hey, man, wait for the rest of us," Michael grunts, hoisting Sawyer’s stretcher into a more firm grip once more.

There’s no reply from Sayid. Instead, the man breaks out into a sprint. Surprised, Jin calls out in Korean.

"Sayid, hey!" Michael’s voice carries after him, but again, Sayid doesn’t even acknowledge him or any of the others.

From the bridal style hold Sayid has on her, Shannon winces and moans from the searing pain. Sayid is running at full speed now, dodging through the drenched forest back towards the camp. His entire lower half is covered in mud, and his hair is soaking wet, but he doesn’t care.

A faint murmur catches his attention in the middle of his determined stride. A whisper coming from Shannon.

"Let me..."

He misses the last part, leaning his head down to listen closer.

"Let me die. Let me die," she repeats, like a broken record, "worthless..."

Even through the rain, he can make out the mark of a few tears rolling down Shannon’s cheek. Sayid’s hands clench tighter around her, and his pace quickens. The faster he runs, the more the rain seems to let up, the downpour beginning to dissipate.

"You were never worthless," he tells her, cradling her nearly limp head gently, "just hold on a little longer, you’re going to be okay."

~

The skies are clear now. The survivors on the beach are busy tending to the campsite. In her canopy tent, Claire rocks Aaron in her arms. The little baby coos and wiggles his limbs while Claire smiles and murmurs unintelligibly back at him.

"How has he been sleeping?"

Claire looks up to see Sun approaching her. She shrugs and tilts her head back and forth. "It’s a bit of a slippery slope, you could say. Aaron’s got his good days, and most definitely his bad ones, isn’t that right, yeah?" she says the last part in a softer, baby talk voice.

Sun chuckles at the answer. "I understand. Would you say it’s, err, manageable?"

"Hm? Oh, of course. I know there are people out there who say they can’t stand the sound of a baby crying."

"Like Sawyer?"

Claire stifles a bigger laugh. "Exactly like Sawyer. But there’s just, I dunno, something different when it’s your own baby. I didn’t even plan to get pregnant, or keep him after I gave birth. Obviously my plans changed."

She uses one arm to make circular motions in the air, gesturing to the island as a whole. Sun nods in understanding.

"But I’m glad they did. Giving up Aaron would’ve probably been the biggest mistake of my life. So even if we’re stranded here, I’m okay, because I’ve got the most important thing in the world to me right here in my arms."

"That’s beautiful," Sun says, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She watches Aaron grab Claire’s pinkie with his entire hand, which only makes her smile more.

"Are you nervous?"

She shakes her head. "Not at all, actually. In fact, I’m ready. Before we crashed here, I was told that Jin was, well, that it would be impossible for us to have a child. But then we landed here, and now I’m pregnant with my husband’s baby."

"I’m sure you wish he was here to see them be born."

"A little. But if he’s somewhere safe off this island, getting us help, then it’s alright."

The sound of crashing ocean waves takes over the other sounds. Past that, though, Claire zeroes in on a much fainter sound. "You hear that?"

"Huh?"

"Listen."

Sun goes quiet again. Even Aaron remains silent, listening for it again.

"Jack!"

Both women look at each other, then across the beach, across the campsite.

"Is that someone calling for Jack?"

Before Claire could form a response, Kate comes jogging out from the treeline behind the camp. "Hey, guys, did you hear someone yelling just now?"

"Yeah," Claire confirms with a head nod, "sounded like Sayid to me."

Kate raises an eyebrow at this. "Didn’t he go off with Shannon earlier?"

Her question doesn’t remain unanswered for very long. From across the camp, the three women watch as Sayid comes around a set of thick bushes, carrying something in his arms.

No, some one . All three of their hearts drop to their feet.

"Holy shit," Kate breathes out, right before she breaks out into a run in his direction. Sun is right behind her, while Claire gently lowers Aaron into his little crib, then bolts after them as well.

Sayid storms into the beach camp, Shannon writhing in his arms. "Jack! Where’s Jack? Jack! "

"Shannon, oh my God, what happened?" Kate asks, running up to him.

"We need Jack, where is he?"

"He’s at the hatch with Locke, I can take you."

"No, she doesn’t have enough time to make it there, we need Jack to come back to the beach now ."

"Shit, okay, I’ll— I’ll get him, just hang on!"

And just like that, Kate turns on her heel and sprints full force back into the trees, headed for the Swan hatch. He stumbles farther into camp, which gathers the attention of the other survivors, with Sun, Claire, and Charlie racing up.

"What happened to her?" Sun asks, in shock.

"She was shot."

"By who?"

A brief pause. "It doesn’t matter."

"Bloody hell," Charlie groans at the sight, "here, come lie her down here." He guides Sayid’s wobbling form over to the kitchen area, where there’s a flat table large enough. With the help of Charlie and Sun, Shannon is laid gently down flat onto the table.

"What can we do?" Claire chimes in, hands wringing together.

"Get water, clean bandages, anything to stop bleeding, and something to pull out a bullet. It’s still inside her."

"Son of a bitch," Charlie mumbles, but tears off in a flash to find anything he can, as do many of the others gathered around.

Sun walks around to Shannon’s other side. "Let me help, I’ve got some experience from— from Boone."

There’s no reply for a few seconds. Sayid instead nods and steps back to allow Sun to assess Shannon. She rips open the bottom of her shirt, and takes note of the gauze pressed over the wound temporarily. She looks back at Sayid, confused.

"We had to stop the bleeding."

Sun simply shakes off the cryptic answer. "Is the bullet still inside her?"

"Yes. Yes," he answers, voice trembling harder than a winter breeze, "is she going to die?"

"Not if we can get it out quick and stitch the wound."

"Are you able to do that?"

"I— I think I can get the bullet out, but I don’t have any experience in stitches."

Sayid rubs a hand down his face. "We can’t wait for Jack. Please, Sun, at least get the bullet out. She can’t go on much longer like this."

From the table, Shannon coughs, squirms, and heaves in several labored breaths. Sayid runs his hands through her hair to soothe her. Sun eyes up the injured young woman, until she finally gives a nod.

"Okay, I’ll do it. Jack left a smaller set of medical supplies here at the beach, but took his main supply to the hatch. Hopefully he brings it when Kate gets him," she says, then quickly sprints off to her and Jin’s tent to grab it.

No sooner does she run off, Claire and Charlie come running back, the former carrying a large bottle of water, and the latter with some towels.

"Here, I’ve got some water for her," Claire says while handing off the bottle to him. Charlie sets down the towels beside him and stares anxiously at Shannon.

Sayid grabs the water hastily. "Thank you," he says with a quick nod, then moves up to Shannon. She turns her head weakly to look at him.

"Sayid," she rasps.

He’s quick to shush her, but does so gently. "It’s alright. Here, drink some of this."

Gently tipping the bottle, Shannon is able to take a few sips of water. This makes him smile a little. "There you go, that’s it."

"Anything else we can do?" Charlie asks, eyes still darting between the two distressed lovers.

Shannon jerks uncomfortably, more of her blood soaking through the gauze pads. Sayid’s hands clench, until he finally relaxes with a determined look in his eyes.

"Claire, please go see what’s taking Kate so long."

"Of course."

The shorter fellow blonde woman takes off, running the fastest anyone has ever seen from her. The two men watch her leave, and Charlie shrugs once she’s gone. "And me?"

Before he can give a proper answer, Sun is back, carrying the smaller box of medical supplies. "Here we go!"

The box is flung open, and Sun wastes no time in pulling off Shannon’s blood soaked gauze and pressing some new ones down on the wound, eliciting a few small screams from her. Sayid locks eyes with Charlie as she then pulls out what she needs; the forceps.

"I need you to help me hold her down."

Taken aback by this, it takes Charlie a few seconds, but he nods all the same. Sun takes away the new gauze pads again, then grabs the water, pouring a little bit across the wound.

"Sayid," Shannon speaks up again, "Sayid, what— is she doing?"

He leans down over her face, stroking her hair once more. "We’re going to get the bullet out now."

The way her body visibly tenses makes his heart shatter. His other hand trails down her arm until it reaches her hand. His fingers interlock with hers, and he gives her soft, smaller hand a gentle, comforting squeeze. A single runs down her cheek.

"I’m— I’m scared. Sayid, I’m—"

"I know. But you’re going to be alright. That’s a promise," he assures her, pausing before he can say something else, although the words don’t stay down for long, "I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you like I’m supposed to."

If not for the bullet in her abdomen, Shannon would’ve laughed. She manages a small, shaky smile, and squeezes his hand back. "You’re—" she gasps for a deep breath, voice coming out just above a whisper, "you’re not the one who ran off chasing some ghost. You— tried to tell me that Walt wasn’t there, but I didn’t want to listen."

"Stop it, Shannon. You told me about the bottle of messages. You were right."

She just stares straight up at the overhanging canopy above her head. "I don’t think this was worth being right."

Their conversation is interrupted by a gentle interjection from Sun. "It’s time. I’m about to go in."

Sayid gives her one final supportive hand squeeze. "Be brave."

"You, too."

He looks over at Charlie, who silently gets the memo, and grabs onto Shannon’s opposite side, nearly mirroring Sayid. "You’ve got this, blondie."

The two of them look at Sun, who remains steady over Shannon’s gunshot wound, forceps in hand. "I’ll begin on three. Is that alright, Shannon?"

" Yes. Yes ."

"Okay."

Charlie tenses his grip on her side. " One."

Sayid holds his gaze on Shannon. " Two."

Sun sucks in a slow, deep breath. Both Charlie and Sayid give her a nod.

" Three."

The forceps enter the bullet hole. Shannon screams at the top of her lungs.

Chapter Text

Almost three weeks ago, Shannon stomps through the sand. Her vision is tunneled onto one thing and one thing only; Boone. He’s stuffing things into a backpack, with his back to her. She stops several feet away, her lip almost letting a quiver slip.

“Hey.”

Boone’s head jerks up sharply at the loud, accusatory voice. He swivels to meet his step-sister’s piercing gaze. “What is it, now, Shannon?”

“Who the hell do you think you are to come between me and Sayid?”

He rolls his eyes, and follows up with a drawn out sigh. “Seriously? You mean to tell me that in the two months we’ve been here, you’re already so in love with him?”

“At least he doesn’t treat me like I’m a burden.” Her words were venom, ice cold venom.

“I don’t treat you like—“

“Yes you do! Don’t you dare try and deny it. I am so sick of you, thinking that you get to just decide who I am, or what I’m capable of. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

The outburst attracts the attention of some of the beach campers, and Boone shifts uncomfortably in the sand. “Shan, I gotta go, Locke and I are going out hunting again, and—“

“Right, and you’re going to go off and pretend like I don’t exist again, like you always do,” Shannon goes on, and she steps closer in between words, “I’m done, Boone. Enough is enough. I have taken your bullshit for years, your mother’s bullshit for years.”

“What are you trying to say?”

She closes the rest of the distance between them, now only a few inches between their faces. Her expression has not once changed, the look of anger, bottled up for the longest time, all spilling over. There isn’t anything left for Boone in her eyes. Only the festering hatred.

“Your buddy Locke told me to just let it go, to not give you the attention you wanted. I'm done sitting here and letting you feel like you’ve won. You stay away from Sayid, and you stay away from me . I don’t want you in my life anymore. As far as I’m concerned, you’re dead to me.”

Sand kicks up when she turns around and storms off back the way she came. Boone is left in silence, aghast and emotionless. While walking back in the direction of her tent, a few idle tears slip down her face, nose reddening from the overwhelming emotions brewing. Yet, despite that, she feels free. She is free.

~

Shannon sits up with a sharp gasp. Pain shoots up her body a second later, and once her brain catches up, she quickly relaxes herself back down on the cushioned surface she’s lying flat on. Wait. Cushion? Where’s the beach? Where is she?

Slower this time, she pushes herself up. She winces at the smaller bursts of pain, but manages to prop herself into a somewhat sitting position. She’s in some kind of room, definitely not at the beach camp, the last place she remembers being. From her vantage point, she can see what looks like a kitchen island in the middle of a larger main room just past the threshold.

“Sa—“ her throat pricks at her voice like needles. It’s dry and hoarse and makes her cough several times. Weakly, she manages to grab onto the side wall and systematically hoist herself up off of the cushy surface. “Sayid?”

Her call echoes through the quiet rooms with no reply. Holding back a pained whine, she forces her jelly-adjacent legs to stand. With her hand still married to the wall, Shannon stumbles forwards. “Hello…?”

“Let’s get you back in bed.”

“Wh… Whatever you say, Freckles.”

“Wh— Who…?”

From one of the connecting hallways in this strange building, Kate walks into view, a limply following Sawyer in tow with his arm around her shoulder. Shannon squints, her slightly blurred vision noting a bandage over the man’s shoulder. Her hand travels to her abdomen, feeling a similar texture.

Kate’s eyes shift to a gaze of soft surprise at the sight of her. “Shannon, what are you doing up?”

“Kate? What— Where—?”

“Guys, she’s awake!” Kate shouts while passing Shannon to drop Sawyer onto a similar resting surface nestled against the wall perpendicular to hers.

A pair of footsteps echo down the hall, until the wincing Shannon sees Sayid and Jack come into view. In seconds, the warm, familiar embrace of the man she loves surrounds her. “You’re okay, thank God.”

“Sayid, what happened? Where are we, what’s going on? I don’t—“

The questions come out with no hesitation, pure desperation. She’s afraid.

“Lie her down,” Jack’s voice echoes in her ears while she’s brought back to the cushioned seat she had been lying on. Her abdomen feels like it’s on fire, but the sight of Sayid above her as she stares up at the ceiling almost placates the inferno in her gut. Jack peels back the bandages to look at the wound. “Sun did a good job getting the bullet out, and her temporary stitching before we got her down here definitely saved her life. She would’ve bled out otherwise.”

Sayid can’t help but well up in tears, stroking Shannon’s pale cheek. His eyes meet her glassy ones with such love and care. A pained smile emerges victorious over the tears pricking his eyes. “You’re safe, Shannon. You’re safe.”

“What is this place?” she asks, eyes transfixed on every little detail she spots in the room.

“Just relax, lie down. You could rip your stitching,” Sayid gently insists. He puts a hand on her shoulder to prevent her from sitting up again. She squirms a little with a grimace, obviously unable to overpower him. Finally she gives in, her body relaxing as Jack tenderly checks the stitches and bandaging.

“Where is he?” she asks. Everyone except Sayid looks at her in confusion. Sayid goes quiet and he avoids looking at the others, but Shannon is insistent. “Sayid, where is he?”

“What’s she talking about?” Kate asks.

“I saw him. I saw him , right before—“ Shannon continues, and her teeth clench the more she goes on, “you saw him, too. He’s still out there, he’s…”

Her head rolls to the side, vision blurred. Her words slowly die out as well, becoming murmurs of nothingness and finally silence. Sayid, in a panic, turns to Jack, who touches her forehead and nods. “She just passed out. Whatever got her so worked up is too much for her right now.”

“Yeah, what was she saying? Who’s still out there?” Kate repeats.

Sayid shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh, come on, Sayid. Don’t do this.”

“Sayid,” Jack starts, “if there’s something wrong with Shannon, you have to let me know so I can help.”

“Both of you were gone for hours, we were starting to get worried,” Kate adds from Sawyer’s bedside, his unconscious state matching that of Shannon’s.

Sayid’s fingers gently play with a lock of Shannon’s blonde hair. Jack and Kate exchange a look while the latter of the two presses the matter. “She said that you saw it, too. What happened to you out there?”

Finally, Sayid stands up, but his eyes don’t move from Shannon’s body. Her chest is rising and falling steadily, which puts him at ease. He sharply turns to the duo behind him, who are now also on their feet, and both flinch back slightly at his abruptness.

“I think it’s better if we talked elsewhere about this.”

~

Shannon stands in the hatch. Her stomach is miraculously unharmed, something she observes when she looks down and sees no wound in her gut. She looks up again, only to be face to face with a soaking wet Walt standing by the kitchen island. She gasps.

"Walt. When did you get here? What happened to you?"

He opens his mouth to speak, but just like all the other times, his voice comes out whispered and distorted. Shannon tries to step closer, but when she does, Walt is gone from where he had just been standing. She hears the same whispers behind her and whirls around. Now Walt is standing beside Ana Lucia, who is holding a gun in her hand, but staring ahead soullessly.

"What's going on? I don't understand!" She shouts at him. Walt's gaze burns holes through her while water cascades down him.

"Kcors no eht hcaeb. Kool rof eht eno hitw a egral eloh. Od ton tsurt eht nam taht semoc morf eht noollab. Dnif em."

Ana Lucia suddenly raises her gun and fires. Shannon screams as the bullet hits her square in the chest.

Shannon jerks upright again with a sharp inhaled gasp. Her forehead is sweating a bit, and her abdomen pulsates with bad cramps. For a second, her memory lags, until the moment plays again like it’s all happening again for the first time. The pouring rain, the yells, the gunshot, the searing hot pain .

“Well, good morning to you, too, Sticks.”

Shannon turns her head, spotting Sawyer propped up nearby, a bandage over his shoulder with some dried blood. She can see the similar pain in his face, however he continues to sport his usual smug grin.

“How long was I asleep?” she asks. She runs her hands up her body, lightly feeling the bandage over her abdomen and wincing when she accidentally touches a little too rough, sending a jolt of pain through her limbs.

“Can’t say for sure, ‘bout 18 hours, most likely. Least that’s what the doc said when he was in here last.”

“When was that?”

“Oh, ‘bout a half hour ago? Freckles comes by a lot more often. Same with your favorite little Iraqi.”

Sayid. Where is Sayid? Him not being there is almost enough to be painful on its own. With a small grunt, Shannon swings her legs off the cushion. She grips the material and uses it to push herself up. She clutches her stomach carefully while wobbling on her feet.

“Jeez take it easy, Sticks—“

“Ngh… stop calling me that!”

“Sure thing, Shannon , now settle down before you rip your stitches!”

“Hello? Sayid?”

“Damn it, you’re gonna fall down if you’re not careful!” Sawyer chides bitterly, as if he hates himself for even caring.

“Shut up!” Shannon blurts as footsteps echo hurriedly from outside the room. Sayid runs up just as she pulls herself into the doorway in time to sag into his strong arms. This time, she’s lucid enough to properly get her bearings in his arms.

“Shannon, you really shouldn’t be–!”

“What is this place? Where are we?” she asks softly. The kitchen island in the middle of the room with several hallways leading to God knows where else is nothing like anything she’d seen in the last 49 days. It doesn’t even feel like she’s on the island anymore.

Before Sayid can properly reply, they both look over at two figures who walk into the main area; Locke, and trailing behind him is the tall man with the tail section group of survivors.

“This is the hatch,” Locke states like it should be common knowledge.

“Huh?” Shannon can hardly comprehend what his vague and rather unhelpful explanation means as Sayid helps her to a seat at a booth-like table.

“This is the place that Locke and your brother found. We were going to use it to hide from the Others, but it seems that they discovered a lot more down here than originally suspected.”

“The man who was down here didn’t tell us much before running off.”

Shannon narrows her eyes. “There was a man down here?”

“We’re not sure where he went, but yes. I promise I’ll explain more later.” Sayid keeps his arms gently around Shannon’s shoulders, helping her stay upright and not wobble too much, lest the pain cause her to collapse.

Shannon looks past Sayid and Locke to set her eyes on Eko, who stares back. He seems to want to talk, but instead his mouth hangs slightly open, as though the words are fighting to come out. She suddenly glares at him, then takes a hefty step forward.

“Where is she?”

“Whoa, Shannon, don’t strain yourself.”

“Where is she?” She yells, then groans and doubles over, which prompts Sayid to sweep her off her feet right when Jack comes sprinting over to help get her back on the cushions in the other room.

“Shannon, please calm down.”

“Ana Lucia is on the beach,” Eko finally answers, “she is speaking with your friends.”

“Speaking about what? Who she’s going to shoot next?” Her raving is only quelled when Jack begins shining a pen light in her eyes, making her blink from not expecting it. “What are you doing?”

“Checking your pupils.”

“What for? I didn’t hit my head or anything.”

Jack stops and sighs. He clicks off the light as Sayid stands behind him, arms crossed and looking at her sympathetically. Shannon notices his soft gaze and the odd guilt behind his eyes, and it clicks in her mind.

“You've got to be kidding me…”

“He told me you saw Walt in the jungle. That you chased after him and that’s how you got shot by Ana. But the thing is Michael told us Walt was taken off the raft days ago, the same night Rousseau kidnapped Claire’s baby.”

Shannon kept her gaze calm, but she could feel her fingertips tingling. “I saw Walt.”

“Shannon, you haven’t been sleeping well this past week.”

“I saw Walt!” she repeats.

“Stress, anxiety, and sleep deprivation can sometimes cause–”

“Sayid saw him. He looked me in the eyes and told me he saw him, too!”

Jack stops and looks back at Sayid, wordlessly asking for backup. Sayid opens his mouth. He can see Shannon’s shoulders trembling. Rage simmers under her skin. The rage of a girl gone unheard. His shoulders slump.

“It was a stressful situation…”

“ Sayid! ” The pain in her voice breaks his heart. Why is he saying this? Does he really think this?

“I don’t really know what I saw.”

A tear slips down her face. This can’t be happening, not again. Jack tries to touch the bandage over her wound, but she shoves his hand away. When he tries again, she repeats the action and breathes fire in his direction using only her eyes.

“Shannon, I have to change your dressing.”

“Go away. Get out. I want to be alone.”

Jack pauses, then nods. “Okay. I’ll be back in an hour.”

He walks out, giving Sayid a lightly exasperated glance at the same time. Locke and Eko watch silently. Eko looks at Locke, who seems a little bewildered by the emotional reaction.

“It’s good she survived. I’d hate for us to have come together under worse circumstances.”

“Agreed,” Eko says, then pauses in thought, “do you believe what she says? That she saw the boy?”

Locke is quiet. He ponders the question for several seconds. “I’d like to believe so, yes. But I shouldn’t get involved. Not yet. She wouldn’t want to hear from me.”

“Why not?”

He sighs heavily. “Her brother is dead because of me.”

Inside the room, Sayid tries to sit down beside her, but Shannon looks at him the same way she looked at Jack moments earlier, except this time her eyes are shinier and wetter, and there’s a steady trail of tears rolling all the way down her face.

“I said I wanted to be alone.” Her tone is noticeably softer, but she’s dead serious. Sayid’s face falls, but he can only nod quietly.

“I… will come visit you later, to see how you’re doing.” He stands up and moves to the door to leave. Once he’s in the doorway, he pauses when he hears her speak one last time.

“I thought you believed me…”

He so badly wants to turn around, to tell her that he does, that he always will. But he can’t. His own eyes showed him something that couldn’t be physically possible. How was it? How did Shannon so easily trust herself? Why did she make it look so easy?

“It’s myself I don’t believe,” he says without turning around, then walks away.

Once he’s gone, Shannon finally screws her eyes shut and cries to herself. She slides down off the cushion and onto the floor to bury her face in her knees that she tucks up close to her chest. Her gunshot wound aches, but she doesn’t care. Finally, her cries go from silent to past the point of no return as she lets out a sob, one that’s been held in the last seven days.

She misses Boone. She can’t help it. No matter how awful he could be, it was as if she matched his energy. They fed off of each other in some of the worst ways, but he had been her brother, and she loved him that way. She thinks about her father, and what he might say if he were here now. Her abdomen burns, but she doesn’t care. All she wants to do is cry.

Walking past the computer room, Sayid isn’t paying attention when he’s accosted by Michael running out after him. He accidentally ignores the man’s first few attempts to call after him before finally reacting when he gently grabs him by the arm. Sayid stops and turns to him.

“Sayid, hey man.”

“Did you need something?”

“I don’t mean to pry into your business, but I, uh… I heard her say Walt’s name.”

“Michael, this isn’t a good time–”

“Sayid, I respect you, I really do. This is my son. They took my son right out of my hands. If you or Shannon know something, anything , I need to hear it. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Sayid takes a long pause while Michae’s eye contact never wavers. He’s also grabbing both of Sayid’s arms a little tight, but he’s willing to forgive him for that. He’s a desperate father. He pulls his arms free and rubs his face in thought, as if trying to find the best way to phrase it.

“When Shannon and I were in the jungle, she…” he swallows hard, “we saw Walt.”

Michael’s entire frame tenses up. “You saw my son? Was he with those people?”

“He was alone. He was looking right at us. He put his hand to his lips as if to tell us to be quiet, and then he walked off deeper into the jungle. Shannon started chasing after him, but he was gone.”

“What?’ Michael says, confused. “That doesn’t make any sense. Maybe he got away from them. I always told him if a stranger tried to grab him to run.”

“Michael, you’re not thinking rationally.”

“Don’t tell me how to think, man!” Michael almost steps forward to get in Sayid’s face, but when he doesn’t back down, he backs off. The look on Sayid’s face is one that ensures no one challenges him. “I’ll talk to Shannon, then.”

“She wants to be left alone right now.”

“Stay out of my way.” Michael goes to push past him, but Sayid roughly grabs his arm and holds him in place.

“She is recovering from a gunshot wound as you very well know. She is in no position to be grilled with questions. I’d recommend waiting until she’s feeling a little better to speak with her.” His grip tightens while Michael grunts in slight pain.

“All right, I get it, man. Let go of me.” Sayid silently obliges him, then looks into the computer room.

“You have 53 minutes until the timer runs out. Did anybody tell you about the code?”

“Yeah, Locke filled me in.”

“Good.” Sayid walks away to the exit without so much as a salutation. Michael looks away just in time for the door to slam behind him. He walks out into the kitchen, and can see Shannon sitting on the floor crying into her knees. He stares at her for several seconds, and his body leans in, but his feet don’t follow.

Instead, with a conflicted shake of his head, he turns back around and goes into the computer room. He sits down at the computer desk. The timer reads 51 and a half minutes now. He looks at the empty computer screen. Nothing but a blinking green square. Experimenting, he types a few keys on the keyboard, but nothing appears. Bored, he looks away, only to turn back when the computer begins to make a whirring sound.

To Michael’s surprise, a single word is now on the screen. The green cursor is now underneath it, indicating the ability to leave a reply to this message. Michael leans in, taken aback by the function that the strange film had implied was strictly forbidden for seemingly good reason. He zeroes in on the screen, on the single word staring back at him.

Hello?

Michael looks at the keyboard and licks his lips. The timer says 50 minutes. Keyboard function shouldn’t be working still, not for another ten minutes. He places his hands on the keyboard and types back.

Hello?

An identical response, testing the waters. The screen sits there, unmoving. Then, a new message.

Who is this?

Michael is far too into it now. He quickly types back, but not before looking over at the doorway to make sure no one came walking in on him.

This is Michael. Who is this?

Again the silence. The timer ticks down second by second as it hits 48 minutes. Michael watches the screen without taking his eyes off of it. Finally, another reply comes. This one makes Michael sit up in his chair and lean toward the screen even more.

Dad?

Chapter Text

The next morning, Shannon moves her body gingerly. She jolts any time there’s a pain that shoots up her back. Her wound bled less overnight, something Jack noted was a good sign. He had told her that it meant that her movements weren’t causing as much strain on the wound and it was already healing somewhat. Jack had also reported that to her luck, the bullet had nicked her stomach lining, but had been easily stitched up the previous night which stopped most of the bleeding internally, and anything else was more surface level from the penetrating wound.

She hauls herself off the cushions, wobbling to the doorframe. She jumps a little when she sees Locke rushing over to her. He slows his pace when he catches a glimpse of her firm expression, but gently extends his hands close to her.

“I’d hate to see you fall and tear your stitches. I just want to help,” he says to her, hands still lingering near her. Shannon says nothing, but reaches out for him. Locke puts one hand around her waist to stabilize her while taking her other hand. He walks her past the washer and dryer, something she would have been ecstatic to see had she not been bleeding out over the past two days.

They enter the common area, and he guides her to the kitchen island where she takes a seat, wincing when a bolt of pain spreads through her torso, then relaxes as it fades. Locke pulls out a box of cereal and a bowl. “I know it’s probably not a breakfast you’re used to. Boone…”

Shannon’s head jerks in his direction. He pauses, then pours the cereal. “Boone made it sound like you came from quite a wealthy upbringing. Forgive me for the stereotypes I crafted in my head, but I always pictured you two eating a fancy omelette for breakfast every morning.”

Locke phrases it like a joke and even chuckles. Shannon can tell he’s just trying to lighten the mood. She takes the cereal and wordlessly shovels a spoonful into her mouth. The crunching is deafening compared to the silence bouncing around the room. She sets down the bowl and looks into the cereal.

“I’m sorry I tried to shoot you.”

“Shannon, you don’t have to apologize–”

“I nearly killed you. I can still see the mark on your head.”

“Can I just say that it was a pretty impressive shot for your first time firing a gun?”

“I’m trying to be serious, here!” she shouts, wincing from the light pain at straining her body to raise her voice.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” she repeats.

“Shannon,” Locke begins, “I may not have killed Boone with my own bare hands. But I was so wrapped up in this hatch, that I withheld the proper information from Jack and Sun, and it caused them to treat his injuries wrong. Instead of being there, I came here and started banging on the door above, like– like it was all about me. I let this place consume me so much that it cost Boone his life, and you the only family you had on this island.”

Shannon takes a couple more bites of cereal, then moves the pieces around in her bowl with the spoon. “You know my dad died, right?”

“Pardon?”

“He got in a bad car accident, about three years ago. They say he died instantly at the scene. After he died, my ste– his wife, Sabrina, she… cut me off. According to her, my dad left me nothing and everything passed to her, including the money. For a while I was living with my best friend, Nora. I got a couple different jobs to try and help make ends meet, but it didn’t last. Then I realized I had a different way to get money. I was young, pretty, and available.”

Locke stiffens. “Is this something I should be hearing…?”

“No, God, nothing like that, Jesus!” Shannon exclaims. Locke sighs in relief, and both of them actually crack small smiles. “I started dating guys, then after a while, I’d call Boone and act like I needed help getting out of the relationship. He paid four different guys almost a hundred grand each just to walk away from me.”

Locke is left without words while Shannon takes a bite and talks with her mouth full. “Me and the guy would split the money halfway and go our separate ways. At least until the last guy, Bryan,” she swallows her bite, “he took all the money and ditched me. I probably went a little too far that time, but I think I got my karma.”

“You shouldn’t say that, Shannon. You didn’t deserve what happened to you.”

“I was awful to Boone. I could’ve been better, and maybe he could’ve been, too.”

“There’s no use adding guilt into what you’re feeling. Jack mentioned even in his final moments he was trying to find you.”

This information leaves Shannon’s chest aching. She wordlessly finishes her cereal bowl, and lets Locke take it from her and rinse it out, then leave it in the sink. “So Boone found this place?”

“We did, yes. I only got it open a couple of days ago, though.”

“Can I see how it works? The computer thingy I heard you guys talking about yesterday,” she asks, now curious.

Locke walks away from the kitchen and over to a sliding door. He rolls it shut and begins fiddling with the combination wheel, using a screwdriver to edit the combination. Before Locke can turn and give her an answer, there’s the sound of the entrance door closing and footsteps approaching. Michael walks into the living area, gazing at Shannon at the table and Locke doing his thing.

“Are you breaking in or out?” he asks in a joking manner.

Locke gives a smile without turning around. “I probably look like one of those old silent movies where a robber tries to break into the vault with a sack over his shoulder with a big money sign. Those were some of my favorites.”

“Hey, you’re not that old,” Shannon jokes from the table, cracking another smile. Her spirits already felt a little bit lifted.

Michael turns around at the sound of her voice. “Hey, Shannon. You, uh, feelin’ okay?”

“As good as I can be. I’m trying to take it easy.”

“Good. That’s good.” Michael nods along as he talks. Shannon can tell there’s something else he wants to ask. It practically is fighting to claw off his tongue, but instead he turns around to Locke again. “Are you resetting the combination?”

“ With the new folks joining us I figure we better limit people's access to the guns. Can't have just anyone who wants one walk in and help themselves,” which I'm guessing is why you're here, Michael.”

Shannon stiffens, but Michael’s face is dead serious. He nods. “Yeah.”

~

Down at the shoreline of the beach, Jin and Charlie are using nets and a homemade fishing pole to try and catch some fish. Further up near the treeline, Ana Lucia sits in the sand. She looks the other way and sees Rose and Bernard sharing breakfast, smiling and simply adoring each other’s presence. There’s the sound of sand rustling, then a body sits down next to her. Ana turns and sees Libby there.

“Hey,” she says softly.

Libby’s face is stern. “You need to get your head on straight.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You shot that girl.”

“Wow, way to kick a girl when she’s down, Libby.”

“But she lived. You didn’t kill anybody, Ana. You’ve been moping around the beach for the last two days like that girl is buried in the ground. She’s not. So stop acting like you are, too.” Libby stands up and walks away as if she’d never even been there to begin with.

A few seconds later, sand kicks up near her, this time Eko storming right past her. She shifts to the right a little as he keeps walking, clearly on a mission. “Going somewhere?”

Eko stops, only just now noticing her. “Sorry, I cannot talk right now. I need to speak with Charlie.”

He doesn’t let her get another sentence in before turning away and continuing to go over to where Jin and Charlie are still standing. Charlie is singing off-key on purpose while trying to use the fishing pole. Jin can be heard very loudly telling Charlie something in Korean and waving him away. Ana watches Eko approach Charlie and hold something up to him, something she’s not invested in.

Finally, she stands up and wipes the sand off of her jeans. When she turns around, Sun is there. The woman’s eyes are calm, in fact her entire face is eerily calm. Ana flinches, but does her best to suppress it. She isn’t sure whether to give a polite wave or simply move around her.

“That girl you shot, her name is Shannon,” Sun suddenly speaks.

“Oh… I…”

“I pulled the bullet out of her. She bled a lot.”

“I didn’t mean– I wasn’t trying to–”

“I don’t mean to give you a guilt trip, and for the record, I don’t hold it against you. Bernard told me that these Others kidnapped your friend. You were frightened and you thought Shannon was another one of them.”

Ana feels like there’s a catch coming, but she slowly nods. “Yeah, I did.”

“Just give everyone time. If they’re uncomfortable around you, I’m sure they will come around.” Ana nods, a little relieved by this, though her body tenses when Sun steps a little closer all of a sudden. “But let me make one thing clear. I do not appreciate my husband being threatened. I personally don’t distrust you, but if you put him in danger again, you’ll have one extra person to worry about.”

Ana grips her hands into balled fists, not out of anger but out of stress. “I understand.”

“Good. Now do you want something to eat or are you too busy staring at the ocean?”

~

Shannon has a stack of playing cards on the floor of the hatch bedroom. Quietly, she plays solitaire. The only card game to be played completely alone. From afar, she hears the hatch door opening and shutting, and the voices of Michael and Locke talking. She hears Locke walk away as Michael offers to stay for the computer shift that would’ve been Kate’s. A moment later, Michael comes back into her view. The two briefly make eye contact.

At first, Michael looks away and shuffles away, before stopping and marching straight toward her. He stands in the doorway, hands stuffed in his pockets while his entire body sways. Shannon sets down a five of hearts down on top of a black six of spades, then looks up at him.

“How did it go out there, you know, Locke, guns, shooting stuff?”

“Good. Yeah, it went well. He showed me a lot of good pointers.”

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but I know you didn’t walk all the way in here just to check on me.”

Michael rubs his face. The conflict visible in his eyes finally melts as he crouches down next to her. “Sayid said you saw something out in the jungle. Saw my son.”

Shannon looks up at him while letting the cards get strewn about when she drops her arms, a little annoyed. “Let me guess, you’re here to tell me I’m making it up, too.”

“What? No, I want you to tell me what exactly you saw. Down to the last detail.”

There’s a flash of confusion behind Shannon’s eyes. Confusion over somebody taking her seriously and not doubting her. “Are… Are you sure?”

“Pretty damn sure.” He sits down on the bed next to her. “Please, tell me everything.”

~

Hours later, Sayid comes down to the hatch with something clasped in his hand. He walks past the computer room, where he can see Michael sitting at the desk. His eyes are glued on the screen, which Sayid finds a little odd for a screen that would be empty right about now. Instead, he walks to the bedroom, where he can see Shannon lying on the bed. He stops just outside the doorway and looks at her. Her eyes are closed, possibly asleep.

“I can hear you.” Not sleeping. Shannon opens her eyes and slowly pushes herself up.

“Shannon, I…”

“What do you want?” her tone isn’t angry, but it isn’t the most inviting.

“I came here to apologize.” This gets her attention. “I told you I believed you, but then I broke your trust by not supporting you. I do believe you. It was myself I didn’t believe. I’m not asking you to forgive me, but I hope you can.”

His words leave Shannon sitting on the bed in total silence. Her legs feel warm and a little tingly. She notices Sayid turning around. “Don’t go.”

He stops and faces her again. She tries to stand up, and he rushes over. “No no, don’t stand. I’ll sit with you.”

Sayid sits down next to her. Shannon looks down at his clasped hands, unaware of something inside it. “When you said that, I didn’t know what to feel. I just felt… betrayed. Nobody ever believed me when I said or did something, or wanted to prove myself. But then you did. You believed in me.”

“And I still do. I know I can’t take it back, but I know what you saw was real. I was wrong to doubt it, and doubt you. I guess I just had no idea what it meant. I still don’t.”

“I’m going to be honest. Neither do I. All I can think of is that it means Walt is in danger, and that somehow he’s trying to reach us for help, or maybe this freaky island is doing it for him. I don’t know why he reached out to me, but if getting shot means I’m any closer to rescuing Walt, then shoot me again.”

“Shannon!”

She can’t help but bust out a small laugh at his dramatic reaction. Sayid goes from shocked to smiling fondly. “I’ve missed your smile.”

“I’ve missed you, too. Come here and kiss me, already.” He doesn’t have to be told twice, and immediately brings his lips to hers, cupping her face while slowly kissing her deeply.

The kiss lasts at least ten good seconds. Ten seconds that both of them wish to just loop and loop all over again. When they finally part, Sayid holds up one hand clamped shut. “I brought you something.”

“What is it? It better not be a diamond ring, I’m not ready to be married again.”

Sayid opens his hands, and Shannon starts laughing again with a large grin. Her inhaler sits in his palm. She takes it and looks it over. “Where did you find it?”

“Just outside the caves. Nestled in some leaves, it seems you or Boone might’ve dropped it weeks ago.”

“Thank you, Sayid.”

“And that’s not all.” He turns and gives a little whistle, and a second later, in trots Vincent, whose footsteps instantly gain a little extra bounce when he sees Shannon. She lets out a happy cry as the dog runs right up to her and hops up to start licking her hands and face.

“Oh, Vincent! I’ve missed you so much, have you been a good boy?” Shannon coos, petting and rubbing the fluffy retriever’s head and neck. Vincent pants in a way where it appears that he’s smiling while looking into Shannon’s eyes.

Sayid stands up off the bed and faces her. Vincent moves off and wanders out of the bedroom. Sayid offers his hand to Shannon. She looks confused, but he just smiles. “Come with me, there’s others waiting.”

She hesitates, but then takes his hand.

~

Minutes later, walking as carefully as can be, Sayid walks from the jungle up along the beach headed toward the beach camp. Claire is the first to notice, calling to the others as Vincent comes running as well. Several people flock close to Shannon. Sun approaches and gives her a gentle hug. Rose is there and takes her hand, while Bernard politely shakes her other one to introduce himself. Shannon sees Sawyer standing nearby while Kate hands him a fruit. He gives her a curt nod of the head, pleased to see her out and about.

Libby brings Shannon over to where some of the food from the hatch had been organized into a shelf system. She starts grabbing some things to make for her as she sits down. Shannon notices Charlie approaching with a smile, but then pausing. Claire, who is on her opposite side to Sayid, strikes a glare at Charlie before her demeanor shifts back to bubbly and pleased to see her. Shannon watches Charlie turn and shuffle away.

“Hey, what’s going on with you and Charlie?” she asks.

Claire shrugs as if it’s no big deal to her. “Charlie lied to me. So for now I think it’s best we just stay out of each other’s way.”

Shannon nods. “Fair enough.”

On the other side of the camp, Ana tries to make a small fire for herself. She gets a small flame going, though it doesn’t appear to be much. Despite the minor victory, she remains displeased. Her attention is only diverted upward when she looks up to see Sun and Jin approaching her. At first she’s apprehensive, until they stop, and Jin holds out a fish.

He addresses her and extends it further, speaking to her and insisting she take it from him. “For you,” he concludes.

“I meant what I said earlier,” Sun adds, “you’re part of our camp now. We survive by sticking together.” She takes the fish from Jin and sets it down on the blanket she has laying on the sand.

“Thank you both,” Ana says, smiling at Jin, “I really appreciate it. And I’m sorry for, you know, everything. The pit, the gun… yeah.”

Jin seems to somewhat understand what she says, at least the "I'm sorry" portion of it. He speaks again and even gives her a small head nod to show some respect. Sun notices this and as he walks away, she lingers for a moment. “My husband can be a very forgiving man.”

“I’m grateful.”

Sun turns to leave, when Ana stands up from her fire. “I’m going to apologize to that girl. Shannon, I’m going to apologize to Shannon.”

Sun doesn’t say anything in response. She also doesn’t turn around, either. Ana puts a hand on her stomach, looking down at it, then back up. “I guess I’m just working up the nerve to face her.”

“You might want to do it soon, then, for your sake. From what I’ve seen, a late apology is almost as bad as none at all.” Only then does she walk away. Once again Ana is left alone with her thoughts, and that pit in her stomach that she felt the morning after that night in the bar parking lot, putting six bullets into her unborn child’s killer.

This time it feels worse. Much worse.

Chapter Text

Shannon finds herself in the hatch. Everything is dimly lit. She walks into the computer room. Her footsteps echo, which makes her continuously look over her shoulder. The lack of any other sound at all unnerves her greatly.

“Hello?” she calls out. No reply. She looks up at the timer. There’s thirty seconds on the clock. Where’s the alarm? Panicked, she rushes to the computer and tries to type. All of the keys are blank and nothing comes up when she presses any of them, not even the blinking green cursor. “What the? No, no, no!”

“Shannon.”

She jerks upright with a sharp gasp. Walt is standing there in the doorway. His face wears a blank expression, but there’s something in his eyes. She takes a step closer to him and notices the way his chest inhales sharply. Her arms chill. It’s fear.

“Walt?” she says softly. “What’s going on?”

“They’re not who they say they are. Don’t believe them,” Walt says to her, his head shaking like it’s on a predetermined swivel.

“Who? Who isn't?” Shannon tries to ask, only the room begins to rumble. She looks up again after briefly losing her footing to see Walt backing out of the room. “Walt, wait, don’t go!”

The alarm for the timer begins to blare. It sounds so loud that Shannon almost can’t hear Walt yelling at the top of his lungs. “Down by the beach, a rock with a big hole in the middle. Remember it. Remember it, Shannon!”

“Walt!”

“Remember!”

In a blinding flash, Walt is gone, and in his place stands a large man with a beard and a sickening smile on his face. She recoils in fear at his sudden presence. He stares directly at her, before suddenly vanishing in another blinding flash, accompanied by an echoed scream from Walt.

With a greedy inhale, Shannon wakes up. She holds her hands near her neck as she shoots upright in the bottom bunk. Her hands slowly slide down to her abdomen from the sudden strain. Above her, Jack’s head peers over. “Shannon, you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just had a weird dream.”

Jack chuckles a little. “Me, too.”

Shannon slowly swings her legs to the side, dangling off the bed. “Wasn’t Locke supposed to change shifts with you by now?”

Jack gets out of the bunk bed and climbs down. “Yeah, you’re right.” He turns to face the doorway and raises his voice. “Locke?”

“Help me up, I’ll look for him with you.”

“Shannon, you still need bed rest.”

“I’ve been feeling better, seriously. Help me up.”

Begrudgingly, Jack does so. He lets her take a few test steps on her own, which she does with a little strain and methodical balance, but otherwise she maintains her own balance. He can’t help but smile a little.

“Glad you’re making such a quick recovery,” he remarks. He walks out first, Shannon going slowly behind him. Jack calls out for Locke a few times while walking toward the computer room.

Meanwhile, Shannon shuffles into the living area. She uses the kitchen island for support so that she doesn’t trip and fall over. Jack’s voice echoes again in the hallway. He wanders back into the living area just as Shannon hears a faint moan. She peers around the island and sees into the armory, which is wide open. On the floor is Locke, motionless and eyes shut. Shannon’s blood runs cold.

“Jack!”

He runs over, and she points to the armory. Jack’s jaw clenches and he races to his side, Shannon limping behind. Jack shakes Locke by the shoulder and feels his neck for a pulse.

“John. John, can you hear me?”

“Is he okay?” Shannon asks as she finally reaches the doorway.

“He’s just out, I don’t know how–” the sound of a gun cocking behind both of them makes Shannon freeze, and Jack looks up in surprise. Michael stands there, rifle pointed at both of them. He tries to stand up to confront him, but Michael juts the rifle forward.

“Stay in there,” he commands.

“Michael, what are you–?”

“I said stay in there, Jack!” He takes the rifle and suddenly presses it into Shannon’s back. She flinches hard and gasps for air.

“What are you doing? Le… Let go of me,” Shannon says, keeping her voice as low and collected as she can, but she can’t fight the tremble already surfacing. There’s a gun pressed to her back.

“Michael, don’t do this,” Jack says.

“Look, I’m going after my son. I’m going after him, and I need her. She’s been seeing him, she knows where he is. She said he’s been telling her things!”

A tear slips down Shannon’s cheek. “No, no, I don’t, I– I don’t know what they mean–”

“Yes, you do! I know you do. I need you, Shannon, I need your help. Please,” Michael begs her. His eyes show desperation while the gun remains firmly planted against her.

“Michael, you need to let her go,” Jack tries to coax him calmly.

“Stay in the damn room!” he shouts, making Shannon let out a sob as he grabs her arm to make sure she doesn’t pull away.

“What, are you gonna shoot her, Michael?”

“No, but she’s coming with me. I need her, I’m sorry. I’ll shoot your damn computer if I have to.”

“Jack, Jack please–!” Shannon cries.

“Shannon, it’s okay. Michael, let’s just talk about this. I can come with you, I can help you.”

Michael stares him down hard, then shakes his head. Shannon trembles in his grip. She can feel the muzzle digging into her spine while she cries. “No, you can’t, Jack. I have to do this. I have to do this myself.”

Without so much as a goodbye, Michael slams the armory vault shut on Jack and the still unconscious Locke. He begins shuffling toward the exit, still keeping the gun on Shannon as she sobs and struggles weakly.

“Sayid! Sayid, help me! Sayid, please!” she screams, but there’s nobody. No one would be coming for the next four hours, Locke had told both her and Jack earlier. She’s alone, there’s nobody to help her.

“I’m sorry, Shannon. I’m sorry, but you have to come with me. I can’t do this without you,” Michael tells her. His tone is clearly apologetic, a drastic softening from what he did seconds earlier, but that does nothing to ease her fear. They push out the main doors and into the jungle. Michael decides on a way to travel and nudges Shannon along. She lets out a split second scream, right before he covers her mouth. Keeping her quiet, Michael moves both of them along into the jungle, disappearing from the area.

~

Shannon can’t tell how long they’ve been walking. An hour, maybe two? Michael hasn’t said a word since they left the hatch. He also hasn’t pointed the gun at her since then, either. Her abdomen aches, and her hand clutches around it with a soft groan. Michael looks over at her, and his brow furrows.

“That, uh, how’s that feeling?”

“What, like you care?” she snaps.

“I do.”

“You’ve got a real funny way of showing it.” He doesn’t reply. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“We’re heading north, looking for a camp near the water.”

Shannon stiffens. “A rock with a hole in the middle.”

“So you do know where we’re going.”

“I had a dream earlier where Walt told me. Half the time I don’t know what to make of what he says, and yet you decided it was worth shoving a gun in my face!”

“Look, I’m sorry. I really wasn’t going to shoot you, I hope you know that. I just had to make sure Jack would let us leave.”

“So you don’t mind if I just turn and make a run for it, then?”

The two of them enter a clearing where the sun shines down on them. The grass is tall, almost up to their waist in most areas. Michael scoffs a little. “Please. You wouldn’t get fifty feet before collapsing.”

Shannon grits her teeth. He’s right, and she hates it. She has no other choice but to keep moving forward. After a moment, Michael stops to check his compass. Shannon watches, apprehensive, as he checks the direction they’re heading; still north. She eyes the gun strapped to his back, and for a second, just a second, she imagines grabbing it and knocking it free. That, or taking it for herself and shooting it. She’s a good shot, a decent one, Locke said so. But could she bring herself to actually shoot? That’s the real question, and unfortunately in her mind, the answer is no. She did shoot at Locke and graze him, but she hadn’t been thinking clearly. Now she is, and she knows she can’t. Not even if they deserve it.

Michael suddenly tenses up, and Shannon follows his gaze. Several feet away, there’s a man with his back to them both. He appears to be urinating, something Shannon slightly grimaces over. No class at all, peeing in the grass out in the open like that. Disgusting. Michael takes the gun off his shoulder and raises it at this mysterious and quite disheveled looking man.

“Hey!” Michael yells, startling her. The man slowly turns around and raises his hands at the sight of the rifle. “Put your hands up. Don’t move!”

The man’s eyes flick from Michael to Shannon, who stands behind him warily. They narrow ever so slightly, like the gears in his head are turning. Had he been expecting Michael? Maybe just Michael? Regardless, he shrugs with his hands in the air, almost nonchalant.

“Relax, buddy, I ain’t movin’,” he says, “why don’t you just put that down?”

“Shut up!”

“What did you do with him?” Both Michael and the man look at Shannon, surprised she’s even speaking up.

“Pardon me, young lady?”

“You heard me. What did you do with him?”

Instead of answering, the man does a subtle nodding gesture. Both turn around, only to be met with a large bearded man. Shannon gasps in both fear and recognition as he wrestles Michael’s rifle from him, shooting once up in the air on accident. This is the man she saw in her dream earlier. The man Walt showed her. The rifle is chucked to the ground, and Michael takes off running, pulling out a pistol and shooting blindly.

“Michael!” Shannon cries out, stumbling backward as he leaves her behind. The man they first encountered pulls out a gun of his own and shoots at Michael, but the bearded one shoves his hand down.

“Don’t, we need him!”

Shannon turns and starts to run. Almost instantly, red hot fiery pain spreads throughout her torso. She screams and falls to the ground, doubled over and holding her stomach. She hears something fly through the air, then Michael cries out with a resounding thud several feet away. The first man walks over to her and looms above her.

“Didn’t expect anyone to be with him. Don’t recognize her. Poor thing’s already been shot.” He pulls out his gun again and cocks it. Shannon’s entire body electrifies, and she starts writhing in the grass to pull herself away. “What do you think, should we put her out of her misery?”

“Damn it, Pickett, leave her alone!” the bearded man scolds him. “Go bag him, and quickly, we need to move. Their friends are right behind us. I’ll take care of her.”

The crass man, Pickett as he’d been called, moves off, while the bearded man crouches down in front of her with that same exact smile that terrified her in her dream. “Well, hello, miss. What brings you out this way?”

Shannon clenches her teeth to try and distract from the burning pain in her gut. Is she bleeding again? She can’t tell. God, she hopes not. Though maybe a blood trail would lead Sayid and the others to her. Maybe if her bleeding out meant they got Walt and Michael back safe, it would be worth it. Maybe. She stares up at this man, gaze unwavering.

“You… You’re the one that took him off the raft.”

The man almost seems taken aback. Confused, even. He shakes his head to push away any questions that might’ve been brewing, and just chuckles. “Didn’t know the kid had a friend. Sorry about Danny back there. We’re not gonna hurt you, but you will be coming with us.”

“Don’t touch me.”

“Oh, we’re way past that, darlin’.”

The man reaches into his pocket and pulls out a burlap sack. Shannon tries to struggle away, but it goes over her head quicker than she can react, and everything is dark. She’s alone again. Alone with her own thoughts.

~

Sayid walks into the hatch with a uniquely upbeat bounce to his step. He’d been handling supplies down at the beach, and more than anything wanted to see Shannon’s face after dealing with hungry and irritable survivors. Instead, he hears some quite melancholy music playing on the speakers. He walks into the living area, where Charlie and Hurley are sitting and chatting. He hears Claire’s name thrown around once or twice, but can’t catch the context.

“This music is quite depressing,” he says, announcing his presence to the two men. Their faces change to odd expressions as soon as they see him. Hurley stands up and goes over to the albums on the shelf.

“We can change it, dude. Have you ever heard of Geronimo Jackson?”

“I’m afraid not.” He looks around and realizes the two of them seem to be the only ones in the hatch. The only ones. “Where’s Jack and Locke? Is Shannon still resting?”

Charlie exchanges a glance with Hurley, then looks upwards to Sayid from his seat in front of him. Sayid doesn’t like the expression on his face, it gives him a pit in his stomach.

“Jack and Locke went after Michael,” Hurley replies, not looking at him at all.

Sayid raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. “Michael?”

“Yeah,” Charlie adds, “he ran off after Walt again. Everyone’s gone to bring them back.”

“Everyone?”

“Jack, Locke, and Sawyer,” Hurley says, then realizes he left one out, “oh, and Kate.”

“They’ll be back soon, I reckon. They started following them not long after they left,” Charlie tries to reassure him without saying too much.

Another set of alarm bells begin to blare in Sayid’s head. “Them?”

Charlie’s lips tighten. “I meant him, sorry.”

“Both of you listen to me very carefully. I am going to ask you one question. Just one. One or both of you is going to answer it, I don’t care which. If you lie to me, you will not like what happens.”

Both Charlie and Hurley go pale. Hurley stares at the floor like a child that just got caught sneaking sweets before dinner. Sayid walks around so that he’s standing above both of them, looming above them with a glare that could kill.

“Where is Shannon?”

“Dude…” Hurley finally starts, looking up, “Michael took her.”

~

The bag is tugged off of Shannon’s head surprisingly gently. It’s the middle of the night now. Shannon had barely been able to tell what time of day it was for the last several hours. She comes face to face with a girl that couldn’t have been more than five years younger than her; a teenager.

“Are you okay? Tom told me you were shot. Pickett didn’t rough you up too bad, did he?” she asks.

“What? Who are you? What are we doing here?” Shannon asks. “Where is Walt?”

The girl quickly shushes her when her voice raises with her last question. “Please, you have to be quiet. I don’t want them to hurt you.”

A second later, Tom, the bearded man, walks over with the still bagged Michael and sits him down on a nearby log. Ripping the bag off his head, he grins at him. “Hey there, Michael.”

Michael responds by spitting in Tom’s face. The man recoils, then wipes it away. “I’m not gonna hold that one against you. I took your boy. Fair’s fair. What I’m really interested in… is how she’s mixed up in all this.”

Tom’s attention turns to Shannon, who curls in on herself as soon as his eyes land on her. She feels like a piece of meat when his eyes size her up. “I’m Mr. Friendly. And you are?”

“Sh-Shannon.”

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Shannon.”

“Where is Walt? What did you do to him?” she asks firmly.

“Whoa, now, we still have some kinks to iron out before we can answer any questions.”

“You heard her! Where is he, you son of a bitch?” Michael echoes, thrashing in his seat.

At that moment, Pickett comes stomping over, dragging along a third person with a bag over their head. He grins devilishly and thrashes them a tiny bit. “Look at what I found. She was following her friends about a half a click behind us.”

Shannon can hear the sounds being made from beneath the bag, muffled grunts of indignance, but most notably fear. Unmistakably Kate. Tom points to both of them with a sudden stern look on his face. “You two make one sound, and you’ll never see the boy again.” He turns to Pickett. “Gag them, then get ready with the torches.”

“Get over here and help me, Alex,” Pickett grunts while putting the gag in Michael’s mouth.

The girl, Alex as Shannon tells herself to remember, gives her an apologetic look before forcing a cloth gag between her lips. No sooner does she finish, a trio of voices can be heard rapidly approaching their location.

“I think we’d better head back,” comes Locke’s reasonable tone.

“What?” Sawyer’s harsh judgement contrasts the calmness in Locke’s voice.

“Just find the trail, John,” Jack’s insistence is palpable. Shannon is relieved that someone got them out of the armory, also in time to press that button. She hopes, at least.

Locke shakes his head. “I’ve lost the trail.”

“You don’t just lose a trail! You don’t want to find them.”

“How dare you say that to me. I care about Michael, and I especially care about Shannon. Even if she doesn’t think highly of me, I’m proud of how far she’s come and what she’s survived.” His words stir something in her chest. Truthfully, she still isn’t so sure on how she feels about Locke. She knows he didn’t kill Boone, and she knows he feels bad about it, and she definitely wasn’t innocent, either. But part of her still feels like he’s hiding things, and she isn’t sure how dangerous it is to be left in the dark. But maybe it’s just as dangerous to be the one who knows. She can’t say for sure.

“You know what happens if we just turn around and go back? We’re never going to see them again. That’s going to be on us. You and me.”

“You’re exactly right, Jack,” Tom interjects their conversation, having stepped out from the brush nearby. The three men all turn and aim their guns at him, but his grin never wavers.

“Who are you?” Jack asks.

“He’s the son of a bitch who shot me on the raft,” Sawyer answers with a growl behind the words.

There’s a gunshot that goes off in the deafening, tense silence. Shannon, Michael, and Kate under her bag all flinch hard at the sound. Sawyer cries out and drops the gun to clutch his ear, in which a bullet appears to have grazed. Shannon closes her eyes. She wants Sayid. She wishes he could be here right now. To gun down these men and swoop her off her feet and take her back to safety. But he isn’t. She’s on her own.

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t cry…” she hears Alex say near her, still with her eyes closed, “he’s just delivering a message, they’re not actually going to shoot any of your friends.”

“Light ‘em up!” Tom suddenly bellows, and on cue, several fire torches strike ablaze in a circle all around Jack, Locke, and Sawyer. The circle also encompasses Shannon, Michael, and Kate, though they’re still hidden from view on Jack’s side of things. Tom sets his attention back on Jack, who now looks considerably more humbled after his previous statement had just been so sorely disproven. “Give me your weapons, turn around, and go home.”

Despite the apprehension, Jack remains firm. “No.”

“Jmmck!” Shannon tries to talk through her gag. Pickett storms over to her and grabs her by the face.

“You really want to try something, you little bitch?” His tone is venom that makes her eyes glass over with a fresh round of tears. Immediately, Alex steps in and pushes herself in front of Shannon.

“Let it go. Please. She’s just scared.” She turns around to face Shannon. “Please don’t make any noise. If you comply, you won’t get hurt, I promise.”

“Bring her out, Alex!” Tom shouts from the other side of the brush.

Pickett looks at Alex, who gives him a reluctant look, she then shakes her head. “You.”

“Come on, Alex. Go on.”

“Please.”

He doesn’t say anything else, and instead grabs Kate by the arm with a heavy sigh. “Let’s go. Up.”

The two of them walk out of the brush together as the confrontation continues. Once they’re gone, Alex leans closer to both of them. “Is Claire okay?”

Shannon raises a brow. “Hmmh?”

“The pregnant girl? Did she have the baby?”

Michael looks equally confused, saying nothing in response. Alex looks desperate for an answer. Shannon just gives a small little nod of her head to signify she’s okay and did indeed have her baby.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Neither one of them are able to respond due to the gags in their mouth. That, and Pickett walks back over, causing her to shuffle back away from them both. Tom, meanwhile, looks at the small pile of guns now collected on the ground in front of him as Jack, Locke, and the now released Kate turn and begin walking away. Sawyer, however, briefly pauses.

“You and me ain’t done, Zeke,” he sneers before joining the other three. As soon as they’re far enough away, the torches go out. Tom picks up the guns, and Shannon watches him join them once more, dropping them down on the floor in front of the others.

“Their friends are going home,” he reports, then gestures to the guns, “divvy ‘em up.”

Alex picks one up, right as Tom proceeds to knock Michael unconscious with one that he picked up a second ago. He shoots Alex a look, then flicks his eyes at Shannon. She catches this, and shakes her head with a silent plea. Shannon watches Alex observe the gun in her hand, then herself, back and forth.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

With one quick smack, everything goes pitch black for Shannon, and the sounds around her fade out a second later into nothingness as her body goes unconscious right beside Michael.