FanFiction Contest Posting Thread

Unexpected

“I hate you.” said Juliet softly. She sighed, disappointed that she had been unable to say it on tape, for him to hear. She hesitated a moment before placing the recorder back onto the locker shelf.

“And why would that be Juliet?” She slammed the locker door shut in fright as Ben’s voice came from behind her. Juliet turned slowly, to see Ben standing in the doorway, a small crooked smile on his face. “I see you’re walking again.” she said avoiding his question while trying to catch her breath. He nodded his head slightly towards the walking stick in his right hand before continuing on as if she hadn’t said anything, the same smile still lingering on his lips. Her heart was pounding violently against her ribs.

“Is it because I wouldn’t let you go home every time you asked me in the past three years? Or the man you loved is dead because I sent him to his doom?” He crossed his arms, and leant against the wall, an amused look on his face. “I did let you think that your sister was dead for two years, oh, and when I did finally prove she was alive, I so rudely cut off the picture, maybe that’s it.” He took a few steps towards her, where she stood with her back pressed against the lockers, intimidated and fearful.

“Now let me see Juliet,” he began, the amused look on his face replaced with an angry one. “Perhaps you hate me, because I left you to drown when Jack opened the door in the Hydra, and then when I finally allowed you to go home, John blew up the submarine after a nice little chat with me.” His voice now grew dangerously quiet as he came closer, one hand resting on the locker next to her head. “Maybe… maybe it’s because I’m making you betray your precious Jack.”

He cocked his head, waiting for an answer, his intense blue eyes boring into hers. She looked away first. “Sun is waiting for me. I have to go.” As she tried to walk away Ben pushed her back against the locker, his hand on her shoulder. “Richard stunned Kwon, she’ll be out for about an hour.” he said almost mocking her. “She won’t know anything has happened so you can tell her she fainted.”

Juliet sighed softly, looking down at the floor. “The tape’s in the locker Ben.” Ben smirked. “I’m not bothered about the tape anymore Juliet. What I want is to hear why you hate me.” He waited patiently, but she offered him no answer. “Come on Juliet, it’s a simple enough question.” The smirk slid off of his face slowly.

“The old Juliet would have told me,” he whispered in her ear. “You’re going soft.” He walked back over to the door frame, and leant against it casually. She watched him, and then shook her head softly, a forced smile on her face. “Ben, I-” she began but he cut her off.

“I’m waiting Juliet.” he said coldly. “We don’t have all night.”

She had a lump in her throat. “I don’t hate you,” she said shakily, trying to laugh it off. His frown deepened. “Wrong answer Juliet. Let’s try again shall we.” the same mocking tone was in his voice as before. The smile disappeared off Juliet’s face. “I don’t hate you.” she said finally. A look of rage came over Ben’s face, and he stormed over to her, placing his hand on her lower back, underneath her shirt, pressing against her scar.

“Is it because I had this done to you?” he hissed as she cried out in pain. “It would have been death Juliet! I saved your life! One scar for another Juliet!” He pressed on her scar harder. “I saw the tape Juliet. You and your cue cards!” he spat, their faces a few inches apart. “And I saw your precious Jack, healing you. Jack and his healing hands and his soothing Aloe Vera!” He gave one final press on her scar and then stepped back, disgust on his face.

“I hate you because you did all that to me, and I still love you!” she screamed at him in pain. Silence and shock descended over them like a mist. Juliet covered her mouth in shock, tears in the corners of her eyes. He pressed his lips tightly together, not sure what to say or do for the first time in a very long time.

Finally he reached behind her and opened the locker, taking out the tape recorder, hoping that she could not see his shaking hands. His knuckles were white where he gripped his walking stick tightly. He shut the locker door softly, sighing. She had sunk to the floor, hyperventilating slightly, her hands still covering her mouth. He sighed once more and walked slowly and wearily to the doorway, taking one last look at her, the strong woman he knew, crying over him.

“I miss you Juliet.” he said softly, before walking out of the room, and away from the woman he loved. It was cold, outside of the medical station, and dark. He stood, staring out in the darkness, leaning heavily on his walking stick. A single tear rolled down his cheek, one work on his lips. “Juliet…”

Title: Birds of a Forgotten Morning
(this is also posted at my new lj. check my profile for address)

~o~

If he concentrated hard enough, he could harness the stillness around him, control it, manipulate it. It was not as difficult as it seemed, although the bitter memories of years alone as a child cultivating this talent often left Ben feeling the need for even more stillness than the nature around him could afford. But today – today he could conquer. Today, he had to conquer.

It always began the same, a whisper in his head (always Annie’s voice), quiet reassurances that if he was quiet enough he could find her. The sun had not yet risen, had not yet crested over the bleakly imposing mountains (for they, too, wished the island could be more still and the constant battle waged around them made them angry). He closed his eyes, sought her image in his mind. It was always sunny in his memory, an unusual quirk of his brain because, save for a brief moment on a swing, most memories involved rain. But in the brilliant sunlight he saw her, and in the rising sun this morning he sought her, sought her hand between his own, so real he could almost feel her touch on his fingers.

He opened his eyes, a slight breeze washing over his skin, making him feel light. Suddenly, as quick as a switch being turned off, the sounds around him vanished, leaving behind the stillness he craved. Ben smiled, the ends of his mouth curling in a familiar way. Some men (pathetic, ordinary men) are capable of few expressions – for them, a smile is a smile is a smile. But Ben understood the nuances of expression, the intricacies of communication.

Some men had only one face. Ben had thousands.

Today, his face spoke of different things. The constant stream of arrogance that boiled beneath the surface of his eyes spilled into his smile, making the left corner of his mouth turn up ever so slightly. Curiosity relaxed his lips, his lower lip slightly open. The wind brushing across his hands was responsible for the smile on the right side – it tickled at his wrist and cooled his forearm.

His eyes, when opened, were alert and introspective, searching and thinking. When he closed his eyes, his face relaxed even more, a sea of tranquility reflected there. But he was always watching. Always seeing. The sun peered over the top of the mountain now, bathing the valley in the brilliant dawn. Many people love dusk and dawn – love the renewal inherent in the beauty. For Ben, dawn was yet another moment for him to control (and even though he hated the word, control was really what he craved). But, like any other human, he appreciated the brilliance. Like any other creature, he appreciated the birth. But unlike those around him, he saw more.

Ben gazed around the valley, his eyes and head barely moving but still taking in everything around him. There, out of the corner of his eye, a bird approached. Ben’s smile became ever larger as he watched the bird hop across the dewy grass. Its head ducked and bobbed with seemingly random motions, the bird itself hopping in an unfamiliar pattern that Ben instantly understood. The bird was lost.

For a moment, their eyes met. Ben removed his smile, not wanting to frighten. The bird lifted up its wings and flew closer, picking at the ground about thirty feet away. Ben remained still, even as the bird came closer, closer still.

A crack in the sky and the bird flew off. Ben’s smile turned downwards, looking to see what had caused the noise. Movement lingered at his peripheral vision. They were waking up.

Ben remained still (what choice did he have, really), watching the scene before him. These were different. Some squawky, some quiet, some followers, some leaders. Some broken, some whole, some lost. But the most injured one of them all had no visible wounds. Those who did not know what to look for could not see her broken wings. She hid her injuries well, much like her father.

She crept up to him cautiously, watching his face (tying to gauge his expression, for she was familiar with nearly all of the thousands), watching his eyes (hiding everything he did not want her to see).

“Good morning, Alex,” he said courteously, trying to somehow find humour in the situation.

“Dad.”

His smile faded, the mask appearing, his default expression of nothingness. He had not expected her to call him that. For years he had been only a name to her (a name his own father would utter with similar contempt). But now, suddenly, a relationship. He could not stop the concern in his voice, even as the words were ordinary.

“Sleep well?” he asked, straightening up against his binds.

“Not really,” she admitted, walking closer but yet still hidden by the distance. A moment of pride swelled in him when she did not blindly ask how he was as well (for indeed, how would he be, having spent the night tied to a tree). Ben knew he was not a good father. He also knew that he had somehow raised a good daughter, and her intelligence and consideration were both her best and worst qualities.

“How is it with your mother?”

Alex smiled and he knew she would not answer. She was too smart for that. Ben closed his eyes, willing his stillness to comfort her. When he opened his eyes she was closer and her face had softened.

“Do you want me to see if they will let me clean you up?” she asked, discomfort in her voice but determination in her eyes.

Ben had almost forgotten the crust of blood that nearly enveloped him. But now that he knew it was impossible to ignore. His face itched, his arms were stiff, and the tickling breeze became painful.

“I’d appreciate that. Thanks.”

He watched her as she hesitantly approached Jack, saw both their eyes drift to him, saw Jack nod his head. He watched her get a rag, a canteen, watched as she once again approached him, her hesitation nearly imperceptible as she began scraping the hardened blood off his face.

“I won’t tell them about the temple,” she said suddenly, looking at his eyes. After a moment, Ben nodded, relief washing over him, more cleansing that the cloth. A few painful moments later and she was done. Picking up her things (the cloth now darkened red with his injuries) she turned to rejoin the now-bustling group, their eyes glancing up to the skies (as if a rescue would ever come).

“Alex,” he called suddenly, not knowing what to say but knowing something needed to be said.

She turned to look at him and he did not recognize her, did not recognize the girl who sat on his lap telling him stories, the girl who drew him pictures and made him inedible breakfasts. He was no longer dad; he was Ben once again.

So he shook his head and watched as the broken bird turned and walked away, her injuries hidden but just as painful. The stillness was gone.

~o~

FIN

Title: Loss of Innocence
Rating: PG to PG-13ish for the Purge scene/descriptions
Timeline: The time between the first Richard/Ben meeting to right after the Purge
Disclaimer: I do not own Lost nor the characters, however every event MINUS the Purge is of my own imagination.


As Ben walked back towards the sonic barrier, he readjusted the strap on his bag, it feeling tighter than ever, pinching his skin. He glanced back over his shoulder as sweat dripped down his face. A drip fell upon his glasses and he reached his sleeve up to wipe it away, only to smear it across the glass and make it worse. Sighing he removed the frames and lifted them up to the sunlight to see where the smear was. Finding it he then lowered the glass to his mouth where he breathed upon it, wiping it clean with the fabric of his shirt. He checked again just to see dirt smears in its place. He growled and stomped his foot upon the ground, throwing a tantrum. He sat down upon a rock, trying to clean his glasses again but no matter what he did, nothing seemed to work. He sunk his face into his hands and began to sob. Dirt dripped off his hands, mixed with the water from his tears, glasses getting even filthier.

“BOY! What the hell are you doing out here on this side of the fence!” came a booming voice. Ben spun around and slipped off the rock, landing on his bum in the mud. He scrambled to get on his feet as his father stormed towards him, hatred glaring in his eyes. “You know very well you are not supposed to be out here” he said, grabbing Ben by the collar of his shirt and tugging him up to his face so he could sneer into his face. “Have a death wish do you?” he spat. Ben could feel it trickling ever so slowly down his cheek and over his sun dried cracked lips. “I outta just leave you out here for the Hostiles to do what they’d like with you.” He said, dropping Ben back upon the ground. As Ben landed he felt a snap in his ankle. He cried out in pain and clutched at it. “Oh shut up and get your ass back home” his father glared and stormed off into the woods.

“Dad wait!!!” he cried out, reaching after him, eye sight blurring with tears. But as he tried to stand upon his feet, he collapsed, pain shooting up his leg. He gritted his teeth and looked at his foot as his shoe began to feel too small for his foot had swelled. His fingers trembled at the shoelaces to try to get the shoe off his foot, to ease the pain.

“Don’t…” came a soft voice. Ben looked up. He couldn’t see through his tears but he knew who it was. After all, he’d only met the man moments earlier. The figure approached him and knelt by his side. His hands gently held his ankle. Wincing Ben bit his lip, blood trickling down his teeth from the force of the bite. Richard looked into his eyes, hair falling in his face. “By releasing your foot from your shoe, you’re allowing the swelling to expand more than it would if it remained trapped inside your laces.” Glancing around the forest, Richard’s eyes fell upon a plant. He walked over and picked the leaves, heading back over to him. “Arnica…perfect for dislocations, fractures, swelling, bruises, and muscular pain. But do not use on an open wound.” He tore open the leaves and let the juice drip onto his sock. The sock started to turn green as it absorbed the medicine.

“Thank you,” Ben stuttered as he shook from the trauma. Richard looked up at him and upon his face as Ben looked away, wiping his own. Richard reached up to reassure him when Ben flinched away. He looked down at Richard and curled up, removing his foot from the warmth of Richard’s hands. “I better be getting home,” he said, struggling to stand. He caught the trunk of a tree with his hand as he almost fell back to the ground.

“Careful little one,” Richard spoke as he held out his hand for Ben to sturdy himself with. Ben looked upon his hand then his face. Richard smiled a bit, reassuringly; his eyes soft and full of kindness. A tear escaped Ben’s eye and it trickled down his cheek, creating a clear path in the dirt upon them. “Hey” Richard said, wiping the tear away. “Don’t let him get to you alright?” Richard straightened Ben’s clothes. “You’re more than that Benjamin…you’re special.” He handed him a stick that forked at the top. “Here, use this to walk. It may not be much, but it will help.” Ben hesitantly took the jungle made crutch from Richard’s grasp and leaned ever so slightly upon it to make sure it would indeed hold his weight. When it didn’t creek or moan under him, he hobbled forward, into the trees, and out of sight as Richard watched. “I shall see you soon little one.”

------------------------------------- FIFTEEN YEARS LATER-------------------------------------

Ben looked down at his hands. They didn’t seem his own. They shook and felt clammy, glistening from the sweat that coated them. He brought his hand to his mouth, placing his index finger into his mouth. His teeth found the spot right underneath the nail. He bit down, tearing the nail to shreds. He removed his finger, turned his head to the side, spitting the nail bits into the air. He then looked down at his watch. Just a few more minutes. He glanced in the direction in which he always came from when they met.

“You’re here,” came a voice from behind him. Ben jumped and slid off his spot, landing on his bum.

“Why do you do that?” he asked, placing his hands upon the ground and pushed off, getting up.

“Because you have to remain a mystery, otherwise where’s the fun.” Richard smiled. Ben’s eyes fell upon his hands which held a canister and a gas mask. He shuddered, remembering the deal. Richard’s brow rose, wrinkling his forehead. “You’re not having any second thoughts now are you?” Ben snapped his head up, catching Richard’s eyes with his own.

“Of course not,” he said as he took a step forward, extending his now dirty hands to take a hold of the items when they were pulled from his reach.

“I cannot give these to you unless you are certain you are going to go through with this.” Ben could feel heat rising to his cheeks.

“After all these years you expect otherwise? Jesus Richard…..you know how much this means to me…”

Richard smiled. “I do…” he handed him the items. “Remember….four o’clock….”

“I know…..four o’clock.”

---------------------------------------MONTHS EARLIER------------------------------------------

“I have to do WHAT?!” exclaimed Ben as his jaw dropped. Richard couldn’t have just spoken what he thought he had just spoken. He searched the older man’s eyes for a hint of sarcasm…none. The room seemed to start spinning and Ben had to sit down, holding his head in his hands, taking deep breaths. His stomach had started to turn and he could taste his lunch in his mouth. Sweat started to trickle down his forehead and he could feel the color draining from his face…he was going to be sick.

“Look Ben, the hesitation that you're feeling is just the part of you that still feels like he has a perfectly good explanation for treating you the way he did all those years...as if you were nothing to him. Don't you want to be free from him?”

“I’m going to be sick…” muttered Ben as he collapsed forward onto his hands and knees, projecting vomit all over the ground.

“You're doing this to yourself, Benjamin. As long as he's still breathing, you'll still be that same sad, pathetic little man that wasn’t worth a single birthday celebration because he brought death to his mother…”

“Shut up….just shut up!” cried Ben, tilting his head up, tears filling his eyes.

“No Benjamin…” Richard squatted in front of him. “He destroyed your life…he hated you…he still does…he blames YOU for her death…if you hadn’t been born, she’d still be alive.”

Suddenly Richard was forced upon his back as Ben stood over him, knife to his throat. “I said to shut up” he sneered. Richard just smiled.

“You’re ready.”

-------------------------------------BACK TO PRESENT DAY------------------------------------

Ben glanced at himself in the mirror standing before him. “You can do this” he said to his reflection. “You HAVE to do this. It’s the only way to prove your worth to them…to Richard.” He paused as he grabbed his Dharma jumpsuit and stepped into it, zippering it up. “After all…he’s the only so called father you’ve ever had…he practically raised you…” Ben looked at his watch, and then the doll Annie gave him years earlier. Walking over to it, he took her gently and placed it into his bag.

-------------------------------------------YEARS EARLIER-----------------------------------------

Ben felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. “What do you mean Annie? I thought…I thought we….” Tears formed into his eyes.

“Oh Benjamin, I liked you, I really did, but you were never happy…not even with me,” she said as she glanced down at the ring on her finger. “I’ll always remember the earlier years…” she smiled “and you have the doll I gave you. We’ll always be friends…I promise.” Kissing him upon the cheek, Annie stood, walking off towards a man waiting for her. Once she got to him he wrapped an arm around her and they walked off towards the encampment.

-------------------------------------BACK TO PRESENT DAY------------------------------------

Ben made his way to the Dharma van that his father was loading beer into. He remained silent, watching him until he noticed him.

“Morning. OK, wait. Put it right, right down there. What's your problem now? Sure you're usually Chatty Cathy in the morning.”

“It's my birthday. I dunno why I keep fooling myself into thinking that one of these years you're actually gonna remember.”

“ Well I'll tell you what. All we gotta do this morning is run this stuff out to the Pearl station. Why don't we go up to the mesa, drink some beers. Have some, I dunno, father and son time.”

“I'd like that.”

“OK.”

They drove up to a hill where his father placed the van in the parking position and smiled. “Well, you sure can't say it ain't beautiful,” he said as he grabbed a beer, opened it and took a swig.

Ben remained silent, thinking. So many questions were running through his head. Questions he wanted answered before he…before…but there was one particular question he needed to ask. “Do you really blame me?”

“What?” Roger asked as he turned his head to look at him.

“Do you really think its my fault that she died.” By the look he was given, Ben suddenly wished he hadn’t asked the question and prepared himself for getting beaten, yelled at, or both.

“What do I know.”

Ben knew he wasn’t going to get anything out of him, why had he tried. Why, after all these years was he trying to find some kind of…well…kindness in his old man’s heart. He glanced at his watch.

“Why do you keep looking at your watch? You got a date?” he paused then added “Listen. If it makes you feel any better, I will do my best to remember your birthday next year.”

Ben felt heat rising to his cheeks. What made next year so different from all the years passed. Why make an effort now…after beating him senseless, breaking bones in his body, making Ben have to think up of SOME kind of story as to why he was always hurt in some way… “I don't think that's going to happen, Dad.” He said, lips forming a line.

“What do you mean?”

Ben finally decided to tell him exactly what he was thinking. “You know I've missed her too. Maybe as much as you have. But the difference is, for as long as I can remember, I've had to put up with you. And doing that required a tremendous amount of patience.” He reached into his bag and pulled out the gas mask Richard had given to him. “Goodbye, Dad,” Ben said as he took out a gas canister, opening it, letting it’s contents escape into the car.

“Ben?” his father asked as blood began to drip from his nose. His eyes furrowed as he struggled for breath. He glanced over at his son, confused as to why he was doing this…he started to cough, blood spurting from his lips. All the while his son would not look at him. He felt his body slipping…it wasn’t long now. His twitching started to slow down and all of a sudden he felt the blackness engulf him.

Ben looked over at him then turned slowly to his car door, opening it. He climbed out then shut the door. His head felt funny; not from the gas…but because of what the gas did. He had thought of various ways to complete his task only to decide on a way that didn’t involve laying a finger upon him. He felt tears forming in his eyes but he blinked them back. Richard, nor the others, needed to see them.

As he entered the encampment, his whole body felt numb. Bodies littered the ground like fallen leaves in October. He slowly made his way towards a man sitting upon a bench. As he got closer, he noticed it was Horace. He had died with his eyes open and they seemed to peer into Ben’s soul. A shiver ran down his spine as he reached out, closing his eyes.

Noticing movement from the corner of his eye, Ben turned to see Richard entering the camp along with the rest of his people. Richard noticed him and walked towards him. He glanced down at his watch then reached up to his gas mask, lifting it only a little ways, testing the air, breathing in deeply. Once he was sure, he removed the mask completely as others began to mimic him. Ben slowly removed his, bringing it down in front of him.

“You want us to erm, go get his body?” Richard asked, looking into his eyes.

Ben shook his head “No leave him out there.” Richard nodded then turned, walking away. The rest of his team began to follow. Ben stayed, looking around at all the bodies. “Wait!” he called after them. Richard stopped in his tracks and turned back to him. “Can we…give the rest of them a burial at least?” Richard gave one nod then made eye contact with a few of his men whom spread out, starting to gather the bodies. He held eye contact with Ben as Ben mouthed Thank you.


Ben walked around, checking every nook and cranny for any corpses they missed. Once outside was cleared he started to search the houses. He stopped when he came to one in the middle. Flowers planted nicely along one of the sides…a garden that was tended with tender loving care. The door was open a jar but Ben could not bring himself to take a step forward. A hand was between the door and the door frame. It was HIS. Ben finally managed to walk up the steps and opened the door the rest of the way. He lay upon the floor, eyes open with blood in the corners of his mouth and coating the skin between his nose and upper lip. He stepped over him, heading inside. He looked in the kitchen, clear. The den, clear. The master bedroom, clear. He turned a corner to see a door open fully, revealing a window wide open on the opposite wall. Painted planes and trucks decorated the walls, wrapping around the whole room. Music played softly; nursery lullabies. A tear trickled down his cheek as he reached the doorway, peering into the room. There she was, sitting in the rocking chair, infant in her arms, both still and growing cold. He crumbled, falling to his knees, burying his head into his heads as he cried in pain, clutching his chest. He could not keep it in any longer; he lifted his head and screamed at the top of his lungs. He looked at her. A strand of her hair fell across her face. He crawled to her and lifted a trembling hand, brushing it from her face. He noticed the blood upon her face and looked around the room. He grabbed a nearby washcloth and licked it damp. He then began to wipe the blood from her face, clearing it. He looked down at the still boy in her arms. Blood covered the hand that was inside his mouth. His bib displaying his name upon it. Ben choked back tears as he read what she had named her son.

“I promise….” He glanced up upon her lovely face and into her eyes that stared off at the wall. “I promise I will give you a full proper burial.”


Richard approached Ben who was finishing placing dirt upon a mound. He stood next to him and placed a hand upon his shoulder. Ben turned to him and made eye contact. Richard could see that his eyes were puffy and red from crying. “Benjamin…” he said softly…”All will be fine in good time. You’ll see.”

“
"Benjamin…” Ben echoed as he glanced at the tombstone that marked the grave. “I like the sound of that name.” He fought on coming tears “Yet hate it at the same time,” and with that he walked away, leaving Richard. He looked upon the words written so elegantly upon the wooden plank.



His eyes noticed a smaller plank of wood next to hers with a smaller mound, now understanding what Ben meant.

Category: drama, angst, missing scenes
Rating: PG to PG-13
Note: This is a companion piece to another story I'm writing. (You don't need to read that one to understand this one though.). It features one original character (Athena Alexandrou) who has appeared in several of my other fics.)

Banish the past

Present day

"I need you to take these files to Mikhail at the flame station." Ben Linus said to the young woman sitting across from him in his study. "Of course, Ben." Athena Alexandrou answered. "What do you want me to tell him?" Athena had lived on the island her whole life and was completely loyal to Ben and his plans.(Or at least he believed her to be. She had never questioned his orders and that was good enough for him.)

"Just let him know that I need more information on the plane crash survivors. Jack Shepard, Kate Austen, James Ford, and John Locke especially." Athena nodded. "I'll see what I can find out." Ben smiled. "Good. I look forward to reading the reports." Athena stood and taking the files Ben indicated left the study. He watched her go with undisguised interest, his eyes going to her firm butt and long, muscular legs. Ben sighed and looked around his study. All his books should have comforted him. Instead they made him reflect more. He had no calendar on the wall but he knew in two days time it would be his birthday. That always brought unpleasant memories to the surface. Memories of his father, of Annie, of that other event he commemorated in December. He had been 24 years old and had been responsible for over forty deaths.

December 1987
Ben Linus walked across the deserted compound. Everything seemed eerily quiet. Several bodies lay on the grass or were sprawled on the benches lining the recreation area. It looked as if they had just collapsed right in the middle of whatever they were doing. Ben knew too well that was probably exactly what had happened.
Just over two hours had passed since the "hostiles" had released the poisonous gas in the area. Shortly after that Ben had killed his poor excuse for a father in the same way. Standing alone in the middle of this open field with it's volleyball nets and whitewashed benches he imagined this was what being the last person left on Earth felt like. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling either. The afternoon sun felt warm on the back of his neck and his face began to sweat under his gas mask. He didn't dare remove it though. It might not be safe yet.
Ben turned as he heard someone coming towards him. It was Richard Alpert, the seeming leader of the "hostiles". He was still wearing his own gas mask. Ben watched as he stopped a few feet away and looked around. He paused, then slowly removed his mask. When nothing happened to him after several moments Ben did the same. He was relieved to have the hot constricting rubber off his face. "Did you do it?" Richard asked him. Ben nodded. "I did." Richard looked at him. "Good. Do you want me to send someone to retrieve the body?" Ben shook his head. "No. He can stay where he is." Richard nodded. "As you wish."
Several moments later some of Richard's people began to join them in the open field. They were dressed in loose fitting earth toned pants and tunics and wore gas masks. They nodded at Ben and Richard and seeing the masks in their leaders' hands removed their own. "You're sure there were no survivors?" Richard asked a man with dark blond hair and mustache. "Only the few we agreed to spare." the man, whose name was Danny Pickett answered. Almost as if on cue the front door of one of the nearby houses opened and a solidly built man of about forty came out followed by a frightened looking preteen girl with long black braids. They joined the group in the field, the girl looking from face to face as if trying to find someone. "What happened to everyone?" she asked. "Where are my parents?"
"That's kind of a complicated story." The man she had come out with said. The girl seemed to notice the bodies lying around them for the first time. "Why is everyone dead?" She asked with mounting panic. "Are my parents dead too?"
"Tom, would you keep her quiet. She's getting on my nerves." Ben said to the girl's companion. "I didn't want you to find out like this Athena, but everyone but us is dead. Unfortunately, that includes your parents." Tom told the girl. He turned to Ben with a scowl on his face. "You could have a little compassion Ben. The child just lost all her family and friends." Ben looked at him coolly. "I just lost my father too. You don't see me going all to pieces."
"That's a different situation. We all know you hated your father and are glad he's gone." Ben didn't have a response for that. It was true he had no remorse for what he had done. Why should he? When he wasn't getting stinking drunk on Dharma beer Roger Linus was either ignoring his son or reminding him he was responsible for his mother's death. (the fact that it had happened in childbirth and that the baby had no direct responsibility for that didn't seem to matter.)
Ben felt a sense of relief now that he was gone.

Present day
In his study Ben glanced at the pictures on the walls and standing on the bookshelves. They were mostly of Alex at different ages or of the two of them together. There were several of his mother and one of Annie. There never had been any of his father and there never would be. In the seventeen years since the “purge” as it had come to be known his feelings about that man had not changed. Ben glanced at the crude wooden doll that stood next to Annie's picture. It's companion had been buried with her many years before. He still felt a tug of sadness whenever he thought of her and their child that had never been born. What was it about this place that caused women to die in the middle of their pregnancies? Annie had died in the summer of 1987. She had just turned 23. Ben wondered if she had still been alive in December if things would have been different. Or would he have had to make an even more painful choice? Annie's parents had been very strong Dharma supporters and she seemed to feel the same way. What if she had refused to join his group? Ben didn't want to think about that possibility. He was glad he hadn't had to make that choice.
He was pulled from his thoughts by a knock at the door. “Come in.” He said, wondering who it could be and what they wanted. He wasn't expecting anyone at the moment. “You got a minute, Ben?” Tom said as he entered the study. “What's on your mind?” Tom sat in one of the overstuffed chair near Ben's desk. “Do you really think it was smart to abduct the boy and the pregnant woman? That's not going to endear the surgeon to us and you need him to operate on your back. I don't see why we couldn't have just sent someone to the survivors to ask for their assistance.” Ben looked at the older man. “Are you questioning my leadership, Tom? Have I not always done what was best for our people?” Tom shook his head. “No. Of course not, Ben.” Secretly he was but he'd never admit that to anyone, least of all Ben himself.
“I'm just saying you should think of the possible ramifications.” Ben looked at the man sitting across from him. He had known Tom Collins practically since he and his father had arrived on the island. When he wasn't in the school room young Ben had loved to go exploring around the compound. (often accompanied by Annie.) One such day he found himself down by a group of storage buildings and some large animal cages.(It was the only part of the small island he hadn't yet explored.) He was fascinated to see several of the cages contained what looked to be polar bears and went to take a closer look. “I wouldn't get too close if I were you.” a voice behind him said. Ben turned and saw a tall young man in the standard khaki Dharma jumpsuit. The name above the chest patch read: Tom, zoological tech. (He wasn't quite sure what a zoological tech did but it sounded more interesting than a workman.)

“Um...I was just looking around. I'm a little lost, I guess.” The man looked at him. He appeared to be in his mid to late twenties and had a kind face. “What's your name?” He asked Ben. “I'm Ben.” Tom smiled at him. “Nice to meet you, Ben. I'm Tom.” Ben looked at him, still a little unsure if he was in trouble or not. “Does your father know where you are?” Tom asked him. “He's busy working.” Ben replied. (Working or getting drunk, Ben wasn't sure which at the moment.) “I don't really think he cares what happens to me anyway.” Tom looked back at him sympathetically. He had crossed paths with Roger Linus on several occasions and understood that Ben wasn't just being a sulky preteen by what he said. He smiled at Ben. “Don't tell your old man I gave you this.” He took an Apollo bar out of his pocket and gave it to him. “You want to learn about polar bears?” Ben nodded. “Come and take a closer look, but be careful. Bears are fascinating creatures but also very dangerous.” Tom proceeded to show Ben around the animal area.

Sitting in his study now Ben remembered the many pleasant afternoons he spent in Tom's company. (and how grateful he had been to find an adult that didn't treat him like a nuisance. He had finally stopped dreading going to the small island with his father.) He also remembered his father's reaction when he told him about his new friend.

Ordinarily Roger Linus barely looked up from his beer or grunted in reply when his son talked to him in the evenings. This time however he looked at the boy and said “I don't want you hanging around with that queer anymore. You got that?” Ben looked at him. “Why shouldn't I visit with him? He's my friend and he actually likes having me around.”

“Because I said so, that's why. I don't want you associating with “that kind”.” His father laughed bitterly and took a drink of beer. “Why do I even care. You've never given me anything but grief and heartache since the day you were born.”
Present day
Ben's hands were tightening unconsciously into fists as he thought about the past. “Ben?” Tom asked.
“Is something the matter?” Ben shook his head. “Let's go for a walk. If you have time, that is.”
“A walk sounds good.” Tom and Ben left the study and went out into the warm afternoon. The big man knew better than to question his friend when he got in this kind of mood.

They walked through the compound and into the jungle. Ben easily found a worn path and led them down it. A short time later they came out into a clearing. There appeared to be nothing there except for several mounds of stones surrounded by wild flowers. Several of these had what looked like rough wooden markers. Ben stopped in front of one of the mounds. It looked newer than the others and had the largest marker. Tom looked down at it and his eyes widened. Printed in black were the words
Annie Kimball
1962-1987
Jacob Benjamin Linus
-4 months
See you in another life
"Ben...I never knew." Tom said, suddenly at a loss for words. "He never wanted anyone to know." Richard Alpert stepped into the clearing. Tom shook his head at the man's propensity for seemingly appearing out of nowhere. "I didn't want to burden anyone with my grief." Ben replied. Thunder rumbled and the sky which had been threatening rain all day finally made good on it. "Come on. I know a place near here where we can take shelter." Richard said. Rain began to pelt down harder and they hurried after him.
A short, wet run through the jungle led them to a large cave. Ben hesitated then took a look at the driving rain and stepped inside.

As they watched the rain falling in sheets Tom turned to Ben. "Was it because of her?" Ben looked confused. "The purge. If Annie hadn't died would you have gone ahead with it? I know grief and anger can make people do things they ordinarily wouldn't..." Richard shot him a look as if to say "Did you have to bring that up?" Ben turned and looked directly at Tom. "I told you once to never speak of Annie and I meant it." He paused. "Suffice it to say the purge of Dharma would have happened one way or another." Richard nodded. "My people would have eventually ridden the island of Dharma regardless. The help of Ben and a few others just made it easier." Tom looked distressed at what he was hearing. "Why did your people hate us..hate Dharma so much? I don't recall anyone ever doing anything to the natives except in self defense."

"It's kind of a long story." Richard said. Tom glanced out at the driving rain and then back at him. "It appears you have time." Richard nodded. "I guess I should start at the beginning." They walked over to some large rocks on the cave floor and sat down. "Many years ago...thousands perhaps this island and others like it were inhabited by a race of beings my people refer to as "the old ones". Their existence was not known to most of the human population of the earth. They were a race of great knowledge and great power. No one knows for sure the exact circumstances but a cataclysm occurred wiping most of their race out. Most of those remaining ascended to a higher plane of existence. A few however chose to remain. One of these Great Ones is the being we call Jacob. " Richard paused. "For centuries my people have considered him their sage and protector and this island a sacred space, and our tribe his chosen people. Only a very few of us are privileged to speak to him and hear his words. Those chosen few are called Aurors and are revered as high priests or shamans." Tom was listening intently. Ben however, didn't seem quite as interested. "I was....I am an Auror." Richard continued. "As part of that privilege Jacob shared more than just his knowledge with me. He also shared his many gifts." Richard looked at Tom. "How old do you think I am?" Tom hesitated. He hated being asked to guess someone's age. "I'd say you're a little younger than Ben. 36-37, thereabouts." Richard smiled. "I'm actually more like 230." Tom looked incredulous. "What? You've got to be yanking my chain. No one can be that old."

"I'm being completely honest. It's thanks to Jacob that I am as I said. He has knowledge far beyond your capability to understand. To stop the aging process, to cure cancer, to heal. It's wonderful and my people swore to protect him." He paused. "And then Dharma came.” Tom was looking at Richard like a student at a fascinating lecture. Ben stared out of the cave at the rain. “So you're placing the blame on Dharma?” He said, not turning to look at the others. “No, Benjamin. I'm just telling what happened.” Richard replied calmly. “Why are you defending them anyway? You were instrumental in their overthrow.” Ben looked at him. “I'm just saying you can't blame all your people's troubles on Dharma.” Richard nodded. “I'm not trying to. Dharma isn't exactly innocent though.”
“What do you mean?”Tom asked. “I don't remember them hurting anybody.”
“It probably wasn't common knowledge to those not involved directly.” Richard said. “Some years ago, before either of you arrived on this island the Dharma Initiative sent scientific teams into the jungle to study the plant and animal life. They happened upon a group of my people hunting boar. As is Jacob's way we tried to be welcoming to the newcomers. They, in turn killed several of the hunting party.” Richard paused. “Once they realized we weren't savages they seemed apologetic about what they'd done. They tried to form an alliance with us and offered us medicines and other supplies. It seemed good until my people began falling ill.”
“Did the initiative do something to them?” Tom asked. Richard nodded. “We found out eventually that they had laced some of the food items they gave us with a biological agent they were testing. They also performed tests on many of us in an effort to “help us”. We were free from illness until they came.”
Tom looked horrified. “What happened to the people who got sick?” A look of sadness came over Richard's face. “Several of them died before Jacob was able to reverse what had been done to them. The others recovered, but at a cost. From that point on all those that had been experimented on were unable to bear children.” Richard looked at Ben. “One of those who died was my wife Ariadne. I was devastated and wanted nothing less than revenge. Thankfully Jacob was able to convince me otherwise.” He looked back at Tom. “Maybe now you can understand why my people had no love for the Dharma Initiative.”
“I had no idea...” Tom said. Ben stared out at the rain and thought about what he had just heard. “Was what his people were doing to the plane crash survivors no better than what Dharma had done? He didn't think so. They were trying to save their community not to hurt anyone. If a few people had to be used as lab rats, so be it. “It's for the greater good.” He thought.
Sighing deeply he closed his eyes. When the storm finally passed Athena should be returning with the information he had asked for. Then his plans could really get under way.