The Fic Of Doom!
Title: Schism.
Fandom: Lost.
Characters: Sayid, Jack, Locke, Charlie and others.
Rating: Gen (as in smut free) but PG-13/R for content.
Summary: Man of science - Man of faith.
Warnings: Spoilers for Season 2. Character death. Dark themes.
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Never will.
Beta: My future wife, lillyjk
Feedback: is my drug of choice.
fanfic100 Prompt: #59 Food.
Notes: Written for the suspended_fic challenge - to take a cliché and make it interesting. My assigned cliché was "One or more characters partakes of a tasty treat which, unbeknownst to them, is laced with drugs." Massive amounts of love and thanks to the wonderful and talented lillyjk for the beta. (Sorry about the lack of sexing, babe! ;p) And thanks to halfdutch for the read through, brain storming session and encouragement, philomel for the words of wisdom and support and to alliecat8 for her insight into Kate. There is some additional information under the cut, the text of which comes from The Crucible by Arthur Miller.
Ergot: A parasitic fungus that grows on cereal crops including Rye which, when ingested by humans, causes a condition known as Ergotism. Ergot contains hallucinogens and was used in the initial synthesis of LSD.
Ergotism: the effect of exposure to Ergot, symptoms of which can include hallucinations, psychosis and mania. Ergotism has been put forward as a speculative cause for the Salem Witch Trials and is thought to be the cause of many "plagues" in Europe in the Middle Ages.
Schism
Those who survived, those few who escaped the madness and sought shelter far away from the place where it began, would say that Kate was the first to be affected. The first to show signs of the insanity that would spread until it consumed and destroyed the world that they had tried so hard to build. But Kate was not the first to be struck down. There were others before her, others whose minds were poisoned by a substance as strong as any drug that could be bought on a street corner or in the dark recesses of a club. This was a drug of nature, a simple blight - small and hard to detect but whose effects could turn the strongest of men into a weakling: lost in a world of hallucinations and mania created by toxins that built up in their bloodstream until madness took control and rational thinking was but a memory. Kate was not the first, and she wouldn’t be the last, but she would be the one they thought of when fear made them tremble at the sound of footsteps or voices in the night. Because it was no longer strangers that they had to fear, it was themselves.
*****
Sayid stared at the ruins of the beach camp in horror. What had happened while he had been away mourning Shannon's death - fighting to control his impulse to exact vengeance on she who had caused it? There were signs of conflict all around, violence and confusion. That people had died, was shown all too clearly by drag marks stained crimson with blood, left by... by what? Animals? People? Sayid couldn’t tell. His thoughts were spinning too fast for him to make a good judgement. Whatever had happened had occurred a few days ago at least. The signal fire had long since burnt itself out and what little ash not scattered by the breeze was cold. Only a few charred branches remained where hope had once burnt bright.
Guilt began to eat at him. If he hadn't left, if he had stayed and let those around him help him with his pain instead of retreating into himself and running from them to face it alone, maybe he could have done something. Maybe he could have made a difference when this... attack? Invasion? Whatever it was had occurred. His mind created nightmarish scenes in which "The Others" crept into the camp under cover of darkness and stole away all those that they deemed worthy whilst leaving the rest for dead. Why hadn’t he been here when it happened? Why had he left, and, in doing so, left them to their fate?
But there was no time for self recriminations now, surely someone must have survived. Sayid refused to believe that everyone was gone, that he was now the lone survivor of Flight 815. He took one last look at the chaos that surrounded him and set off, at a run, for the caves.
Sayid had been a soldier; he understood the need for silence and stealth when moving about in territory that, for all he knew, now belonged to the enemy. Yet, when he came across the clearing and the horrors that it held, he could not stop the cry of shock that broke free. Sayid froze in his tracks, confusion and disgust painted across his features. There were five of them, five bodies hanging from low branches by ropes wound tightly around their necks. Their hands were bound behind their backs; their eyes open but, glassy, fixed, staring blankly into the nothingness of death. This was a site of execution, a place where judgement had been passed on those that now dwelled here. Each of them had a sign hung around their neck, attached to the noose that had taken their lives, their "crime" on show for all to see. "Adulteress" read Sun’s, Michael’s: "Wrath", "Liar" and "Thief" decorated the chests of two people that Sayid recognised but, he realised with regret, he had never taken the time to get to know and, then there was her: Ana-Lucia. Sayid paused for a second in front of the woman who had killed Shannon. "Murderer" read the sign and for just a moment Sayid found himself agreeing that she deserved this fate, deserved to have the life stolen from her just as she had stolen it from Shannon. Sayid closed his eyes and tried to fight back the feelings threatening to overwhelm him. No one deserved this fate, no matter what they had or hadn’t done, this was the work of a twisted mind not a judge and jury. Although, he realised that whoever had done this thing clearly thought of themselves in those terms.
Sayid offered up a prayer for the lost souls that surrounded him, and then turned his back on the scene. He would return later to give them all the burial that they deserved - for now, he just needed to know if anyone remained alive.
Raised voices in the distance drifted to him through the trees, and Sayid felt the first stirrings of hope since his return to the camp. But he still slowed his pace. Creeping slowly towards them; determined not to be discovered - to have the element of surprise if he needed it. His hand automatically went to the gun that Jack had given him when he left. But, even as he checked it was ready for use, he hoped that he would not have the need to use it. As he drew nearer, he recognised first Jack, then Locke as the speakers, but still he did not allow himself to move too close. The exchange sounded heated and there was a note of hysteria in Jack’s voice that worried him.
"People are dead, John. More are dying. When are you going to open your eyes and realise you are making things worse, not better?"
Sayid could see them now: Locke stood surrounded by people, calm and serene with a slight smile playing around his lips as though he were a parent trying his best to take the flight of fancy of his child seriously. Locke’s demeanour was in direct contrast to Jack's. Jack looked wild-eyed and agitated. He was pacing back and forth, shaking his head and gesturing as he spoke. Jack also looked like he hadn’t slept for days and, there was something about that idea that, strangely, made Sayid worry a little less. If Jack wasn't sleeping, then he was usually working out how to solve a crisis and Sayid had faith in Jack.
"Tell me, Jack. How can providing food for people be a bad thing? Is it because it was my idea and not yours? Ask yourself, is this jealousy talking and not rationality."
The crowd gathered around Locke murmured and nodded at his words until Locke hushed them with a raised hand, allowing Jack to be heard.
"How in the hell can you accuse me of being irrational? For God’s sake, John, You heard what Libby had to say, you’ve seen how it all fits perfectly with what’s happening. You need to stop this madness now, before it claims any more lives."
There was a desperation in Jack's voice that Sayid had not heard before, and it worried him. What had happened to make Jack sound so scared?
"It’s strange that you should mention God, Jack. A man of science such as yourself invoking a higher power, maybe there is hope for you yet."
Fear turned to anger, and Jack glared at Locke, his words coated in venom as he spoke.
"Don’t turn this into an argument about faith. This is about cold hard facts. People are dead, others are dying, and those that aren’t are acting crazy. You know as well as I do that this all started when we blew open the damned hatch and started eating the food from the supply cupboard."
Locke shook his head as though he couldn't believe what Jack was saying.
"But you see, Jack, this is an argument about faith. You have faith in Libby's theory that there is some kind of poison in the bread for the simple reason that you cannot find a way to help those who have fallen ill. You have to put a name to your failure, give it a solid cause, so that you can understand it and cope with it. I, however, have faith. In fate, in the island, in the idea that everything happens for a reason and that something good will come out of all of this."
Locke's tone was placatory, as though he were trying to calm Jack with his words. But it did no good, Sayid could see how Jack was barely controlling his anger as he ran a hand over his head and asked in a quiet but forceful voice:
"What about Hurley, Locke? What good came of his death?"
Sayid expected to see Locke look as upset as he himself felt on hearing of Hurley’s death, but instead, Locke smiled. He actually looked happy to discuss the subject.
"Hurley found peace in death. He died because he chose to. He could no longer live with the way that the curse he lived under was affecting those that he cared about. Good will come from his death and we thank him for his sacrifice."
Locke's band of followers - as Sayid had now realised they were - once again nodded and muttered amongst themselves at Locke's words. Sayid wasn't sure if it was this or just Locke's tone that sent Jack over the edge, but whichever it was the effect was dramatic. Jack gave up on his efforts to remain calm and launched himself at Locke, shouting his words into Locke’s face. Locke's face that remained calm and untroubled during the entire onslaught.
"Hurley died because you killed him. He died because there was something in the bread that fed into the delusions that he was already suffering from before we crashed on the Godforsaken island. That's why he died, not because he was sacrificing himself for the good of those around him."
For the first time since Sayid had been watching them argue, Locke's face showed an emotion other than faint amusement. Locke’s eyes narrowed and he moved closer to Jack, his voice gaining a steely edge.
"Who are you to decide whether someone's intentions are honourable or not, Jack? You said it yourself, this island is Godforsaken, Hurley is no longer trapped here like the rest of us, he is free now. Why would you want to deny him that?"
Jack's shoulder’s slumped and he looked down at the ground.
"Because I could have saved him, Locke. I could have saved him."
Sayid felt a wave of sympathy for Jack, he knew how hard Jack had taken not being able to heal Boone when he had been injured. He couldn’t imagine how Jack was feeling if things were as bad as they seemed to be.
"But could you, Jack? If we are all suffering from this illness that you say we are, do you have what you need to treat us? Can you save us from it? We both know that you haven’t and you can’t. You have done so much for all of us already and we are all grateful for that, but it’s time for you to step aside and let someone else make the decisions."
Jack made no attempt to keep the sarcasm from his voice when he replied.
"And I suppose that someone would be you, would it, Locke?"
A few people in the crowd shouted out "Yes." in answer to Jack's question and once again Locke had to hold up a hand to quieten them down before he answered for himself.
"If that is the will of the people, then, yes I will make the decisions. But not alone, Jack, I will have others to help me, Kate and Sawyer for example."
"Kate?" Jack sounded incredulous, "She's a babbling psychopath. She spends her days talking to horses that aren’t there and accusing people of crimes that they haven't committed. Sawyer isn’t much better. How long do you think it will be before one of them snaps and kills again, Locke? You know what they’ve done so far. The evidence of it is hanging in the jungle for all to see."
Jack’s words hit Sayid like a blow to the head. Kate and Sawyer were responsible for what he had seen in the jungle? Kate and Sawyer had killed those people? Sayid was now desperate for answers, what had happened to make all this madness take place?
"John, please, be reasonable." Jack was calmer now, his anger spent, his tone less forceful, "There is a problem here and you can fix it. Just stop giving people the bread for a few days and see if things get better, see if all this insanity stops."
Locke pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow, staring deeply at Jack before answering with a shake of his head.
"I think that is jealousy talking again, Jack. You are jealous because Kate chose Sawyer over you, she told us about how you kissed her, how you tried to force yourself on her. You need to look deep inside yourself and accept the truth. There is nothing wrong with the bread. The island is just showing us all who we really are, who we were meant to be. This all started long before we opened the hatch. You saw your father, your dead father, you told me yourself. He led you to this place so that we could have fresh drinking water and shelter. How do you explain that? And, how do you explain how Desmond survived for so long if he was eating food that was so harmful?"
Jack took a step closer to Locke, one hand forming into a fist as though he were about to strike him. Sayid was surprised by the tone of Jack's voice; there was a violence to it that Sayid had not heard from Jack before.
"When I saw my father, I was suffering from stress and sleep deprivation. I may even have had a minor head injury because of the crash. It was an hallucination and nothing more, it was not the island revealing something to me. Finding the caves was a coincidence. And as for Desmond, can you honestly say that he struck you as a well-balanced person? He was virtually psychotic when we met him and we have no idea how his partner died. It could have been the food, we don’t know. All I am asking for is for you to put some of your faith in me and do as I ask."
"Like you put so much faith in me? I don't think so, Jack."
And with those words Locke turned and walked away, followed by his band of supporters leaving Jack alone and dejected. Sayid could see defeat in Jack's posture, in the slump of his shoulders and the heaviness of his footsteps as he made his way to the cave that had served as a hospital for so many. Sayid was about to leave his hiding place and join Jack, ask him to explain just exactly what had been happening when he heard a rustling in the foliage to his left and he froze, his hand returning to the gun in the waistband of his trousers.
He heard muttered swearing as the branches parted and then Charlie stepped into view, his face first registering shock at the sight of Sayid, then breaking into a huge grin as he ran over and Sayid found himself being drawn into a hug. Sayid felt some of the tension drain away as he listened to Charlie babble excitedly about him being back: it seemed that not everyone had changed whilst he had been away.
"Sayid, God am I glad to see you. It’s all gone a bit pear-shaped around here; they've all gone bloody nuts. But you’re back now and you can do something about it, you are going to do something about it, aren’t you?"
Charlie was looking at him with a mixture of hope and worry, his head cocked slightly to one side, brow furrowed in concentration. Sayid wished that he could tell Charlie that he was going to make everything alright, but, he needed to know just what had happened before he could make such rash statements.
"It is good to see you as well, Charlie. Now please, tell me what has happened while I have been away."
Charlie looked away, staring down at his feet. When he looked up again, the hope was gone, replaced by a look that Sayid knew only too well, the look of one who has seen too much.
"It started a few days ago, people acting funny, accusing each other of all kinds of things. Then people started to get sick, headaches, fits, throwing up a lot. Jack didn’t know what was causing it and couldn’t make it stop. It was fucking frightening." Charlie paused for a moment, scratching his head with a faraway look in his eyes as he forced himself to remember, "Then Locke starts going on about the island being alive and testing us and, well, people believed him. If you ask me, they’re all sodding insane. Crazy, the lot of them. Did you see the bodies in the jungle?"
Sayid nodded his head to confirm that he had but didn’t say anything, he didn't want to interrupt Charlie.
"Kate did that, Kate and Sawyer. Fucking nuts, the pair of them. They keep going on about horses and people they’ve killed being here on the island. After they killed Ana-Lucia, that Eko guy decided he couldn’t stay here anymore so he left, took a lot of people with him too. Can’t say that I blame them for leaving, I would have left too..."
Charlie paused again, looking down at his feet once more.
"Why did you stay here, Charlie? Why did you not leave when you had the chance?"
Charlie raised his head and Sayid could see pain and worry written in his features.
"Claire. Claire didn’t want to leave. She believes in all that new age shit, you know. Bit of a hippy I suppose. She thinks that what Locke says makes sense and..." Charlie’s shoulders slumped in defeat, "I promised to look after her and Aaron, said I wouldn’t let anything happen to them... again."
Words failed Charlie and Sayid was overcome with sorrow for this man who refused to save himself because of a promise to another. He reached out a hand and laid it on Charlie's shoulder, trying to offer him some comfort as he continued with his questioning.
"Just now, when he was talking to Locke, Jack kept mentioning bread and something Libby had said. Do you know what he was talking about?"
Charlie shook his head and looked apologetic
"I've got no sodding idea. No one tells me anything around here, you should know that by now."
Charlie smiled ruefully and Sayid couldn't help but smile back. Tilting his head to one side slightly as he replied. "I should have remembered that, I will go and ask Jack. Try not to worry, Charlie. I will do my best to set things right."
Charlie smiled again but did not say anything more. Sayid got the sense that, whilst Charlie wanted to believe that he could fix things, he couldn't quite manage it and, he had to agree with the sentiment. Charlie turned to leave, saying something about Claire needing him before he pushed his way back into the jungle, Sayid watched him go, once again feeling sorrow for the sacrifice that Charlie had made in order to keep a promise.
Sayid shook his head to clear it, he had more important things to think about than Charlie. Jack, for example, and the knowledge that he had to share. Sayid looked over at the caves, Jack seemed to be frantically searching for something, he was throwing things about with no care for the damage he caused. Sayid paused for a moment before moving to join him, the frantic behaviour was so unlike Jack, he was normally so methodical - even in the midst of a crisis.
"Jack, what’s wrong? What are you looking for?"
Jack jumped at the sound of his voice and spun around to face him, eyes wide, voice betraying the panic he was suffering from.
"Have you got the gun I gave you?"
Sayid stopped walking and stared at Jack in surprise.
"Yes, I do, but why do you want to know?"
Jack surged towards him with one hand outstretched, and Sayid involuntarily took a step back to keep the distance between them the same.
"He has to be stopped. I have to do something to end this. Give me the gun, Sayid."
Sayid took more steps backwards; there was something about the tone of Jack's voice that worried him. There was violence just below the surface of it, just as there had been when Jack was talking to Locke. Sayid held his hands up in front of himself in an attempt to halt Jack's progress, making sure that his voice was calm and non-threatening when he spoke.
"Who has to be stopped, Jack? What do you intend to do?"
Jack looked at him as though he was the one who was acting out of character, his features creasing in confusion as he spoke.
"Locke needs to be stopped, this is all his fault. He wouldn't listen to Libby, he won't listen to me. He'll only listen to the damn island and he is the only one who thinks it can talk."
Jack was pacing again now, back and forth, over and over, like a caged animal. Sayid could feel the tension coming off him in waves and it chilled him to the core.
"Jack, please calm down. You need to explain to me what exactly is going on. What did Libby say that Locke wouldn’t listen to? Why are people killing each other and why are you talking about killing Locke."
Jack stopped pacing and spun around to face him and, for a second, Sayid thought that Jack was going to hit him. But then the anger drained from Jack's features and he seemed to calm down. Sayid watched as Jack rolled his head from side to side as if to fix a crook in his neck before he started to speak again in a voice much calmer than before.
"Do you remember when we found the storeroom in the hatch, all that food, it was like paradise."
Sayid smiled at the memory and nodded for Jack to continue.
"Do you remember as well that we found a whole stack of bags of Rye flour and how Rose taught everyone to make bread so that we would have something to do to pass the time in-between pushing that damned button?"
Sayid nodded again, happy just to listen while Jack remained calm.
"Well that flour is killing us. There is something wrong with it, it's infected with a thing called Ergot, or, at least, that's what Libby thought. She said that all the symptoms that people were exhibiting were the same as Ergotism, the sickness that Ergot causes. She studied it at college, mass hysteria was her specialist subject. When she mentioned it, it made me remember something from Med School. Made me realise that she was right. Ergot acts like a drug, like LSD, it causes hallucinations, psychosis, mania, along with a whole bunch of physical symptoms. It makes people see things that are there, believe things that aren't real. That's what happening here, that's what Locke won't accept. He thinks that the damned island is causing all of this, that it’s a sign that he was right, that the island is a living thing and..."
Jack's voice trailed off and he collapsed into a heap on the ground, head in his hands, shoulders heaving as he broke down.
"I can't make him see reason, Sayid. He won't listen, he just keeps on making promises to people, preaching his gospel and handing out bread like it's some kind of sacred offering. We have to stop him before it's too late, before more people die."
Jack looked up again and Sayid was taken aback by the look of grim determination on his face. Clearly Jack meant to go through with his threat to kill Locke and he wasn't too likely to listen to reason. Sayid tried to think of something to say, anything to dissuade Jack from his plan. He knew the danger in giving Jack the gun, he had seen the way the crowd responded to Locke, how they hung on his every word. If Jack killed him now, Locke would become a martyr, even more powerful in death than he was in life. And there was no doubt in Sayid’s mind that the crowd would take vengeance on anyone who harmed Locke. If what Jack said about this Ergot was true then there was no one left who would be thinking clearly, except Sayid himself.
"Listen to me, Jack. I understand what you are saying but I need you to think for a moment. Did you eat any of the bread?"
Jack closed his eyes and nodded his head.
"Do you not think then that you might too be suffering from this sickness that you describe. Can you not see that your behaviour is a little extreme, as a doctor you made an oath to heal people, not kill them. Hear me when I say that killing Locke will not solve anything, it will make matters worse. Allow me to try and talk to him instead, try and reason with him, make him listen."
Sayid waited, staring intently at Jack, willing him to agree. Finally, he got the response that he was looking for. Jack stood up and motioned for Sayid to follow him and together they made their way to the hatch, and to Locke.
Things happened so fast when they got there that Sayid couldn’t tell exactly what had occurred. On arrival, they found Locke passing out freshly baked loaves of bread and the sight of it made something snap in Jack. Sayid found himself pushed to the ground as Jack snatched the gun from his waistband. From his sprawled position, he watched in horror as Jack ran towards Locke screaming "Stop." at the top of his voice, waving the gun in the air. Sayid saw Locke look up and see Jack, but, instead of pulling back in fear, Locke just smiled as though he somehow knew that this was coming. A shot rang out, the sound of it echoing through the clearing and Sayid looked at Locke expecting to see him slump to the ground. But he didn't.
Locke was unhurt, it was Jack who fell forward, a crimson stain blossoming across his back marking the point where the bullet impacted. People began to scream and run in panic but Locke just stood in the midst of the chaos, eyes trained on Jack as he watched him take his last breath. Jack's blood splattered across his face, making him look all the more terrifying as he smiled before holding his hands up to calm people down. Sayid pulled himself up and made to move to the spot where Jack's body lay, but, before he could take a step, he felt a sharp pain as something hard struck the back of his head, and the world turned to black.
Sayid awoke to darkness and disorientation, his head spinning and pain radiating in waves from the back of his head. He tried to raise a hand to assess the damage but, his hands were securely bound behind his back. His feet were tied too, leaving him unable to move. Taking deep breaths to stem the panic that was rising inside of him, he attempted to work out where he was and how long he had been here. But without light to aid him, and with no means to measure time, it was impossible. Instinct told him that he was somewhere in the hatch, probably in one of the maintenance tunnels. The air that surrounded him seemed filled with dust and stale. This piece of knowledge helped to calm him a little and he concentrated on that, knowing from experience that fear gave his captors power and they already had enough of that. The pain in his head was getting worse and he realised that he could feel blood slowly trickling down his neck. Sayid fought to stay awake, knowing that if he fell asleep he might not awake again but the pull of the blackness was too strong and he didn’t have the strength to fight it.
"Sayid, wake up. Please wake up."
Frantic whispering and a faint light pulled Sayid from dreams of chaos and destruction. He tried to speak, to answer the voice that called to him but all that came out was a strangled groan. It was enough to alert the owner of the voice to the fact that he was awake and he found himself blinking into the bright light of a torch and seeing Charlie’s worried face being illuminated by its glow.
"You’re awake. Good, that’s good. Can you stand? We need to get the hell out of here."
Sayid felt a hand dragging at his arm and he realised that his hands and feet were free. He stood up shakily, swaying as fresh waves of pain made pinpoints of light swim across his vision. Charlie must have seen how unsteady he was as. Sayid felt an arm loop around his waist and he was vaguely aware of Charlie urging him to lean on him as he guided them to the door.
"We have to get out of here. Locke's telling people that you were responsible for Boone's death, that somehow, the island knew that you wanted Shannon, so it killed Boone to clear the way for you. It's fucking crazy."
Sayid tried to absorb what Charlie was telling him but it all seemed like it was happening from a great distance and he was having problems forming words to speak in reply. Charlie didn’t appear to be having the same problem.
"The worst thing is that everyone believes him, they’re howling for your blood. They want you to stand trial for Boone’s murder and if that goes like all the other trials they’ve had… let’s just say that you probably would only have a few hours left to live if I left you here."
Sayid shook his head to try and clear some of the fuzz from his brain but, all the movement served to do was create even more waves of pain, and he groaned again as his legs buckled under him. He heard Charlie swear and was dimly aware of being half carried, half dragged along as most of their journey from the hatch passed in a blur of pain and dizziness.
He came to again with the feel of fresh air surrounding him, and found that he felt strong enough to gage his surroundings. They were in a clearing, Charlie sat hunched over to the side of him, cradling a bundle of cloth in his arms and singing softly to it. There was a water bottle lying between them and Sayid reached for it, raising it to his lips and gulping greedily at the contents. When he had quenched his thirst he looked over at Charlie again, trying to summon up the strength to speak.
"Charlie, why are you helping me? What about Claire and the baby, I thought you said you were staying with them."
Charlie stopped singing and looked up, his face filled with sorrow, his voice so quiet that Sayid had to strain to hear it.
"Claires sick. She has what all the people who died had. I don’t think that there is anything that can be done to save her now."
Sayid closed his eyes and sighed, he knew only too well what it was like to lose someone you cared about. Sympathy filled him and he tried to think of the right thing to say.
"I'm sorry for that, Charlie. It must be hard for you. I know how much Claire and Aaron mean to you. But, why did you decide to free me, surely I will just slow you down if you intend to find Eko and the other survivors who left."
Charlie frowned and shook his head.
"That's not where we are going. I want to find Danielle. I figure that if she was so keen to steal Aaron before, then maybe she will help me look after him now, raise him as her own or something. I need you to be with me because, well, the last time we met Danielle I said some very nasty things to her. Called her a few choice names. She seems to like you so I thought, if you were with me, she would be more likely to listen to what I have to say."
Charlie shrugged his shoulders apologetically before continuing.
"And anyway, I couldn't leave you to be killed by Locke and his bunch of nutters now, could I?"
Charlie grinned lopsidedly at him and lifted up the bundle in his arms to reveal Aaron sleeping soundly inside. He gently picked up one of Aaron’s hands and made it look as though he were waving at Sayid, and for the first time since arriving back at the camp, Sayid felt some kind of hope and he allowed himself to smile back.
"Thank you, Charlie. I am in your debt. I will try and smooth things over between you and Danielle when we find her."
Charlie grinned again and then pushed himself to his feet, gesturing for Sayid to do the same.
"Come on, we are nearly at the last place that Danielle was seen in. I think she must have a camp set up around here somewhere."
With that, Charlie began to make his way through the dense jungle and Sayid was forced to move quickly to catch up.
They had been walking for a short while when Charlie suddenly halted. Sayid tensed, listening out for sounds of a person or people approaching. But he soon relaxed when he saw that Charlie had only stopped to rummage for something in the bag that he had slung over his shoulder. Charlie turned and held something out to him and Sayid stiffened when he saw what was in the outstretched hand. Bread.
"Thought you might be hungry, I stole this from the hatch before I came to find you."
Charlie seemed pleased with himself. Sayid hesitated before reaching out to take what was being offered.
"Jack told me that there was something wrong with the bread, that it was what was making people act strangely."
Charlie tilted his head to one side in a quizzical manner and then laughed before replying.
"Yeah, ok, sure. It was the bread that made people nuts. If you ask me, Jack was as bad as the rest of them. There is nothing wrong with the bread, in fact, it’s delicious."
Sayid watched as Charlie pulled more bread from his bag and took a big bite out of the piece he was holding. Prickles of fear began to dance along his spine, something was very wrong here. Sayid smiled at Charlie, not wanting to alert him to the worry he was feeling but he didn’t take a bite of his own bread. Instead he just mimed doing so, which seemed to please Charlie who, once more began to walk quickly along the now visible trail. Sayid had no choice but to follow him.
After a few more minutes the trees started to thin out, eventually ending altogether and Sayid found that Charlie had led them to a tiny clear patch on the edge of a cliff. There was something familiar about this place but just what that familiarity was, Sayid didn’t know. Until, he cautiously peered over the rim, and, he saw the ruins of an aeroplane lying far below.
Sayid turned back to ask Charlie why he had led them here but shock made his voice falter. Locke was standing by Charlie's side; one hand resting on Charlie's shoulder like a proud parent, Aaron’s sleeping form cradled in his other arm. Sayid looked at Charlie's face and what he saw there filled him with terror, it was the same calm expression that Locke wore, and Charlie's eyes were as cold and unrevealing as Locke's too. Sayid began to speak, to ask what was happening, but Locke spoke first, amusement playing in his eyes as he did.
"One of the more useful aspects of Charlie's former lifestyle is that he can lie rather convincingly. Wouldn't you agree, Sayid?"
Sayid watched in horror as Charlie grinned up at Locke before reaching into his bag and pulling out a gun.
"The island may have cured my addiction, but it didn't fix that part of me."
Sayid went to take a step back, to put some distance between himself and the two men. He felt the ground crumble beneath his shoe and knew he had reached the edge of the cliff. He had nowhere left to go. An overwhelming feeling of hopelessness filled him and Sayid realised, that he had one question left to ask.
"Why?"
Charlie raised the gun, taking careful aim, and smiled as though what he was about to do made perfect sense.
"Claires sick. The island needs a sacrifice to keep her alive."
The noise of the gun firing was the last sound that Sayid ever heard.
Fandom: Lost.
Characters: Sayid, Jack, Locke, Charlie and others.
Rating: Gen (as in smut free) but PG-13/R for content.
Summary: Man of science - Man of faith.
Warnings: Spoilers for Season 2. Character death. Dark themes.
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Never will.
Beta: My future wife, lillyjk
Feedback: is my drug of choice.
fanfic100 Prompt: #59 Food.
Notes: Written for the suspended_fic challenge - to take a cliché and make it interesting. My assigned cliché was "One or more characters partakes of a tasty treat which, unbeknownst to them, is laced with drugs." Massive amounts of love and thanks to the wonderful and talented lillyjk for the beta. (Sorry about the lack of sexing, babe! ;p) And thanks to halfdutch for the read through, brain storming session and encouragement, philomel for the words of wisdom and support and to alliecat8 for her insight into Kate. There is some additional information under the cut, the text of which comes from The Crucible by Arthur Miller.
Ergot: A parasitic fungus that grows on cereal crops including Rye which, when ingested by humans, causes a condition known as Ergotism. Ergot contains hallucinogens and was used in the initial synthesis of LSD.
Ergotism: the effect of exposure to Ergot, symptoms of which can include hallucinations, psychosis and mania. Ergotism has been put forward as a speculative cause for the Salem Witch Trials and is thought to be the cause of many "plagues" in Europe in the Middle Ages.
Schism
Those who survived, those few who escaped the madness and sought shelter far away from the place where it began, would say that Kate was the first to be affected. The first to show signs of the insanity that would spread until it consumed and destroyed the world that they had tried so hard to build. But Kate was not the first to be struck down. There were others before her, others whose minds were poisoned by a substance as strong as any drug that could be bought on a street corner or in the dark recesses of a club. This was a drug of nature, a simple blight - small and hard to detect but whose effects could turn the strongest of men into a weakling: lost in a world of hallucinations and mania created by toxins that built up in their bloodstream until madness took control and rational thinking was but a memory. Kate was not the first, and she wouldn’t be the last, but she would be the one they thought of when fear made them tremble at the sound of footsteps or voices in the night. Because it was no longer strangers that they had to fear, it was themselves.
*****
Sayid stared at the ruins of the beach camp in horror. What had happened while he had been away mourning Shannon's death - fighting to control his impulse to exact vengeance on she who had caused it? There were signs of conflict all around, violence and confusion. That people had died, was shown all too clearly by drag marks stained crimson with blood, left by... by what? Animals? People? Sayid couldn’t tell. His thoughts were spinning too fast for him to make a good judgement. Whatever had happened had occurred a few days ago at least. The signal fire had long since burnt itself out and what little ash not scattered by the breeze was cold. Only a few charred branches remained where hope had once burnt bright.
Guilt began to eat at him. If he hadn't left, if he had stayed and let those around him help him with his pain instead of retreating into himself and running from them to face it alone, maybe he could have done something. Maybe he could have made a difference when this... attack? Invasion? Whatever it was had occurred. His mind created nightmarish scenes in which "The Others" crept into the camp under cover of darkness and stole away all those that they deemed worthy whilst leaving the rest for dead. Why hadn’t he been here when it happened? Why had he left, and, in doing so, left them to their fate?
But there was no time for self recriminations now, surely someone must have survived. Sayid refused to believe that everyone was gone, that he was now the lone survivor of Flight 815. He took one last look at the chaos that surrounded him and set off, at a run, for the caves.
Sayid had been a soldier; he understood the need for silence and stealth when moving about in territory that, for all he knew, now belonged to the enemy. Yet, when he came across the clearing and the horrors that it held, he could not stop the cry of shock that broke free. Sayid froze in his tracks, confusion and disgust painted across his features. There were five of them, five bodies hanging from low branches by ropes wound tightly around their necks. Their hands were bound behind their backs; their eyes open but, glassy, fixed, staring blankly into the nothingness of death. This was a site of execution, a place where judgement had been passed on those that now dwelled here. Each of them had a sign hung around their neck, attached to the noose that had taken their lives, their "crime" on show for all to see. "Adulteress" read Sun’s, Michael’s: "Wrath", "Liar" and "Thief" decorated the chests of two people that Sayid recognised but, he realised with regret, he had never taken the time to get to know and, then there was her: Ana-Lucia. Sayid paused for a second in front of the woman who had killed Shannon. "Murderer" read the sign and for just a moment Sayid found himself agreeing that she deserved this fate, deserved to have the life stolen from her just as she had stolen it from Shannon. Sayid closed his eyes and tried to fight back the feelings threatening to overwhelm him. No one deserved this fate, no matter what they had or hadn’t done, this was the work of a twisted mind not a judge and jury. Although, he realised that whoever had done this thing clearly thought of themselves in those terms.
Sayid offered up a prayer for the lost souls that surrounded him, and then turned his back on the scene. He would return later to give them all the burial that they deserved - for now, he just needed to know if anyone remained alive.
Raised voices in the distance drifted to him through the trees, and Sayid felt the first stirrings of hope since his return to the camp. But he still slowed his pace. Creeping slowly towards them; determined not to be discovered - to have the element of surprise if he needed it. His hand automatically went to the gun that Jack had given him when he left. But, even as he checked it was ready for use, he hoped that he would not have the need to use it. As he drew nearer, he recognised first Jack, then Locke as the speakers, but still he did not allow himself to move too close. The exchange sounded heated and there was a note of hysteria in Jack’s voice that worried him.
"People are dead, John. More are dying. When are you going to open your eyes and realise you are making things worse, not better?"
Sayid could see them now: Locke stood surrounded by people, calm and serene with a slight smile playing around his lips as though he were a parent trying his best to take the flight of fancy of his child seriously. Locke’s demeanour was in direct contrast to Jack's. Jack looked wild-eyed and agitated. He was pacing back and forth, shaking his head and gesturing as he spoke. Jack also looked like he hadn’t slept for days and, there was something about that idea that, strangely, made Sayid worry a little less. If Jack wasn't sleeping, then he was usually working out how to solve a crisis and Sayid had faith in Jack.
"Tell me, Jack. How can providing food for people be a bad thing? Is it because it was my idea and not yours? Ask yourself, is this jealousy talking and not rationality."
The crowd gathered around Locke murmured and nodded at his words until Locke hushed them with a raised hand, allowing Jack to be heard.
"How in the hell can you accuse me of being irrational? For God’s sake, John, You heard what Libby had to say, you’ve seen how it all fits perfectly with what’s happening. You need to stop this madness now, before it claims any more lives."
There was a desperation in Jack's voice that Sayid had not heard before, and it worried him. What had happened to make Jack sound so scared?
"It’s strange that you should mention God, Jack. A man of science such as yourself invoking a higher power, maybe there is hope for you yet."
Fear turned to anger, and Jack glared at Locke, his words coated in venom as he spoke.
"Don’t turn this into an argument about faith. This is about cold hard facts. People are dead, others are dying, and those that aren’t are acting crazy. You know as well as I do that this all started when we blew open the damned hatch and started eating the food from the supply cupboard."
Locke shook his head as though he couldn't believe what Jack was saying.
"But you see, Jack, this is an argument about faith. You have faith in Libby's theory that there is some kind of poison in the bread for the simple reason that you cannot find a way to help those who have fallen ill. You have to put a name to your failure, give it a solid cause, so that you can understand it and cope with it. I, however, have faith. In fate, in the island, in the idea that everything happens for a reason and that something good will come out of all of this."
Locke's tone was placatory, as though he were trying to calm Jack with his words. But it did no good, Sayid could see how Jack was barely controlling his anger as he ran a hand over his head and asked in a quiet but forceful voice:
"What about Hurley, Locke? What good came of his death?"
Sayid expected to see Locke look as upset as he himself felt on hearing of Hurley’s death, but instead, Locke smiled. He actually looked happy to discuss the subject.
"Hurley found peace in death. He died because he chose to. He could no longer live with the way that the curse he lived under was affecting those that he cared about. Good will come from his death and we thank him for his sacrifice."
Locke's band of followers - as Sayid had now realised they were - once again nodded and muttered amongst themselves at Locke's words. Sayid wasn't sure if it was this or just Locke's tone that sent Jack over the edge, but whichever it was the effect was dramatic. Jack gave up on his efforts to remain calm and launched himself at Locke, shouting his words into Locke’s face. Locke's face that remained calm and untroubled during the entire onslaught.
"Hurley died because you killed him. He died because there was something in the bread that fed into the delusions that he was already suffering from before we crashed on the Godforsaken island. That's why he died, not because he was sacrificing himself for the good of those around him."
For the first time since Sayid had been watching them argue, Locke's face showed an emotion other than faint amusement. Locke’s eyes narrowed and he moved closer to Jack, his voice gaining a steely edge.
"Who are you to decide whether someone's intentions are honourable or not, Jack? You said it yourself, this island is Godforsaken, Hurley is no longer trapped here like the rest of us, he is free now. Why would you want to deny him that?"
Jack's shoulder’s slumped and he looked down at the ground.
"Because I could have saved him, Locke. I could have saved him."
Sayid felt a wave of sympathy for Jack, he knew how hard Jack had taken not being able to heal Boone when he had been injured. He couldn’t imagine how Jack was feeling if things were as bad as they seemed to be.
"But could you, Jack? If we are all suffering from this illness that you say we are, do you have what you need to treat us? Can you save us from it? We both know that you haven’t and you can’t. You have done so much for all of us already and we are all grateful for that, but it’s time for you to step aside and let someone else make the decisions."
Jack made no attempt to keep the sarcasm from his voice when he replied.
"And I suppose that someone would be you, would it, Locke?"
A few people in the crowd shouted out "Yes." in answer to Jack's question and once again Locke had to hold up a hand to quieten them down before he answered for himself.
"If that is the will of the people, then, yes I will make the decisions. But not alone, Jack, I will have others to help me, Kate and Sawyer for example."
"Kate?" Jack sounded incredulous, "She's a babbling psychopath. She spends her days talking to horses that aren’t there and accusing people of crimes that they haven't committed. Sawyer isn’t much better. How long do you think it will be before one of them snaps and kills again, Locke? You know what they’ve done so far. The evidence of it is hanging in the jungle for all to see."
Jack’s words hit Sayid like a blow to the head. Kate and Sawyer were responsible for what he had seen in the jungle? Kate and Sawyer had killed those people? Sayid was now desperate for answers, what had happened to make all this madness take place?
"John, please, be reasonable." Jack was calmer now, his anger spent, his tone less forceful, "There is a problem here and you can fix it. Just stop giving people the bread for a few days and see if things get better, see if all this insanity stops."
Locke pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow, staring deeply at Jack before answering with a shake of his head.
"I think that is jealousy talking again, Jack. You are jealous because Kate chose Sawyer over you, she told us about how you kissed her, how you tried to force yourself on her. You need to look deep inside yourself and accept the truth. There is nothing wrong with the bread. The island is just showing us all who we really are, who we were meant to be. This all started long before we opened the hatch. You saw your father, your dead father, you told me yourself. He led you to this place so that we could have fresh drinking water and shelter. How do you explain that? And, how do you explain how Desmond survived for so long if he was eating food that was so harmful?"
Jack took a step closer to Locke, one hand forming into a fist as though he were about to strike him. Sayid was surprised by the tone of Jack's voice; there was a violence to it that Sayid had not heard from Jack before.
"When I saw my father, I was suffering from stress and sleep deprivation. I may even have had a minor head injury because of the crash. It was an hallucination and nothing more, it was not the island revealing something to me. Finding the caves was a coincidence. And as for Desmond, can you honestly say that he struck you as a well-balanced person? He was virtually psychotic when we met him and we have no idea how his partner died. It could have been the food, we don’t know. All I am asking for is for you to put some of your faith in me and do as I ask."
"Like you put so much faith in me? I don't think so, Jack."
And with those words Locke turned and walked away, followed by his band of supporters leaving Jack alone and dejected. Sayid could see defeat in Jack's posture, in the slump of his shoulders and the heaviness of his footsteps as he made his way to the cave that had served as a hospital for so many. Sayid was about to leave his hiding place and join Jack, ask him to explain just exactly what had been happening when he heard a rustling in the foliage to his left and he froze, his hand returning to the gun in the waistband of his trousers.
He heard muttered swearing as the branches parted and then Charlie stepped into view, his face first registering shock at the sight of Sayid, then breaking into a huge grin as he ran over and Sayid found himself being drawn into a hug. Sayid felt some of the tension drain away as he listened to Charlie babble excitedly about him being back: it seemed that not everyone had changed whilst he had been away.
"Sayid, God am I glad to see you. It’s all gone a bit pear-shaped around here; they've all gone bloody nuts. But you’re back now and you can do something about it, you are going to do something about it, aren’t you?"
Charlie was looking at him with a mixture of hope and worry, his head cocked slightly to one side, brow furrowed in concentration. Sayid wished that he could tell Charlie that he was going to make everything alright, but, he needed to know just what had happened before he could make such rash statements.
"It is good to see you as well, Charlie. Now please, tell me what has happened while I have been away."
Charlie looked away, staring down at his feet. When he looked up again, the hope was gone, replaced by a look that Sayid knew only too well, the look of one who has seen too much.
"It started a few days ago, people acting funny, accusing each other of all kinds of things. Then people started to get sick, headaches, fits, throwing up a lot. Jack didn’t know what was causing it and couldn’t make it stop. It was fucking frightening." Charlie paused for a moment, scratching his head with a faraway look in his eyes as he forced himself to remember, "Then Locke starts going on about the island being alive and testing us and, well, people believed him. If you ask me, they’re all sodding insane. Crazy, the lot of them. Did you see the bodies in the jungle?"
Sayid nodded his head to confirm that he had but didn’t say anything, he didn't want to interrupt Charlie.
"Kate did that, Kate and Sawyer. Fucking nuts, the pair of them. They keep going on about horses and people they’ve killed being here on the island. After they killed Ana-Lucia, that Eko guy decided he couldn’t stay here anymore so he left, took a lot of people with him too. Can’t say that I blame them for leaving, I would have left too..."
Charlie paused again, looking down at his feet once more.
"Why did you stay here, Charlie? Why did you not leave when you had the chance?"
Charlie raised his head and Sayid could see pain and worry written in his features.
"Claire. Claire didn’t want to leave. She believes in all that new age shit, you know. Bit of a hippy I suppose. She thinks that what Locke says makes sense and..." Charlie’s shoulders slumped in defeat, "I promised to look after her and Aaron, said I wouldn’t let anything happen to them... again."
Words failed Charlie and Sayid was overcome with sorrow for this man who refused to save himself because of a promise to another. He reached out a hand and laid it on Charlie's shoulder, trying to offer him some comfort as he continued with his questioning.
"Just now, when he was talking to Locke, Jack kept mentioning bread and something Libby had said. Do you know what he was talking about?"
Charlie shook his head and looked apologetic
"I've got no sodding idea. No one tells me anything around here, you should know that by now."
Charlie smiled ruefully and Sayid couldn't help but smile back. Tilting his head to one side slightly as he replied. "I should have remembered that, I will go and ask Jack. Try not to worry, Charlie. I will do my best to set things right."
Charlie smiled again but did not say anything more. Sayid got the sense that, whilst Charlie wanted to believe that he could fix things, he couldn't quite manage it and, he had to agree with the sentiment. Charlie turned to leave, saying something about Claire needing him before he pushed his way back into the jungle, Sayid watched him go, once again feeling sorrow for the sacrifice that Charlie had made in order to keep a promise.
Sayid shook his head to clear it, he had more important things to think about than Charlie. Jack, for example, and the knowledge that he had to share. Sayid looked over at the caves, Jack seemed to be frantically searching for something, he was throwing things about with no care for the damage he caused. Sayid paused for a moment before moving to join him, the frantic behaviour was so unlike Jack, he was normally so methodical - even in the midst of a crisis.
"Jack, what’s wrong? What are you looking for?"
Jack jumped at the sound of his voice and spun around to face him, eyes wide, voice betraying the panic he was suffering from.
"Have you got the gun I gave you?"
Sayid stopped walking and stared at Jack in surprise.
"Yes, I do, but why do you want to know?"
Jack surged towards him with one hand outstretched, and Sayid involuntarily took a step back to keep the distance between them the same.
"He has to be stopped. I have to do something to end this. Give me the gun, Sayid."
Sayid took more steps backwards; there was something about the tone of Jack's voice that worried him. There was violence just below the surface of it, just as there had been when Jack was talking to Locke. Sayid held his hands up in front of himself in an attempt to halt Jack's progress, making sure that his voice was calm and non-threatening when he spoke.
"Who has to be stopped, Jack? What do you intend to do?"
Jack looked at him as though he was the one who was acting out of character, his features creasing in confusion as he spoke.
"Locke needs to be stopped, this is all his fault. He wouldn't listen to Libby, he won't listen to me. He'll only listen to the damn island and he is the only one who thinks it can talk."
Jack was pacing again now, back and forth, over and over, like a caged animal. Sayid could feel the tension coming off him in waves and it chilled him to the core.
"Jack, please calm down. You need to explain to me what exactly is going on. What did Libby say that Locke wouldn’t listen to? Why are people killing each other and why are you talking about killing Locke."
Jack stopped pacing and spun around to face him and, for a second, Sayid thought that Jack was going to hit him. But then the anger drained from Jack's features and he seemed to calm down. Sayid watched as Jack rolled his head from side to side as if to fix a crook in his neck before he started to speak again in a voice much calmer than before.
"Do you remember when we found the storeroom in the hatch, all that food, it was like paradise."
Sayid smiled at the memory and nodded for Jack to continue.
"Do you remember as well that we found a whole stack of bags of Rye flour and how Rose taught everyone to make bread so that we would have something to do to pass the time in-between pushing that damned button?"
Sayid nodded again, happy just to listen while Jack remained calm.
"Well that flour is killing us. There is something wrong with it, it's infected with a thing called Ergot, or, at least, that's what Libby thought. She said that all the symptoms that people were exhibiting were the same as Ergotism, the sickness that Ergot causes. She studied it at college, mass hysteria was her specialist subject. When she mentioned it, it made me remember something from Med School. Made me realise that she was right. Ergot acts like a drug, like LSD, it causes hallucinations, psychosis, mania, along with a whole bunch of physical symptoms. It makes people see things that are there, believe things that aren't real. That's what happening here, that's what Locke won't accept. He thinks that the damned island is causing all of this, that it’s a sign that he was right, that the island is a living thing and..."
Jack's voice trailed off and he collapsed into a heap on the ground, head in his hands, shoulders heaving as he broke down.
"I can't make him see reason, Sayid. He won't listen, he just keeps on making promises to people, preaching his gospel and handing out bread like it's some kind of sacred offering. We have to stop him before it's too late, before more people die."
Jack looked up again and Sayid was taken aback by the look of grim determination on his face. Clearly Jack meant to go through with his threat to kill Locke and he wasn't too likely to listen to reason. Sayid tried to think of something to say, anything to dissuade Jack from his plan. He knew the danger in giving Jack the gun, he had seen the way the crowd responded to Locke, how they hung on his every word. If Jack killed him now, Locke would become a martyr, even more powerful in death than he was in life. And there was no doubt in Sayid’s mind that the crowd would take vengeance on anyone who harmed Locke. If what Jack said about this Ergot was true then there was no one left who would be thinking clearly, except Sayid himself.
"Listen to me, Jack. I understand what you are saying but I need you to think for a moment. Did you eat any of the bread?"
Jack closed his eyes and nodded his head.
"Do you not think then that you might too be suffering from this sickness that you describe. Can you not see that your behaviour is a little extreme, as a doctor you made an oath to heal people, not kill them. Hear me when I say that killing Locke will not solve anything, it will make matters worse. Allow me to try and talk to him instead, try and reason with him, make him listen."
Sayid waited, staring intently at Jack, willing him to agree. Finally, he got the response that he was looking for. Jack stood up and motioned for Sayid to follow him and together they made their way to the hatch, and to Locke.
Things happened so fast when they got there that Sayid couldn’t tell exactly what had occurred. On arrival, they found Locke passing out freshly baked loaves of bread and the sight of it made something snap in Jack. Sayid found himself pushed to the ground as Jack snatched the gun from his waistband. From his sprawled position, he watched in horror as Jack ran towards Locke screaming "Stop." at the top of his voice, waving the gun in the air. Sayid saw Locke look up and see Jack, but, instead of pulling back in fear, Locke just smiled as though he somehow knew that this was coming. A shot rang out, the sound of it echoing through the clearing and Sayid looked at Locke expecting to see him slump to the ground. But he didn't.
Locke was unhurt, it was Jack who fell forward, a crimson stain blossoming across his back marking the point where the bullet impacted. People began to scream and run in panic but Locke just stood in the midst of the chaos, eyes trained on Jack as he watched him take his last breath. Jack's blood splattered across his face, making him look all the more terrifying as he smiled before holding his hands up to calm people down. Sayid pulled himself up and made to move to the spot where Jack's body lay, but, before he could take a step, he felt a sharp pain as something hard struck the back of his head, and the world turned to black.
Sayid awoke to darkness and disorientation, his head spinning and pain radiating in waves from the back of his head. He tried to raise a hand to assess the damage but, his hands were securely bound behind his back. His feet were tied too, leaving him unable to move. Taking deep breaths to stem the panic that was rising inside of him, he attempted to work out where he was and how long he had been here. But without light to aid him, and with no means to measure time, it was impossible. Instinct told him that he was somewhere in the hatch, probably in one of the maintenance tunnels. The air that surrounded him seemed filled with dust and stale. This piece of knowledge helped to calm him a little and he concentrated on that, knowing from experience that fear gave his captors power and they already had enough of that. The pain in his head was getting worse and he realised that he could feel blood slowly trickling down his neck. Sayid fought to stay awake, knowing that if he fell asleep he might not awake again but the pull of the blackness was too strong and he didn’t have the strength to fight it.
"Sayid, wake up. Please wake up."
Frantic whispering and a faint light pulled Sayid from dreams of chaos and destruction. He tried to speak, to answer the voice that called to him but all that came out was a strangled groan. It was enough to alert the owner of the voice to the fact that he was awake and he found himself blinking into the bright light of a torch and seeing Charlie’s worried face being illuminated by its glow.
"You’re awake. Good, that’s good. Can you stand? We need to get the hell out of here."
Sayid felt a hand dragging at his arm and he realised that his hands and feet were free. He stood up shakily, swaying as fresh waves of pain made pinpoints of light swim across his vision. Charlie must have seen how unsteady he was as. Sayid felt an arm loop around his waist and he was vaguely aware of Charlie urging him to lean on him as he guided them to the door.
"We have to get out of here. Locke's telling people that you were responsible for Boone's death, that somehow, the island knew that you wanted Shannon, so it killed Boone to clear the way for you. It's fucking crazy."
Sayid tried to absorb what Charlie was telling him but it all seemed like it was happening from a great distance and he was having problems forming words to speak in reply. Charlie didn’t appear to be having the same problem.
"The worst thing is that everyone believes him, they’re howling for your blood. They want you to stand trial for Boone’s murder and if that goes like all the other trials they’ve had… let’s just say that you probably would only have a few hours left to live if I left you here."
Sayid shook his head to try and clear some of the fuzz from his brain but, all the movement served to do was create even more waves of pain, and he groaned again as his legs buckled under him. He heard Charlie swear and was dimly aware of being half carried, half dragged along as most of their journey from the hatch passed in a blur of pain and dizziness.
He came to again with the feel of fresh air surrounding him, and found that he felt strong enough to gage his surroundings. They were in a clearing, Charlie sat hunched over to the side of him, cradling a bundle of cloth in his arms and singing softly to it. There was a water bottle lying between them and Sayid reached for it, raising it to his lips and gulping greedily at the contents. When he had quenched his thirst he looked over at Charlie again, trying to summon up the strength to speak.
"Charlie, why are you helping me? What about Claire and the baby, I thought you said you were staying with them."
Charlie stopped singing and looked up, his face filled with sorrow, his voice so quiet that Sayid had to strain to hear it.
"Claires sick. She has what all the people who died had. I don’t think that there is anything that can be done to save her now."
Sayid closed his eyes and sighed, he knew only too well what it was like to lose someone you cared about. Sympathy filled him and he tried to think of the right thing to say.
"I'm sorry for that, Charlie. It must be hard for you. I know how much Claire and Aaron mean to you. But, why did you decide to free me, surely I will just slow you down if you intend to find Eko and the other survivors who left."
Charlie frowned and shook his head.
"That's not where we are going. I want to find Danielle. I figure that if she was so keen to steal Aaron before, then maybe she will help me look after him now, raise him as her own or something. I need you to be with me because, well, the last time we met Danielle I said some very nasty things to her. Called her a few choice names. She seems to like you so I thought, if you were with me, she would be more likely to listen to what I have to say."
Charlie shrugged his shoulders apologetically before continuing.
"And anyway, I couldn't leave you to be killed by Locke and his bunch of nutters now, could I?"
Charlie grinned lopsidedly at him and lifted up the bundle in his arms to reveal Aaron sleeping soundly inside. He gently picked up one of Aaron’s hands and made it look as though he were waving at Sayid, and for the first time since arriving back at the camp, Sayid felt some kind of hope and he allowed himself to smile back.
"Thank you, Charlie. I am in your debt. I will try and smooth things over between you and Danielle when we find her."
Charlie grinned again and then pushed himself to his feet, gesturing for Sayid to do the same.
"Come on, we are nearly at the last place that Danielle was seen in. I think she must have a camp set up around here somewhere."
With that, Charlie began to make his way through the dense jungle and Sayid was forced to move quickly to catch up.
They had been walking for a short while when Charlie suddenly halted. Sayid tensed, listening out for sounds of a person or people approaching. But he soon relaxed when he saw that Charlie had only stopped to rummage for something in the bag that he had slung over his shoulder. Charlie turned and held something out to him and Sayid stiffened when he saw what was in the outstretched hand. Bread.
"Thought you might be hungry, I stole this from the hatch before I came to find you."
Charlie seemed pleased with himself. Sayid hesitated before reaching out to take what was being offered.
"Jack told me that there was something wrong with the bread, that it was what was making people act strangely."
Charlie tilted his head to one side in a quizzical manner and then laughed before replying.
"Yeah, ok, sure. It was the bread that made people nuts. If you ask me, Jack was as bad as the rest of them. There is nothing wrong with the bread, in fact, it’s delicious."
Sayid watched as Charlie pulled more bread from his bag and took a big bite out of the piece he was holding. Prickles of fear began to dance along his spine, something was very wrong here. Sayid smiled at Charlie, not wanting to alert him to the worry he was feeling but he didn’t take a bite of his own bread. Instead he just mimed doing so, which seemed to please Charlie who, once more began to walk quickly along the now visible trail. Sayid had no choice but to follow him.
After a few more minutes the trees started to thin out, eventually ending altogether and Sayid found that Charlie had led them to a tiny clear patch on the edge of a cliff. There was something familiar about this place but just what that familiarity was, Sayid didn’t know. Until, he cautiously peered over the rim, and, he saw the ruins of an aeroplane lying far below.
Sayid turned back to ask Charlie why he had led them here but shock made his voice falter. Locke was standing by Charlie's side; one hand resting on Charlie's shoulder like a proud parent, Aaron’s sleeping form cradled in his other arm. Sayid looked at Charlie's face and what he saw there filled him with terror, it was the same calm expression that Locke wore, and Charlie's eyes were as cold and unrevealing as Locke's too. Sayid began to speak, to ask what was happening, but Locke spoke first, amusement playing in his eyes as he did.
"One of the more useful aspects of Charlie's former lifestyle is that he can lie rather convincingly. Wouldn't you agree, Sayid?"
Sayid watched in horror as Charlie grinned up at Locke before reaching into his bag and pulling out a gun.
"The island may have cured my addiction, but it didn't fix that part of me."
Sayid went to take a step back, to put some distance between himself and the two men. He felt the ground crumble beneath his shoe and knew he had reached the edge of the cliff. He had nowhere left to go. An overwhelming feeling of hopelessness filled him and Sayid realised, that he had one question left to ask.
"Why?"
Charlie raised the gun, taking careful aim, and smiled as though what he was about to do made perfect sense.
"Claires sick. The island needs a sacrifice to keep her alive."
The noise of the gun firing was the last sound that Sayid ever heard.