Author's Note: Admittedly, these first few chapters are going to be boring. Basically, they're all just waiting to be rescued ... the story won't really pick up (well, here's hoping it does, anyway) until they begin to realize rescue isn't coming. Plus, this is getting everyone familiar with names of other major characters that will play a part aside from the Buffy gang. In addition, some lines have been taken from the Lost transcript.
Still Alive: Part 1
Jack opened his eyes, staring up at the dots of blue sky concealed by the dense foliage of what might’ve been a jungle. At the moment, he didn’t know, nor did he care as the realization slowly began to sink in that he was still alive. Carefully, Jack pushed himself up on his elbow, glancing at his surroundings for a moment. He noticed a Labrador retriever in the distance. The dog seemed to meet his gaze for a moment before it disappeared into the jungle.
Then, Jack noticed a man groaning not far away from him. Jack recognized the man from the plane – the one with the eye patch. Doctor instincts kicking in, Jack ignored any pains that might plague his body as he scrambled over to the prone figure. “Hey, you awake? Can you hear me?”
“Aw, mom, is it time for school already?” Xander muttered. Then, suddenly his eyes snapped open and he bolted upright. “Oh God, I’m dead!” He paused, looking around, and then his eye came to rest on Jack. “Is Heaven supposed to be covered with trees?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Jack grinned, glad to see Xander appeared to be okay aside from slight bruising on his face.
“But, we are dead, right? I mean, we couldn’t have survived that,” Xander reasoned, still out of sorts with everything that had happened.
“I think we just did,” Jack replied, standing. He offered his hand to Xander and dragged him to his feet. “Can you walk?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine.”
“My name’s Jack,” he offered.
“Xander,” he replied.
As the sound of screaming and chaos reached their ears, Jack and Xander made their way through the greenery until they found themselves on the white sands of a beach. Xander stared at the wreckage before him. The engines on the remainder of the plane were still spinning. So many people seemed to be running around, yelling, crying, lost in the aftermath of such trauma. As the scene unfolded before him, Xander scanned the blur of faces for Buffy, Willow, Dawn, Giles … anyone. “Buffy!” he yelled, taking off at a dead run as he noticed Buffy stumbling up the beach. He couldn’t help but see the wicked gash running along her forehead and thought for a brief moment it was a miracle she was still conscious.
Stunned, Buffy looked up as Xander approached her. “Oh God, Xander!” Buffy exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. “You’re alive, thank God!” She squeezed him tightly. She pulled away, glancing up at him. “Willow … where’s Willow? A-and Giles? Andrew and Faith? Dawn … oh God, Dawnie!” Buffy gasped as she remembered. Dawn had been in the back of the plane. “Xander, she was in the restroom. That part of the plane is … it’s gone! Dawnie’s gone!”
Xander caught Buffy before she collapsed as he grimly realized Faith had also taken a bathroom break before the plane severed and crashed. As Buffy sobbed helplessly, Xander held her protectively, tears burning his own vision. “Faith too,” Xander choked out, not even certain Buffy heard him.
“Buffy! Xander!”
Both were startled by Giles’s voice, breaking apart as he approached them. Buffy then launched herself into Giles’s embrace.
“Have you seen Willow?” Xander questioned.
“Over there,” Giles replied, waving his hand toward where most of the survivors seemed to be swarming at the moment. “She dislocated her shoulder. That man – Jack, I believe is his name – is a doctor. He’s setting it for her. Other than that, she appears fine … w-well as fine as all of us can be. Andrew is with her as well.” He paused, realizing Dawn and Faith were not with them. “W-where’s Dawn … a-and Faith?”
Buffy sobbed harder, still clinging to Giles. Xander looked at Giles, and then lowered his gaze, simply shaking his head. He couldn’t find his voice at the moment. There was just nothing to be said.
“Buffy, I …” Giles’s voice trailed off. “God, I’m so sorry.” He felt his own heart breaking at the thought of poor Dawn being ripped from the plane. And Faith … it was too much to comprehend that both of their lives could be ended so quickly when they’d survived so many other things.
Sniffling, Buffy pulled away from Giles, her eyes moving over the chaos that engulfed the beach. “There’s nothing to say,” she said dully, her instinct for helping people taking over. “We have to help.” At the moment, it was the only thing Buffy knew how to do. She couldn’t save her sister, not now. But she could do something. She had to do something before the grief swallowed her whole.
Determined to help now and grieve later, Buffy walked along the beach when she noticed a young woman – a very pregnant young woman – on her hands and knees in the sand. “Help me! Somebody, please help me!” Buffy rushed over to the woman, kneeling down beside her.
“Hey, what’s wrong? What do you need?” Buffy questioned, worry racing through her as she realized the crash may have very well killed the baby.
Sapphire blue eyes rose to meet Buffy’s. “I’m having contractions,” she whispered painfully, one hand now clutching at her swollen belly.
Giles, who had joined them and heard the woman’s words, glanced around for the doctor. He noticed him tearing off his tie and using it as tourniquet for a man whose leg had apparently been crushed beneath a piece of metal near the spinning engines. The leg was bleeding badly, but the doctor appeared to have the situation at hand. The man would likely be fine. “Jack!” Giles called to him. When he caught Jack’s attention, Giles motioned to the pregnant woman.
Jack nodded, turning briefly back to the group of men who had helped lift the metal debris off the injured man’s leg. “Get him out of here. Get him away from the engine.” Jack stood and joined Giles and Buffy.
“I’m having contractions,” the woman repeated to the newcomer.
“How many months pregnant are you?” Jack questioned.
“Almost eight,” she replied weakly.
For a moment, Jack glanced around at the chaos and wreckage surrounding them when he noticed Boone giving CPR to Rose, the woman who had been seated beside Jack in the plane. Turning his attention back to the pregnant woman, Jack continued, “How far apart are the contractions?”
“I – I don’t know. A few just happened.”
Before Jack could respond, he heard someone yelling out, “Hey – hey get away from there!” He glanced behind him to see a man walking in front of the still spinning engine. He was sucked inside the churning blades, and the engine exploded, sending Jack on top of the pregnant woman in an effort to protect her from any debris that might fly their way.
“My God,” Giles breathed, aghast by the horror of the situation engulfing them.
“Look,” Jack began, turning his attention back to the woman, “you’re going to be okay. But you have to sit absolutely still.” He looked back at Boone still attempting mouth to mouth resuscitation on Rose. Looking up at Giles and Xander, who had just run over to the group, Jack said quickly, “I need you to get this woman away from the fumes. Take her over there and stay with her. If her contractions occur any closer than three minutes apart, call me.”
Giles and Xander both nodded, helping the woman out of the way as Buffy began to search for Willow and Andrew. Meanwhile, Jack hurried over to Boone and Rose.
“Willow!” Buffy exclaimed, seeing her and Andrew blessedly unhurt by the explosion. As she ran toward them, she heard the screeching sound of metal and glanced up to see the wing of the plane on top of the wreckage start to wobble. She ran over to Willow and Andrew who were standing directly below it. “Move, move, move!” she yelled. “It’s going to fall!” She grabbed Willow as the three of them took off just before another explosion rocked the beach, sending all of them to the ground as burning debris flew about.
Pushing herself up, Buffy glanced around at the chaos. In all her years as a slayer, she’d never seen anything quite like it – not even inside the Hellmouth. Willow and Andrew scrambled to their feet; Buffy helped a young, blonde man up who appeared to be in a state of shock. Finally, the blonde man looked at her. “Thanks,” he whispered.
“No problem,” Buffy replied. Buffy looked around for a moment, noticing Jack now giving CPR to Rose. The poor man was going to need help. As a doctor, everyone was going to be looking to him for guidance since he was the only one who would know what to do with so many injuries. Glancing back at a very shaken and pale Willow (not to mention, Andrew looked as if he were going to be ill), Buffy turned her attention to the blonde man again, who now appeared to be slightly more calm than her friends. “Hey, can you stay with them?” Buffy said, nodding toward Willow and Andrew. “I’m going to help the doctor – see if he needs anything.”
“Yeah, sure, no problem.”
“Thanks.” Buffy was about to walk away when she turned back to the man. “I’m sorry, what’s your name?”
“Charlie.”
“I’m Buffy. Hey, thanks again.” Buffy stopped when she noticed Jack was no longer with Rose. Instead, Boone was kneeling down beside the woman who appeared to be fine now as she was sitting up, her hand flying up to the necklace she wore, grasping at the pendant and clutching it tightly. Looking around the beach, Buffy saw Jack stumbling over to a semi deserted stretch, carrying something with him. She headed over to him.
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Jack pulled off his shirt and jacket, wincing at the pain that sliced through him. A large strip of his flesh had been split open on his side, and he knew he needed to sew it up. He rummaged about the box in front of him, pulling out a needle and thread. At least someone had thought to bring a sewing kit on board, and at least it hadn’t been destroyed. But damn, he wasn’t going to be able to close the wound himself. He couldn’t reach it. Jack glanced up as a slim, attractive woman with long dark hair walked by, apparently in a daze as she rubbed absently at her wrists.
“Excuse me. Did you ever use a needle?”
“What?”
“Did you ever patch a pair of jeans or something?”
“I, um, made the drapes in my apartment.”
“That’s great. Listen, do you have a second? I could use some help,” Jack said.
“Help with what?”
Jack showed her the wound just as Buffy joined them. The dark haired woman grimaced at the sight of all the blood. “I’d do it myself,” Jack explained. “I’m a doctor, but I can’t reach it.”
“You want me to sew that up?” the woman asked incredulously.
“It’s just like the drapes – same thing.”
“Uh, I used a sewing machine for that.”
“I’ll do it,” Buffy offered, noticing that the woman appeared hesitant at the idea of “sewing” another person’s flesh. It wasn’t as if Buffy claimed to be Martha Stewart, but she had a good enough idea about injuries, stitches, and broken bones. Plus, she wasn’t squeamish at the sight of blood.
“I – I’m sorry,” the woman apologized, looking embarrassed. “It’s just … it’s just I’ve never done anything like that, and I wouldn’t want to mess it up.”
“It’s okay …?” Buffy trailed off, realizing she didn’t know the woman’s name, though she recalled seeing her briefly on the plane while she and another man she was apparently with in some capacity were boarding.
“Kate. My name’s Kate,” she replied.
“Buffy,” she responded as she began looking through the color choices of thread. “Any color preference?”
Jack grinned at her small attempt at humor. “Standard black is fine,” he replied. Buffy pulled out the spool and cut a piece off. As she concentrated on threading the needle, Jack continued, “Not to be mean, but Buffy’s an odd name. How’d you come by that?”
Buffy shrugged as she pulled the thread through the needle. “My full name is Elizabeth, but I haven’t been called that since I was like two. I think it had something to do with my cousin not being able to say ‘Elizabeth,’ and ‘Buffy’ came out instead. My mom liked it, I guess.”
Jack reached over and grabbed his jacket, pulling out the bottle of liquor that was blessedly still in tact. He handed it to Kate. “Here, can you pour this on the wound?”
“That, I can handle,” Kate replied, kneeling down beside him and unscrewing the lid. She poured a healthy splash on the bleeding wound, feeling bad as Jack winced as the liquid burned. “Sorry,” she murmured.
“No, its fine – not your fault,” Jack said. “Vodka is the next best thing to peroxide, I guess.”
Kate turned away as Buffy began to stitch the flesh closed. “So, uh, how long do you think it’ll take before the rescue planes come?”
Buffy realized she was trying to take Jack’s mind off of the pain, though she couldn’t help but notice the nervousness underlying Kate’s voice. And, in Buffy’s interpretation, it didn’t sound like she was worried rescuers wouldn’t come. It sounded more like she was worried they would come.
Jack shook his head. “It’s hard to say. We might be here a few days. There should be enough food and water left in the wreckage to see us through.” He paused, glancing out toward the wreckage and the people. “Looks like they’re trying to build a fire for the rescue planes to see,” he commented.
“All done,” Buffy announced, cutting the thread. “Doesn’t look too bad. I think you’ll be all right,” she continued.
“Hey, thanks. Really.”
“No problem,” Buffy said. She noticed Kate rubbing her wrists absently, and then she saw the chafed, red skin that appeared to make almost a complete circle around each of her wrists. Well, that seemed odd. But then, everyone had all kinds of assorted injuries right about now. What the hell else could be expected? It was a miracle they were all still alive.
Buffy had almost forgotten about her own injury when Jack reached up a hand to inspect it. “That looks bad,” he stated. “It might need stitch …” Jack’s voice trailed off as he noticed the wound appeared to be healing right before his eyes. He blinked, certain he couldn’t be seeing what he thought he was seeing.
Shrugging away from his touch, Buffy quickly stood. “Its fine – I’ll be fine. I’m a fast healer.”
“Yeah,” Jack said slowly, also coming to his feet. “I’m seeing that.”
“So, hey, I’m gonna go see if I can help out with anything over there,” Buffy said quickly, ready to escape his scrutinizing gaze even as she felt the torn skin on her forehead beginning to close. Damn, anyone would notice it didn’t seem natural. But this guy was a doctor. He would know it wasn’t normal.
Turning, Buffy headed for the beach, leaving a dumbfounded Jack behind. “She seemed kinda jumpy,” Kate offered. “I hope she’s okay.”
“Did you see that?”
“See what?” Kate asked.
“The cut on her forehead?”
“Yeah. It looked bad. She probably should’ve had you stitch it up,” Kate said.
“But it was healing. I mean, I was looking at her for the space of a minute, and it was actually healing.”
“Huh?” Kate questioned, confused even as she wondered if maybe the doctor had taken a hit on the head. He wasn’t really making sense.
“It’s not natural,” Jack murmured. “I’ve never seen anyone heal that fast. At this rate, that bruise is going to be closed up by tomorrow – tonight even. It’s just not … natural.”
“Maybe you ought to sit down for a few minutes,” Kate suggested, worry creasing her forehead.
Jack glanced over at her. “I’ll be fine. I need to check out everyone else – make sure they’re okay.”
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As Buffy made her way back to the center of activity, she noticed the guy – Sawyer – in the distance, lighting a cigarette. Oddly, for a moment, she saw Spike. God, she missed him. It had been several months since he gave his life to close Sunnydale’s Hellmouth permanently, but she still wasn’t completely over losing him. He’d understood her in a way very few people did, and she missed his companionship.
She was interrupted by her thoughts when Boone, fiddling around with his cell phone, didn’t notice her standing in front of him. He ran into her. “Hey, sorry,” he apologized, reaching out to grasp her by the shoulders before she stumbled backward and fell. “I wasn’t paying attention,” he added sheepishly.
Buffy glanced down at his cell phone, suddenly wondering why she hadn’t thought of using hers. “Any luck with that?” Buffy questioned hopefully. Maybe rescue would come a lot sooner than they all thought.
Dejectedly, Boone shook his head. “No. I can’t get a damn signal. And I thought Verizon was supposed to work everywhere,” he joked in an attempt to keep from sounding horribly disappointed. “I’m Boone, by the way.”
“Buffy,” she replied, wondering how many times she was going to have to introduce herself. Well, considering there were maybe forty or fifty other survivors, she’d probably be doing it a lot if the rescue planes didn’t show up in the next ten minutes.
“Hey, you’re with that British guy, aren’t you?” Boone asked. “I saw you hugging him earlier. Um, he was next to my sister and me on the plane. Is he your dad or something?”
“Giles? No, definitely not. He’s my …” - Buffy stopped herself before she instinctively said ‘Watcher’ – “a good friend. So I guess you met Andrew too, huh?”
“The one who kept talking about Lord of the Rings?” Boone offered.
Buffy laughed. “Yeah, that’s him. Wow, I’m surprised Giles didn’t throw him off the plane. He threatened to if Andrew mentioned Lord of the Rings again. He’s – uh, kinda passionate about movies. Since we’ve been in Australia, he wouldn’t quit talking about it. I think Giles was ready to kill him.”
“He seemed all right … a little weird, but all right. Nothing wrong with liking movies, right?”
“You might rethink that – after you’ve spent more than two minutes actually talking to Andrew. He’s a different breed of dork all together, but all in all, he’s okay.”
“Yeah,” Boone agreed. “I’ve met a few people like that. Well, hey, I’m gonna keep walking up the beach and see if I can get a signal from somewhere.”
“Good luck with that,” Buffy called as Boone started walking away, dialing and redialing on his cell phone. She only hoped he could reach someone. The sooner they were rescued, the better.
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“So, uh, how’re you doing? Any more, you know, baby stuff?” Xander asked hesitantly as he sat down beside the pregnant woman.
“No,” the woman replied absently, her hand resting protectively on her belly as she stared out over the wreckage. “I haven’t felt anything other than that since the wreck. I – I know it hasn’t been that long, but he usually … he kicks constantly.”
Xander couldn’t help but notice the Australian accent as well as the worry leaden in the poor woman’s voice. “I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Xander said with a reassurance he didn’t feel. How could the baby have survived such trauma? “So, you know your having a boy?”
“No, actually. I never found out,” the woman admitted. She glanced over at Xander, offering him a weak smile. “I’m Claire, by the way.”
“Xander. So, you’re from Australia?”
“Born and raised,” Claire replied. “You?”
“Good old California,” Xander said. “Sunnydale, more specifically.”
“Oh, wasn’t that that town destroyed by the earthquake? All accounts said it was completely leveled. No one had ever seen anything like it.”
If only she knew the half of it. “Yeah, that was Sunnydale. Luckily, my friends and I got out before it happened. Now, it’s just a big, giant pothole.”
“It’s weird,” Claire stated. “They said most of the residents got out before it happened. They haven’t found any bodies, but they said deaths would have been minimal at best. Of course, that’s wonderful, but I didn’t think they had such good warning systems about earthquakes.”
“Yeah, well, you know, people can sense those things. Inherent evil seems to have a way of setting off alarms in people’s heads.” Xander paused as Claire looked at him strangely. “Well, evil – Mother Nature.”
“Yeah, okay, right,” Claire replied slowly, shaking her head at the oddness of that statement. “What do you suppose he’s doing?” Claire questioned, pointing out a tall, athletically built Arab man who appeared to be throwing wood on a pile of burning debris.
Her question was answered before Xander had a chance to speculate when a large man with a tangled mass of curly auburn hair that fell to his shoulders passed by the Arab. “Hey, what’s your name?” the Arab questioned, halting the large man’s progress.
“Me? Hurley.”
“Hurley, we need help with the fire. Rescue planes won’t see it unless it’s big.”
“Dude, I’m on it. What’s your name?”
“Sayid.”
“Sayid,” Hurley repeated. “Yeah, dude, I’m on it.” Hurley lumbered away to gather more wood for the lapping flames as Sayid then recruited a few other people to help with the fire. The sun was beginning to set – this was the best time to make a huge fire in hopes that the rescue planes might see it. All they could do now was wait.
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