Hey everyone! This is my first fanfic I've ever written. I've enjoyed them for years, but never thought I've had any ideas/been scared of posting.

Disclaimer: I don't own Lost. If I did, this would be how things really had happened.

Summary: What if Shannon had lived through Abandoned? Walking through Season 2, with some canon and a few new things. Shayid, so if you don't like that, don't read!

Chapter 1

I kneeled down to the lab, absentmindedly scratching his ears as I poured the contents of my own water bottle into an orange plastic carton. I had tracked for a mile in order to collect a few bottles from the cave, and this was my last one, but I emptied the entire thing after Vincent licked the nozzle, effectively claiming it as his own. So much for rinsing my teeth tonight, I sighed to myself.

"You thirsty, Dog?" I asked, almost expecting him to answer, the way he looked at me. We had been through a lot recently-lost people close to both of us. The comradery of weathering such losses brought an understanding to one another that surpassed real language. "Yeah, you're always thirsty, aren't ya? So drink." Vincent whined a little, a typical response to my voice.

Kissing the top of his head affectionately, I pushed the carton towards him, and sat up, turning towards the makings of my new shelter, which currently consisted of a few scattered branches and a plastic sheet, which I hoped to attach as a roof before the rain expected the next day.

It wasn't looking good.

Picking up the plastic sheet, I was interrupted from contemplating sleeping in the rain by a soft "Come on."

I turned to see Sayid, passing by, almost whispering "Gather your things," as he tossed me a package. I couldn't smother the smile that reached my lips at the randomness of the occasion, and the urgency in Sayid's voice. Gather my things? I wasn't planning on moving to the rape caves, especially right before bedtime.

Nor did I fight the urge to smile in Sayid's presence anymore. He was a big reason-more so than the yellow mutt currently drinking my water—for why I was happy, and I felt it necessary to let him know how much I appreciated him by not appearing as surly as I used to.

Shrugging my shoulders, I laughed out, "Where are we going?" He was already striding forward, pausing only slightly to glance back with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Sayid?" But he was already far in front of me, and I had to trot to catch up.

"Right over here."

Great, that's specific.

"Where are we going?" He only glanced back a second time, the mysterious smile just barely gracing his lips, smile upturned within the frame of his close-cut beard. I couldn't help but giggle flirtatiously back. He seemed so excited to show me something, almost like a little boy. It was times like this that I realized how much light was still inside him, despite his contending that he would never be fully capable of being anything more than a torturer. He saw only the dark, but it was times like this where I saw the romantic within him, the friend, the companion.

The hero.

My hero.

We finally reached the mass of plastic and palm fronds that had seemed from the main part of camp to be only trash. Up close, in the clear moonlight, I saw the true shape of it. A perfect door, perfect frame, protected from the elements, far enough from camp to allow privacy, close enough to allow protection. My jaw dropped. It was far more structurally sound than whatever I had planned to throw together tonight in preparation for the storm season.

Sayid stood proudly next to it, the smile on his lips reached his eyes, but hesitated slightly as he held out his hand that wasn't carrying my bag. "What do you think?" he asked, awaiting my approval before taking pride in his work.

I managed to contain my glee, allowing for only a mysterious smile in return, trying to tease him the same way he had in not told me what we were going to see. "Does it have an inside?" I tilted my head to the side, pretending to consider it, rather than rejoice in the product of my lover's labor.

The teasing clearly hasn't worked, as he seemed fully satisfied that I am impressed. He pulled back the tarp door, waiting for me to enter first. Always the gentleman.

We both entered the tent, Sayid hesitating inside the doorway, allowing me to explore my new dwelling. I turned to him, surprised and touched. "When did you do this?" I breathed out.

He looked at me as if I was the only person in the world he wanted to please. "Its all yours."

I stared back at him, trying to figure out what it all meant. Were we ready for this step? Did it matter?

"Thank you." That was all I could choke out at the moment. For once, a glib remark, a smart comeback to take away the romance of the moment seemed impossible. I couldn't invalidate all of his work, just to make myself seem "cooler". What was "cool" on this island? Certainly not what it had been back home. Here, reality was appreciated, and honesty was esteemed more than whatever image people attempted to create.

He finally stepped forward, the flame of affection slowly flickering into one more passionate. "You're quite welcome." I grinned briefly, but couldn't laugh off the ferocity in his eyes. It was disarming. So I quirked an eyebrow, slowly feeling the familiar quality of lust entering my body. Hoping that I was clearly letting him know silently that all his time of waiting, of patiently staying by my side when I was pushing him away, was over. He no longer needed to keep to polite boundaries, I was ready to finally trust him.

He seemed uncertain, almost like he thought he was imagining I was certain of this decision, and that it wasn't just his hopes that pulled him closer to me. Taking a painfully slow step towards me, he finally stopped mere feet before me. He disarmed me with an open stare, taking no shame in appreciating my face in the lantern light. I tilted my head to the side, silently daring him to make his next move. Eyes half-lidded, he cupped my cheek, raveling his hands in my hair. Pausing briefly, he suddenly swooped in, seemingly decided that now was the time to give in. No more second guessing, nothing polite. I felt the surge of confidence he must now felt he must act now. The chivalry of the moment had been engulfed in the flames of his hidden passion, put for so long on the back burner while I dealt with my own neurosis.

I opened my mouth, deepening the kiss and allowing him to pull me deeper into the spiral of lust. He lowered his hands to my back, pulling me flush against his body. I was ready, and I crushed against him, fully investing myself into it. I reached my arms further around him, resting on the small of his back, ready to reciprocate the move, when I felt something hard already there, and a clicking noise as I shift my hand lower.

Sayid pulled back, sighing out in either embarrassment or frustration. "I'm sorry." For a moment, I feel fear creep in. Did I do something wrong? Was I too forward? Does he think that I assumed I had to pay for this shelter with sex, and now he was offended? But he made a silly little smile, pulling a gun out from where my hand had been advancing. As he looked around for a safe place to put it, I relaxed, allowing the comfortable rapport that we had shared for so long to settle in.

"Do you need to carry that with you all the time?" I asked, kneeling down.

The look he quirked back at me seemed to say he already thought I knew his answer. "I only carry it because I have someone to protect." His eyes carried the weight of the truth of that statement. He knew how dangerous our situation was, and he knew that my fate was in his hands. He also seemed so sure of our relationship that my only response was to pull him down to the ground with me, pulling him into my arms. He once again tangled his hands in my hair, and we resumed our previous actions. His previous hesitations slowly melted away, and he swept me up into his arms and, cradling my head, crushed me down onto our new bed, made of a pile of sand covered in tattered airplane blankets. It couldn't have been more perfect if it was at a five star hotel.

Later on in the tent…

As we laid upon the tangled blankets, I took in the events of the past forty-eight days. How much had I changed? How angry I had been, how sad and upset at my lot in life? I had been so ungrateful, even when life was not really that bad. Now, robbed of everything I had known, removed from any family I ever had, without anything more than the most basic of necessities, I felt peace. Wrapped in Sayid's arms, I felt completely protected, as if nothing in the world could touch me.

I rolled over, reveling in the feeling of my body flush against his. I lightly brushed my lips against his chest, the soft curls on his pectorals scratching my already sensitive face. It seemed like just a second ago his beard had been tickling me the same way. "So…does all this - the tent, flowers - mean that we're serious now?"

He paused, raising his eyebrows and closing his eyes, playing aloof. Clearly teasing me again. "Quite definitely not. I do this for all the girls I meet on deserted islands." He continued to pet my hair. He looked so relaxed, fully at peace for the first time since I'd met him.

I laughed softly, hiding half my face back in his chest and allowing my hair to fall in front of my eyes. I felt a lightness all over, and a fluttering in my stomach. I leaned in and teased slightly, just close enough to make him think I would kiss him but not close enough to actually make good on the promise. I started to sit up. "Don't go anywhere," I whispered in his ear.

Sayid tilted his head to the side, suddenly confused. "Where are you going?"

I smiled reassuringly. "To get some water."

He kissed me lightly on the forehead, then the lips. "Let me." He smoothly rose to his feet as I lay back down, enjoying the brief peep show as he pulled his pants on. I grinned cheekily at him as he zipped up. "I'll be right back." He said it almost like it was as important a mission as any he'd ever taken.

With that he stepped out, leaving me alone with my very dirty thoughts.

I ran a hand through my knotted hair, which had been fairly well tamed until the past forty minutes, when both of us had been slightly more focused on other things to notice how tangled it was getting. I hoped he could get back quickly, I was fairly certain it would look as bad as Hurley's by the end of the night if we could keep it up.

A gust of wind rattled through the tent, announcing the entrance of someone into the tent and threatening to blow out the candle, which fought to stay burning, while the rest of the tent darkened slightly.

"That was quick," I quipped, glancing to the entrance.

Instead of the tall shadow of Sayid, I saw the dripping image of someone I haven't seen in four days. The tiny, shaking form of Walt. I was frozen in shock, expecting it to be a ghost, as I had seen the bottle of messages which Claire had found. He was mumbling something unintelligible, and I finally reacted—I screamed, and scrambled up to go get help out of the tent. I'm not sure what I was thinking, I just knew I couldn't handle whatever it was by myself.

Sayid dropped one of the waters he was holding and ran across the small stretch of beach to meet me, wrapping his arms around me protectively. His eyes were wide, mouth set firmly. "What is wrong?"

"I saw Walt!" I shouted. "He's in the tent! He's back!" I was shaking I was so excited, although I felt the chill of fear and doubt in the back of my mind. Was he really there? I had seen him and heard him, but why would he come to me? Why was my automatic reaction to run away from a ten year-old.

Sayid froze for a moment, and then bolted towards the tent, sand flying from his feet, the other bottle still gripped tightly. I stood there, staring up at the stars and shifting back and forth nervously.

The wind whipped through my tangled hair, as I heard Sayid's steps behind me. "There's nothing." He reached me. "No one there."

What? It was so real. "I'm telling you I saw Walt!" I growled out.

He looked at me like I was missing something crucial. "It was a dream Shannon." He almost looked frightened by me, as if I was crazy. I wasn't crazy!

I paused in between each sentence, exaggerating my words to clear up any confusion. "He was here. I saw him. He went into the tent."

He lowered his lids, speaking softly, as if afraid to set me off. "I was only gone a few moments. You must have fallen asleep."

Speaking to me as if I was a child! "This was not a dream! I saw Walt!" I was past trying to discuss this topic calmly, I was pissed. I was close enough to kiss him, but I really wanted to just punch him.

He paused, taking a breath, as if dealing with a child. "Then where is he?" He breathed out.

I pulled back, shocked by how difficult he was being. Why couldn't he just believe me? Did he just not care?

"Hey, what's going on?" We both turned, surprised by another presence. Charlie stood there, confusion on his face.

"Nothing," he looked back at me, jaw set again. "It's just a dream; everything's fine." He said that last sentence as if trying to convince me more than Charlie.

My chin jutted out and I gritted my teeth, furious at him. I stormed off, just as Claire and the baby—whatever his name was—walked up. I heard Sayid murmur my name, but I was too upset to do anything but continue on my path back to the tent. Once inside, I started tossing my items into my bag—anal-retentiveness be damned.

I grabbed my bag and stomped outside, just as Sayid reached the entrance. I ignored him and walked towards the path to the other tents. "Wait," he called. He hopped over a stump and grabbed my arm, spinning me around and steadying me with his hands. "Wait! Come back with me; let's talk about this."

I leveled him with my eyes. "Do you believe me?" He stared at me, opening his mouth. He looked as if he wanted to believe me but couldn't. As if I was crazy. I pulled away, feeling the tears creeping into my eyes. "No…I know what I saw."

I walked over to where Claire sat on a stump, watching helplessly as Charlie walked up and down the beach with the baby. "Mr. Mom strikes again?" I quipped.

Claire looked glumly at me, "He seems to be more maternal than I am." She sighed, standing up clumsily.

I took a deep breath, trying to decide how to ask this. Instead, I left tact to the wind and just blurted out, "I had a fight Sayid. Can I stay with you tonight?"

She paused, looking at me closely, as if she was sizing me up. Finally, she smiled crookedly. "Sure. I could use someone to change him around four a.m. when he starts crying."

I grimaced. Greeeaaattt.