And then he thought it was over. His world was black, and he almost felt at peace. He wanted to stay there forever and sleep -- he wasn't sure where that was, but his mind didn't fight it.
Then he felt like he was being moved. He couldn't tell. It was like an out of body experience except he couldn't see from any point of view. Maybe he was dreaming. One of those crazy dreams where your powerless to run or move even though you know you have to. On the side of being confused, he was almost alarmed; he couldn't see. He couldn't hear. He opened his eyes but his sight stung. Glassy ocular stained with blood; his vision hurt. He went in an out of consciousness; unsure of his surroundings, still hoping to wake up from this distorted dream.
Then there was light. But it was blinding. He could finally hear voices; but they were distant, inaudible; like a different language. The volume would go in and out like an unclear frequency on a radio. Then something clicked --- the radio. He remembered sending a distress call; in an abandoned plane. Had someone heard him? Were they being rescued? Unfortunately for Boone, neither was the case.
Just breathing was a painful task. He wished he didn't have to do it, but it was an involuntary action that was not within his power. And the times that he tried to hold it, his lungs ached, and throat gagged; a hacking cough that sent pain searing through his entire body.
Someone was talking, saying his name? His eyes opened, but mostly his vision was blurred. But his hearing was getting clearer; it was his name they spoke. Can you hear me? He could. His mouth opened but no sound came out. He wanted to answer. Yes, I can hear you. But to no avail.
Don't talk, I'm right here.
That alone was enough to soothe him; and he lost consciousness again.
It felt like the hand of God shoved the back end of the tail and the rest of the plane was feeling the aftershock of it. The "seat belt light" went on and the pang sound echoed in his ear. Was that really going to save them when falling out of the sky from 48,000 FT?
The plane cries, metal grinding; engines shrieking. They're tossed around on the inside of the cabin like pieces snowflakes in a snow globe. Shannon grips his forearm absent minded, staring straight ahead as if facing death. Technically many of them were.
Another whack and the plane shifts in the sky, quickly moving off course -- losing the highway in the sky. He tells her it's all right, but barely believes it himself. She has no response, only clutching the flesh of his arm tighter. Her breathe gets thinner and Boone can hear it in her chest. "No no, Shan--" He leans over, covering her hand with his. "Your all right. It's only turbulence."
Her eyes squeeze shut, frantically shaking her head. And then, all seemed to be proven wrong. Oxygen masks fall from the ceiling as everyone scrambles for them. Alarms deafening it's passengers, verifying the fear, the truth -- the reality. They were going to crash. They were all going down.
Was he reliving this nightmare all over again? Would he wake up in the quietness of his tent next to Shannon, knowing it was all just another dream?
Hardly. This time was different.
He'd sustained several injuries, wasn't that obvious? By the looks of him he should have been dead. Beaten and bloody, flesh ripped from his appendages, exposing muscle, tendons, and bone. A few survivors that circled around to see the what all the excitement was wound up loosing their dinner. But Jack was there, never faltering in his oath to save someone.
Minutes, hours passed as the boy slipped in and out of consciousness. Then he briefly came around. It was dark out -- probably night time. The smell of burning wood invaded his nose. His eyes circled in his head, begging the jungle to stop moving. The face over him was cloudy, the voice distant.
Jack. It had to have been Jack. The doctor's calm, collectiveness gave him away. Then another voice. It was his sister's. Sight searched for them, but the his ocular nerves struggled and jabbed a pain through his skull.
It was a little hard when the boy had no idea what was going on. With all the effort it took, he forced out. "--- W-what happened?"
"You were in an accident. But your okay. I'm going to fix this."
Then a female voice. Calm, soothing.
"Boone, I'm here too."
It was Shannon. No mistaking that. But her voice was trembling, no doubt she was biting her lip to trap the tears behind her eyes.
Relief barely lasted. Pain seared once again, muscles contracting, tension throughout his body. He doesn't remember much after that. Except the feverish dreams, jumbled words, and mystifying disorderment.
Apparently he'd been like a vegetable for weeks, it was a miracle Jack had been able to save him. Talk about a savior. The memories of the accident haunted him almost as much as the initial crash. He didn't know how he survived. It was all a blackness in his mind. A void unable to be filled no matter how many times the story was told to him.
He remembered climbing into a plane; and hearing a voice -- someone heard their distress call. After that, the bits and pieces of the puzzle were hard to put back into place.
It was a long recuperation for the boy; and still his mind at times became distant. Unable to grasp everything happening. Jack said it was normal for him to become spacy at times; zoning out. After the body goes through such a traumatic experience it only concentrates on healing. The problem solving part of the brain goes on vacation to save itself from going back into shock.
Boone felt like he was walking through a fog during the several weeks of his convalescence. Two near death experiences could do that to someone he guessed.
Was there going to be a third? Rumors started on the island. Someone was coming? The appearance of the "French Lady" was strange enough, and no one was able to get a straight answer from anyone. Claire's baby had been kidnapped, Sayid and Charlie went off to find him. Jack, Hurely, Locke and Kate jumped into action mode and sought out a way to open The Hatch. Boone felt it mandatory that he be there as well -- but everyone disagreed. Even though he'd made quite the recovery, his strength was still yet to completely return.
"Stay with me." His sister would request. The fear coating her eyes, uncertainty of everything. How could he say no to that?
So the packing had begun. "Gather everything you need and retreat to the caves. You should be safer there until we return." Jack always knew the right things to say. Like a mentor to the people, they all did as they were told. Not a question of doubt present.
Shannon was next to him. They carried the end of the line of survivors making their way towards the caves. "Do you really need that much stuff?" She easily shot a glare his way. "Of course I do, otherwise I wouldn't be bringing it would I, bonehead?" A simple yes would have been sufficient enough. However, exertion dripped from her face, a sigh of impatience escaping her mouth. He reached over and took possession of one of her bags. Lugging it over his shoulder on top of his own luggage. "We're almost there." He'd say.
She turned to him and flashed a small grin.
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