Look After You
Summary: After his latest spat with Shannon, Boone storms off, fed up of having to deal with his emotions. A surprising visitor comes to sit next to him and ends up giving him some unusually helpful advice. Set in season one. You could look at this as the missing scenes from 1x05 White Rabbit.
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“You selfish, unappreciative, little tart!”
“You sentimental jerk!”
“You horrible, self-centred, ungrateful bitch!”
“Oh go suck up to Jack! I’m sure he’s your new hero now just because he’s never held a gun and he seems to look after everyone else better than you.”
“Oh shut up, Shannon! Can’t you hear the rubbish you spout? You’re self-centredness is getting tiresome.”
“Are you on your man period or something? I’ve never seen you kick up a tantrum like this before.”
Boone glared at Shannon, infuriated by the smirk which curled her rosy lips. She was beautiful – Goddamn her for being so beautiful – and the problem was she knew it. She also knew how he felt about her, how every part of him ached towards her like metal to a magnet and how every time her eyelashes flickered softly towards him each time she blinked it made him melt inside. Her knowledge of this fact made her so supercilious towards him that it drove him to the point where he imagined punching her hard.
“Why do I bother trying to talk to you like a human being?” he asked, half rhetorically. “You treat me like a crap – hell you treat everyone like crap! I saw you and that pregnant girl the other day and I watched how bored you looked at the fact that someone was trying to be friendly to you!”
“How touching,” she sneered. “I’m so glad I have you to watch my back for me. I’m a big girl, Boone, and I refuse to be lectured by a pervert!” With those final, cutting words, she flounced off, her golden hair trailing behind her like a river in the wind.
He stared after her with fury radiating out of his eyes. His hands clenched into fists and the monster inside him – the one which lusted after and loathed Shannon in equal amounts – wanted to break free and run after her so that he could yell at her about how she was driving him crazy. That night they’d spent together pre-crash had tormented him because he’d often wondered whether she’d ever use that information against him. Shannon was a girl who’d cling to a guy, make him feel loved and then cry rape afterwards. She had everyone eating out of the palm of her hands and she knew it. It was part of the reason why he’d chastised himself for loving her. He didn’t want to be another victim of her cruel games.
Boone stormed off down the beach, fuelled by the intense whirlwind of emotions that was strangling his body. He wished he didn’t have a tie to her, regardless of the fact that it was through his mother’s rash remarriage. The tie existed and he knew what he’d done would’ve been considered immoral in the eyes of, well, people who didn’t lust after their family members.
He collapsed on the sand and crossed his legs like a schoolboy. Staring out at the vast ocean eased his irritation infinitesimally, yet his expression still bore a frown. How could such a sycophantic, ignorant, selfish girl have played her way into his heart? Was he such an ignoramus that he couldn’t fall for someone smarter with a bit more common sense and sensitivity than her? No. Every time he closed his eyes, hers was the face which lingered underneath his eyelids.
“Are you ok?” A voice, heavily accentuated with the dialect of Australia, floated through the air and pulled him back to reality. When he became angry he forgot he was surrounded by other, equally frustrated, people.
“I’m fine,” he muttered mutinously through gritted teeth. When he glanced up, he saw a nervous looking Claire staring at him. He wanted to like her, but her blonde hair reminded him too much of Shannon.
To his discomfort, she chose to sit next to him (but not without difficulty). Her thin, trembling hands clambered the air for invisible support as she sank into a sitting stance and, with a sigh, he offered her his help.
“Thanks,” she murmured gratefully. Once she was settled, she gave him a soft smile that reminded him she was in a whole different class to Shannon. Her beauty was subtle, yet still remained in sight. She was shy, nervous even and he found it strangely endearing.
“How’s the baby?” he found himself asking. He inwardly winced at the choice of conversation opener but couldn’t take it back. He just didn’t know how to act around her.
“Fine, I think,” Claire replied, stroking her stomach absent-mindedly. “He’s been a bit quiet though. Yesterday he was kicking and now he seems to be having a bit of a kip.” She laughed softly.
“He?” Boone asked curiously. “Is it a boy, then?”
“No idea.” She shrugged. “I just have a feeling the baby is a healthy, baby boy. Not that I’d mind if it was a girl.”
An awkward silence fell between them. Boone had barely spoken to this woman and now she’d voluntarily walked up to him and struck up a conversation with him. Whilst he was grateful for the company, it still didn’t calm the raging monster within his body. Shannon was so infuriating at times it was incomprehensible.
“I heard you and your sister arguing earlier,” Claire offered timidly.
“She’s my step sister.” He made sure to emphasise the difference but it was out of self-justification as opposed to a means of correction. “And she’s an utter pain.” Why was he pouring his heart and soul to an utter stranger? “She just can’t get over the fact that I was right about her not being able to take care of herself.” He laughed a single, bitter laugh. “She went as far as to trick a perfectly nice young man into catching a fish for her. What was his name? Charlie- that’s the guy.” His expression distorted in disgust at her heinous attempt at proving herself to him.
Claire listened attentively and occasionally nodded her head sympathetically. When he mentioned Charlie’s name, he noticed her smile widened by a fraction and wondered if they were together.
“You know him?” he asked casually. “Short guy with blonde-brown hair?”
“Yes,” she replied. “I know him. He’s a sweet guy.” Something close to affection dawned in her hazel-green eyes. “He’s been taking care of me like I’m his little sister or something. It’s rather endearing, actually.”
Boone scowled at the word ‘sister’. “I’m sorry I’m not being good company,” he offered unexpectedly. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now. Shannon thinks she can do things on her own but I’ve seen what happens when she tries. Duping and conning people aren’t exactly ways of becoming independent are they?” He dug his fingers in the sand savagely and startled a crab out of hiding.
“Maybe she feels like you’re holding her back from being independent,” Claire suggested helpfully. His stare of disbelief made her backtrack a little. “I’m not saying you are,” she amended. “But take it from me; women don’t like being dictated to. If we feel like someone’s telling us what to do, or how to fend for ourselves, especially if it comes from a man, we fight back. It’s what we do.” She traced a pattern in the sand lightly, pausing to meet Boone’s suddenly thoughtful gaze.
In his mind, Boone was disputing every fact he was being presented with. How could it be true? Shannon needed support from him like she was strapped to a life support machine with none of her arms and legs in use. Or did she? Maybe he was looking at this the wrong way. Maybe she just wanted to start again by proving to herself – and him – that she didn’t need his help. She’d spent all her time trying to get money to do just that – why not do it here too?
“Maybe it’s true,” he grudgingly conceded. “But she’s so stubborn. What’s the deal with that? Look at the facts; other women here do just fine without being all high and mighty.” He stared at Kate who was talking to Sayid – the interrogator guy – who was wearing a smile on his face. His eyes rotated to the Korean woman, Sun, who was silently defying her husband by removing the jacket he’d forced on her earlier, revealing a light blue bikini top underneath.
“I guess women are all different,” he said with a hint of exasperation to his tone. “I just wish she’d appreciate all I’ve done for her.”
He watched her now and saw she was starting to paint her toenails. Her petite frame, her long, slender legs, her eyes seemed to be carved by the Gods themselves. She was so beautiful but untouchable. He couldn’t forget her, as much as he wanted to. She’d carved her way into his thoughts, his brain, his memories and he wished he’d never met her, so great was his grief and torment.
“She probably does,” Claire suggested. “But she’s probably hiding her gratitude.” She changed the subject. “What were you doing in Australia, anyway?” She smiled, showing an array of dimples.
Charmed by her, Boone willingly responded, “I was visiting Shannon and her new boyfriend.” It wasn’t a lie exactly but he had to bend the truth a little. His dignity was already in tatters at being bested by a selfish woman and he didn’t need any further damage by telling a stranger that he’d gone to Australia to bribe his sister’s boyfriend into leaving her alone. That would make him seem pathetic.
“I wish I had a caring brother like you,” Claire said softly, leaning back as a rare cool breeze floated past.
“I’m not a caring brother. I wish I was though.” He stared at the sand and almost wished he could blend into it. People walked all over him anyway so what would be the difference. “Thanks, anyway.”
He helped her to her feet when it was clear their brief – but charming – conversation had ended. She treated him to a friendly smile and wave before hobbling off down the beach where she was met by an unusually perked up Charlie.
Boone smiled to himself and vowed to make it up to her. The opportunity to reward her for her advice came later that day. The doctor’s mysterious absence, along with the slow disappearance of water meant that tensions were frayed throughout the camp. Shannon seemed to shoot a lot of dirty looks in his direction and his heart pulsed achingly each time her pretty smile distorted into a scowl. Her rejections at a cordial relationship – each as a harsh as a punch to the chest – still hurt like bruises on flesh but he was less angry now. He knew Claire was probably sugar coating Shannon’s character and giving praise in place of criticism but it was nice to imagine a kinder, shyer side to someone he knew he could never figure out.
It shocked him to learn that Claire had collapsed on the beach due to lack of water. Desperation had caused him to reach inside the doctor’s tent and grab the last of the water in hopes of sneaking her some. This proved to be a daunting task though because Charlie and Kate seemed to flitter in and out of the tent every five minutes or so to check up on her. He just wanted to pay back a gentle soul who’d given him some unusually helpful advice.
When it was dark and he was sure no one else was about, he grabbed a bottle of water and snuck into her tent. Her frame, round with the burden of carrying new life, was easy to spot even amongst the darkness. He crept towards her and pressed the mouth of the bottle lightly against her lips which opened slightly at the sudden contact. Water splashed softly against them and she opened her eyes in surprise as the water hurried down her throat.
A sudden hand spun him around and he found himself gazing into the furious eyes of Charlie.
“Where’d you get that?” the Briton asked, breathing heavily.
Boone tried to explain that with the camp gone and tensions frayed he’d tried to step up and take charge by giving water to those who needed it. He didn’t get chance to explain himself fully as he suddenly found himself surrounded by the other members of camp and their hostile glares as soon as they realised he was the water thief.
I only wanted to help, he thought miserably. I couldn’t help Shannon without getting bitched at and now the same is happening with Claire. He only wanted to look after someone and feel appreciated for once. What was wrong with that? In the eyes of everyone else he was a joke and in some ways he was like Shannon, in the fact that he wanted to prove his worth to everyone.
Jack’s intervention didn’t do anything more than to make him sink lower into depression. He sat aside from the others and gazed at the sky in contemplation. Any hope of redeeming himself and proving his character to the others had now been shot to sunshine. Sawyer’s passing remark didn’t exactly help either.
“How does it feel?” the Southerner had asked, with the sheer nerve to act concerned.
“How does what feel?” Boone had responded, numb with the realisation that he was a complete failure.
“You taking my place at the top of everyone’s most hated list.” Sawyer had smirked then, looking utterly pleased with himself.
Boone didn’t dignify that hateful comment with a reply.
“Sucks don’t it?” Sawyer had replied for him and then wandered off leaving the young American alone again.
Shannon walked by now, her beauty shining around him like some sort of halo. She hesitated as she caught him staring and it looked as if she couldn’t decide whether to smile at him or scowl in his direction. Her lips quivered into a half smile, perhaps silently reassuring him that she believed him. He snorted quietly to himself, truly wondering if he was that delusional to believe she could ever change.
As he rose to his feet, he caught sight of Claire’s face peeping around her makeshift tent. She smiled politely at him and then beckoned him forward. Dubious as to whether or not he could get away with it, he stepped towards her hesitantly.
Once inside her tent, he knelt next to her and saw she didn’t look angry or bitter that he’d stolen water and lost the trust of everyone at camp. On the contrary, she looked flattered and grateful.
“Thanks,” she murmured gratefully. “I know what it cost you to bring me this water.”
He looked at her in silence, taken aback by how grateful she was being. The contrast between her and Shannon was staggering.
“No problem,” he said finally. He rubbed the back of his neck absent-mindedly and stared at her earnest gaze with a small smile. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine thanks to you,” she replied, with nothing less than sincerity touching her tone. “I’m sorry I got you into trouble.” A small giggle parted her lips and he laughed softly with her.
“S’okay,” he mumbled. “I just wanted to, you know, look after you.” God, how corny did that sound? “I sound like a goof, I know.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I think the reason you’re upset with Shannon is because you just need someone to look after, to protect. You’re a good man, Boone. Some girl will be lucky to have you.” She patted his hand reassuringly.
But it’s not some girl I want, he thought. It’s someone I’ll never be able to have. She’s beautiful – and utterly devoted to herself – but who am I kidding? I’m sick just thinking about the idea.
She saw the battle raging between his eyes but, mistakenly believing it was about his worth, she repeated her last words and fell back to sleep. He gazed at her equally beautiful face and kept comparing her to Shannon. Claire was sweet, honest and loyal – three virtues Shannon lacked – but he could never fall in love with her. That smile she wore belonged to someone else (perhaps to Charlie?) and he knew all he really wanted to do was protect Shannon, even if it only meant watching her afar as a brother. Maybe in time she’d see how much he wanted to look after her but for now he’d settle to being distant from her – even if it silently killed him inside…
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