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The Aftermath of Oceanic Flight 815

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Summary: Buffy Summer's biggest problem was trying to convince a new Slayer to leave her home in Australia and come back to the US with her. Then when her plane crashed, leaving her stranded on an island with the other survivors of Oceanic 815. ABANDONED.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Television > LostAlcharmaFR151148,26613913,02018 Jul 0718 Jun 08No

Pilot (Part 1)

Just a bit of a Buffy/LOST crossover. Have always wondered what Buffy would do in this situation, and the plotbunny wouldn't leave me alone til I wrote it. I aspire to write Buffy into both season, but we'll see, depending on how much y'all like it and how long it takes me to write it. ^_^ Nothing really unusual happens... It's obviously AU for Buffy, but it's pretty much word for word from the LOST script.

Disclaimer: I own neither Buffy the Vampire Slayer or LOST. Buffy belongs to Joss Whedon, and LOST belongs to J.J. Abrams and Damon Lindelof. I'm just a poor college student playing around with the characters. The plot pretty much belongs to J.J. and Damon, as I'm just taking existing LOST episodes and inserting Buffy into them. A large amount of dialog is taken from the episode itself. Episode transcripts taken from twiztv.

The dividers (--------------------------) mean it's a scene change. I'm going off of the original script for the pilot and don't really fancy making up stuff to fill the hours worth of gaps in between each scene. Yes, I know, I'm lazy. -_-

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Well, that was completely useless, thought Buffy, placing her ticket stub in her bag and rifling around in her purse for a stick of gum.

Since defeating the First nearly a year ago, the gang had split, each member constantly traveling to a different country to find newly-called Slayers, and only seeing each other between jobs. For the last couple of days, Buffy had been in Sydney, Australia, attempting to convince a Slayer to return to America with her, to no avail. The girl had flat-out refused to come with her even though Buffy had explained the situation several times, and even went as far as threatening to call the cops if she didn't leave her house immediately. After being yelled at and nearly thrown out of a four-story window, Buffy gave up, exasperated, and left the girl alone, planning to fly back to Los Angeles and come back with reinforcements.

Finding a pack of Orbit at the bottom of her purse, she extracted it with a flourish, unwrapping and popping a piece into her mouth before throwing it back and settling down into her seat. Feeling the rumbling of the plain as it started down the runway, she leaned back in her seat, turning her head toward the window, staring at the beautiful sunset beyond the glass. A few minutes later, the plain was in the air, climbing steadily, and Buffy leaned her head against the window, fully intending on sleeping the entire way to Los Angeles.

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Whacking her head against the window with a crack, Buffy awoke, slightly disoriented, feeling the entire cabin shake with turbulence. Rubbing her head, she glanced at her watch, seeing that they were only eight hours into the flight. Glancing to her right, she saw a handsome man, dressed in a suit, with cropped brown hair, talking to a woman in pink across the isle. Suddenly, a female voice fills the cabin, snapping Buffy's attention from the man next to her and to the front of the plane.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the pilot has switched on the 'fasten seatbelt' sign. Please reutn to your seats and fasten your seatbelt.” Checking to make sure that her seatbelt was fastened correctly, Buffy turned back to the man next to her, who was in the process of reassuring the woman that everything was going to be alright.

“...keeps reminding me that planes want to be in the air,” the woman was saying, casting a worried glance toward the back of the plane. The two continued to talk, but Buffy was paying them little attention. The plane was shaking even worse now, and Buffy squeezed her eyes shut, gripping the armrests so hard that her knuckles were turning white. Already hating the idea of flying, this was obviously making it worse.

Suddenly, the plane jerked violently, caused by a rapid decent as the plain clearly lost altitude. People who had not fastened their seatbelts flew out of their seats and hit the ceiling, causing Buffy to cover her head with her hands as various pieces of luggage rain down upon her. The last thing she remembered was grabbing her oxygen mask after it dropped from the ceiling, alarms blaring in her ears and head pressed back against the headrest before everything turned black.

--------------------------

When she came to, she was lying sprawled on the ground, sand moist under her and loud screams sounding in her ears. Bringing her hand to the back of her head and feeling a large bump, she pushed herself to a sitting position, taking in the scene in front of her. The backdrop of the beautiful clear, blue water and white sand was marred by the plane wreckage and pieces of luggage, people scattered around the beach, some screaming, and others running around frantically.

Checking herself for wounds and finding only superficial scratches on her arms and face, in addition to the bump on the back of her head, Buffy pushed herself up off of the sand, sprinting toward the commotion, the Slayer in her taking over. She brought an arm to her face to protect her eyes from the head and fire as she passed the burning wreckage in order to get to the people who needed help on the other side. Skidding to a halt in front of a young, blond woman who was screaming hysterically, Buffy grabbed her shoulders, shaking her slightly.

“Hey!” Buffy tried to get her attention but she continued screaming. “HEY!” she yelled, shaking her a bit harder, causing the woman to stop screaming and look at her. “Hey, are you alright?”

“Boone,” she said faintly, looking away from Buffy and scanning the surrounding beach. Having no idea what she is talking about, Buffy shook her again, forcing the woman to look at her.

“Are you hurt?” she said more firmly this time, holding the woman at arm's length and checking for any blood.

“I don't... I don't think so,” answered the woman, causing Buffy to let out a small sigh of relief and push her to a sitting position in the sand.

“Ok, stay here. I'll be back in a second. Stay here,” she emphasized, and once she was certain that the woman wasn't going anywhere, turned on her heel and once again sprinted toward the wreckage. A man was suddenly sucked into a still-whirring engine laying on the beach and it explodes, disrupting the ground and sending Buffy to the sand. Picking herself up, she sprinted off, coming to a stop when she hears a very loud creaking sound. Spinning around, she saw a large piece of airplane wing, dangling precariously and two people sitting dangerously close to it.

“Get up!” she screamed at the people, running as fast as she could toward them and waving her arms in the air frantically. The looked up at her, startled, but didn't move. “Yes you! Get up! Move!” Seeing the wing directly above him, the large man lept up and tried to get the very pregnant blond to a standing position. Hurrying to her side, Buffy grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the wreckage, all the while urging her to move faster. The second they cleared the wing, it crashed into the sand, exploded, and knocked the three to their feet. The main explosion caused a series of smaller explosions and pieces of big, burning metal shot up into the air causing the survivors to scream and run away.

“Are you guys ok?” she asked, wiping the sand off of her face and turning toward the two people laying beside her. At their nods she continued. “Stay with her, ok?”

“Dude, I'm not going anywhere,” replied the man, obviously shocked at what had happened. Without another word, she spun around, looking for anyone else who looked like they needed help. Seeing no one in immediate danger, Buffy spotted the man that was sitting next to on the plane; his shirt was torn and splattered with blood, and he was walking back into the brush looking slightly disoriented. Hurrying to catch up with him, she sprinted down the beach and into the forest, stopping once she reached a small clearing. Seeing him standing by a tree his shirt and jacket off, she winced as she got a good look at the gash on his back.

“Hey,” she stated hesitantly, causing him to turn toward her, wincing slightly at the hurried motion. “That looks pretty nasty...”

“Did you ever use a needle?” he asked, motioning with his hands as if sewing with a needle and thread. Buffy looked at him with a confused expression on her face, but stepped toward him anyways.

“What?” she replied, giving him a look.

“Did you ever patch a pair of jeans?” he continued, looking at her imploringly as she made her way toward him.

“I... uh... Yeah, sure I've sewn things before...” she answered, purposely leaving out the fact that she had learned how to sew so that she could patch herself up if need be after a particularly nasty patrol.

“That's fantastic. Listen, do you have a second? I could use a little help here...” he trailed off, waiting for her answer.

“Oh... Oh!” Buffy exclaimed, understanding what he needed from her. “Right, of course, sorry...”

“I'd do it myself. I'm a doctor, but I just can't reach...”

“No,” she interrupted gently, motioning for him to sit down, which he did. “It's no problem. Of course I will.”

“Thank you,” he said, picking up the small bottle of vodka from the sand and handing it to her. She uncapped it quickly, pouring a small amount on her hand before setting it down and grabbing the small sewing kit that he handed her. Opening it, she took out a needle and sterilized it in the vodka before turning back to the kit and noticing the variety of colored threads.

“So, any color preference?” she asked, tilting her head to the side slightly, as he appeared shocked at the fact that she knew how to sterilize things with the alcohol he had given her.

“No. Standard black,” he responded with a chuckle. After threading the needle with black thread, she once again picked up the bottle, pouring it over his wound and wincing sympathetically as he gasped from the pain. After he assured her that he was fine, she went to work, stitching up his wound easily, earning herself a few quizzical looks.

“My aunt's a nurse,” she lied, quickly coming up with an excuse for her being so good at sewing people up. Pause. “My name's Buffy, by the way,” she added, sending him a smile as she finished it off, cutting the thread with a pair of small scissors that she had fished out of the sewing kit.

“Jack,” he said, holding out a hand that she gladly accepted.

“Well, Jack, I'm all finished here,” she started, placing everything back into the little kit and closing it, “so, we can head back to the beach if you'd like.” They stood up, and after Jack put his shirt on, they headed back toward the beach.

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Night had fallen and the fire from the burning wreckage provides light and warmth. A small group stood near the largest fire, while other smaller groups sat around their own personal fires nearby. Buffy was lying on her back in the sand, looking at the beautiful star-filled sky through the sheets of smoke, and listening silently to Jack and a pretty brunette  Kate, she reminded herself  talking a couple of feet away from her, having just returned from tending to the marshal.

“We must have been about forty thousand feet when it happened,” Jack was saying, holding a leaf that had been torn into the shape of an airplane. “Hit an air pocket and dropped maybe... two hundred feet. The turbulence was...” Pause. “I blacked out.”

“I didn't,” responded Kate, and both Jack and Buffy turned toward her in interest. “I saw the whole thing. I knew that the tail was gone, but I ... couldn't bring myself to look back. And then the... front end of the plane broke off.”

“Well it's not here on the beach,” said Jack with a sigh. “Neither is the tail. We need to figure out which way we came in.”

“Why?” asked Kate, looking at him with a confused expression on her face. Buffy was wondering the same thing.

'Cause there's a chance we could find the cockpit,” he explained, looking from Buffy to Kate and back again. “ If it's intact, we might be able to find the transceiver, and we could send out a signal and help the rescue party find us.” Ah, Buffy thought, returning her gaze once again to the beautiful sky.

“How do you know all that?” she heard Kate ask.

“Took a couple of flying lessons. It wasn't for me,” he responded.

“I saw some smoke. Just through the valley.” Pause. “If you're thinking of going for the cockpit, I'm going with you.”

“Alright,” he answered after a pause, turning toward Buffy, who was paying him little attention, instead continuing to gaze at the stars. “Buffy, you coming?” Without turning her head toward him, she answered “I'm in,” closing her eyes and loving the feeling of the salty ocean breeze caressing her face. Suddenly, a loud, rumbling sound that reminded Buffy of creaking metal, sounded through the air, causing her to open her eyes and look into the blackness behind her. Looking around at the other survivors, she jumped to her feet as she saw a few of them walk toward the forest.

Walking toward an older man, a younger black man, and a boy who appeared to be his son, she stopped, narrowing her eyes in attempt to see into the darkness and straining her Slayer senses for any clue to what this thing might be. Unable to feel anything, she squinted harder, feeling Jack and Kate come up behind her.

They all turned to their right, where they assumed the noises were coming from; in addition to the rumbling the sound of trees falling and wood breaking also carried to the beach. In the distance, Buffy could see trees falling in a distinct path as if something was knocking them down. Looking around, she noticed that everyone had edged toward the forest even as the heavy stomping and howling continued.

“Terrific,” a short, rather punk-looking, man standing next to her muttered dryly, and Buffy closed her eyes, cursing the fact that no matter where she was, something supernatural aways found her.

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The next morning, Buffy sat with her feet in the water, staring out at the horizon as the others stood behind her, talking about the noises they had heard the night before.

“It sounded like an animal, not exactly...”

“That sound that it made, I keep thinking that there was something really familiar about it.”

“Really? Where are you from?”

“The Bronx.”

“Might be monkeys.”

“Sure, it's monkeys. It's monkey island...”

“Theoretically, we don't even know if we're on an island, let alone...”

The voices overlapped as the discussion continued, Buffy not paying them much attention. Feeling someone walk up behind her, she looked up, smiling as she saw Jack standing there.

“You ready?” he asked, returning her smile. Nodding, she stood up, brushing the sand off of her shorts and following Jack and Kate toward a small group of survivors.

“I'm gonna go out and look for the cockpit. See if we can find a transceiver to send a distress signal, help the rescue team,” said Jack, turning toward Boone, a handsome young man with gorgeous blue eyes. “You're going to need to keep an eye on the wounded. If the guy in the suit wakes up, try to keep him calm, but don't let him remove that piece of shrapnel. You understand?”

“Yeah. Got it,” he said, nodding. “What about the guy with the leg, the tourniquet?”

“I stopped the bleeding. I took it off last night. He should be all right,” replied Jack.

“Yeah. Cool. Good Job,” responded Boone absently, watching as Charlie, the short, punk-rocker dude, stood up.

“I'll come with,” he said, turning toward Jack. “I want to help.”

“Nah,” responded Jack, “I don't need any more help.”

“No, it's cool,” Charlie insisted. “I don't really feel like standing still, so...” At Jack's nod, he smiled, happy to be included in an adventure. “Excellent.”

About half an hour later, the four were still tromping through the jungle in search for the cockpit. Jack and Buffy were leading the way, and Charlie and Kate followed behind, emerged in a conversation of their own. Charlie and Kate caught up with them, obviously intent on asking them something.

“Hey,” said Jack, stopping to see what was up.

“You ever heard of Driveshaft?” asked Kate, looking back and forth between Buffy and Jack.

“You all, everybody. You all, every... body...” sang Charlie, stopping when Jack shook his head. Kate smiled and Buffy giggled slightly at the expression on his face and how cute Charlie looked when he was singing. Jack turned around and continued on, Buffy following behind him after shooting Kate and Charlie another smile.

A while layer, as Jack, Buffy, Kate, and Charlie continued fighting their way through the tall grass, it started to pour, drenching them in seconds. Buffy stumbled slightly as she got a face-full of water, but righted herself quickly, bringing her hand up to rain the water out of her eyes.

“Hey, guys,” started Charlie, tripping on a protruding root and grabbing onto a nearby tree to steady himself. “Is this normal? Kind of a day turning into night? You know, end of the world type weather. Is this... guys?” His three companions ignored him, annoyed that they were getting soaked and continued walking. A few minutes later, they stumbled into a small clearing, staring in awe in front of them at the plane's cockpit. They paused outside the damaged area in order to prepare themselves for what they're about to find. Annoyed with the waiting, Buffy stepped forward, hoisting herself up so that she could get into the plane.

“Let's do this,” she said, and without another word, she climbed in, leaving the other three staring after her. The inside was a mess and there were several dead passengers still strapped to their seats. Seeing Jack, Kate, and Charlie shuddered a bit at the sight, but Buffy sighed grimly, knowing that this scene wasn't affecting her the way that it should have. The angle of the cabin made it a tough climb to the cockpit, but being the Slayer, Buffy maneuvered it easily, grasping the handle and giving it a tug. It didn't budge.

“Let's just get this trans...” Charlie trailed off, obviously forgetting the name of what they're looking for.

“Transceiver,” answered Jack, making his way up the aisle toward the cockpit after Buffy.

“Transceiver thing and get out of here,” he continued, pulling himself up in an attempt to keep up with the others. Annoyed that the door wouldn't open, Buffy continued to look around, spotting a fire extinguisher next to her and grabbed it, using it to beat open the door. Just as Jack and Kate reached her, the door burst open, and the dead, bloodied body fell out and downward toward the bottom of the plane. Jack and Kate yelled in surprise as the body fell past them, and Charlie, who had his back up against the cabin partition nearly fell out of the plane as he let go of the seat he was holding on to for support. Having had too many things jump out at her to be scared by the body, Buffy simply ignored it and hoisted herself up and into the cockpit.

“You okay?” she heard Jack ask with a response of “yeah” from Kate. “Buffy you okay?”

“Yeah I'm good,” she called back, starting to rifle through the debris in search of the transceiver.

“I'm fine,” she heard Charlie call out sarcastically, and gave a small smile. “Charlie's fine by the way. I'm okay.”

Once Jack and Kate entered the cockpit, they braced themselves against the wall, panting from the climb, and looking at Buffy in confusion at why she wasn't at all out of breath. Ignoring them, Buffy continued to look around, reaching over the dead pilot in search of the transceiver. However, the pilot was not as dead as she assumed he was, and he gasped the second she touched him, causing her to jump and let out a small squeak of surprise, Slayer experience be damned. She stepped back a bit allowing Jack easier access to the injured man.

“Hey! Can you hear me?” asked Jack, slapping the pilot's face gently to get him to focus before turning toward Kate. “I need that water.” Jack changed his position, bracing his legs against the floor in order to have more mobility of his hands. Accepting the bottled water that Kate had found near the co-pilot's seat, he helped him drink, attempting to sooth the pilot's coughing.

“How many survived?” asked the pilot, voice rough and eyes a bit unfocused.

“At least forty-eight,” answered Jack, looking the pilot over with concern. “Do you feel anything broken?”

“No, no,” he answered. “Just my head... It's a little dizzy, that's all.”

“It's probably a concussion,” Jack answered after examining the pilot's head wound. Buffy continued to shuffle around the cockpit, still looking for the transceiver, not really listening to what Jack and the pilot were saying. However, she looked up when the pilot started panting with the effort to keep talking.

“Six hours in, our radio went out. No one could see us. We turned back to land in Fiji. By the time we hit turbulence, we were a thousand miles off course. They're looking for us in the wrong place.” At this revelation, Buffy felt her stomach drop. They were more than a thousand miles off course. How can anyone find us if we're a thousand miles off course, she thought hysterically before taking a deep breath in attempt to calm herself down. But the pilot continued. “We have a transceiver.” Relieved that at least they had that going for them, she looked around, noticing that Charlie was nowhere in sight. Motioning to Kate that she was going to go find him, she slipped out of the cockpit, using the seats as leverage as she climbed down the cabin.

“Charlie?” she called, wondering where he went. Suddenly, the door to the bathroom popped open and Charlie emerged, looking a bit odd. “Hey, there you are! What were you doing in there?”

“What?” he answered, blinking a bit at her. However, before either of them could say anything else, a loud roar echoed through the jungle, making the plane shift and creak.

“Come on...” she whispered, grabbing his hand and practically dragging him up the aisle toward the cockpit. Making sure that Jack had a secure grip on Charlie's wrist and had hoisted him up, she grabbed the edges of the door, pulling herself into the small room. The growling continued, even closer than before.

“It's right outside,” gasped Kate, trying to keep her voice as quiet as possible.

“What? What's outside?” asked the pilot, but Jack shushed him loudly, straining to hear what was going on outside.

The growling continued, as branches crunched and shadows passed through the cockpit's broken windows. Moving toward the window, Jack attempted to wipe it free of rain, while the pilot got out of his seat, moving a few branches out of his way so that he could out of the window. Without warning, the plane gave a terrible jerk, and the pilot was wrenched out of the cockpit, screaming and kicking in an attempt to get free. Buffy leaped into action, ignoring Kate's scream and Charlie's startled yell, grabbing the pilot's feet in an attempt to pull him back into the small room, but was forced to let go as he was ripped completely out of the cockpit.

“What the hell just happened?” yelled Charlie, but the other three were in too much shock to answer him. The plane continued to rock unsteadily at its perch in the trees, tilting it so much that the transceiver rolled off the pilot's chair and out of the cockpit, free falling toward the ground. Knowing its importance and not willing to take the chance that it might break, Buffy leaped head-first out of the cockpit and slid down the aisle, snatching the transceiver out of the air, before falling from the plane and landing on the ground outside.

Seeing the plane detach from the tree, she scrambled to her feet, jumping out of the way seconds before it crashed into the ground. Once again getting to her feet, she ran as fast as she could after Jack, Kate, and Charlie, using all her strength to catch up with them. Ahead of her, Charlie tripped and fell into the mud, his feet tangled in a bunch of roots. Skidding to a stop, she grabbed him by the arm, pulling him to his feet, before continuing to run in the direction that Jack and Kate disappeared. Stumbling into a small clearing, she saw Kate, shivering from the cold and obviously frightened out of her mind.

“Kate!” yelled Buffy, causing her to turn around in relief. Looking around, she realizes that it was just Kate. Jack wasn't with her. “Where's Jack?”

“I don't know! I thought he was with you!” she said, eyes wide in fear. Looking toward the sky and realizing that it has stopped raining, she appeared to calm instantly. “We have to go back for him,” she said firmly. Buffy was about to open her mouth to argue, but Charlie beat her to it.

“Go back? There? Kate, there's a certain gargantuan about this thing,” he reasoned, looking at her as if she had gone completely mental.

“Charlie's right. Stay here, I can handle this,” said Buffy, looking between the two. Without another word, she tossed Charlie the transceiver and turned on her heel, sprinting back the way she came. Slowing to a brisk walk once she was out of eye shot of the others, she took a deep breath, composing herself before heading deeper into the jungle. Something shiny caught her eye and she reached down to pick it up. Cleaning off the mud with her thumb, she realized that it was a small aviator's pin, obviously having been worn by the pilot. Hearing a gasp behind her, she spun around to see Kate and Charlie behind her, each looking rather sick. Turning back to see what they were looking at, she saw the pilot's bloody and mangled body draped over the canopy of branches overhead, his face completely unrecognizable.

“What is...” started Charlie, trailing off in shock.

“It's the pilot,” said someone behind them, and the three whipped around to see Jack emerging from the bushes. Seeing him, Buffy let out a breath that she didn't know she had been holding, extremely relieved to see that he had made it. Kate was obviously thinking the same thing, as she stepped toward him, looking him over to make sure that he was alright.

“Did you see it?” Kate asked, coming to a stop in front of him.

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “It was right behind me when I... dove into the bushes.” It looked as if he was going to continue, but was interrupted by Charlie.

“Guys?” he said, pointing toward the pilot's body, and the other three looked up. “How does something like that happen?”
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