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Summary: A private jet crashes down on a small island in the South Pacific, leaving only one survivor

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Television > LostShezziFR15712,35024915,01110 Mar 0821 May 11No

Chapter One

A/N: OK, so the plot bunny was trying to eat my brain, and once this was written, I saw no point in not posting it. I do not own Buffy or Lost, they belong the their repective geniuses, whoever they may be :) Hope you all enjoy the story, please leave reviews, help me improve. Oh, just so we're clear: this is set not long before 'Raised by Another' in Season 1, and post season 7 for BtVS. Really hope you all enjoy! love xx Shezzi

Private Jet, Somewhere Over the Pacific Ocean

Buffy leaned back in the chair with a sigh. Dawn sat opposite, smirking slightly at her sister's obvious discomfort.

“What?” said Buffy, grumpily.

“Someone's afraid of flying,” sing-songed Dawn teasingly.

“And that's news?” demanded Buffy, annoyed. Giles chuckled from across the aisle, watching the two girls, while Xander and Willow waited to see what came next.

“What was your favorite thing in Australia?” asked Dawn, taking pity on her sister and settling in to distract her.

“Ummm...Walking the Sydney Harbour Bridge,” decided Buffy. “Although Uluru was also very cool. What about you?”

Dawn smiled at the success of her ploy and thought for a moment. “Diving the Great Barrier Reef,” she declared, settling deeper into the soft leather of her seat.

“Willow?” asked Buffy, curious.

“Ummm...I think my favourite thing was probably Uluru. The magic there was incredible. Did you know she's called the Grandmother of All Rocks?”

Buffy grinned, Willow had only mentioned it about fifty times.

“Xander!” called Dawn, smiling.

“I think my favourite was probably horse riding on the beach,” he replied, grinning.

“What about you, Giles?” asked Willow, when the jet suddenly lurched in midair.

“Guys, we've got some turbulence might want to strap in,” came the voice of James, the pilot. Those who had removed their seat belts in order to move around the jet more comfortably quickly pulled them on, strapping them tightly.

“Well, Giles?” asked Willow, still curious.

“Well, I think the thing I enjoyed most was...” Giles was cut off by the sound of an explosion outside the window. The plane lurched violently to one side, and there was another loud explosion, before a part of the cabin wall ripped away, sucking the air out.

Willow started to mutter under her breath, her hair glowing as she tried to stop it, when a flying briefcase caught her in the side of the head, knocking her out.

Buffy gripped her knees tightly, staring at Dawn, who was trying to say something, but she couldn't hear her. Then something hit her, and she passed out.

An Island, Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean

Kate stood by the spring, carefully rinsing out her shirt in a bowl of water. Suddenly, she stiffened. She could hear something...there! A plane! She ran out of the cave, shouting for the others. She shaded her eyes, searching the sky, and then she saw it. It looked like a private jet, it was too small for a commercial flight...and there was black smoke pouring out of one of the engines. She felt her hopes of rescue die even before they were fully realized; she watched as the plane spiraled out of control, and heard it crash down in the jungle.

When a hand landed on her shoulder, she jumped, whirling to face Jack. “Get a group together. We need to go and see if there are any survivors, and to check if they have a working radio, or anything that might help,” she nodded, and turned down the track to the beach.


Jack shoved medical supplies into his pack, positioning everything where he could find it; added several bottles of water and zipped the top closed. He swung it onto his back, turning to find Kate, Charlie, Locke and Hurley waiting. “Do you know where it hit?” he asked the group at large.

“East of here, probably only a couple of miles out. I seriously doubt anyone survived, it was spinning before it hit,” Locke spoke up.

“We'll see...I mean, how many people would believe that you could survive a crash were the plane broke into at least three distinct pieces?” replied Kate, shrugging to settle her pack better on her shoulders and led the way out into the jungle.


They reached the crash site in under an hour, surprised at how close it was to the caves. They stopped and blinked, taking in the scene of carnage in front of them. The wings of the small jet had apparently snapped off in the canopy, and they lay at opposite ends of the clearing. A body, a red headed woman in her early twenties, lay a short distance from the plane, still in her seat which had apparently been torn out with one of the wings, the angle her head was on making it obvious she was dead.

“Spread out, check for survivors,” ordered Jack. They moved slowly, carefully through the clearing, Jack and Kate heading straight for the fuselage.

Locke stopped and checked the girl for a pulse before moving on, while Charlie and Hurley circled around the edge of the clearing to look on the other side.

Jack entered the main cabin of the luxury jet, and sighed sadly. There was an older man, his glasses still on her face, although knocked askew by the piece of shrapnel that had pinned them there, killing him. A younger man, wearing an eyepatch, had apparently caught a treebranch through the neck when it came through the side of the plane, and a brown haired girl appeared to have a broken neck. As he turned towards the last passenger and reached to check her pulse, she groaned loudly, startling him. Her eyes snapped open, and she stared at him, then her eyes flicked past him, and widened in horror.

Buffy woke slowly, feeling as though she was swimming up through thick, inky black liquid towards the faintest glimmer of light. The closer she got, the more it hurt, but she kept going. Her entire body was screaming in pain, with several high points; her right shoulder, her left leg, her head and her ribs. Suddenly, she heard a noise, and her eyes snapped open. She saw a man with dark hair and compassionate blue eyes reaching towards her, then her eyes flew past him and landed on Dawn.

“Dawn? Dawn, sweetie, wake up! Wake UP! Giles? Xander? Willow? James?” Her voice broke and the last name came out as a strangled sob. She tried to move, to get out of the chair to her sister, and screamed in pain.

“Hey, hey.” Jack tried to get her attention. “Just sit still, I'm a doctor, I'm going to help you.”

Buffy's eyes slowly settled on him, the pain there both physical and emotional. “Where are they?” she asked, sounding broken. “WHERE?” she yelled, when he didn't answer right away.

Slowly, he shook his head, his eyes holding hers. “I'm so sorry,” was all he got out, before she began to cry, to sob, to scream.

Kate was in the cockpit checking on the pilot when she heard the woman cry out. She was surprised, she hadn't thought anyone in the cabin was alive, the pilot was well and truly dead, and she had been starting to look for salvage. By the time she made it back through the twisted wreck to the cabin, the younger woman was screaming, tears pouring down her face. Suddenly, she stopped screaming, as though she had run out of air to use. Kate, after exchanging a glance with Jack, quickly exited the plane to bring the others up to speed, and see if they had found anything.

“Nononononononono” Buffy started to mumble, tried to shake her head, but quickly stopped.

Jack caught her face in his hands, lifting her head to look into her eyes. She was still staring at the girl sitting across from her, and he moved so he filled her line of vision and spoke gently, “I know it's hard, and I'm so sorry, but you need to concentrate. My name's Jack, what's yours?” he shifted slightly, holding her eyes with his when she tried to look elsewhere.

“Buffy,” she finally whispered. “Buffy Summers.”

“Buffy, where are you hurt?” asked Jack, starting to look her over.

“Shoulder, head, leg, ribs,” she muttered, flicking her eyes to indicate left and right. “It wasn't supposed to be this way,” she whispered, eyes going back to Dawn's lifeless form. “I was supposed to die young, I was the one with the destiny. She was supposed to live for both of us. I was the one who was meant to die,” she rambled, seemingly not conscious of what she was saying.

Jack, with half an ear to what she was saying, started a head to toe exam, checking for blood and deformities. She had a large lump on the side of her head, dangerously close to her temple, but no depressions, boggy patches or fluid coming from her ears. Her neck seemed fine, although he didn't really want to move her he knew they wouldn't have a choice. When he touched her right shoulder she gasped, and he felt the dislocation, although her jacket hid it. He left it alone for the moment, continuing his examination.

When he finished, he cataloged the injuries he knew that she had. A concussion, definitely. A dislocated shoulder, several broken ribs, a couple of others probably cracked. Her left leg was broken, both the tibia and the fibula, in more than one place, it looked as though something had crashed down on it with extreme force.

“We're going to need some more supplies,” he muttered.

“Huh?” the girl asked, her eyes on his face again.

“Nothing, I just said we're going to need some more supplies, bandages and the like.” He smiled tightly at her, still wondering how on earth he was going to pull off getting her back to the caves.

“Oh, there's first aid equipment in the top cabinets,” she said, pointing with one finger at the upper row of cupboards, made well enough to not have burst open during the crash. Jack raised an eyebrow and stood, stepping over to them and opening the doors. Taking a step back, he whistled softly in appreciation.

“That's a whole lot of first aid equipment,” said Jack. He stared in amazement, most of the stuff here you wouldn't find outside of an ambulance, some not outside of an emergency room.

“Yeah, well, we generally need it, or we wouldn't have it,” replied Buffy drowsily.

Whirling back, Jack took her face in his hands, gently patting her cheeks. “Buffy, Buffy, stay with me, now. You can't fall asleep right now, Buffy,” he waited until she was looking at him, her eyes slightly clearer. “Stay with me, okay?” she nodded slightly, and he smiled. “Good girl.” He turned towards the opening where they had entered, and called out. “John, Kate, I could use a hand in here,” the two of them quickly ducked inside, proving that they had indeed been listening right outside the door.

“We need to stabilize her before she can be moved, and pop her shoulder back in. Give me a hand here?” He gestured to the cabinets, and the other two quickly helped him lift down various boxes, all clearly labeled. “Locke, come and act as counter traction for me, and be careful, she has broken ribs,” Jack said, setting the box of bandages down and stepping back over to Buffy.

“Buffy,” Jack waited until the girl's eyes focused back on him, “this is John Locke. He's going to help me fix your shoulder, then we'll take you back to our camp and I'll fix you up.”

“Do it,” she grunted, her eyes locked on his. Locke stepped closer, and grasped her carefully but firmly, then nodded to Jack, who took her hand, and spoke again. “Okay, on the count of three. One, two,” he snapped her arm back into place, not waiting for three. She grunted, then smirked at him.

“I've used that trick a few times myself, doc, but you're good at it, your eyes don't give you away at all,” she whispered, then groaned when Jack carefully felt her ribs, checking if any of them were out of alignment.

“Pass me some of those bandages, I'm going to wrap her ribs before we move her.” Kate quickly grabbed several of the broad bandages, designed for tying, not wrapping around and around, and handed them to Jack, who carefully unfolded them, and slipped them around Buffy, moving her as little as possible. He tied them as tightly as he safely could, then secured her arm in a sling and tied it down as well. “We need a splint, and something to carry her on.” No sooner had he spoken than Kate brought over a box filled with different sizes and types of inflatable splints. Jack blinked, then grabbed a small lower leg splint and laid it out next to her leg. After measuring to be sure it was the right size, he took her ankle in his hands.

“Just do it,” Buffy said, when he glanced up at her. She sounded worn out, as though there was nothing of her left to feel anything. Jack nodded at her, then snapped her leg straight, setting the bones as well as he could. She screamed, loudly, then fainted.


They had found, to their amazement, a collapsible stretcher in the back of the supply cabinets, which saved them the trouble of building one. Locke, Jack and Kate packed everything they could carry and left, carrying the stretcher. Charlie and Hurley hung back and started going through the wreckage systematically, putting anything that could be even remotely useful to one side. They found a lot of stuff, medical supplies, some dehydrated food, although not much, and a stash of medieval type weapons that caused a few raised eyebrows. They packed it all up and split it between them. Taking the most valuable things first, they headed for the caves.

The Caves

Jack stood next to his patient, who had yet to regain consciousness. The girl was a mess, but he didn't think she had sustained any internal injuries. It was, of course, hard to be certain, but he was more worried about her reaction when she woke up and came to grips with the full reality of her situation. He turned his attention to her leg, which would have to be properly splinted, and easier to treat while she was unconscious. He quickly laid out several straight, smooth pieces of wood, and bandages, and deflated the temporary splint.

“Kate, I could use you over here,” he called, and she was at his side, ready. “Hold her leg steady, here, and here;” he placed her hands, one under Buffy's knee, the other under her ankle, and unzipped the splint, lifting it out around her hands. He took the wooden splints and arranged them, Kate shifting her hands to accommodate them carefully, then he tied them, wrapping the bandages tightly at several points along the lengths to be sure they were secure. Knowing that there was nothing else he could do for now, he changed the cold compress on her head, and waited for her to wake up.

Picking up his penlight, he moved to check her pupils again. As he flashed the light over her eye, she suddenly gasped, and came to herself. Her eyes flicked back and forth across the cave before landing on Jack.

“Where am I?” she asked, confused.

“This is our camp, we brought you here from the aeroplane so we could treat you,” Jack replied carefully.

“Camp? Why a camp? Why not a hospital, I thought you said you were a doctor?” Buffy was confused, and she tried to sit up, only to collapse back down with a hiss of pain. She didn't remember ever being this badly hurt, not after her fight with the Master, not even after the Turokhan or the First.

“Just lie still. You've got some broken ribs, I don't really want you to puncture a lung. As for why we didn't take you to a hospital, it's because we don't have one. We're stranded here, just like you. We're the survivors of Oceanic Flight 815, we crashed on this island weeks ago.”

Buffy sank back, her eyes widening as she realised what he was saying. Then something occurred to her. “Where's Dawn? Where's my sister?” She stared at him, her eyes begging for her not to tell him what she already knew was true.

“I'm sorry, she didn't make it,” replied Jack, taking Buffy's free hand and rubbing the back of it with his thumb.

“None of the others did either, did they?” asked Buffy slowly. “Giles, Xander, Willow, Paul, they're all dead.” She bit her lip, and tasted blood in her mouth.

“Hey, careful,” Jack grabbed a tissue and pressed it to her lip.

“I'm alone,” said Buffy, her attention no longer on him, staring instead at the roof of the cavern. “Finally, I'm the way she wanted me to be. All alone,” she sobbed, then gasped at the pain in her ribs.

“What about your family?” asked Jack, curious.

“They were my family, all that was left. There is no-one else,” her eyes flicked back to him, and she blinked tiredly. “I'm tired, Doc.”

“You have a concussion, Buffy. I need you to stay awake; it's not safe for you to fall asleep right now. Would you like some water?” When she nodded, he grabbed a cup, with one of the few surviving straws, and held it to her lips for her to sip. She drank several mouthfuls, then smiled slightly at him.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Her eyes started to drift closed, and Jack quickly grabbed her face, causing her to open them again.

“Stay awake, Buffy, stay with me.” When her eyes were focused on him again, he smiled, and picked up her hand.

“So, Doc, how do you plan on keeping me awake?” she asked, her tone drowsy.

“How about you tell me a story,” said Jack.

“Like what?” asked Buffy, frowning.

“Where were you traveling from?” asked Jack.

“Australia. We went on a business trip and combined it with a holiday, got to see most of the country,” Buffy smiled slightly, remembering some of the things they had done.

“Come on, Buffy, it'll be fun,” cried Dawn, pulling at her sister's hand.

“Standing on a narrow ledge hundreds of feet up in the air does not strike me as fun, Dawn. More like suicidal,” replied Buffy, eyeing the bridge uncertainly.

“You'll love it,” Dawn replied, pushing her reluctant sister in front of her. “Anyway, Giles already paid, so, unless you want all that good money to go to waste, you'll strap on this harness, and up we'll go.”

Buffy chuckled slightly at the memory.

“What?” asked Jack, curious.

“Oh, when we were in Sydney, my sister Dawn convinced me to walk the Sydney Harbour Bridge with her. I didn't want to, but I did it because she asked. Funny thing is, it turned out to be my favourite part of the whole trip.”

Jack smiled and nodded his understanding. Just then, Claire approached, one hand on her stomach, and smiled at Jack.

“So, this is our new arrival, huh?” she asked, curious.

“Claire, this is Buffy. Buffy, meet Claire. How are you feeling?” he asked the extremely pregnant woman, his concern obvious.

“Fine, Jack. Tired, as big as a house, but fine.” Claire gave him a mock-glare, then turned her attention back to Buffy. “I think your new patient needs that concern more than I do,” she told him.

“How far along are you?” asked Buffy, curious.

“Eight and a half months, give or take,” replied Claire, smiling slightly as she ran a hand over her distended belly.

“You're lucky. Family is very important,” Buffy told her, her expression completely blank. Jack smiled sadly, squeezing her fingers gently. “I can't stay awake, Doc,” she told him, trying to shake her head. “Wake me up every half hour, whatever, but please let me go to sleep,” tears formed at the corners of her eyes, running to and disappearing in the hair behind her temples.

Slowly, Jack nodded, and her eyes drifted closed. He sighed, then stretched slowly. Pulling up a log, he sat down beside the make-shift bed, studying the girl carefully.

“How bad was it?” asked Claire quietly.

“She's the only one who made it. There were five other people on that plane, all killed in the crash. Her entire family, at least from what I've gathered so far. She has a concussion, so the information may not be all that reliable,” Jack shrugged, then turned his full attention to Claire. “You sure everything is all right? You look a little pale, are you sleeping enough?”

“I'm fine, Jack, I promise.”

Jack frowned. “Why don't you take a nap,” he suggested, pointing to his own bed, a couple of meters away. “Get some rest, you never know when the next boar is going to come racing through camp in the middle of the night,” he chuckled.

“That only seems to happen on the beach, but all right, I'll take a nap,” replied Claire, in her 'humoring the doctor' tone.

“Thank you,” replied Jack, his own tone showing that he knew what she was doing, but since it meant she did what he wanted, he didn't mind. He watched as she carefully settled herself on his pallet, then turned his attention back to Buffy. He checked her bandages, particularly the ones on her ribs, that they were holding them firmly but not too tight. Satisfied, he sat back, checking his watch for when he needed to wake her up.
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