Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to either Lost or Angel
Summary: Cordelia finds herself stranded on a island, with little hope of rescue. Re-write of the series Lost.
Spoilers: Set mid-to-late season 2 for Angel. Spoilers up to whatever the latest episode is for Lost.
Cordelia Chase sat admidst the wreckage of the crashed plane. Around her people were screaming, but she wasn't fully aware of it. She knew she should be getting up. She should be helping the others, but right now, she couldn’t move. She began to cough brutally as the wind shifted, sending acrid smoke into her lungs.
She wanted to be back in Australia. She wanted to be lying on the beach, or relaxing in her hotel room. Hell, right now she'd be perfectly happy to be back in dreary L.A. She'd rather be fighting vampires than sitting on some unknown island nursing a cut head and a sprained ankle.
She hadn't even wanted to go on vacation in the first place, but Angel had forced her to go. She had been stressed out lately, with the visions hurting more and more. Angel hadn't given her a choice. He had just handed her a credit card and told her to go wherever she wanted.
She had chosen Australia on a whim. She had just decided that if she was going to go, she might as well get far away. The week she spent in Australia had been great. The food, the weather, the scenery. But there hadn't really been less stress. She had just spent the whole time worried about the others.
And having her plane crash hadn't exactly helped her stress levels either. She wasn't quite sure what had happened, didn't know what had gone wrong. She just remembered hitting bad turbulence. Then the oxygen masks dropped. And then the plane was ripped apart.
"You should get away from the wreckage."
Cordelia looked up to see a shortish young man with dirty blonde hair standing over her.
"What?" she asked, still dazed.
"You should move out of the wreckage, it's not safe here."
Cordelia nodded and got to her feet. She slowly limped away toward a clearer spot on the beach where some people were starting to gather.
"Here. Let me help you." The man moved beside her, and put her arm over his shoulder.
"Thanks," Cordelia said, glad to take some of the weight off her ankle.
"I'm Charlie by the way."
They had made their way over to the others when Cordelia heard a familiar voice from behind her.
"Well, you really are a survivor aren't you?"
Cordelia turned around and glared. "Considering how many people probably died in this crash, how the hell did you manage to live?"
Lilah Morgan smirked slightly, "I guess God smiled down on both of us, didn't he."