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Whatever's Left

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Summary: When she boarded a plane in Sydney, Willow wasn't prepared for the life altering events that would follow.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Television > LostJamiFR1524,4881143,8863 Mar 0518 Mar 05No

Whatever's Left

Title: Whatever’s Left

Author: Jami


Rating: 15

Pairing: Not sure yet, possible W/Jack, maybe W/Sawyer (‘cause he’s just yummy). There is some W/Kennedy, but just in flashbacks.

Category: BTVS/Lost

Disclaimer: Don't own them. Whedon owns BTVS; ABC, J.J. Abrams, and all the respective producers own Lost. I’m just borrowing them, I make no profit.

Spoilers: Through Season 7 and finale on BTVS, “Homecoming” on Lost, just to be safe, but this story begins at the start of the first season.

Summary: When she boarded a plane in Sydney, Willow wasn’t prepared for the life altering events that would follow.

Notes: Claire didn’t get kidnapped, everyone is still living on the beach, other than that everything stands. Pairings are up in the air. If you have a preference let me know.

1: Somewhere a Clock Is Ticking

Time didn’t really seem to have much meaning at the moment, she mused with a sullen shake of her head. Normally vibrant strands of red hair lay mostly flat, if not a little tousled, some plastered to her face partly from sweat and salt water. She had splashed a little water that had rolled in with the tide on her face, to clean away any lingering blood. She had managed to only wince a few times when salt met open wounds, but she sucked it up like any Scooby would. After all, she had had worse injuries.

But everything else was a first, after all, she was the only person she knew who had been in a plane crash. There’s a first time for everything, she supposed.

She wondered if this was some sort of continued punishment from the Powers for her tiny stint as Evil Willow. But then again, if it was really retribution, wouldn’t she have died with the rest who still lay smoldering in the remnants of the plane? Either way, there was nothing she could do about it now. She was stuck on some deserted island, without a friend to cry to, and with little hope of rescue. And on any other day she would attempt some sort of spell, a locating spell, conjure up a whammy of a flare gun maybe? But her magic was…gone. A bitter wave of anger and hurt swept through her at the thought. She was powerless when she needed it the most.

“Hey.” The voice came from her right and Willow turned slightly to get a good look at the man approaching. He was tall without being too tall, a brunette, more than a little disheveled, but she could sympathize. His eyes were filled with both anxiety and concern, as if he wasn’t too sure what he should be doing, but unable to just sit still when people needed help.

“Are you alright?” he asked, eyeing her critically as he approached her, bending down and taking a seat beside her in the cooling sand. “How’s your head?”

“I’m okay,” she assured him, sparing him a wane smile. It had been a few hours since the initial craziness of the plane crash and around them people were reluctantly beginning to settle. Normally she would have expected to be amongst the group of people setting about to giving aid to others, but shock and exhaustion had taken their toll so she found herself reluctantly on the sidelines. “My head is a little achy, but the bleeding’s stopped…” she trailed off with a shrug.

“Good,” he nodded, carefully looking over the abrasion on her forehead. “You took a pretty hard blow to the head, you may have a concussion,” he frowned in consideration. “Think you can stay awake for a couple hours, just to be safe?”

“I don’t think I’ll be sleeping anytime soon,” she admitted with a grim smile and he simply nodded understandingly. Her gaze fell once more to the horizon, watching silently as the sun began its descent toward the glistening ocean, fully expecting to hear the rustling of sand and cloth as the man left her side. Instead only the murmurs of the other passengers and the sounds of waves breaking against the shore met her ears.

Curious, Willow turned her head, mildly surprised to see him still sitting there.

“It’s beautiful,” he commented absently as his eyes remained steadily on the ocean ahead. She had to agree, the entire island, from what she had seen, was beautiful, if you ignored the burnt out remains of the plane and all the bodies left inside. Yeah, it was a real paradise.

He let out a deep sigh and turned to face her, his face suddenly tired. “I’m Jack,” he announced, offering his hand politely. She shook it as firmly as she could manage.

“Willow,” she replied in kind. Their hands dropped away and their gazes soon enough drifted back to the shore as they lapsed into an awkward yet comforting silence. “Do—do you think they’re looking for us?” she wondered, more to herself than anyone else, the question hanging precariously in the air.

“I—I don’t know if they have a clue where to look,” he admitted with much melancholy. Normally he wouldn’t say such a thing, especially not to someone who had just survived the same horrific event he had, but unlike many of the other passengers, she wasn’t hysterical or seemingly terrified. His response, honest and true as it was, wasn’t going to shake her.

“Hmm,” was her only response, a muttered agreement since she couldn’t seem to force herself to form the words. Her head tilted to the side, resting slightly on her shoulder as they just took a moment to sit and take it all in.

Jack took a deep breath, eyes following the rolling waves as they broke the shore. This was the first time since the crash that he had been able to just collect himself. He had spent the day rushing around the island, tending to the wounded and comforting the dying. That was the toughest part of his job. As a doctor, it was so hard for him to simply stand by and offer his aid and reassurance to someone who had no chance of survival, who knew that they didn’t have a prayer. And unfortunately, today had been filled with instances like that. He did the best he could, but there was only so much he could do. They had extremely limited medical supplies, almost no trained medical professionals, with the exception of himself and the boy, Boone, who had a little training as a lifeguard.

The girl sitting silently beside him had tried her best to help during the initial scramble. He practically had to sit her down himself to keep her off her feet. Willow, he considered, chancing a glance at the slender redhead. She had been bleeding heavily from a moderately severe head wound which had really knocked her for a loop. He had been worried when she initially brushed off his hastily offered assistance, but once she had finally sat down, took the time to calm herself and the bleeding had stopped, he felt a little better. He had enough to worry about without having to keep an eye out for a headstrong redhead who only meant well.

“Are you—” he started, ending the companionable silence amidst the erratic chaos on the rest of the beach, even though things had calmed down some. But his softly stated question was cut off by a brash voice with a southern twang.

“Doc,” Willow and Jack looked up to see the tall blonde hovering above them. Jack couldn’t hold back the slight frown that marred his face. He couldn’t help it. He had only known Sawyer for hours and something about the man just rubbed him the wrong way.

Willow peered up curiously at the newcomer. Unlike Jack, she had not spent much time with the various survivors on the beach. She had tried to offer assistance at first, but much to her annoyance was sidelined by her injury. She hadn’t really spoken to anyone, everyone too busy trying to find lost loved ones and grieving for those that didn’t make it to bother to talk with her. Expect for Jack of course, and that nice guy, Hurley, she vaguely remembered. He had done his best to try and cheer her up for a few minutes before running off to help the others.

She wasn’t sure what to think of the stranger before her. Her instincts told her to be wary of him. There was something about him, that dangerous self-satisfied smirk, that gleam in his eye that just told her to stay away. He was trouble, and if Jack’s reaction was anything to go by, she was right.

“Jack,” sighed a tired brunette from behind Sawyer, shooting the blonde a dirty look. “We need your help. Claire’s having contractions and—” she trailed off, looking off toward the very pregnant blonde laid out on the sand, surrounded by a small group of strangers trying their best to calm her.

Kate looked pleadingly to the young doctor, her gaze both needing and apologetic. He had been under so much stress already and done so much, but it seemed the emergencies were never-ending and she knew he would want to help.

“Yeah,” he grunted as he pushed himself up off the sand, brushing past Sawyer and following Kate at a hurried pace, only to look back over his shoulder, as if to send the small redhead a glance that just said ‘sorry’. Willow just smiled tightly in understanding. He was a doctor and they were in the middle of an ongoing crisis. She would have been more surprised if he didn’t rush off to help the needy.

With a heavy sigh and an aching head, she turned her attention back to the waves and the rapidly descending sun. There was a wisp of sand and a rustle of clothing and she looked to her right to see who it was that joined her now. She was off the beaten path after all, most of the stranded were congregating near the fire they had started in the middle of their makeshift camp to stave off the cold, but she preferred the quiet of relative solitude. She was never that good with strangers anyway.

A practiced, suave smile was directed her way and Willow found herself returning it shakily, shifting a little uncomfortably in the sand.

“What’s your name, darlin’?” Willow had to resist a hysterical giggle on her part. Here they were, stranded on some unknown island after surviving a devastating plane crash, and he was hitting on her. The deliberate suggestive grin, the slowly delivered question in that soft, southern twang. It seemed…unbelievably ridiculous.

“Willow,” she finally replied, her tone more cautious than friendly.

“Sawyer,” he offered with a twinkle in his eye. He looked good and he knew it. She had to hand it to him. Even after the trauma that day, even though their clothes were dirty and torn, they had cuts and blood on them; he still could pull out the charm. It was an admirable skill, almost. Mostly she just found him annoying at the moment.

“Was the doc bothering you?” he asked idly, his disdain for Jack obvious. Willow narrowed her eyes in curiosity. They hadn’t known each other very long and already there was animosity between the two men? But then again, she thought back to her first impression of Sawyer. Yeah, it was possible to have that much distaste for one person in such a short amount of time.

“He was just checking up on me,” she told him, turning her head so he could see the cut on her forehead and the bruise that was quickly forming. “He thinks I may have a concussion.”

“That’s too bad,” Sawyer frowned in something that almost looked like sympathy, but was too calculated. “I’ll volunteer my services to make sure you don’t fall asleep tonight. Doctor’s orders and all,” he said with a wink.

“Uh, thanks,” she stammered, standing abruptly, her hand going to her head as she felt a rush of lingering pain and dizziness. Sawyer reached out to steady her as he too stood, his hands falling to her shoulders.

“You know,” Willow announced, taking a step back and sending him a terse smile, “I think I’m going to go see if Jack needs any help…”

“Don’t bother,” the blonde stopped her with a hand on her elbow, “He’s got everything under control. Just let the doc work his magic.”

And with that her head began to spin.


“I love it in Brazil,” mused Kennedy with a lazy grin as she lay back in the beach chair on the balcony of their little South American getaway.

“Beats the hell out of Sunnydale,” Willow agreed with a bright smile, taking a leisurely sip of her icy drink and admiring the view. Her hand traced the lines and grooves on the arm of her chair and her smile only widened when her brunette companion reached out to entangle her fingers with her own, her nails gently tickling her palm.

“So where should we go next?” Kennedy wondered with a contented sigh.

“There’s always Greece,” Willow suggested, her gaze unfocused as she got lost in her own thoughts. “I’ve always wanted to see the ruins. And there’s Rome, Italy’s supposed to be gorgeous this time of year, and such history. Oh, and Egypt. We could visit the temples and pyramids.”

“Um,” broke in the young slayer hesitantly, “I was sort of thinking less history, more party, Will.”

“Oh,” Willow muttered, slightly disappointed. It was moments like this when she doubted her relationship with Kennedy. They were complete opposites and while the brunette’s utter lust and adoration was flattering, they had nothing in common and mostly likely never would. They say opposites attract, but they never said that attraction lasts. “Well…”

Whatever she was about to say was cut off by the ringing of the phone. Kennedy exhaled sharply in annoyance and dropped the redhead’s hand, her moment of peace and tranquility gone. Willow stifled a roll of her eyes and levered herself out of her chair, padding into their room to retrieve the phone.

“Hello?” Kennedy half listened to her girlfriend’s conversation. “Oh, hey Buffy,” Kennedy just stopped listening entirely at that point. She had nothing against Buffy, but the blonde usually called at the most inopportune times, and usually it was to bring bad news. And from the look of concern and concentration on Willow’s face this time was no exception.

The redhead hung up the phone and turned to the slayer lounging a few feet away, a slightly disgruntled frown on the brunette’s face. “Let me guess, Buffy needs help.”

“Yup,” Willow confirmed, not nearly as annoyed as her girlfriend appeared to be.

“Slayage, or the magical variety?” she asked with a deep sigh.

“Magic,” the witch shrugged. “She said she needed the best, and well, I am the best,” she announced with a silly grin, and even Kennedy had to grin. “And at least we don’t have to bother thinking of our next destination. But we should be packing. We need to leave on the first possible flight.”

Kennedy reluctantly stood, watching as Willow fiddled about the place, putting things in order so they could start gathering their belongings and hit the road.

“So where exactly *are* we headed?” Kennedy wondered, crossing her arms over her chest, looking a tiny bit sullen. She wasn’t ready to give up her paradise just yet, but it wasn’t in the cards.

Willow smiled eagerly, obviously excited. “Sydney, Australia…”
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