Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Walt thought when the plane crashed it was like some sort of adventure. Like one of those roller coasters he went on that one time at the amusement park his mom had taken him to except he got sick on that one really tall ride and no one died there.

The first few days were pretty cool, except he was scared when he thought Vincent was dead and his dad just wasn't telling him. But now he had Vincent and he even had his friend Mr. Locke. But it was starting to get pretty boring on the island especially when Mr. Locke was gone all the time hunting and no one else would play that game – what was the name again? – with him. He was ready to go home.

Except he remembered that his mom was dead and he didn't have a home anymore.

Since there was nothing to do, Walt decided to watch people. There were so many, maybe he could make up his own stories about them to pass the time. He sat on the sand and stroked Vincent's soft fur and was glad that he at least had his dog. If not for Vincent, he'd have no one. Well, he had his dad, but he hadn't seen him since he was four, and he was just a baby then so he didn't really remember him. He did remember the cool presents his dad had sent and in his bedroom he had a picture of him and his mom in a drawer.

But Vincent was his constant companion the one who was there for him during those really scary moments like when Mrs. Watson from next door had picked him up from school with that creepy look on her face and then they got home and there were more adults and no one would talk to him. All he heard were whispers of 'it was so sudden' and 'we've called the boy's father' and Walt just wanted to see his mom. But no one would tell him where she was. Vincent was there when Mrs. Watson had come in and told him that his mom was dead. Vincent was there when his dad came to the house and told him that they were moving to LA and Walt had just cried.

But Walt didn't want to think about that. So every day he'd sit on the sand and entertain himself by making up stories about the rest of the people on the island. He thought Jack was kind of like a superhero and that big guy was like the sidekick. He called them DocMan and Dude. Their adventure of the day was chasing Vincent out of the food supply tent because he wanted a snack. So now Vincent had to be tethered (he had learned that word from Mr. Locke) to a tree in the shade and Walt didn't want to sit there because it was near the forest and the forest kind of scared him. Stupid dog. He kicked at the sand and sat back down with a stick he had found.

He saw the British man and the pregnant lady smiling at each other. He thought that maybe they were married and the baby was safe, and when it was born maybe he could help take care of it. He had always wanted a brother or sister and that kid would be lucky because it would have two parents.

The man with the scowl on his face (or that smirk) was coming to sit in the chair near him. Walt stopped tracing the stick in the sand because he thought maybe it was too girly. This man reminded him of cowboys in westerns that he would watch before it was bedtime. All he was missing was the hat. But Walt couldn't decide if he was the bad guy or the good guy. He was wearing black, but sometimes, when no one else was looking he would pull out a letter and look really sad. Maybe his mom died too.

--

Sawyer flopped down in the airplane chair. Christ it was hot here. And he knew by nightfall it would be cool and he'd be wishing for the warmth. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, inhaling the nicotine and wondering what the hell he was going to do when he ran out of cigarettes. But he didn't want to think about that now.

He pulled Watership Down out of his back pocket and began reading. Of course, he tried to look as disinterested as possible but really the story was interesting. And it was about fucking rabbits. He thought it was some kid's book but then as he started reading, he realized it might be a useful tool, learning how to survive. Like the stupid rabbits did.

He felt someone's eyes on him and he looked up quickly and saw that little black kid looking quickly down.

"Got a problem, kid?" He snarled.

Walt shrugged. "No." He paused. "What are you reading?"

Sawyer set the book down and took a long drag on his cigarette. He eyed the kid carefully. "Nothing really. Just some dumb book about rabbits." He saw the disappointment in the kid's eyes. Ah, there was guilt, his old familiar friend. He cleared his throat. "I, uh, found some other books."

Walt's eyes lit up. "Really? What kind? All I found were some comics in Spanish."

Sawyer felt stupid. "You can read in Spanish?"

The kid laughed. "No. I just looked at the pictures."

Sawyer tried not to look like he was enjoying the conversation, but this kid was the first person to not look at him with absolute hate. Not that he wanted to be liked, look where being liked got Doc Metro. He had to make all the decisions and if they were bad ones, take the blame. He had to be everyone's savior. No matter what Doc had said last night, Sawyer was still looking out for himself. And he would continue to. But it wouldn't hurt to talk to the kid. He'd heard the kid's dad talking to Mack the Knife about his mom dying and how he hadn't really seen the kid for a long time. The kid sort of reminded him of his nephew. Sawyer tried to ignore the pang of loneliness when he realized that he really might never see his family again.

He stood up and handed the book over to Walt. "Here." He started to walk away and stopped slightly, "I'll bring you others later." He strode off into the sunset.

If Walt concentrated hard enough, he could almost hear the western music playing as he walked off into the sunset. He smiled and opened the book.