*{Fandom Imagines}*

➵ Jack Shephard - Rocks

I'm re-watching Lost atm and I forgot how amazing it was, it's bringing me so much nostalgia. I was thinking about it at 1am the other night and this stupid idea came to mind. You're welcome.

Reader: Gender unmentioned
Warnings: Plane crash scene description - idk what you expected
Word Count: 1806

Y/N's POV

We'd been stranded on the island for two weeks now. In that time, we'd attempted to salvage as much as we could.  Tarpaulin littered the beach in makeshift shelters. Some people had decided to build home-like structures out of wood, tarp, and other materials whereas others took refuge in stable parts of the broken plane.

I shared a tent with Kate, a person I'd somehow become close friends with since we'd crashed. She was the first person I saw once I'd woken up.

___

I remember slowly stirring, the sun beating down cruelly on my eyes. I tried to lift my arm to block out the light, but gasped as I found a searing pain burning through it. As I tried to make a sound, a signal to anyone that could tell me what was going on, a reassuring hand pressed itself to my shoulders. Her voice was soothing, and the woman had the sense to help me sit up so that I could take in my surroundings.

I found that I was sitting in a mixture of sand and grass, in front of me later the most horrifying scene I had ever scene. A giant plane wreck laid directly in front of my eyes, people were running around frantically, screaming. I raised a hand up to my mouth as my eyes followed the different distressed people.
A child wandered around aimlessly, his eyes scanning the crowd, presumably for a parent. A young lady stood in tears, clearly mortified, and screaming out the name 'Boone'. There was a man with his legs trapped under neath a heavy piece of the wreckage, crying out for help as people collected around him.

I looked to my side to see the woman who helped me. She had light skin and freckles dotted across her cheeks, she looked at me with concern in her Apple green eyes. Dark brown hair cascaded in messy waves around her shoulders.

"What happened?" I asked her, my voice breaking as I spoke.

The lady's eyes scanned the wreckage painfully before she turned her attention back to me.

"We crashed. The plane split in half, the tail end is nowhere to be found and I don't know where the cockpit is either. You were pulled out of the ocean by that man in the suit," she stopped for a moment to point at a man with short black hair who was helping the trapped man, "He told me to keep an eye on you. He said your arm is damaged. But it'll be alright."

Tears brimmed her eyes as she spoke. I didn't blame her, I was terrified out of my mind.
Without hesitation, I pulled her in for a hug. God knows we both needed it.

___

After the sun began to melt into the horizon and everyone had calmed down from the initial hysteria, I found myself still sitting in the same place as before.
The man who pulled me out of the water - Jack, he said his name was - had come to look at my arm. The short sleeve of my shirt had burned away and the flesh had charred, but it wasn't much for me to be concerned about. It turned out that he was a doctor and was helping everyone on the beach.

I offered to help Jack with the little things he was doing, but as soon as I stood up I let out a gasp of pain. Groaning, I stumbled back down to the floor, unable to put any pressure on my left ankle. Jack bent down to check it out. Thankfully, it was only sprained, but it meant that I couldn't really do much to help at the moment.

From then on I stuck by the side of the woman who had helped me. I'd learned that she was called Kate.
We had become friends quickly, maybe because we were around the same age, maybe because we had met each other at the peak of the crisis.
She'd tell me what was going on and helped me to walk for the first couple of days while my ankle was still healing.