Don't tell me it's Purgatory [Open]

[Hurley Reyes]

Hurley lay on the mossy jungle floor, eyes darting about behind closed lids. Somewhere in the back of his mind, trapped in a dream like state, Hurley was being chased around the jungle by fried chicken and a jug of ranch.

The funny thing was that he was actually relieved to be in the jungle, the chicken and ranch, well, he kinda just ate those. Walking through the jungle, eyes idly flicking about, Hurley had just bit off the last of the drumstick when suddenly Locke was in front of him, Hurley stopped mid-chew, cheeks filled with food making him look a bit like a hamster.

"Dude.." his words were muffled by the food, but he quickly swallowed. "Locke....you're like....alive...and you're here..." Hurley said tentatively, taking a step back, "um, where's everyone else? Jack, and Kate? Sawyer and Claire?" Hurley kept backing up as Locke approached, his expression blank as he continued approaching Hurley.

"You're where you belong Hugo." Locke said, and it was then that Hurley saw his eyes, one solid white, the other solid black, "welcome, Hugo."

"Welcome to what?" Hurley asked cautiously, ready to chuck his chicken bones if Locke tried anything. Only he wasn't Locke anymore, he was Randy, in a chicken suit. Rubbing his eyes, Hurley gawked at the apparition.

"Welcome to Mr. Cluck's I'll take your order as soon as you're ready." 'Randy' recited off the all too familiar token phrase in a robotic way.

"AHHHHHH!" Hurley yelled, chucking the bone and the canister of ranch, "stay away!! Stay --- "

"Have a cluckity cluck day, Hugo."

Hurley's eyes snapped open, sweat covered his brow. His breaths were short and erratic as he blinked, realizing he was staring up at trees. He was laying on his back somewhere...he didn't know...okay he knew where. Sitting up slowly, Hurley looked around himself in awe. "Woaaah," he marveled, how did he get back here? Slowly pushing himself to his feet, and then pushing curls out of his face, Hurley stared straight up at the bits of blue peeking through the canopy of trees.

He was back.....

Checking himself for any signs of chicken or ranch, and finding none, Hurley deduced that this wasn't a dream and tried to remember how he got here. Well lets see...he was at the hotel, and he saw...."CHARLIE!"

Forgetting all the other events that lead up to this point, he Took off running towards the beach, full speed. Hurley was desperate to make it there, and see his friend sitting with Claire and Aaron, to see that it wasn't true, he wasn't dead, he did remember him, and that everything, all of it, had just been a bad dream.

Well, that or he was crazy.

[Libby]

“I don’t wanna get up yet,” Libby mumbled as daylight began to filter through her still closed eyelids. “Just a few more minutes, Charlie...”

Charlie...

His very name brought it all back in painful clarity. She remembered finding him in his room, no breath, no heartbeat. She remembered screaming down the hallway for anyone to help. She remembered the tears and the pain. She remembered the hospital, the doctors telling her they couldn’t do anything. She remembered the note. She remembered the numbness. She remembered going home. She remembered the pills and the alcohol. She remembered giving up, giving in.

She remembered death.

Her eyes snapping open, Libby took a large gasp of breath as if it was life itself she was breathing in. Why was she breathing? Why was she alive? She was supposed to be dead! She was supposed to be with Charlie! Life wasn’t worth living without him.

This wasn’t her apartment. There was soft dirt beneath her, large tree creating a canopy above her... a destroyed structure beside her...

Then she remembered everything.

She remembered the plane crash, the terror, the pain. She remembered the Others, the children. She remembered the trek across the island, that poor girl that got shot. She remembered Hurley and a picnic and the hatch...

She remembered the betrayal, shock as the bullets pierced through her abdomen. She remembered the pain, and the fear that she couldn’t warn them.

She remembered death.

Scrambling to her hands and knees, Libby’s wide eyes took in the burnt and scattered remains of the hatch. Clutching her stomach, the began to scream.

[Hurley Reyes]

Hurley moved through the trees with an unexpected grace and speed for someone of his size. He might not be the strongest dude, or the smartest dude, but he was pretty spry. That counted for something, especially when crazy French chick brand traps were in question.

He could already see it in his mind, see the happy faces, everyone back together on the beach, they way it was supposed to be. However, all his happy reminiscing soon ended when he heard a blood curdling scream, and stopped dead in his tracks.

Wide eyes looked out at the jungle, and he glanced around, "hello..." he ventured out in a voice so quiet he barely heard it. Pushing his hair back behind his ears, he took a cautious step forward, looking around, trying to remember the geography here, and which way was what. He had thought he knew, but that scream had him so spooked he wasn't even sure which way he had come from anymore.

"Hello?" Hurley called out a bit louder, taking another step forward. That scream, did.not.sound.good. Bending over, not looking down for anything, Hurley felt around until his hand dragged over a large club sized branch, and he picked it up, clenching it tightly. Someone was probably like, being killed out there somewhere. He was not gonna die...again.

Wait. The truck....outside the hotel.... Hurley suddenly felt very dizzy as his memories rushed back. Charlie...he hadn't recognized Hurley or something, and he had freaked out running away from the once rocker, shouting about how none of this was real, and it was all in his head....and then...That god dammed chicken. Hurley frowned, unsure of what was real and what was dream anymore. This sure felt real, he wanted this to be real, it seemed more sane than the other life. Excluding the whole part about him dying and being here...but maybe it had just been one of those really bad nightmares. Where you can't wake up till you die in your dreams, and obviously he was still alive, so the other had to have been the dream. Right?

He was confusing himself now, maybe the other was real, and this was just some kinda cruel and unusual hell. Yeah, that could be it...and maybe...The scream.

Wherever he was, he wasn't alone. Someone out there needed help, and he was not gonna sit on the sidelines anymore. Picking up speed again, Hurley began to have faint memories of his surroundings, he was close to the hatch, well...old hatch. He had just passed the place he found Desmond naked, when he saw something move.

Up ahead where the hatch should have been was someone blonde. It must be Claire, or that Juliet chick, sighing in relief, Hurley hurried towards her, hoping he wouldn't see like, loads of blood or anything, but he did want to be sure she was okay.

"Hey, dude, are you oka----" Hurley froze. No. It couldn't be....he.....she was.......but....."Libby?" Hurley managed to croak out in disbelief, quickly becoming more and more worried that he was actually in a dream here, and that soon he would wake up, and it would all be gone once more.

[Libby]

Through her clouded mind she could hear a voice, but it didn’t register. All there was were the memories. It was like she was right back to that day, back to the day she died. She could feel the bullets tearing through her, the shock and betrayal she felt. She could feel the pain, the fear that she couldn’t warn them.

But now she could.

“Michael!” Libby screamed, clutching at her stomach, her eyes open wide and darting around sightlessly. “It was him! It was Michael!”

She had to stop him. Couldn’t let him hurt anyone else. Couldn’t let him hurt Hurley. Oh God, she was dying. She was bleeding out, couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. Had to warn them. Couldn’t die, not now. They trusted him. She had trusted him.

“Don’t trust... he killed her... shot me. Michael...” Her words turned into another excruciating scream.

[Charlie Pace]

There was no one on the beach. Not a speck of wreckage...nothing. He figured that he was on the far side of the beach, maybe in one of the coves? If he took a side-track through the jungle, he'd be able to pop out on the other side...right?

His shoes crunched under the jungle-brush, and he pushed back the large leaves as he tried to find some landmark that could tell him where in the jungle he was.

"Of course. Find the squiggly branch and you'll know you're in a certain part of the jungle. We shoulda put up signs. Why didn't Jack put up signs? Oh yeah, that's right. We were too busy tryin' not to die. How silly." Charlie muttered to himself. "Lost in the freaky craphole mystery island...prolly all by myself. Wonderful. Bloody polar bear better be dead. I'm not about to be polar-bear brunch." He muttered to himself, as he stepped through the jungle. However, a sound cut through the jungle, not the roar of a polar bear...But a scream. A very loud, very female scream.

"Claire?!"

Charlie broke into a run, sprinting through the jungle to try to follow the sound. Another scream broke the silence of the jungle, and Charlie pushed himself to go faster. "Claire! Claire, I--I'm coming, Claire, I--"

Charlie broke through a section of jungle. Of course he knew where he was now. He was at the exploded Hatch. Brows narrowed sharply as he spun around, trying to see the source of the scream.

"Don't trust...he killed her...shot me. Michael..."

"Libby?" Charlie asked, brows furrowed in confusion. It was as if his head was spinning, mixing memories (or were they dreams?) of Los Angeles, of bathrooms and hotel rooms and McDonald's by the ocean, of shopping and kisses in beds that could have led to something more...

And then, memories of Charlie patting Hurley on the back. Of 'Dude...she's sorta hot. She wouldn't like me, dude. She'd totally get all up on you, but not me. You can like, play the guitar and sing and stuff. I eat.' and laughs saying that people like Libby didn't like people like Charlie, mate.

Her scream broke his thoughts again, and Charlie stepped closer to her, hands up. "Libs. Hey, love! Stop--stop screaming!"

And then as he shifted towards her slightly, he saw Hurley. His face blanched, and his stomach dropped, and memories mixed and overlapped and spun around his head, and his hands shook slightly with confusion.

"Because you're too big! You won't fit in the boat.

"I love you, man. Just remember that."

"Yeah, whatever, dude. Love you, too."

[Hurley Reyes]

Hurley felt like his mind was collapsing in on itself. This wasn't real. Not. Real. Putting his hands over his ears at her screams, Hurley closed his eyes tightly, gritting his teeth. He had to wake up!! This wasn't fair, he dreamt about Libby enough, he didn't need some whacked out nightmare back on this friggen island where Libby was crazy, or whatever it was she was.

She said Michael had shot her, the dude who had betrayed them all. Yeah, real big shock there. But it didn't matter. This couldn't be happening to him! He had thought maybe it was real, maybe it was a good dream, but now...no way dude. There was no way this was anything good.

Hurley peeked open one eye only to find that the friggen ghosts of island past had multiplied. He thought he had wanted to see Charlie..but now...here, next to Libby, it all just seemed like too much. Letting his hand's fall to his sides in fists, Hurley stared at the pair for a moment before shaking his head with a scowl.

"No way dudes!! This isn't real!! NONE OF THIS IS REAL!!" Hurley turned around, trying to run away but he tripped on a root, and fell flat on his face. His head was spinning more now, and he couldn't make heads from tails. He remembered that truck hitting him, and Charlie..the rocker hadn't even known who Hurley was, but he was dead!! Libby was dead...none of this made sense!!!

Letting out a frustrated and muffled yell into the mossy ground below, Hurley slammed his fist down on the ground.

[Libby]

The pain. The confusion. It felt like her mind was being torn apart, two lives colliding. Two deaths. It didn’t make any sense. She had lived here, had died here, yet she had also lived back in Los Angeles. She had missed her plane. She remembered missing it. Then she remembered the man, and why she had missed it. It had been Michael. How could he have killed her in one life yet... saved her in another one? It made no sense. Nothing made sense anymore...

"Libs. Hey, love! Stop--stop screaming!"

Through all the pain and the confusion, through the mind warping reality, his voice was the only thing that seemed to break through. Grasping onto it, Libby tried to focus, tried to ignore the searing pain in her body and her mind.

“Charlie?” she croaked out when the screaming finally stopped. Finally adjusting to her surroundings she forced herself to look up. It was Charlie. He was standing right in front of her. “You’re alive?” Wiping the tears from her eyes, it was then that she finally heard another voice, saw another figure, this one from another life. Both lives. Past. Present. Even as he ran she tried to struggle to her feet. Couldn’t follow him. Knees felt so weak. Lost so much blood. The bullet, the drugs. But he had been there.

“Hurley?”

He had been with her when she died.

[Charlie Pace]

It was almost as if he had two different lives shoved into one brain. When Libby looked at him, his brows narrowed deeply as he held a hand out, taking her own to give it a light squeeze. "Hey. Hey, it's okay. I'm--yeah, I'm here, I'm right here, it's okay." Alive. He remembered dying twice, and neither left a good taste in his mouth. He remembered two happinesses, two different times of good memories...

"Hurley?"

Charlie paled, looking over at Hurley. He remembered Hurley coming over to him, chattering excitedly about the new girl, asking his advice...and he remembered a time where Hurley hadn't even existed.

Dude, girls like Libby like guys like you. They just do. They don't like guys like me.

Libby's not like the girls that like me, Hugo. She's not a giant slut, is she? No, that's what I thought. So she doesn't like me, mate. I manage to get all the girls that like to spend their time with me on their knees. Be lucky. Claire's the wild card in all of this, just to get that clear.

Instantly, he dropped Libby's hand as if it burned him, his brows narrowing almost confused. Ashamed. Of course, the way he was remembering, somehow...he didn't know who Hurley was. Hurley had never been a part of Libby's life and the same with Libby, but the memories he had in his head...well, why the hell did it feel like he suddenly stole his best friend's girl?

"H-Hey, uh...hey, Hurley, mate. Hurley, c'mon. The ground didn't do nothin' to you, man. Stop punchin' it and--and stand up." The worlds trailed off to almost a weak request as he looked over at Libby with a look of both confusion and apology. Suddenly, he felt sick with confusion, with fear.

Why the hell were they back?

[Hurley Reyes]

“Hurley?”

Dammit! Hearing her voice was not making this any easier. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? What did he ever do to deserve to get haunted like this? Slowly raising his head to look up at his former best friend, and..well he wasn't exactly sure Libby counted as a girlfriend, but he had liked her, a lot -- he thought she liked him. There was that kiss after all - and he...

"H-Hey, uh...hey, Hurley, mate. Hurley, c'mon. The ground didn't do nothin' to you, man. Stop punchin' it and--and stand up."

Long curls fell into his face, and Hurley tried to blow them away in vain, finally reaching up a hand to swipe them to the side. His eyes were glued to the pair, just waiting for them to burst into flaming demons and try to drag him away, or whatever other spooky afterlife things ghosts did. Charlie was talking to him now, acting like none of that stuff back in the hotel had even happened...was he the only one who remembered that?

Soul harvesting ghouls or not, Charlie had a point. Besides this way if he needed to run, he would have a better head start. Struggling with his balance, Hurley finally managed to pull himself to his feet, still watching them closely. This was not at all how he had imagined, or even dreamed, a reunion would be with either of these people. If they had somehow ended up not dead that was. No, he had imagined hugs, and tears, and generally a lot less awkwardness.

"So....." Hurley began, tapping his fingers on his thigh as he chewed on the inside of his lip. "Are you guys like...ghosts?"

[Charlie Pace]

"So...are you guys like, ghosts?"

Charlie looked over at Libby, almost unsure of the answer himself, before he let out a slight laugh, both to ease the extreme anxiety in his own mind, as well as the situation in front of him. "You're daft! Ghosts. Pfft! Ghosts have chains and the lot, don't they? Y'see any chains, Hugo? Ghosts." Charlie let a puff of air escape his lips as he shook his head. "Listen to yourself, Hurley. We're--" he paused, narrowing his brows as the memories mixed again in his mind. "Look, I dunno what happened. Alright? I dunno. I don't have a fuckin' clue, mate, and if I suddenly have like...some sort of epiphany or somethin' life changin' like that, you'll be the first I tell. Promise."

He paused, looking at Hurley almost warily before he stepped forwards. "A ghost could do this, then, eh?" Charlie asked, and moved, smacking him hard on the cheek. Whether or not he wanted them to, the tears pricked at the back of Charlie's eyes as he was in front of his old friend again. But the tears were a mixture of sadness and guilt, even if Hurley didn't know what he was truly guilty for. He tried to force a smile, but it came out sad, tugging slightly at his lips.

"Y'know, just 'cause I said you were too big to fit in the boat, doesn't mean you can call me a ghost. That's not cool, man, and, you know? It sorta cuts me. Cuts me in like--" he motioned a circle around the middle section of his chest. "--in this general area here. But, that could be my ribs, 'cause I think I might have broken some? But still, I do feel a little twinge of cutting."

[Libby]

When Charlie took her hand, Libby let out a strangled sob. She had seen him die, yet here he was, alive again. She wanted to throw her arms around him, bury her face in his neck... kiss him and tell him all the things she had been so scared to say before. Then he let her go and the spell was broken. The way he was suddenly looking at her made her heart ache. He was looking at her like everything they had shared was wrong when in all the confusion she was suffering it was the only thing that still felt right. Even if the whole situation made no sense, it had been real.

But then there was Hurley. Hurley who had been so sweet to her on the Island, and who had been Charlie’s best friend. She had been getting blankets for a picnic with him when...

She understood the look Charlie had given her now, though little else made sense. None of this felt real. Back in L.A., that had been real. How could she remember never getting on the plane, yet also remember crashing? How could she remember all those intimate talks with Charlie about their problems yet also talking Hurley down off the cliff’s edge? How could she remember two different deaths yet still be breathing?

As she tried to sort through the conflicting memories, Libby watched the scene play out between Hurley and Charlie and the ache in her heart increased. Finally back on her feet, she couldn’t speak nor move. She could just lean against the nearest tree and watch the two men, the two best friends, her heart bruised and divided.

[Boone Carlyle]

“…I love her.”

His eyes were closed, but it was if the words had a will of their own and had forced themselves out, as if he had been waiting to say them for a long time. He tried opening his eyes but when he did he closed them again immediately. Too much sunlight, well it was LA after all. No. Wait. This was different. What was he lying on? He reached out and felt mud and twigs.

He forced his Eyes open and saw the jungle canopy above him. The jungle, he was in the jungle, he was in a very familiar jungle. He sat up quickly and looked around him. And it all came flooding back to him, everything.

There was a plane, and a crash. They were stranded on an island, him and Shannon and some others. And Locke, the hunter, he had found them found. They had found the hatch. But, there were two planes and two crashes. He got hurt, and they took him to the doctor, Jack, yes that was his name. And then he was back in LA. Then there was another crash, a car crash this time.

Now he was here, and he could hear voices. Voices that he recognised. Standing up he began to run towards them, hoping that someone could maybe shed some light as to why he had all these memories, memories he really didn’t want to have. And Shannon. Where was Shannon? Some of the memories told him she was here on the island and some of them told him she was still back in LA, safe. It was just so confusing. As he reached a sort of clearing he looked at the three people standing before him.

“Charlie?! Hurley?!” he said, not really sure if he was happy to see them, or slightly terrified, “What the hell is going on? Why are we back on the island- why do I even know about this island?! And why do I get the feeling I’ve died. Twice.”

[Hurley Reyes]

Hurley just stood still, watching as Charlie, his Charlie, the one who he knew, and apparently knew him, began trying to explain, and rationalize that he and Libby weren't ghosts. It really wasn't helping him all that much.

"You're daft! Ghosts. Pfft! Ghosts have chains and the lot, don't they? Y'see any chains, Hugo? Ghosts. Listen to yourself, Hurley. We're-- Look, I dunno what happened. Alright? I dunno. I don't have a fuckin' clue, mate, and if I suddenly have like...some sort of epiphany or somethin' life changin' like that, you'll be the first I tell. Promise."

Even as he spoke a small smile began to creep up on Hurley's lips. It felt so good to hear Charlie talking like this again, to feel like he had his friend back. Maybe being dead was worth it, worth this. However when Charlie approached, Hurley stumbled backwards a few steps. He wasn't quite convinced yet, after all ghosts were like, really tricky and stuff. Maybe getting his trust was what it was after all along, and maybe it was -

"A ghost could do this, then, eh?"

"OW!" Hurley shouted, putting a hand up to his stinging cheek, and looking down at Charlie who he now had no doubts was on the same reality plane he was. Whatever plane that may be, hopefully not the dead and hell kind. "Dude you coulda just like touched me!" Hurley complained once more as he rubbed his cheek.

"Y'know, just 'cause I said you were too big to fit in the boat, doesn't mean you can call me a ghost. That's not cool, man, and, you know? It sorta cuts me. Cuts me in like----in this general area here. But, that could be my ribs, 'cause I think I might have broken some? But still, I do feel a little twinge of cutting."

This had to be real. This had to be Charlie, how would a ghost know what Charlie had said to him last? Unless it was actually Charlie's ghost in which case, that was creepy, but why would he want to hurt Hurley? So if he was or wasn't, it didn't matter. This was Charlie, his friend. "Dude, I can't believe its really you!" Grinning despite his tear stained cheek, Hurley was about to go in for a hug when he heard another voice. Turning around to see Boone run out of the fricken jungle like he had been there all along, Hurley froze shaking his head.


"This isn't happening." Looking back to Charlie who he had actually been about to hug, to believe, and Libby, against the tree, Libby. The only girl who ever cared about him, and now what? He was standing here with three formerly dead people, on an island he remembered leaving, and yet he still remembered that accident back in L.A.

No way man. This was just too much, three dead people don't magically come back to life. He had to be dreaming. He was dreaming about his best friend, and a girl he liked, and Boone...well he wasn't quite sure why Boone was here, but it was something!! He probably just ate a bad burrito, yeah that was it, or was it? He didn't know what to believe anymore.

Burying his face in his hands so he didn't have to look at them, Hurley closed his eyes tightly, shouting once more: "this isn't happening!!"

[Libby]

For a moment the tension passed, and Hurley seemed to calm down. Just then someone else ran out of the jungle, someone that Libby didn’t recognise. He didn’t seem to know her either, but he spoke to Charlie and Libby by name. His words made her head spin, they were so familiar. Back on the island. Died twice. It was her story all over again. He must have been from the fuselage, another passenger whose life had been lost while on the island. Another survivor to end up in Los Angeles with no recollection of ever catching the flight. Another survivor to die there only to end up back here with conflicting memories, different lives.

Which one was real? She remembered the crash, the terror when the abductions had started, the hope when other survivors had been found. She remembered Hurley, the hatch, doing laundry... Michael. She remembered the bullets tearing through her body, and taking her last breath. She remembered being removed from the airport, and working as a maid.

She remembered Charlie. She tried to catch his eye but all focus was on the dark haired boy until Hurley started to freak out. That was when Libby finally pushed her own confusion away and stepped forward.

“Hurley, it’s okay,” she said as soothingly as she could under the circumstances. Walking over she stopped, standing right in front of him. Her eyes flickered over to Charlie momentarily before fixing back on Hurley. “I know it’s confusing. We’re all confused. I don’t know what’s happening here, how we’re all here, but we are. This is real, Hurley. We’re all real.”

Slowly she reached out and laid her hand gently on his arm.

[Charlie Pace]

"Charlie!? Hurley!?"

AT the sound of the voice, almost from eons passed, Charlie spun around to be face to face with...

"BOONE?!"

Charlie said the man's name with a surprise that he didn't even know he had. Boone was dead. Boone had been the first one that had died, and yet...Boone was alive. Standing right there. Freakin' out, but still standing. "Oi. Hey, hey," Charlie said, holding up his hands slightly. "Calm down, mate. Um...we're here." he started off, nodding surely. "Dunno how, but...well, here we are, aren't we?" He offered, giving Boone a slightly nervous but reassuring smile, before it slowly slipped into a frown. "You uh...you're supposed to be really dead, mate, y'know that? Cos...cos we were all there. And it really sucked, and--"

A sound made Charlie jerk slightly, and he moved towards Libby unconsciously. Was it that smoke monster thing? Charlie picked up a large stick, feeling rather stupid and yet, it was the only thing he could do.

What was a giant stick going to do against a smoke monster thing?

"M-Maybe there's---there's Zombies? A-And we gotta...fight 'em off. You aren't a zombie, are you, Boone? Cos...cos that would suck. Oi! Zombie! C'mon out y'bastards!"

Maybe that wasn't exactly the best thing to be yelling at a sound in the middle of the jungle. Moreso if it was zombies.