The plan worked, and flight 815 is headed for LA. But Jack was wrong. He said it would be like it never happened. Some remember perfectly, for others it's a distant dream, but it's there. But the bomb droppers never stopped to think what this meant for others, Desmond, Penny, and Juliet, and the others. What is happening to them?

Flight 815: Destination LA

He was the first one who remembered.

It wasn't a true memory. Nothing he could place, but it was there. He felt her hand, slipping through his. He heard her cries; cries that made him crumble into almost nothing. "I love you so much," she whispered. And she let go.

Sawyer's eyes opened with a start and his head snapped up. There was an annoying beeping noise. The seatbelt signal. He was on a plane. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was all a dream. A vivid, realistic dream, but a dream nonetheless. He reached his hand up to his face. He felt a stream of water on his cheeks. He was crying? He turned away so no one could see. How embarrassing. Since when do dream make you cry? And since when do I cry? Sawyer thought.

He contemplated his dream. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it. He couldn't see the girls face. He didn't know her name. But he knew that in the dream, this girl was his world. And even though he knew it wasn't real, he felt a wave of grief at the thought of losing her.

Sawyer was still trying to forget about this imaginary person when he saw someone stand up in a panic. It was hard to miss, this guy was huge.

"What am I doing here?!" The man shouted eyes wide in terror. "How did I get here?!" He was bashing his arms around, making a giant scene. It would have been tremendously embarrassing, if not for the fact that many others were asking themselves the same question. They couldn't remember where they've been, but something told them it wasn't here.

A group of flight attendants attempted to calm him down. "Sir, we are going to have to ask you to sit back down and put your seatbelt on," one of the women said. As Sawyer turned back to look at the commotion, his eyes met with a girls across the aisle. She was in handcuffs, next to an officer. Her freckles stood out to him for a reason he couldn't understand. She felt it too. An unexplained feeling that went deeper than physical attraction. She finally looked away in a mix of embarrassment, confusion, and overwhelming emotion. An image of a cage broke into her consciousness, but it was gone as soon as it came.

"Get away from me!" The large man yelled as another woman tried to reach out a reassuring hand.

"Hurley, its okay," someone said from a few rows back, rising out of his seat.

"How do you know my name?!"

Jack thought about this for a moment. How did he know that? He couldn't remember. He shrugged it off, and sat back down, but couldn't stop a tiny chill from running down his spine.

*

The man, Hurley, had finally relaxed, Claire noted. The baby was kicking wildly. She put a hand reflexively up to her large belly. "It's okay, baby," she cooed. "We'll be there soon." But Claire had a feeling that her baby wasn't kicking out of impatience; even he could tell something wasn't right. Like he was ready to be let out, like he didn't want to be trapped in the darkness again…

"It's the strangest feeling in the world" She heard the man from the seat behind her say. "Just a second ago, I was thinking about the wedding, and now…I can't describe it…like I've been sleeping for-forever."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," the women responded, "I was wide awake, about to ask you what you wanted to do first, and now I feel like an entire lifetime was stuck in the middle and then pulled out. But it wasn't really life, more…darkness."

Suddenly, Claire had a flashback:

She was reading something, looking at pictures, in front of a crowd of people near a tame fire.

"Steve and Kristen. I-I don't know their last name but, um, they were really in love and were gonna get married. At least, wherever they are now, they're not alone."

Claire looked down at the scrapbook once more, the two happy faces, before moving on to the next name.

She looked behind her. It was them.

*

Names were being called out. Names people had never heard or spoken before, but suddenly had the urge to scream.

"Kate?"

"Sayid?"

Shannon?"

Everyone was trying to figure out how they knew the very words slipping of their tongues.

*

"What…is…going…on?" Jin looked to his wife.

Sun gaped at him. "You speak English?" She gasped in her native tongue.

"What?" Jin was speaking Korean again, just as surprise as his wife was. "No, I don't, I don't know how I knew that…"

The two looked at each other intensely for a moment before suddenly bursting into tears. They hugged and pressed their lips together. "Jin! I can't believe you're here! I've missed you so much! More than you can believe!"

"Shhh, it's okay. I'm here now. We're okay."

They were both speaking English. Neither knew where this came from. Sun was planning on leaving him, just a few hours ago. And why would we miss each other? Sun asked herself. We haven't been separated in God knows how long. Hell, we've been together this entire day.

Jin wasn't upset or even surprised that Sun knew perfect English. And bigger yet, Jin could speak it as well. It's true, they had spent all day together, but both felt like this was a long awaited reunion.

*

Tears were falling down Rose's cheeks for reasons she couldn't even begin to comprehend. Bernard was only in the bathroom, he'd be back in a minute. So why did she feel like this small separation would lead to an eternity of aloneness?

"He'll be back," the man in the seat next to hers reminded her.

It took Rose a moment to remember that she had told him about her husband. It had just happened, but it seemed like years.

*

She was looking for something, but she couldn't figure out what. All she had was images, strong enough to make her wander the plane, looking at every face, even as the seatbelt light flashed. Some attendants asked her to sit down, but gave up when she ignored them. They were overwhelmed by the feeling of loss and missing shadows of the past as well.

She tried to fit her flashes together. A purple dress, a laundry room, cliffs, an exercise walk, piles of food, a man…a gun…a pillow…blood. What did it mean?

"Ma'am, would you mind sitting down, please?" the sixth flight attendant asked exhaustedly.

"Yes, very much so." Libby said as she stormed past her.

"Ma'am!" The women called as she rushed after her. Libby quickened her pace. She could feel it, almost there. If only she knew what it was.

*

More names were being thrown across the plane. They were bouncing off the walls, echoing through the aisles. But no one knew how to respond. No one knew who was asking for them. No one knew who they were asking for.

"Joanna?"

"Anna?"

"Eko?"

"Aaron? Charlie?"

"Claire?"

*

The words came out quietly and shakily. "Dad, I forgive you." Walt said; eyes wide and staring into the distance.

Michael smiled and wrapped his arm around his son. Walt hadn't talked to him much. He couldn't accept that this stranger was his father, and as of only days ago had legal rights over him. This was the first time he'd even called him Dad. Maybe Walt had decided he was okay with Michael coming into his life uninvited. Maybe he'd been forgiven for turning the child's life upside-down.

"For what, Son?"

Walt was still staring at the blonde woman walking through the plane with a flight attendant calling after her. He gave the slightest nod. "For killing them."

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