Hey all, this is kind of an epic sequel to my story "Breaking Boundaries." The main part is told in the "present" time: ie, 15 years after the plane crashed. It's told through Hurley's stories, as well as flashbacks by the adults. The kids will be in it some, but mostly it will be chronicling the past (future) 15 years on the island.
I highly recommend reading "Breaking Boundaries" first, because several important changes happened in that one, including the reintroduction of some much-loved characters, a few deaths, and a change in the relationship with the Others. The events of that story are kind of the beginning bookmark for this one.
And, be prepared, this is going to be loooooong. Fifteen years of stories to tell can take a while. Plus, I need some kind of a Lost fix over the summer! So, this is canon up until S.O.S. I'll try to tailor this story based on what we hear about characters in the remaining episodes of the season, but there will probably be some divergence.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it. And no, for those of you wondering, I don't own Lost, or the majority of the characters here. Duh, if I did I'd be writing scripts, not fanfiction.
Hurley loved when the kids would come clambering up into the caves, all sticky fingers and dishevelled hair and bad, mismatched clothes. He loved handing them out chocolate goodies, comic books, and toy sticks.
He felt kind of like Santa Claus that way, only without the fat.
The best part, though, would be later in the day, when the kids would settle down around him, and ask for a story. Hurley loved to tell stories to them about their parents. There was nothing better than reminiscing about the good old days. Or rather, when he was being honest, the good old running from monsters, blowing up science teachers, and getting shot days.
Yup. Good times, good times.
Hurley's DayCare was only open two days a week. The rest of the week the kids would clamber down to Bernard Memorial School, also known as the best darn school on the whole island. They were up to two teachers now: Rose and Hurley. But it was better than when it had begun, with just one John Locke. Hurley shuddered at the thought. Thank goodness for big cliffs, or who knew what the poor kids would be learning.
The parents, meanwhile, were still engaged in building a new civilization. Forty people living on an island was one thing, but now they were up to almost one hundred and twenty, what with the new arrivals, the Others, and Rousseau and Desmond's Ever-Growing Brood of Brats (or, as called in polite company, D&Rs Endless Cadre).
It was nice being inside with the kids, Hurley decided. Better than getting yelled at by Dictator Jack, or getting repeatedly hit on the head by Clumsy Charlie. He could stay out of the sun, and not get burnt, and teach the kids whatever he thought was important.
Well, to be honest, usually Rose did the teaching. But he was a great recess aide.
It was the weekends that he really lived for, though. When Walt would open the clinic and Jack and Sun would go out on their weekly escapade for more medicine. They'd scoured the island, more or less. Now they just enjoyed experimenting with the curious leaves and herbs that they'd never seen before. It wasn't exactly safe, but then again Jack didn't seem to care about safety as much any more.
Fifteen years could definitely change the shape of an island.
"Hugo!" Aaron yelled. "Austin's bothering the baby again."
Hurley rolled his eyes. The kids had arrived.
They always came in a massive bunch. Aaron, the oldest at fifteen, would first gather up his brother and sister, and then walk from hut to hut until all of the children were in a neat little line. Then, holding a piece of string, they would follow, in a more or less orderly fashion, up to the caves. The instant the young ones caught sight of the thick walls, however, all hell was known to break loose.
Usually led by Austin and Diane. Which was no surprise, based on their genetics.
"Are you going to tell us a story, Uncle Hurley?" Star asked, polite as ever.
A chorus of "yeah, Dad," "Come on, Dad," "Pwetty pwetty pwease, Daddy?" agreed with Star. Hurley sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Okay, but just one story, we have to do coloring today," he said with exaggeration. The kids squealed and arranged themselves in usual order. A,B,C,D,E,F,G,H, and I filled up the wall at Hurley's back (he knew those weren't their real names, but it was much easier to remember than Amelie and Jacques and the other crazy French names bestowed upon them by their crazy French chick mother), Star would sit politely at his right hand, Aaron, Liam, and Virgo would sprawl out to the left, Koko would sit in the middle, Hurley would hold onto little baby Mike, and Austin and Diane would run around terrorizing the whole crowd.
"Which one do you want to hear today?" Hurley asked. The older kids had already heard every island story he had to tell. Aaron and Star had even been old enough to remember some of them.
"Tell the one about Dad attacking the Others!" Austin said excitedly. His sister hit him hard in the shoulder.
"No! Tell the one where Mom saved Dad's life!" she said.
A,B,C,D,E,F, and H all asked for a story about Kelvin. G wanted a story about mangoes.
"Tell about the raft," Star suggested.
"What about the explosion?" Aaron asked.
"I want a song," Virgo whined.
"Okay, okay, enough suggestions!" Hurley laughed, holding up the hand that wasn't occupied in holding baby Mike. "Let's see. . .poor baby Mike here has never gotten a story. Maybe I should start at the very beginning for him."
"Does the beginning have Dad in it?" Austin asked eagerly. Diane sighed and rolled her eyes.
"Or Mom?" she asked.
Hurley paused for a moment, reconsidering what story to tell. The one he'd been planning on didn't include their parents. But he, like most of the island residents (now called Crapholopolis by the more well-to-do) had great difficulty refusing the two Ford children anything. They were absolute terrors half the time, but they were also among the most tender-hearted, lonely kids on the island.
"Okay," he relented. "We'll start at their beginning."