The Woman from the Plane [Lost Fanfiction]

Chapter 8: Intra Machina

Ben watched quietly from the corner as Valerie sat Desmond down in the kitchen. She worked to calm him, softly explaining the true nature of Swan station and reassuring him that he hadn't been exposed to a virus. With her encouragement, he'd removed the hazmat suit, and he'd started to settle down.

While the illness seemed to have passed, her nosebleed had cost her a lot of blood. She'd tried to wipe the mess from her face with the back of her hand, but she had only succeeded in smearing it around. She looked dreadful.

"You said you know Penny?" Desmond asked, wild-eyed.

"Yes—she's desperate to find you. She's got a ship looking for this place—she knows you're here."

"Did she send you?"

Valerie took a moment before responding. "No, Desmond—I'm here to help Ben." She pointed at Ben, and Desmond sneered at him.

"I don't trust him."

She shot Ben a quick glance. "He's alright. I guess I wouldn't really recommend that you start trusting him, but he's not as bad as you think he is."

"Are you sure? Did he do this to you?"

"Do what?"

"Your face."

"Oh. No." She looked around the room for a moment and flinched slightly as her eyes met Ben's. "I have a condition—it has to do with spending time on the Island. There's a lot of electromagnetic energy here—in Swan station. It's the best treatment. As long as I'm here, I'll be fine."

Desmond nodded quickly, eager to believe her.

Ben found the story less credible. He'd lived here for nearly his entire life and had never seen anything like it. And while he was no doctor, he'd never heard of electromagnetic energy as a cure for any illness.

Desmond shook his head, suddenly remembering something important. "So you're sure you don't have a flu?" he asked Valerie, pointing at the ceiling. "Because I have medicines for that—I have the vaccine."

"There's no flu, Des—nothing contagious," she explained gently. "That was a lie they used to keep people here."

"It's not real? Is any of it real?"

"The numbers are important. That's real."

He nodded again, calmly accepting her explanation.

Ben found it strange that Desmond so easily believed everything Valerie told him. She'd had a similar effect on him, he realized. It didn't seem malicious—she was telling Desmond the truth, at least about the lack of contagious illness outside the station. It wasn't even clear that she knew how strange it was that he believed her.

"Desmond," he called out.

Desmond turned to face him.

"Where's the restroom?"

"That's what's on your mind?" Valerie asked incredulously, getting up from her seat.

"You should sit," he instructed sternly.

She complied immediately, flopping listlessly back into the chair.

"I wanted to get her a wet towel," he explained to Desmond, "for her face."

Desmond pointed at a door. Ben went into the bathroom and carefully soaked a facecloth in the running water. He glanced at himself in the mirror—he looked nearly as worn as she did.

He brought the towel to Valerie and she snatched it from his hands, quickly wiping her mouth and hands with it. She dropped it on the table and leaned back in her chair, clearly exhausted.