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Neal had weathered disappearances before, ever since he first came to the island. Once Peter went, though, Neal began trying to harden himself against the inevitable, that people he cared about would go, and he had no say in it. In some respects, it was just like home: keep your ties light, so they can't be used against you.

He'd never been able to stop himself from falling for a beautiful woman, though, so even in that respect, the island was nothing new.

He hadn't lost anyone close to him in a while, but he knew it was rough for Kate and Lilo, and the disappearances made him think about things he couldn't promise: I'm never going anywhere, he wanted to say, but in this, he had to give up control to the island, and Neal had never excelled at letting anyone or anything have control over his life.

Neal stretched out in bed, a glass of wine on the bedside table, and a sheaf of papers in his lap. He sketched idly on the paper, not with any real intent other than taking his mind off of how overwhelmingly sad everyone seemed to be these days.

It was working; he was so focused on the drawing (and the wine) that he didn't hear Kate come in.
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notgoingtorun

October 2013

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