wallwalker

Rachel's death left horrible scars on Locke's mind. He still had nightmares about it, even after so many years. He would close his eyes and see images of Rachel dangling from the ledge just long enough to give him time to think of saving her, before her fingers slipped free.

The worst of it was remembering how much she had hating caving with him when they had first started keeping company. One conversation always came back to haunt him, no matter how much he tried to ignore it. "It's so slick down here! I always feel like I'm going to fall," she had protested on one of their earliest trips, clinging tightly to him as they picked their way down. "Can't we go and search for treasure somewhere up above?"

"But the treasure's down here, because if it were up there someone would've found it already. Don't worry so much - I've been doing this my whole life!" It was true - much of his childhood had been spent playing in abandoned mine shafts. "You won't fall. I'll make sure of it. I promise!"

She'd answered that with a short, nervous laugh. "Oh, Locke," she had said, squeezing his hand tight, "you shouldn't make promises you might not be able to keep."

Those words had bubbled back to his mind as he'd waited for her to wake up. He hadn't kept his promise, just as she'd feared.

The worst part was that he'd be the one in bed if she hadn't pushed him aside. He would be the one that had woken up three days later, his memory gone. She'd put herself into danger, and he couldn't keep his promise because she was protecting him.

He couldn't repeat that mistake. He would protect what he loved, no matter what.