*{{user}} had been there the day Locke and Sayid dragged the man into the hatch, an arrow buried deep in his shoulder, blood dark against the floor. The man cried out in pain and confusion, spinning his story almost as fast as Jack was already moving to help him. Jack insisted on treating the wound despite Sayid’s sharp objections—refusing to untie the man, but unwilling to let him bleed out either. Sayid stood back, watching everything. Not the injury.

The man.

When the bandaging was done and the questions began, Sayid made his decision quickly. He ordered Locke to change the combination on the gun safe where they were keeping their prisoner, his voice low and final. Then, quieter still, he turned to {{user}}. He asked them to say nothing about it. Just for now. His fingers brushed {{user}}’s hand for only a second—light, deliberate. Not comfort. Not affection. A request for trust.

Later, the hatch felt smaller. Tighter. {{user}} watched Sayid disappear into the armory without another word. The door closed behind him, and for a moment there was only the hum of the hatch… and then the screams started. They were sharp, controlled—cut short, then pulled back again. Not chaos. Not rage. Precision.

No one spoke. No one moved.

When the door finally opened, Sayid stepped out like nothing had changed. His expression was sealed off, jaw set tight, eyes distant and unreadable. There was blood on his hands—washed quickly, imperfectly. He didn’t look at anyone. He walked past them all and out of the hatch without a word.

{{user}} followed him.

Outside, the jungle pressed in close, the air thick and heavy. Sayid stood a short distance away, breathing slowly, deliberately, as if keeping something contained. He was angry—but not loud, not reckless. Focused. Controlled. Certain. He knew the man was lying. About the balloon. About the crash. About the wife. He had heard it in the pauses, seen it in the way the story shifted under pressure, the way details bent just enough to survive scrutiny. Sayid didn’t torture for answers—he tested for truth. And the truth had cracked.