One year later
LHR Flight MH003 to Kualar Lumpur

Long haul flights; the annihilator of body clocks, the cramper of bum cheeks and the provider of peculiar food combinations presented like school dinners.

I'm freaking out.

Two months of sleepless nights have paved the way for this day. Ten times I've changed my mind and almost cancelled the flight altogether. But somehow, I'm here; trembling all over and gripping my thighs for dear life.

I'm completely and utterly freaking out.

I can't even curl into a ball. There's so much room in first class that I don't know what to do with myself. At least three people could fit into this foot well so the smaller I make myself, the more obviously uncomfortable I'm going to look.

First class was a gift from Jules. It's the first flight since. She wanted me to be comfortable.

But first class doesn't mean history isn't going to repeat itself.

I want to complete this journey once and for all. I want to land in Malaysia without hiccup and without PTSD. I have to do this.

If I do this, there's nothing to be frightened of anymore. Maybe the nightmares that plague my dreams will fade away. Maybe my parents will finally accept that I am not fragile.

But what if it happens again?

Can one person really survive for a second time?

My breathing is fast; erratic and panicked and I'm aware that the loose strands of my hair cling to my body with an adhesive of sweat. I'm a state. A state that nobody can understand. Nobody but Harry.

I release my thighs and fumble for my phone in my carry-on. Maybe if I could text him or call him before takeoff, I might be able to go through with this. He'll say the right things because he gets it.

Because he's my island Harry.

There's a cough; the clearing of the throat sort. "Miss, I'm sorry but we'll be taking off shortly. I'm going to need you to switch that off." She has pursed lips and hooded, overly made up eyes.

Surely there's time for one measly call or text?

My thumb hovers over Harry's contact but I can feel the flight attendant's eyes on me. She's waiting for me to do as she says; quite impatiently so too. My cheeks burn a furious scarlet as her finger nails drum on the headrest of the seat in front and reluctantly, I switch my phone off.

I'm truly alone now.

And truly freaking out.

My palms are sweaty and my eyes are wide. The flight attendant is walking away, seemingly oblivious, and I can't figure out if that's a good or bad thing. The flight attendants last year were certainly oblivious to the severity of the predicament we were in...

Ok, I'm getting off. Now.

This was a stupid idea. I'm not ready for this. I need to go back to the comfort of my room, my mother's home cooking and my job. The kids are innocent, young and naive to the horrors of the world. They'll tell me stories of what they did at the weekend or their favourite TV shows. I'll tell Jules I'll reimburse her and I'll forget this ever happened.

I'll try again next year.

I go to get up but there's footsteps in the aisle approaching my seat. I'm blocked in. I'm going to run out of time to get off. I squeeze my eyes shut.

I need to get off.

The thump of their carry-on going into the compartment above echoes over my head and I wince. I can feel their presence beside me; blocking my way out and I inhale shakily.

Only a few more seconds, only a few more seconds...

They fall into their seat. I'm not sure if it's the one across from mine, in front or behind but they're still near. Near enough that they're going to see me bolt out of here.

I would quite happily abandon my belongings on board if it means I'm no longer a passenger on this flight. 

I edge forward but the sensation of someone else's skin against my own freezes me in place. Cool fingers attempt to pry my clammy ones off of my phone before sliding between them so that we're intertwined.

My eyes fly open, only seeing the back of the seat in front. Something about their touch is familiar; comforting in a way that makes me want to forget I'm reliving my worst nightmare.

"I hear they're serving coconut on this flight." A deep voice says from right beside me and my rapid heart rate slows to a flutter.

I turn slowly and smile.

Because of course, of course it's him.

a/n: So that's it - the end of Stranded! Some of you weren't keen on the ending and may not like the epilogue either but I am very proud of this fanfiction and feel that this leaves Harry and Sarah's story open to your imaginations as well as to anything else I may decide to do with it later on :) thank you again for sticking with it! 💖