The Ending Of Lost We Really Wanted To See

Thanks to the ongoing march of technology, the network TV sci-fi drama "Lost" is available to watch on multiple streaming platforms. But the experience of watching "Lost" as it aired between 2004 and 2010 is entirely unique to its time, and impossible to replicate now. After three years of waiting, finally finding out why John Locke (Terry O'Quinn) can't walk felt seriously significant — but if a mere few days go by between watching "Pilot: Part 1" and the revelatory Season 3 episode "The Man From Tallahassee," the new info might not make your face explode.   

That's why it's difficult to appreciate the extent to which the devoted "Lost" fanbase went to the metaphorical zoo throughout the final season's unfolding in 2010. Did the various exploits and adventures of Oceanic Flight 815's crash survivors conclude to our satisfaction? Well, that's a complicated question that haunts O.G. "Lost" fans to this day. The short answer is, "Not really, but we're okay with it." The long answer is, "Yes, but if we were in charge of Season 6, we'd change a lot of stuff." Though newbie "Lost" aficionados might never be able to experience the wild ride the series offered as it aired, even they can understand the appeal of an alternate finale. These are the elements comprising the ending of "Lost" we really wanted to see.

This might go without saying, but massive spoilers For "Lost" are on the way!

"The End" closes out the series with a handful of characters in the Sideways-verse, all newly aware of their collective post-life status, reuniting in a church. They greet each other warmly, sit in pews, and bask in quiet awe as mystical light engulfs the room. It's creepy, uncomfortable for folks who aren't mega-fans of the casual application of Christian iconography, and, in the opinion of some fans, a sentimental cop-out. 

But bear with us for a second here — what if, like many elements of "Lost," the church is not what it appears to be? What if John Terry isn't playing an implied angel presenting itself in the physical form of Dr. Christian Shephard, but an extraterrestrial being gathering the consciousnesses of Island residents for spooky scientific testing? What if Oceanic 815 never really crashed, and was in fact teleported onto a space station located in an adjacent solar system? What if the folks we think are living on a magic island are, in reality, the subjects of a space alien behavioral study and psychology project? 

If we had to choose between a final two minutes of "Lost" that sends all the characters to Christian Heaven and an ending that pulls hitherto unmentioned space aliens out of thin air, we'd sign up for the "X-Files"-style deus ex machina in a microsecond.     

"Lost" isn't really an action show — it's a sci-fi drama with occasional action sequences. But if there's an Oceanic 815 survivor who embodies the traditional action hero archetype, it's John Locke. He's rugged, independent, lets his instincts guide his decisions, suffers from delusions of grandeur that malevolent forces easily manipulate, and doesn't let anyone tell him what he can't do. Yet ironically, rather than perishing in a Rambo-style blaze of glory, Locke is quietly murdered in a hotel room in total obscurity.   

Of course, Season 5 wouldn't be arguably the best segment of the series without the individual we initially presume to be Locke revealing himself (itself?) to be something quite different. But we've got an even better ending in mind. Picture this: Somehow, after Sideways-verse Locke learns about his death and how it happened, instead of embracing a Pollyanna live-and-let-live (um, unlive-and-let-unlive?) perspective, he decides to get back to the Island and kick some Smoke Monster butt.

Granted, Jack Shephard (Matthew Fox) doesn't need more help rescuing the Island from "John Locke," aka "The Man In Black," aka "the Smoke Monster" in "The End." But Locke surely deserves some retribution against the entity who orchestrated his death and impersonated him. Plus, it could set up a hilarious exchange in which "Locke" yells, "I'm telling you, you can't do anything to stop me!"

Sayid Jarrah (Naveen Andrews) is a dangerous man to date. He succeeds in his quest to track down childhood sweetheart Noor "Nadia" Abed Jaseem (Andrea Gabriel) after his escape from the Island, but as soon as he gets comfortable in his post-Island life, Nadia dies in a very suspicious traffic accident. Losing Nadia devastates Sayid. To make matters worse, it isn't even the first time something like this has happened to him. He and fellow 815 survivor Shannon Rutherford (Maggie Grace) enjoy a brief but intense romance before Shannon is accidentally shot to death by Ana Lucia. Worse yet, some time after Nadia's "accident," Sayid falls for a German woman supposedly named Elsa (Thekla Reuten) who turns out to be a spy. Sayid is eventually forced to murder her in self-defense.   

"Lost" fans of the 2000s were so concerned with mysteries like the meaning of the numbers and the origin of the Others, they forgot to ask why everyone Sayid dates dies horribly. Taken together, it's pretty weird! If we were in charge of the ending, Sayid's story wouldn't end with him exploding in a submarine. Instead, he'd meet his new girlfriend, who just so happens to be an unkillable immortal — kind of like a female Richard Alpert (Nestor Carbonell). This way, Sayid wouldn't have to wait to meet Shannon in the afterlife to date someone who is not about to die.

The death of Juliet Burke ends Season 5 with a literal bang. Jack's plan to blow up the Island's pocket of electromagnetism with a hydrogen bomb backfires, and overwhelming magnetic force pulls just about every metal object within a few miles — including a bundle of chains that catches Juliet's leg — into a deep pit. Juliet tearfully parts ways with Sawyer during his desperate and futile attempt to save her, plummets to the bottom ... and miraculously manages to detonate the hydrogen bomb, saving Jack's plan at the last possible moment. 

If Juliet has to go, at least she gets to create a time paradox on her way to the great beyond. It's an amazing scene, and through a ridiculous amount of overexposure on "previously on ... " segments, "Lost" squeezes every last drop of emotional gravitas it can out of it. This means that arguably, in the interest of repeatedly reminding us that Juliet is dead and Sawyer is sad, the show waters down one of its most impactful moments.

If we could go back and change the negative elements of "Lost" Season 6, we'd only show Juliet's death in the "previously on ... " segment of the season premiere, and maybe the Sawyer-centric episode as well. But that would be all — revisiting Juliet's terrifying demise just isn't necessary beyond that.

By the time we reach the end of "Lost," we're familiar with three phases of Libby's life: Her time in a mental asylum, the moment in which she bumped into Desmond at a coffee shop and gave him her dead husband's boat, and her brief tenure on the Island following the crash of Oceanic 815. Given those facts, it really seems like there's more to her story.

We know Libby was married twice before she met her deceased boat-owning husband. What was going on with those prior marriages, we wonder? What made the boat guy special? Is there any aspect of her background that explains her particular attraction to Hugo "Hurley" Reyes (Jorge Garcia)? Don't get us wrong, Hurley's a catch, but why him instead of the many other available and equally-charming men on the Island? Furthermore, lots of folks want to know what the deal is with that one scene that reveals Libby and Hurley spent time in the same mental institution.  

We're not suggesting "Lost" should've brought Libby back from the dead before wrapping things up, but if we could control reality and change the ending of "Lost," we'd make a little more room for Libby-related backstory.