Hi! I found this floating around my computer and decided to upload, hope it's alright :)

The sky is jet black, there are no stars tonight. As Jack lays flat on his back, gazing up to the heavens, there is no sound. No comfort.

It had been one week since Boone died. Or rather, since John Locke killed him. But letting everything run over and over through his head, Jack didn't really think it was fair to blame Locke after all. He had been the one that hadn't fixed him, hadn't saved him.

In his head, Boone's cries are stuck on replay.

"I'm letting you off the hook.."

When Jack hears his broken, barely audible voice, a pain grows in a deep down place within him, and he can only recognize it at grief. He doesn't know why. He didn't think of Boone as a friend, he'd barely said two words to him since they had crashed. For that alone, he feels unimaginable guilt.

His heart starts to pound, and he feels a lump push hard against his throat. He flips over on to his stomach and rests his chin on folded arms, eyes now staring into the fire that burns against the backdrop of the sparkling ocean. First Joanna, now Boone. Who was next? Who else wouldn't he be able to save?

Choking back tears, Jack grasps on to his pillow and hides his face. When he closes his eyes all he can see is red. Red covering Boone's mangled body, red over his swelling leg. And his dying eyes, feverish and glazed, watching everything that was done to him -inflicted upon him- let me go, Jack. He wished he could go back in time and fix him, cut his leg off - do anything. Maybe then, he thinks selfishly, the dreams would stop.

They came every night since his death. Always there and always the same. He took to sleeping on the open beach under a blanket of stars. He kept away from the campsite, from everyone else, and he prayed for sunlight. There was no use even closing his eyes, because he knew all he would ever see were those same dying, pleading eyes, and Shannon's horrified face as he told her of Boone's demise.

"Hey, Jack."

The voice definitely caught his attention, but Jack didn't move. Instead he closed his eyes tight, refusing to open them only to see the same decaying, bloody body that visited him every night.

"You're not here.." He whispered to himself, "You died, Boone."

When he felt a gentle hand fall against his back, he physically jumped. This was new. They had never gotten this close to him before. Yet, as he turned to face the unknown, his eyes searching through the dizzying darkness for something tangible, h e found nothing but relief as he locked eyes with Kate.

She hovered over him, a worried expression gracing her delicate features.

"Nightmares?" She asked, yet, it was far less a question than a statement.

"Something like that." Jack managed in response. "It's late..."

"Couldn't sleep," Kate responded tiredly, cautiously. "And I was thinking about Boone."

Jack nodded carefully, eyes downcast.

"Jack," Kate pushed seriously, and Jack had a feeling he knew where this was going. "You can talk to me about anything. I want you to know that."

He responded by nodding his head furiously and beginning to busy himself by straightening out his blankets and fluffing up his pillow. Still, she continued, not allowing him to ignore her.

"I mean it, okay?"

Jack knew she was trying to get something more out of him than a simple nod.

She dropped to her knees in the sand, reaching out to grab him tightly by his left arm. "You did everything you could and everyone knows that - Shannon knows that, " She was trying to force him into believing it, as if saying it loud enough, and over and over again, would somehow make it true, "and his death wasn't your fault, okay?"

"Okay."

Jack nodded absently, still not meeting her eyes. It would be so easy to break down, to tell her everything he was feeling and beg her to find some way to help him. But how dare he? Nothing changed the fact Boone was laying in a shallow grave on the beach, in the middle of this god-forsaken island.

"Jack.." Kate said again, her eyes full of sympathy -no- pity. She pitied him. Yet, she still tried one more time. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm okay." Jack whispered, words that fell out of his mouth with no conviction, accompanied by a smile that tasted sickly sweet on his lips.

She stared, her eyes drifting over his face as if she was studying every line and every wrinkle upon it, trying to uncover the truth and find out what he was hiding behind wide hazel orbs. After a long while, he watched her leave with a smile as unconvincing as his own.

If only she knew.

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