A/N: This is a pre-crash, alternative universe story with a much younger Jack and Kate that just kind of popped into my head a couple days ago and I've been non-stop writing it. Basically, that new Matt Damon movie "The Good Shepherd" inspired the whole thing. I mean, not the movie, just the title. I was thinking how I could connect that to Lost, and this story just started writing itself, and I just matched the title. Some events that are on the show will occur later in the story. The first part is set in Los Angeles, and later in New York. The dynamic duo just graduated high school, Jack is eighteen, Kate will be eighteen in a few. I hope that doesn't turn you off of the story. The first chapter is setting the scene up, things will happen in the next few chapters. Also, for those who don't live in the US, the SAT and ACTs are tests that measure your level of college preparedness. I hated taking them, and they're so biased, but oh well. R&R and enjoy. I've got the first couple chapters written, so I'll update in a day or so.

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So it was Columbia. And it pissed him off to no end. Four long years of studying his ass off day in and day out because that was what his parents expected out of him. Four long years of maybe hoping for a break, that all of this was for a reason. Sure, it had paid off. He was going to one of the top schools in the nation. But it wasn't the same. Not because he passed all of his advanced classes with A's, or because he'd scored a 34 on the ACTs, or a 2316 on the SATs. It didn't matter that he'd applied to–and been accepted at–Yale, Harvard and Dartmouth. It didn't matter that he'd pushed himself so hard for nothing, because his father knew the president of Columbia and his entry probably set in stone the moment he was born. It didn't matter that he'd sent a letter to UCLA and told them he'd accepted their offer and had made the decision to go there. It didn't matter, because his father had personally called the school and told them that his son had a prior obligation and wouldn't be attending their fine institution, but thanks anyway for offering.

"It's not fair," he said angrily to no one in particular. Even so, the girl next to him nudged him gently with her shoulder. He sighed, breaking out of his reverie to give her a half-hearted smile. She leaned against him, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"It's going to be alright, Jack." She said quietly. The two of them sat on the hood of his car on the hill that overlooked their high school football field below. They came here because it was well-lit by the field's lighting, but quiet, secluded. This place had special meaning to them. They'd shared their first kiss up here, and she'd lost her virginity to him one warm summer's evening in the backseat of his Fiat. They could talk here, long after the sun set against the backdrop of downtown Los Angeles.

"He's doing this just to piss me off," he stated. She was quiet for a moment, and he knew that she was preparing to change the subject.

"I can't believe we graduate in a week,"

"Kate–"

"I mean, it seems like just yesterday we were sitting down there in those stands listening to Rossum tell us about what it means to be a freshman. And now–we'll be walking out of that field and into the auditorium, and across the stage. Getting our diplomas." She had an almost dreamy look in her eyes, and he had to smile at that. His watch beeped, letting him know it was close to eight. He hopped off the car and helped her down, opening her door for her.

"And they say chivalry is dead," she teased. He rolled his eyes at her and shut her door, before going around to open his own and slide into the driver's seat, keying the ignition and backing slowly down the path and through the school's parking lot as he made his way onto the main road.

"Wanna come over for dinner? Mom's making chicken cacciatore."

"Will you stop trying to make me eat meat?" She told him. "It's not going to happen."

"What, you coming over or eating meat?"

Her face turned sour. "Both. Your parents hate me, Jack. Don't act so surprised."

"They don't hate you, Kate. It's not like that," he told her. He was lying, and they both knew it. He didn't know what it was about Kate that they disliked so much: the fact that she was from a poor, white-trash family, or because Jack was actually dating her despite this, or because his high-school relationship was better than their husband-and-wife relationship. He made a fist with his right hand and hit the dashboard, furious at them both. They didn't understand, because their marriage had never been anything less than a chore.

"Shit," he hissed, shaking his now-throbbing hand. She gave him a reproachful look and silence filled the car for a few moments.

"It's why he's sending you to Columbia, Jack." She said suddenly, wrapping her thin arms around herself insecurely. "To get you away from me."

"It's because it's his alma mater, Kate. He just wants me to follow in his footsteps. Be all I can fucking be. And I don't want to be a doctor."

"He wants us to be apart. Because if we're apart, he thinks you'll find someone else. Someone richer, and prettier and better."

"I don't care how rich the girls there are. I don't care what they look like. You're the prettiest girl I've ever met. You're the prettiest girl I'll ever meet."

"Yeah, you can say that now, but wait until you get there and there are girls who are much better looking."

"So come with me," he said bluntly as he made the turn into his neighborhood.

She straightened up, and blinked, staring at him as though she hadn't really heard him properly. "What?"

"To New York. Come with me to New York. He doesn't have to know. You turn eighteen in a couple weeks, and I don't have to leave until early August. We've got plenty of time to plan this. You can tell your mom you're going with your dad when he leaves for Germany. He'll cover for you, I'm sure he would."

"Jack–this is ridiculous. Where would I live? I don't even have a job now. You know how expensive it is to buy an apartment there? What would I do about food?"

"Relax. Look, my dad used his connections to get me into an apartment. Usually, freshman have to stay on campus their first year. He pulled strings. Said he didn't want me to live in a dorm and have constant distractions. Parties, girls," he laughed. "As if those don't exist if I have my own place. And you could stay there with me. Everything is already covered. You've got a place to stay, food, anything. As long as he doesn't know you're there with me, he'll keep sending the money. Kate, we could do this, I'm serious.."

She still looked skeptical. "I guess–we could try it. But–won't your parents come to help you move in?"

"We'll just ask your dad if he'll help us out. Maybe the two of you can fly in the next day and stay in a hotel until my parents leave. Then he can go on to Germany, and you'll stay with me."

"You think this will work?"

"Kate, he'd do anything for you, you know that. Why wouldn't he agree?"

"Not my dad. I mean–this. This whole plan."

"It will. We'll make it work." He pulled into his driveway and turned off the ignition, digging his hands into his pockets, then turning to her, eyes serious. "We could...play house. Maybe even for real some day,"

It took her a moment to realize that he was sliding a tiny diamond ring on her finger. She gasped, clutching his arm tightly. "Oh my god, Jack."

"Kate, these past two years have gone by in a blur. I know this–well, sudden. I just wanted to do this now, and do it right. We're kids, I know, but–I think this is as serious as it's going to get."

"I–I–Jack, I don't know what to say..."

"How about, 'Yes' for starters?"

"Yes. Yes, Jack."

"You'll marry me?"

"I'll marry you."

He leaned over and kissed her. She put her hand on his cheek, and he could tell she was trembling. And then he realized she was crying.

"Hey," he pulled back to look at her. "It's okay. I'm going to take care of you."

"I know. I'm not crying because I'm sad."

"Come on, let's go eat." He grabbed his keys and got out of the car, and started for her door, but she got out of the car before he could get around to her side. She met him at her door, and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her head in his chest. He hugged her, kissed the top of her head and smiled down at her.

"Kate,"

She looked up at him, grinning. "Jack,"

"Let go,"

"You let go,"

"I'm not letting go, Kate."

"Jack!"

"Kate!"

"Jack!" But the voice didn't belong to Kate. The porch light was suddenly on, and his mother was standing in the doorway, her coat clutched in her hand. He let Kate go then, but took her hand and held it firmly. He knew that in tense moments like these, her first instinct was to get away. He wasn't going to let her. From the light, Jack could see the look on his mother's face was something of disgust at the two of them. At moment later, his father appeared, with his own coat, as he shut the front door behind them.

"Your mother and I are going out to eat," he said, walking past them, barely acknowledging Jack, and paying no attention at all to Kate.

"What about dinner? Mom, I thought you were making–"

"No. We're going out. There should be something in the freezer for you to warm up."

"Order a pizza," his dad said, getting into the driver's seat. He noticed his father never opened the door for his mother anymore. Once his mother was inside, the SUV tore out of the driveway and down the street in to the distance.

Jack stood, dumbfounded, staring after them. He felt a tug at his wrist, and realized Kate was trying to pull him back to his car.

"Just take me home," she said stiffly. Instead, he pulled her up to his front door, and inside his house. The solid smell of baked chicken and vegetables hit his nose the moment they stepped inside. Kate reluctantly allowed him to drag her into the kitchen.

The oven was empty. The microwave was empty. In the sink, a dirty pan sat, steam still rising faintly from the surface. In the trash can, were the remains of the chicken cacciatore. He bent down to pick up a piece of the chicken near the top. It was still piping hot in his fingers. He dropped the chicken back into the trash and raised his head to look out the kitchen window. His car was in plain view. And his mother, his goddamn mother.

"Goddamnit!" He aimed a well-placed kick at the garbage, prompting Kate to utter a frightened scream and back up against the wall. He was bristling with anger and he wanted to throw something, punch a wall. Punch his father. He hated them both.

The soft whimper from behind him softened his resolve. He turned to Kate, who was looking at him with a mix of emotions, tears in her eyes. He sighed heavily, moving toward her. To his surprise, she backed away from him.

"I want to go home," her voice quavered.

"Kate, please." He was exhausted, mentally and physically. He had expected to come home to a hot meal. He knew she was right, that his parents were pushing them apart, trying to drive a wedge between them.

"I want to go home," she repeated, firmly now, her hands clenched into fists at her side. He took a step toward her and saw her tense.

"Don't do this to me, Kate. Not you, not now."

"You do this, you get so violent, and I don't want to be here to deal with that."

"I'm not violent. I'm just pissed off at my poor excuse for a family."

"You don't know how good you have it," she muttered.

"Yeah, Kate, my parents are amazing compared to yours. At least your mom cares enough about you to call you up on her breaks to tell you she loves you. At least your dad values your opinion enough to let you choose where you want to go to school."

"Yeah, at least my stepdad hates me enough to knock me around once in a while when he gets drunk enough. Real perfect. At least your parents are providing you with the best education. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly Harvard-material, and your parents hate me for it.."

"God, don't bring the money thing into this. As if that's my fucking fault? As if it's my fault that my parents have issues with your whole money situation."

"At least my parents actually like you," she fired back. "At least they don't look like someone just shoved a rotten piece of meat under their nose every time they seem me. At least when you come over, my dad treats you with respect, and my mom is always polite. Your parents look at me like I'm dirt. Maybe you do too. Dating me because you feel sorry for me?"

"Kate–"

"I'm not good enough, am I? Not for your parents, not for you. We can't all be rich doctor's sons, Jack. We can't all have the best school supplies and the little polo jackets. Some people have to work for a living. Some people can't afford to go to a top-of-the-line college, so they have to accept what they can get."

"Oh, so now you're accusing me of not appreciating what I do have?"

"When was the last time you had to shop at the Salvation Army or Goodwill, because your mom barely makes enough to pay the bills with her eight dollar-an-hour job at the diner, and your dad is away in some foreign country on military business, and your stepdad doesn't do anything but sit on his lazy ass and get drunk? When was the last time you had to stand in line to get government welfare or food stamps just to eat, because all the grocery money had to go to the bills? Until high school, everything I owned belonged to someone else first. And I'm sick of it, Jack. I'm sick of getting everyone else's leftovers. I don't want your mother's goddamn engagement ring!" She screamed, pulling it off her finger and throwing it at him. He caught it, staring at it, bewildered.

"Kate, it's not–"

"Don't, just...just don't."

And just like that, she was gone.