Jack wasn't a rehabilitation doctor. He had never studied under that area or had a close or even distant friend who had. He had seen Charlie with sweat present on his brow earlier the previous afternoon, but had thought nothing of the man's persperation. He had thought Charlie had been contributing to help out the camp in some way. He had figured that the young man had finally decided to go out with the fruit pickers who always complained about having to carry all the fruit without much help. About one second later after a man had come to him with a sprained ankle. Jack had forgotten about the young Brit and had gathered some bandages and painkillers.
"How did you sprain your ankle?" Jack asked the man, unwrapping the gauze bandages.
Jack and Kate had finished speaking about Kate moving into the caves when Jack grabbed his backpack. Jack threw the bag over his shoulder and scanned the beach for anyone needing his help before he left. He saw Claire sitting alone and decided to see if she was alright. Jack got his pack situated on his shoulders before striding across the beach towards her. He watched everyone else as he passed them. Suddenly, someone pushed past him in a hurried walk. Jack whipped around and saw the back of Charlie's black hoodie heading down the path to the caves. Jack paused before walking up to Claire. She was settling underneath two blue Oceanic Airlines blankets. She looked up in shock as Jack crouched down in front of her. She smiled at the doctor.
"How'd you manage to get two blankets? Last I checked, each person got one. Except Sawyer, who got twenty-five." Jack questioned with a smile.
Claire looked down, saying, "Oh, the first night we were here, Charlie gave me his."
Jack nodded, squinting into the signal fire. "How's the baby?" he asked. "Has it been moving?"
"Yeah, he's been keeping me up with all his kicking." Claire chuckled.
"Good," Jack stated, rising to his feet. "I'll be at the caves if you need anything."
"Alright," Claire nodded with a wave.
Jack was nearly halfway to the caves when he heard the screaming. He froze in his tracks, looking around the jungle in the dim, afternoon light. He suddenly recognised the screams and slowly tip-toed towards them. He was careful of stepping on any branches or dead leaves. He managed to step on a few, making loud snaps. The yells did not subside, though. This shocked and surprised Jack. He was probably more scared than anything. He heard the yells getting louder and grew more shaky with each step. He saw a clearing up ahead and figured the screams were coming from there. He walked up behind a tree and peered into the dark clearing. He saw a young man in a black hoody on his hands and knees, puking his guts out. Jack winced about to head up to him. But Charlie began screaming again. Jack sighed.
"OH MY GOD!!!! BLOODY HELL!!!!!!!!" Charlie screamed, falling onto his back. "WHY THE HELL DOES THIS HURT SO MUCH?!?!?"
Jack snuck back to the trail. He knew why Charlie was sweating so bad, now. Jack hadn't helped Charlie because he didn't want to embarrass Charlie. Jack hadn't known Charlie long, but he knew enough about the Brit to know he hated being the one who needed everyone's help. Charlie had hated how Sayid and Jack, even Sawyer, bested him phisically. Jack strode down the path, listening as Charlie's cries grew softer and softer. Jack hoped no one walked in on Charlie's pain. Jack himself knew what it was like to be kicked while he was down.
Jack wasn't a rehabilitation doctor. He had never studied under that area or had a close or even distant friend who had. Jack had seen Charlie screaming in the clearing and now knew the cause of it.
Charlie was struggling with drug withdrawel.