A/N: This fic is for my wifey, Joy, and her obvious obsession for Jack and the piano. I think that's all the introduction it needs.
However, the piano piece that Jack is playing in the middle of the story (not the one at the beginning) was inspired by the piece, Chopin Nocturne No. 13 Op. 48 No. 1 in C minor. I put a link in my profile. Definitely take a listen during that part, or throughout the whole fic if you'd like. It's long, but gorgeous!
Disclaimer: Don't own Lost, but if I did, Jack would play piano more.
It was the wee hours of the morning, the night before they were putting you on a plane to Hawaii, and you found once again that sleep was hard to come by. The bed seemed too soft, the air pumping thought the vents too cold, and the room so empty. Although your feet were planted firmly in place, your thoughts were running around and around in a circle, leaving you exhausted, but unable to relax. Despite assurances that your legal issue was off the table at the moment, you couldn't back down from the terror that as soon as you stepped off that plane, they may rip Aaron from your arms and immediately place handcuffs over your wrists, dragging you to face something you had feared your entire life. To be trapped.
Aaron safe in Sun's care, you wandered down to the hotel lobby, looking for what, you weren't sure. But once you got there, you heard the soft tinkling of piano keys emanating from the cocktail bar down the hall, and you were instantly drawn to the intoxicating melody. The notes and phrases seemed to be like a river, washing over you, drawing it ever closer to its source. And when you reached it, you were left in awe at its beauty.
There sat Jack, head bent low over the keys, a glass of vodka sweating onto a napkin and resting on the piano top. The gentle lull created by his skilled fingertips halted all thoughts and left you with the sensation that you were flying. Your very soul seemed to sing along with the notes, following their dips and crescendos, soaring high above any care or worry, leaving you far more relaxed than you had ever been. His fingers quickly came to rest as you walked closer, and you weren't sure if he had just stopped because he sensed your presence or because the song was over. You decided on the latter, as he took a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.
You knew him well enough to know he was fighting back some emotion, so you stood still for a moment, just taking him in. You could tell he hadn't been sleeping; the bags under his eyes were apparent even from your distance, and every line and etch of his face seemed deepened, hardened to this new reality. You longed to smooth out the furrow in his brow with your fingertips, but instead, you gently placed yourself beside him on the bench.
"Hey." He greeted you softly, smiling lightly, and then rubbing his eyes.
"You look exhausted." You said, trying to catch his eye just so he could see how concerned you were.
"Just was thinking about tomorrow." He sighed, obviously making an effort to look alright for you benefit. You just knew him too well.
You reached for his neck, massaging some of the knots and lighting rubbing his tense shoulders. He let out a long breath, relaxing visibly under your fingertips, and you realized he was carrying the weight of the lie and the remorse of leaving everyone behind on his broad shoulders. It took you back to that time with the Others, and you wondered if he had been struggling with the same thing. As he sat heavy on that bench, you understood that maybe there was a part of him, even if he didn't understand it, that was trying to bury that guilt, as his fingers played out all of his trepidation and sorrow.
"Where's Aaron?" He finally asked after a long moment of silence.
"He's with Sun. I can stay as long as you want." You say, continuing to rub his back.
"Okay." He said, giving you a weary smile. He closed his eyes, and once again picked up his fingers, running them smoothly along the black and white keys. The pleasant sound seemed to fill every crevice in your body, and even though things were not the way either of you had pictured them to be, none of that really seemed to matter anymore, simply because you had each other.
A little over two years later, Jack stumbled in late from work, but you could hardly contain your excitement as you ran up to him and quickly covered his eyes.
"What are you doing?" He laughed, trying to pry your hands from his face.
"No, you can't look! I have a surprise." You giggled, walking him forward and towards the living room.
"Kate, I told you I didn't want anything…." He trailed off as soon as you uncovered his eyes. Before him stood a large grand piano, its black surface gleaming in the light, its keys begging to be touched.
"Happy Birthday Jack." You whispered.
He walked towards the piano, lightly fingering the keys, closing his eyes to the reverberating sound as he placed his foot on the pedal. It made the most beautiful sound you had ever heard, and you thought for a moment that perhaps this gift was a little selfish since you seemed to get so much more joy out of it then him. But then, he turned to you, his eyes shining just a bit with emotion, and when he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you softly on the lips, you knew he appreciated what you had done.
"Thank you Kate." He whispered into your ear, his breath tickling the back of your neck. Your soul seemed to sing to his touch, and you knew there was no other place you would ever want to be.
Two weeks later, you awoke to the sound of the piano. You hadn't planned on waiting up for Jack because he had had a late surgery that night and probably wouldn't have returned home until 3 or 4 in the morning. You looked to the clock on your bedside and saw it was only 1. Something had obviously gone wrong. Walking lightly down the stairs, you heard the soft strains of chords, its sadness seeming to permeate every fiber of your being. His grief seemed at once to be yours, and your heart stung with the pain as his fingers slide along the keys. You got within sight of the piano, and suddenly, the piece picked up. His hands pressed angrily against the keys, as the chords grew louder and louder, and you could almost hear him scream out in frustration as he pounded up and down the scale. The song swept along, drawing you in so much that you didn't even notice the tears on you face until you felt one drop off your chin and drip onto your hand.
You wiped your face quickly and walked up to him, standing hesitantly by the piano bench.
"What happened Jack?" You whispered, trying not to alarm him as he sat with his head bowed.
He lifted his head to meet your eyes, and you saw the weariness behind his brilliant hazel ones. "He didn't make it." He finally said, and you could see him face practically crumple with the pain. You moved to stand in front of him, resting your hips lightly against the keyboard, as he laid his head on your stomach. You brought your hands to his head, lightly running your fingers along his cropped cut. His soft breath against your bare flesh began to warm your center and your breathing picked up as he placed light kisses along your belly. You thought for an instant that maybe now wasn't the time, but it felt so right to be here now in this moment, sharing his pain, breathing, living it together. So you didn't fight it as he slid you gently along the keys and into his lap, creating a ripple of notes that matched the trembling of your core. He ran his hands gently up sides, pulling your shirt off with them, and continued his trail of kisses up between your breasts and along you neck. His hands danced along you spine like they did along the piano keys, and as your back arched, you pressed against them, sending a tremor of noise that rocked you to the very core. And that's when you knew that you had never been more at one with a person. Because his pain was your pain, and you wouldn't have it any other way.
And then he was gone. It was the end of the song. There was no repeat, no play button. And like a song stuck in your head, you always seemed to be reminded of Jack's absence. When he'd wake up early on Saturday mornings, Aaron would somehow always wander over to that piano and start banging and pounding on those keys until you could hardly stand it anymore. The clanging and the dissonance of the sound was like the din of a busy street; horns honking, cars whizzing by, the jarring noise of a jackhammer. And you were nothing but a small town girl coming home from the bars in the early morning. Hung over, frightened, and alone. Every pound of the keys caused your head to pound painfully in sync until you were nauseous from the ache.
Those keys didn't sing for you anymore.
It was then you'd go over and pick him up off the bench. He'd scream and fuss until you were able to get him absorbed enough in his cartoons. It was only a month before you sold the piano to some struggling musician and his band at half of its original price. You just couldn't bear to look at it anymore, and Jack was never going to come back to bring magic to those keys again.
Life was monotone.
And then he came back into your life. A flurry of horns and sirens, dizzying in their frankness, and you didn't know which way to turn in the fear that you would grow deaf from the noise. You shouted and screamed at him, telling him "Don't!", but the noise never really stopped. And that's when you knew it was time to go back.
It was on your fourth night back, the night after you had returned from the Hostiles, that you walked by his house. You hadn't meant to stop, but for a moment, you thought your ears may have been playing tricks on you.
Just when you thought you would never hear it again, you heard the music.
Peeking into his window, you saw Jack, fingers brushing against the keys, head bent in deep thought, and you saw a hint of what once was.
And as you slowly walked back to your home, with the soft wafting of notes trailing behind you, you were struck with an odd sense of hope, that maybe things would turn out alright even though all seemed lost.
Hope you enjoyed it! Please review :D