Author's Note: This story was indirectly inspired by The Starhorse's TF fic "On Being Reduced To Instinct", which is a very good fic and you should read it. This fic takes place immediately following the events of the season 2 episode "The Hunting Party".
--
In times to come, Jack would look back and realize that nothing good could have come out of a day that began with Charlie waving his arms dramatically and declaring, "Ta-da!"
"OK..." Jack hesitated, then gave up. "What is it?"
"No idea," Charlie replied brightly. "Still, it's cool though, innit?"
Hurley, standing on Jack's other side, appeared a bit more nervous than Charlie. "We found it this morning." He gestured vaguely forward. "Kinda figured you'd wanna see it."
Jack took another step into the grassy clearing. Along the far edge, nestled up against the encircling jungle, a canopy of camouflage-patterned mesh was haphazardly propped up by several long metal poles, one of which was listing at a sharp inward angle. Beneath the questionable protection of the canopy was a bank of machinery. From where he stood, Jack could see what looked like the back of an archaic computer monitor, with thick cables running down into the apparatus beneath it. The metal might once have been gleaming white, but was now stained and discolored by rust and dirt.
Prominently displayed on the front panel, with a long streak of rust bisecting it straight down the center, was the all-too-familiar Dharma logo.
Jack gave a heavy exhalation. "Great," he said, deadpan. He began to walk towards the machinery with a slow and cautious pace, as if it might suddenly spring up and bite him. He spotted a previously-unseen figure crouched down behind the console, who stood up at his approach.
Locke gave an offhand wave. "Afternoon, Jack," he greeted through a mouthful of fruit.
"Afternoon, John," Jack replied, his voice neutral.
Locke gestured with one hand at the bank of equipment. "Doesn't seem to be in working order." He swallowed, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. With his other hand, he held up a faded blue backpack that looked as if it had been savaged by wild animals, then run over by a garbage truck for good measure. "These packs are empty, too. Nothing left but this." Setting the pack down, he picked up a Dharma-logo spiral notebook. Its pages were brown and rippled as if it had been lying in dirty water for a long time. He tossed it to Jack, who snatched it out of the air.
Jack riffled through the notebook before handing it off to Hurley. "So. More Dharma equipment, huh?" Jack turned to face Locke, and his smile became slightly brittle. "Keeping more discoveries to yourself, John?" he asked, a bit more nastily than he needed to.
"No," Locke retorted, a bit more defensively than he needed to. "You're here, aren't you?" Then he looked past Jack at a sound of approaching voices, accompanied by heavy footsteps crunching through the jungle.
Jack turned to look over his shoulder as an irate-looking Sawyer came storming into view, followed by an even more irate-looking Jin.
Jin was talking loudly and gesturing expansively with both hands. Sawyer gave him a sidewise glare, and as if he'd been repeating himself for some time now, growled out, "Listen, Kato, I don't know what the hell you think you're playin' at, but..." He stopped in his tracks and blinked at the sight of the Dharma equipment. "What the hell's that?"
Jack sighed. Obviously it was going to be one of those days.
--
Meanwhile, Charlie and Hurley had mutually concluded that there was nothing to be gained by getting involved in any argument that involved Sawyer. Therefore, they left Jack to sort things out and headed over to the Dharma station. Ducking under the sagging canopy, Charlie began a close inspection of the equipment. The computer monitor was coated with grime and dirt, as was the battered keyboard beneath it. Nearly every square inch of this side of the equipment was festooned with dials, knobs, switches, and colored indicator lights, all of which were dull and dark. There were labels in various places, but except for a few stranded letters, the writing had all faded or been washed away.
As his friend continued his examination, Hurley pried open the notebook and peered at one of the warped, brown-edged pages. "Hey, there's a drawing of a polar bear in here." He squinted at the page heading. "Ursus maritimus," he read aloud.
"Maritime," Charlie observed, selecting a random dial and spinning it back and forth. "That means having to do with the ocean."
Hurley gave him a look. "I know what it means."
The dial fell off in Charlie's hand. He looked at it for a moment, then surreptitiously stuck it back into place. "What else does it say?"
"Kinda hard to read...it's all smeared up. Something about ecosystems, DNA, stuff like that." Peeling apart another warped and rippled page, he read, "Canis lupus."
"Lupus?" Charlie looked skeptical. "Isn't that a disease?"
"What would they be working on a disease for?"
"What would they be working on anything for?" Charlie retorted. Idly, he flipped several random switches up and down. "Anything else?"
"Dunno, I can't read it." He gave a disappointed frown. "The writing's all washed out. And the rest of the pages are stuck together." He held the book out by the edge of the cover and shook it to indicate this.
Charlie shrugged. "Ah well. Nothing around here ever gets to be that easy, right?" He turned a few more dials, then flipped a large and important-looking switch.
With a loud hum, all the indicator lights lit up at once, red and yellow and green. Charlie and Hurley jerked back as if the thing had shocked them. A series of angular green zeros flared into life on the monitor screen. "Whoa!" Hurley observed, impressed. "You fixed it!"
"I didn't fix anything, it just..." Charlie trailed off as the final zero flipped into a one. Then, after briefly flickering back into a zero, it decided to become a four.
"Four what?" asked Hurley. The console beeped once. Then bright green letters scrolled into existence beneath the numbers:
PARAMETERS SET
COUNTDOWN COMMENCING
A new number appeared on bottom of the screen: a five. Hurley looked dubious. "Um. Is it supposed to be doing that?" With another tinny beep, the green five changed to a four.
"How would I kn--?" Charlie cut himself off as he noticed a line of text printed along the bottom of the monitor screen, obscured by a smear of dirt. With a deep sense of foreboding, he ran his finger along it, wiping it clean.
It read, in black bold letters, GENETIC ALTERATION.
Charlie's throat suddenly went very, very dry. He and Hurley looked at each other.
The four beeped into a three.
They looked up. They realized simultaneously that the clearing in front of the station, which had seemed to be nearly circular, was in fact perfectly circular. Locke was crouched down towards the edge of the circle, peeling away a strip of turf with a puzzled frown. The improbably-still-arguing Jin and Sawyer were nearly in the center. And Jack was standing off to one side of them, looking as if he was one second away from flinging up his hands and storming off.
The three became a two.
"Hey!" Charlie called urgently, rising to his feet, but his voice went unheard as Locke called out at the same time, "Jack!"
Jack looked over. Locke called out, "There's metal under here! We're standing on...!"
The two became a one.
"HEY!" Charlie shouted at the top of his lungs, as Hurley started to jump up and down and frantically wave his arms. Everyone looked at him. "Get out of there!" Charlie yelled. "Get out--!"
The one became a zero.
A blast of blinding white light exploded from beneath the clearing with a deafening bass THRUMM that shook the earth, knocking Charlie and Hurley off their feet. Blinking dumbly, they coughed and rubbed their faces as a barrage of dirt and burned grass showered down on them.
The last vibrations of the sound died away, replaced by a gentle hissing noise. Hurley doubled over in a violent coughing fit as Charlie waved his hand in front of his face, trying to clear the air. Stunned and shaking, he clambered to his feet. "Jack!" he called, coughing into his fist. "John! Anyb--!"
He cut himself off and stared in open-mouthed shock. "What?" Hurley called, hauling himself upright. "What? Are they OK? What happ--"
Just like Charlie had, Hurley froze in mid-word and stood staring in silent horror. The metal platform was now fully revealed, covered only with the remnants of dirt and dead grass that showered back down from the air. And on its surface, four figures lay unmoving.
Charlie looked at Hurley.
Hurley looked at Charlie.
And Hurley said, "Oooohhh...shit."
--
Jack's eyes snapped open.
He was lying on his back, staring straight up at the afternoon sky, and he squinted against its brilliance. The air was filled with a pungent stink of burned vegetation, so strong it seemed to coat the inside of his nostrils. Tiny random motes swirled lazily through his field of vision. At first, he thought there was something wrong with his eyes, then realized he was seeing blades of grass drifting through the air, gradually settling back to earth. A shred of white cloth, looking like the same material as his shirt, floated gently down towards him and landed on his nose. Jack sneezed, sending it flying skyward again.
What happened? he thought sluggishly. He remembered Charlie yelling, and then...what? He recalled a blinding white light obliterating his vision, and a sound from beneath the ground, so loud and deep it seemed to vibrate his bones to powder. And after that had been the sensation that every cell in his body had turned inside-out all at once.
He'd prefer to never experience that again.
Jack yawned widely and stretched, squeezing his eyes shut as he rolled over, flopping down on his left side. Mentally, he took inventory of himself. There was no pain, and nothing seemed to be injured. In fact, he felt unusually strong and energized, better than he'd felt in weeks. But in some indefinable way, he also felt...wrong. He wondered if he'd concussed himself when he fell; that would explain why trying to think felt like wading through waist-deep tar. He felt warm, too, much more than he had been earlier, as if his entire body was soaking up the sun's heat. How long was I out? he wondered. Why's it so hard to think straight?
Jack felt his brow crease in worry as he realized something else. I can't move my hands. His eyes were still shut, and he tried to flex his fingers or make a fist, but felt nothing happening. However, before he could open his eyes to look...
"YrrrreeeeRRRRllp?!"
A bizarre noise, half growl and half yelp, came from behind him. Jack snorted and opened his eyes, rolling over onto his other side. His mouth dropped open in shock.
Right next to him, a large, shaggy wolf was struggling to its feet, kicking itself free of what seemed to be an entangling mesh of shredded blue fabric. The creature stood unsteadily on all fours, legs splayed out as his paws slipped on the slick metal surface. Jack's color vision didn't seem to be working all that well, but he got the impression that the wolf's fur was shades of gold; darker golden-brown along his back and thick neck ruff, shading to pale gold on his legs and belly. As the creature looked back at himself, he gave another loud yelp and started to whip frantically back and forth as if trying to catch his own tail.
And all the while, Jack heard Sawyer's voice--not coming in through his ears, but seeming to be broadcast directly into his skull. What the hell? the voice demanded. What the hell? What the HELL?!
Jack felt a shudder run through him, and swallowed hard. That's impossible...that can't possibly be... He tried to ask aloud, "Sawyer?" But only a formless sound came from his own throat.
The gold-furred wolf spun around and stared at him with frantic blue eyes. Then he gave a sharp whine as his ears flattened back against his skull. Jack? Sawyer's voice came again. Hell, Doc, is that YOU?
Jack tried to clamber to his feet. His legs tangled in something, and he struggled to get free of it. What happened to y--? he tried to ask. But he cut himself off as he realized there were two more wolves just beyond Sawyer.
One was a slender, elegant creature with a glossy coat and upright, sharply pointed ears. He had a striking coat pattern of jet-black markings against a gold so pale it was almost white. The black fur ran along his back, tail, and neck, and he had black markings along the sides of his face and the top of his head. He blinked his dark, almond-shaped eyes and stared all around him. Then he raised a forepaw to rub frantically at the side of his narrow muzzle, sharp white fangs bared in an expression of outrage mingled with fear.
And furthest away on Jack's right was a fourth wolf, a stocky creature with gray and white fur, rounded ears, and a wide muzzle. The faint line of a scar was visible through the fur beneath his right eye. The gray shook himself from head to tail-tip, then stared back along the length of his body with pale blue eyes. He raised and lowered one hind leg, then the other, with a thoughtful, preoccupied expression.
Jack's heart pounded in his chest. Sawyer, Jin, Locke, he thought. They're all--but--why didn't it happen to m--
He never finished the thought, as he realized a dark muzzle was intruding itself into the center of his field of vision.
Jack stopped breathing, and felt his bones turn to solid ice inside him. Slowly, trying to pretend he didn't already know what he'd see, he looked down.
He was standing on all fours on a flat metal surface. There was a mass of ripped fabric surrounding him; all that was left of his clothing. And where his hands should have been, he saw a pair of wide, black-furred paws supporting his weight.
Slowly, he lifted a paw. He looked at it for a moment, set it back down again, and let out a slow, deep breath.
Oh, he thought.
--
Underneath the canopy, Hurley stared straight ahead without blinking, rocking back and forth and hugging his arms across his chest. "Oh God." He swallowed hard, looking as if he was about to be sick. "Oh God. Oh God."
"Will you shut up?!" Charlie's voice was tight and high-pitched as he ran his hands through his hair, mussing it up even more than usual.
"Oh God," Hurley went on heedlessly. He watched in wide-eyed horror as the largest wolf, a long-legged animal with a jet-black pelt, shook himself all over and turned penetrating hazel-green eyes towards him. "Oh God that's Jack and he's looking at me oh God he's looking right at me!!"
"Calm down. Just...calm down." Charlie's own panicky tone didn't do much to help matters, however. "We'll just flip the switch back and it'll fix this, right?"
Hurley continued to stare at the wolves as if hypnotized. "Right...sure...OK..."
"Right. Here we go." Charlie looked down at the console, mentally refused to acknowledge that the monitor had gone dark and was emitting a thin streamer of smoke, and flipped the switch back.
It went click.
"Er..." Charlie's heartbeat spiked into double-time. He flipped the switch up and down, then again, more urgently each time. Click, click, click, click.
"Dude..." Hurley's voice went very quiet.
"I know, I know!" There was a faint spitz noise from deep inside the machinery, and the nostril-stinging smell grew stronger. Frantically, Charlie reached down and jiggled a likely-looking panel free from its moorings. He was rewarded with a faceful of acrid smoke and several flying sparks.
Coughing and hacking, Charlie waved his hands to dispel the smoke. "Oh, bollocks," he muttered. "Um...all right...nothing to worry about, all we need to do is...is..."
"Ummm..." Hurley's single syllable managed to embody a world of foreboding. "I think we've...like...got a real problem here."
Charlie could have shot back with any number of sarcastic and witty rejoinders. But at this point, all he could do was nod, swallow, and say, "Yeah."
--
As yet oblivious to the situation under the canopy, Jack and Sawyer faced each other, ears forward and heads down. The gold-furred wolf shuddered all over as if trying to throw something off something clinging, then squeezed his eyes shut and growled. This is crazy, Sawyer said, with an undertone of terror. This is so damn--Don't panic,
Jack urged. Although the way his own legs were shaking, he felt like he was in no position to be offering advice. He looked around at the other wolves, who were moving closer towards them. Just...don't anyone panic, OK? We'll get through this.Sawyer took a shuddering breath, then let it out with a grumble. Yeah, he said, seeming to regain some of his composure. He opened his eyes again, his jaw set in a grim line. Yeah. All right. He stared at Jack, then narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to one side. So how is it I'm hearin' you? he demanded, with a trace of nervousness. You in my head now, Doc?
I don't... Jack thought for a moment, stepping back a pace as he vigorously shook his head, ears flopping against his skull. I don't think so. I just sort of...understand what you're saying. That didn't sound like a good explanation even to himself. But figuring out the details of their communication was fairly low on Jack's current list of priorities, all things considered.
Huh. So can I think anything without you knowin' it? Sawyer stepped back, blue eyes slitted in suspicion. What am I thinkin' now? He paused, and Jack "heard" nothing.
Jack shook his head. I don't know.Sawyer smirked. Good. Then he turned his gaze towards the other two wolves, the fur bristling along his back and neck. I tell you one thing, he went on to say, as he dipped his head and bared his teeth. None of you sons-of-bitches better even THINK about sniffing my ass.Jack gave a snort of mingled laughter and disgust. But he sensed that underneath Sawyer's bravado, he was still afraid, almost terrified. Jack couldn't blame him; he felt like he was teetering on the brink of hysteria himself. But he only retorted, I don't think that'll be a problem, Sawyer.
Indeed. The voice was Locke's. Jack turned to face him; the gray-and-white wolf was sitting back on his haunches with a detached, vaguely amused expression that was pure Locke.
You all right? Jack demanded, annoyed by the other's nonchalance.
Locke nodded coolly. Sawyer snorted and looked the gray wolf up and down. So how come you got fur like the rest of us? he demanded. Shouldn't you be bald?
There was a chortling noise from Jin as Locke looked miffed, pinning back his ears and narrowing his eyes.
Jack blinked, tilting his head quizzically as he turned towards Jin. Wait. You understood that? You know what we're saying?
The dark-eyed wolf sat down, and stared intently at him for a moment. Then, slowly, he nodded. I...understand you. Yes.
Sawyer made a hmmph noise, padding around the perimeter of the group. Well, I'll be damned. He curled his lip, showing sharp white fangs. This's what it takes to get you to learn the language, huh?
Jack sat back on his haunches, still looking at Jin. Makes sense, in a way. He felt an itch behind his right ear, and experienced a moment's mental paralysis as he worked out how to scratch it. If we're speaking...wolfish, or whatever. Ah, hell... He gave up on his dignity, and lifted a hindleg to scratch at the ear for all he was worth, ignoring Sawyer's lupine smirk.
Jin looked around at them all, then cautiously asked, How did this happen?
Locke nodded towards the Dharma station. I think your answer's over there, Jin. The others turned, and saw Charlie and Hurley frantically fiddling with the smoke-spewing equipment, without producing any obvious results. Doesn't look good, does it, Locke observed quietly, almost to himself.
Sawyer growled. Well, it better start lookin' good pretty damn soon, that's all I can say. He glared at the two humans, who were conversing in frantic whispers, and seemed to be trying very hard not to look at them. What, did they break the goddamn thing? He snorted. Figures.
Although Jack knew he should be more worried about the situation under the canopy, he found it hard to drag his attention away from the other wolves. He was beginning to feel a strange, increasing tension in the group, and in himself. They all appeared to be avoiding looking directly at one another. If any of them happened to make eye contact, they quickly looked away as if they'd committed some faux pas. Jack had a strong feeling that something important needed to be done, but didn't understand exactly what.
Wondering what would happen, he glanced over at Jin, who looked back at him with nothing more than curiosity. However, this time, Jack didn't look away. Jin seemed to grow uncomfortable under the direct stare, and he shifted position uneasily before looking away, lowering his head and ears.
Not fully understanding why he felt compelled to do so, Jack turned his gaze towards Locke. Again he felt the tension building as the other wolf stared back with pale, impassive eyes. Jack rose to all fours, feeling his back stiffen and his tail--he winced inwardly at the concept of "his tail"--rising high above his back. The gray wolf looked him up and down, and flickered an ear in seeming amusement. Slowly and deliberately, Locke averted his gaze, as if implying that he could do otherwise but chose to go along with things...for now.
That left Sawyer. Jack turned to face him, and their gazes locked. Sawyer stared back without blinking, blue eyes narrowing as his lips pulled back from his teeth. What're you starin' at? he demanded with a low, deep growl.
Jack heard a rippling snarl coming from his own throat, and felt the fur along his neck standing on end. He felt a mingled bewilderment at his own reaction and a growing fury at the instinctively perceived defiance. Finally, with a deep horror, he understood what was happening.
Sawyer! he pleaded, as another, louder snarl guttered its way out of him. Back down!
They were circling each other now, black and gold manes bristling, muzzles wrinkled and lips peeled back from dagger-like fangs. YOU back down! Sawyer snarled in reply.
Jack's rage began to overtake his reason. Sawyer, back down, or I swear to you I'll...
And then, without warning, reason deserted him entirely.
--
"Oh God!" Hurley clapped both hands over his mouth, his eyes round as saucers. "Oh God they're fighting!!"
"Oh no..." Charlie breathed in disbelief as the snapping, snarling ball of fur thrashed its way across the grass-strewn platform. "Hey!" he called, to no avail. He waved his arms desperately. "Stop it! Stop fighting, you bloody lunatics!"
"You gotta do something, man!" Hurley shouted, grabbing Charlie by the shoulders and shaking him until his eyeballs rattled. "They'll kill each other!"
"All right, all right! Er..." He looked around frantically, and spotted a nearby rock about the size of an egg. In desperation, he snatched it, drew his arm back, and threw...
--
The rock thunked into the golden wolf's ribcage with what seemed an unfair accuracy. With an outraged yelp, he was knocked off balance and started to fall sideways. The black wolf took instant advantage, rising up and tackling his opponent broadside. Sawyer toppled over and landed heavily on his side, knocking the air out of him. Jack pinned him, planting his forepaws on Sawyer's side and glaring down. Dammit, Sawyer, he thought with mingled pleading and exasperation, sides heaving as he panted for breath. Just...give it...up!
With one last stubborn growl, Sawyer gave in. He averted his gaze and tucked his tail between his legs, slowly raising his head to expose his throat. Jack fought down a repellent urge to bite, and, swishing his tail once, stepped back and away. Apparently the wolf's instincts were satisfied, as he felt himself start to relax.
Asshole, Sawyer said. Jack heard a low chuckling from Jin, who'd prudently stayed out of the fight and sat watching them from the edge of the clearing. Sawyer rose and shook himself off, very deliberately acting as if nothing at all had happened. Then he glared at Jin. What, you think somethin's funny?
Sawyer lowered his muzzle and sniffed at the rock that had struck him. Then he shot a glare towards the two humans crouched behind the console, who looked as if they were a fraction of a second away from sprinting for their lives. You little Limey bastard! Sawyer growled, sounding enraged and incredulous at the same time. You hit me with a goddamn ROCK!
Jack gave a grumbling sigh, wiping the side of his muzzle with a foreleg. Give it a rest, Sawyer.
Yeah, well, the other retorted. I woulda kicked your ass otherwise, you know that...
In a swift motion, Jin rose to all fours with a grunt of surprise. What? Jack asked.
The bicolored wolf pointed his muzzle towards the tree line. Locke is gone.
Jack turned. Sniffing the air only confirmed what his eyes told him; the fourth member of their impromptu pack had apparently left some time ago.
Dammit! Jack fumed. He barely registered Charlie and Hurley's shouts of "stay here" and "we'll be right back". As the two humans ran off, he glanced back at the other wolves. We've gotta go after him.
Whattaya mean, "we"? Sawyer glowered at him, then jerked his head sharply towards the Dharma station. You think I'm gonna find myself elsewhere if that thing decides to undo our little career change, here?
Jin looked uncertainly from Jack to the equipment as if torn with indecision. I will go with you, he finally offered.
Jack exhaled heavily. No, he decided. You both stay here, just in case. I'll find him.
Sawyer padded to the edge of the clearing, where the grass still grew undamaged around the perimeter of the metal platform. He flopped down heavily in the shade of the nearest tree and curled his lip in a sneer. Yessir, mister pack leader, sir.
Jack ignored him, and looked towards Jin. I'll be back.
Jin nodded, and watched him lope off into the jungle. Then he looked over at Sawyer, who had stretched out full-length and closed his eyes as if to sleep, or else simply to ignore the world for a while. Jin turned his head towards the trees, back in the direction from which they'd first come. For a moment, he hesitated. Then he rose to all fours, and unnoticed by Sawyer, silently padded away.
--
The black wolf turned his head this way and that as he trotted through the jungle, looking, listening, smelling. Jack pushed his way beneath the branches of a car-sized bush with wide, serrated leaves. For a moment, he sat down to rest, panting in the oppressive heat. It was a warm day even by island standards, and having acquired a thick coat of black fur wasn't helping matters.
Locke! he tried calling out loud, and was rewarded only with a weird sort of bark-yelp. Flattening his ears in annoyance, he tried thinking it instead: John! Where are you?
There was no answer, but he hadn't really expected one. This is insane, he told himself, a low rumble sounding in his throat. This whole thing is completely...
Jack cut himself off, forcing the thoughts aside. He knew deep down that if he let himself think too long and hard about what had happened to him, he would go out of his mind. The only way he could deal with the situation was by concentrating on the present moment, and the immediate problem. Which, at the moment, happened to be Locke.
Jack stepped out of the shade into the blazing sunlight, and cast his gaze around the surrounding jungle. His new senses were strange, and a bit unsettling. Colors were grayed-out and largely indistinguishable, except for a few particularly vivid flowers here and there. But the sounds were incredible, and the smells...the smells almost overwhelmed his mind. The thick, leafy smells of vegetation mingled and overlapped with the aromas of fruits and flowers and wood. Some smells were fresh and bright, others dark and musky, and some had a faint, dark reek of decay and death.
And besides the scents and sounds of the jungle itself were those of the creatures that lived and moved within it: birds and reptiles, frogs and insects, things he couldn't even identify. The island seethed with multitudes of life; and every creature, no matter how miniscule, had its own sound and scent and purpose.
Despite himself, Jack was intrigued. Obviously the wolf's mind placed a much higher priority on smell than on sight. He could probably navigate through the jungle with his eyes closed, now. Whereas he could hardly keep from walking around in circles when he'd been human...
Again, Jack stopped himself, shaking his head violently as if trying to throw off an annoying insect. He couldn't start thinking of his humanity in the past tense. And he tried to clamp down on treacherous feelings of satisfaction; a deep, intuitive sense that what he was now was exactly what he was supposed to be. It's just some weird reaction to the...to what happened, he told himself firmly. It has to be.
He forced himself to focus on his surroundings, ears moving to and fro as he listened for any clues to Locke's whereabouts. He could hear the wind moving in the branches high above, birds chirping and whistling their constant songs, tree frogs droning away to each other. And beyond that, not far away, was the sound of moving water: a stream.
Realizing he was very thirsty, Jack started in that direction. From what his nose could tell him, Locke was heading that way too. Jack could catch the scent here and there as he walked; the other was probably trying to hide his trail, but couldn't disguise it completely.
In short order, he came to the stream. It was shallow and fast-moving, rushing and gurgling its way over tumbled clutches of round stones. Momentarily forgetting everything but his thirst, he trotted into the shallows and lowered his head to drink. Then he yelped in surprise and jumped back with a splash. A dark, menacing shape had loomed up at him from under the water.
Pausing to think, he shook his head and silently called himself an idiot. Preparing himself this time, he leaned back over the stream. He regarded his reflection dispassionately. He saw a thick ruff of velvety black fur, a straight, solid muzzle, upright pointed ears. And intense, piercing lupine eyes, hazel around the pupils, shading to dark green around the edges.
Jack saw nothing in those eyes that he recognized as himself.
He swallowed. Right, he thought. Squeezing his eyes shut against the sight, Jack bent down and lowered his muzzle, greedily lapping up the fresh, cool water. Then he happened to wonder, How exactly am I doing this? And of course, as soon as he thought about it, he sputtered and nearly choked, the water spilling out from his jaws and dripping down his chin.
He jerked his head up at the sound of a dry chuckle. Happened to me, too, said Locke's voice. The trick is not to think about it. Jack whirled around and saw Locke sunning himself atop a large boulder beside the stream, forelegs crossed before him in a nonchalant pose.
Jack growled and stiffened at the sight; something about being looked down on from above was intolerable. With an attitude of utter coolness, Locke jumped down from the boulder, landing lightly and shaking himself off. The gray wolf then sat down and deliberately lifted his head, showing the white fur along his throat in a placating gesture. Jack felt himself relax, but was vaguely unsettled that once again he'd reacted in a way he couldn't control, due to a situation he didn't really understand.
Sorry, Locke offered. I should've remembered; high-ranking wolves don't like being looked down on by a...subordinate. Jaws open in a canine grin, he stood up and trotted over towards Jack. Fascinating creatures, wolves. I don't suppose you've read a lot about them?
Jack looked him up and down with a snort of annoyance. Don't you think you're taking this a little too well?
The gray wolf cocked his head to one side. How so? he replied, sounding faintly amused. There are worse fates. We aren't actually suffering here, are we?
That's not the point! Jack snapped--literally snapped, jaws shutting on air. Besides, what did you think you were doing, running off like that?
Locke shrugged. What would be the point of staying?
Jack stared at him as if he'd taken leave of his senses. So we can get put back to normal, John!
With a snorted chuckle, Locke shook his head. 'Normal.' Now I'd say that's a pretty loaded term. Besides... The gray wolf paused, and his pale eyes bored into Jack's. ...what makes you think that's what I want?
Jack felt his jaw drop open. I don't believe this, he fumed, shutting his mouth. You actually want to stay this way?
Might not be a question of what anyone wants. Locke glanced away, then looked back at him. Do you really think they'll get that equipment running again? It looked pretty hopeless to me.
He rose to all fours, and began to pace a slow circle around Jack. And even if they do, he went on relentlessly, what are the odds of putting us back the way we were? They start fooling around with that thing, anything at all could happen. He stopped, face-to-face with Jack. Better to leave well enough alone.
Jack stared at him for a moment, then shivered and shut his eyes. Don't say that. I can't... He looked back at him, ears sagging back against his skull, eyes growing desperate. ...we can't just stay like this.
Locke shrugged again. You'll get used to it.
NO! The violence of Jack's reaction surprised even himself. He advanced on Locke, fangs bared in a snarl. We're going back. You and me. Now.
No. Locke faced him down, the fur along his neck ruffled, his blue eyes unblinking as they locked stares. You can beat me up if it makes you happy, Jack. But you can't make decisions for me. He took a step closer, until their muzzles were inches apart. So you either drag me back fighting every inch of the way...or you let me go.
For a moment, it almost seemed that they would fight. But finally, Jack gave a heavy, frustrated sigh, lowered his head, and stepped aside. You're making a mistake, John.
Locke nodded, once. Maybe. But it's my mistake to make.
As the other wolf padded past him, heading for the stream, Jack called out, What about pushing the button? Locke stopped, but didn't turn to face him. What about saving the world?
Locke glanced back over his shoulder with a trace of his old smirk, and his tail swished once. Maybe it's someone else's turn to save the world for a while. Besides, he added as he turned away, you can't tell me that deep down, you're not enjoying this.
The gray splashed his way across the stream, and trotted between the dark, twisted trees on the other bank, disappearing from sight. The black wolf sat down, lowered his ears, and stared down at the rushing waters for a long time.
That's not true, he said, finally. But he didn't know to whom he said it.