HI guys, long time no update. I know, shoot me. I've been working on this freaking story for almost two weeks now. It was supposed to be done before school started but that idea went down the toilet faster then an unwanted teen pregnancy on prom night (Thank you Venture Brothers).
Anyways to shorten my excuse list because you really don't want to hear it and I really don't wanna go into detail...school, work, sleep. So sorrys for all! Wheeeee
And an actual Author's note. This story is writing in the perspectives of Jack and Kate only, dealing with the same situations, but it's really weird because you get insight to what both were thinking during the same situations and things the other might have missed. So I hope it's not too confusing (Whenever there's a split in the story (the line) the POV changed)

 Disclaimer: Don't own it. And if I did there would be no need for me to work, because then I could be happy. And not work, for working equals the sadness.

The Locke Problem

Chapter 1

Superficial Injuries

It was dark. Miles above, the faint, misty light of burning torches flickered weakly. Only strong enough to illuminate the first few feet of the hatch. The light gave up before the battered stainless-steel steps did.

The bottom of the hatch was rather capacious, the exact opposite from the stuffy, narrow area rising quite a way above the hatch that was necessary to descend upon in order to reach where she lie now.

Her back lay flat and unmoving against the cold feel of the concrete. Her arms lay sprawled out beside her as her legs were almost crumpled underneath her. The breaths her lungs inhaled were shallow and quick, her chest rising rapidly as her body ached with pain.

In the darkness, the almost noiseless, spiraling of the rope moved through her mind like the repetitive motion of a hypnotist swinging his pocket watch. It had long since stopped; almost thirty minutes ago it had stopped by her thoughts. But still her brain ran through it falling down upon her, down from the faint light of the fake heavens like a dark, twisted sign of death.

She didn't know the extent of her injuries, but she was sure one, if not both, her legs were broken. Fractured badly upon impact, the way she collapsed immediately upon hitting the dull, gray concrete and the unimaginable pain coursing through her legs now told her that.

The hatch was so dim she wouldn't be able to see her hand directly in front of her face, even if she had the strength to move either of her arms. She was oblivious to the amount of blood she'd lost; so much that it had created a pool of dark crimson around her body, permeating her clothes, permanently staining her blue jeans a morbid mahogany and she hadn't even noticed.

Though her breaths were diminutive, her heart was racing. She could feel her veins and arteries trembling at different points of her body, struggling to keep together as blood ripped through them towards the open orifices gouged in her legs and abdomen by the fall.

The makeshift rope was still tied securely at her thighs, wound tightly around them like the perfect bow on a birthday present. The other endless amount of the cord had fallen down from above like a gentle snowfall on a calm, silent winter night. Landing softly on top of her chest, almost wrapping around her like an inanimate python.

The pain was excruciating. Moving or not, it was still omnipresent, never ceasing to splinter her body, like a thousand jagged pieces of glass. Her eyes were blinking at an exceeded rate, even though with her eyes closed she saw the same eternal darkness, it was something to keep her brain away from the pain.

Her ears throbbed as her body began to quake, the dark, dank ambiance of the hatch starting to send shivers up her spine. The strange, unknown voices whispering around her didn't offer any solace.

They were watching her, the others, she knew it. Whispering, gossiping, wagering what would happen as her shattered body slipped away piece by piece. She knew they wouldn't help, why should they? Locke had broken into their secret society, sullying their privacy, and she had foolishly agreed to be the guinea pig.

The whispers continued, always below the level of complete comprehension, but always loud enough so she knew they were there. Taunting her for her asinine choice that would most likely lead to the end of her life.

Suddenly, in a deafening boom that immediately quieted the constant chatting, slicing through the darkness came a voice. At first it sounded more like the low drone of the thunder, than an understandable or even familiar cadence.

Closing her eyes momentarily, she allowed herself a mere moment to think. To gather her feelings, her pain, and to collect her thoughts, blocking them out, caging them even, so she could focus all the energy she could muster to comprehend the voice from above.

Upon opening her eyes, once again no alteration in what she viewed, the voice became clear, as if filtered by some divine intervention. Someone was calling her name, in an obviously concerned and panic stricken tone.

Her tongue was dry in her mouth, her lips chapped and cracked from the air she was forced to suck through her mouth in gasps, her throat burned from where the cool inhalations had scratched the soft tissue's surface, but never the less, she tried to speak.

Her first attempt was an utter failure, only a squeak like the unoiled wheel of an old cart exited her mouth. An exhausted breath escaped her lips as she winced and swallowed, her rough throat aching.

Her second attempt was much more successful. The strained voice traveling from above the hatch began to become frantic, belting out orders to other people in an incensed manner. She recognized the voice in its state and realized that Jack was the one yelling down to her.

"Ja…ack," she called as loudly as she could, which unfortunately wasn't loud enough. Everything seemed to fall into silence, since Jack had called down, the other's had either disappeared or gone mute. The group above had also remained noiseless, and unexpectedly the only sound for the next few seconds was the casual noises of the night animals and a low repetitive drip of a pipe.

Realization hit, and she called out his name once again, her voice a little grainier then before, but the loudest she could call. Instantaneously there was a shuffle of feet above the ground, she could tell from the pestering little pebbles that fell downward, bouncing off her head and chest, leaving little knicks here and there.

"Kate?" his voice cracked. His breathing was harsh and rapid, the volume of his pants increased with the long, narrow, empty shaft of the hatch, "Can you hear me?"

"Yeah," her voice was quiet, almost shaken by his. She swallowed hard, presuming he didn't hear her. Tears welled in her eyes when she finally acknowledged that she didn't have enough strength to call out again.

"Okay, Kate," Jack called, his voice echoing off the bland, dull walls of the shaft, "I'm coming down to get you." His voice held gallantry and promise, yet there was a falter in it, only those who knew him best would know. It stuck out to her like a sore thumb.

Closing her eyes, tears slid sideways, rolling down her icy cheeks to stiff ground underneath her. Above her, after a brief, muffled squabble with others, Jack informed that he was descending down by the means of many ropes, reinforced by Sayid, Charlie, and Hurley. Imploring her that there was nothing to worry about, and she agreed with him. Small stinging answers that were said to keep his spirits up.

Only the clamoring of his feet hitting the side walls of the shaft could be heard for sometime, the little bits of dirt from his shoes came hailing upon her, but she was far from caring. He was only sound until a bright light came from only ten feet from above her, she squinted unkindly at the sudden radiant blast of light.

Jack had turned on the tiny flashlight he used in only the severest of emergencies. The vibrant light illuminated the bottom of the shaft in one small but strong incandescent beam.

As he made the final few feet downwards, and maneuvered himself carefully so he didn't land directly on her, inflicting more damage then was already done. His shoes gently touched the ground only a few inches from her face and within seconds he was bent down beside her.

"Kate," he whispered, as his hand came gently to her face to attract her attention. Her skin was soaked in a light layer of sweat purely from terror, "What hurts?" he questioned, his exterior trying to portray a harsh, serious attitude, though with close examination, one would find his hands shaking like a leaf, "Does anything feel broken?"

She cleared her throat, the smallest action sending a wave of excruciating pain through her entire body, "Everything hurts," she disclosed quietly as another tear broke free and started the long trek down her cheek.

His eyes glimmered in the industrial light, as they scanned her body. He tried his best to hide the uneasiness in his hands as they traveled over her, softly prodding certain areas to determine the amount of damage. They were a welcomed warmth, a complete opposite to the frosty concrete cooled by the arctic night wind.

They sat in a silence that demanded somber behavior as his examination continued. The only interruptions were Kate's frequent gasps of pain. Finally after sometime, he addressed her suddenly and grimly, "Both your legs are broken, your left kneecap is dislocated. You also have three broken ribs, four sprained ribs and some liver bruising I think."

She wasn't at all surprised at the outcome, if it was as bad as it felt, then she was in trouble, "You've also lost a lot of blood, nothing too dangerous though," he informed gravely, "And getting you back up there," his head turned upwards to the opening of the hatch that seemed light years away, "It isn't going to be easy or painless."

She turned her head away from him and made a feeble, aching attempt at wiping her eyes. She was strong; she never had, nor ever would need anyone to care for her. Not since Tom. "Kate?" he questioned with a concerned cadence. It was the final straw, the one that broke the camel's back. As she faced him slowly, her face became drenched with tears.

"Kate," he whispered soothingly as he moved her slowly until she was against his chest, her legs not moving from the posture they still held, "It's okay," he enlightened, "You're gong to be fine."

She trembled in his arms, "I don't want to die Jack," she whispered, her voice unsure, as her hand grasp the soft, loose material of his shirt for comfort and assurance, "I'm so scared."

As she finished her sentence, he moved her back gently, staring into her eyes, which displayed all the anguish she had endured, "Kate," he spoke to her so gently, like her bones would shatter if he talked too loudly. But his face, riddled with dirt stains and worry lines told her every word he spoke was a serious, unspoken pledge. "You're not going to die," He spoke slowly, letting each word hit her and sink in, "I'm going to fix this. You'll be fine," He paused before declaring his final words, "I promise."

He wrapped an arm around her delicate, frail body once again, and she prevented herself from breaking down again. It was the last thing either of them needed. She wouldn't have her life in anyone else's hands but his. But his vow, though the words he spoke were full of the purest sincerity, made her blood run cold.

The day when Locke had drug Boone to the camp flashed into her mind, the way Jack had fought so hard to keep him alive. She remembered the words he spoke to Boone, so clearly in her mind, like they were visible and tangible, as if she could literally grasp them from the air.

He had promised Boone that he'd save him too, he had, in fact, uttered those exact words. An acrid lump rose in her throat as she remembered the last time she saw Boone alive. And where he lay now, six feet under.

"The hatch is bad man," Hurley informed for the fiftieth time, "Well not the hatch but the numbers, they're cursed." His sneakers drug through the fallen leaves on the ground, as he and Jack ambled back to the hatch. "I told Locke to leave it alone, now a world of pain is coming."

Jack shook his head amusedly and chuckled which elicited an annoyed glare from his companion, "A world of pain?" he repeated skeptically with an eyebrow raised. He picked up his pace, moving in front of Hurley, and stepped gingerly over branch that had been torn from a tree during one of the many tropical storms.

"You don't understand, the numbers are cursed, they're bad luck. That's why Arzt exploded, it's why the plane crashed," Hurley implored as his switched the torch he carried to his other arm, the one holding it was quickly becoming tired.

"Is that why you ran out into the jungle without a torch or protection?" Jack asked cavalierly sending a bemused smile Hurley's way.

"Its better then being by that hatch man. I'm warning you, if anyone goes down it, it's not going to turn out good," he informed bleakly. His head shook with each word as if contemplating running for it again, almost risking his life with whatever was out there, instead of returning to the hatch.

"We have to get down into the hatch tonight Hurley," Jack informed as they continued to trek through the jungle in the darkness. Crickets chirped and every now and then other animals would add their signature call to the vast night, "It's either that or we face the others."

"Dude, take it from me," Hurley began as he stopped to catch his breath, causing Jack to take a momentary rest by leaning on a nearby tree. "You'd rather face the others."

Jack wore a stern smile as he began to walk once again, "Well I'll talk it over with Locke and Kate," he enlightened as he pushed through the last few shrubs and undergrowth, emerging in the clearing of the hatch.

Hurley soon followed and both stood in awe at the discarded torch, shoved viciously into the soil made soft by the day's rainfall, "Dude, where'd they go?" Hurley asked in puzzlement as his eyes scanned the clearing once again.

"Kate?" Jack hollered into the night as he cautiously approached the torch, still burning as it stood from the ground like a monument, "Locke?"

"Oh man," Hurley moaned, his voice shaky and uneven, "That hatch got them."

"Hurley," Jack sighed as he ran a hand over his short hair in bafflement, "They probably left to find us because we took to long. Even if Locke did venture out into the jungle, Kate's not stupid enough to follow him, especially when it's dark." His answer was a well thought out one, the cadence of his voice spoke for the self confidence he felt.

"She wanted to carry the dynamite," Hurley reminded as he pursed his lips into a grim line.

"You think they went into the jungle?" Jack questioned austerely as he jabbed his torch into the ground with the one that was left behind.

"No I think that they went into the hatch," Hurley corrected as he moved to his tippy-toes to guardedly eye the hatch with suspicion.

"You think that's more plausible?" Jack asked with an almost arrogant scoff, "They decided not to wait for us and risked going down into the hatch by themselves?" His tone informed Hurley that he was not playing games, and the disappearance of the other two islanders was beginning to evolve into a dangerous situation.

"Well they're not here Dude," Hurley yelled as he held out his arms, "Where else do you suppose they are?"

"How could they even get into the hatch, there's no steps, so there's no way down," Jack exclaimed angrily as he paced around the dirt left near the area that was dug away from the hatch.

"Unless one helped the other in," A new voice suddenly joined the conversation as Rousseau walked into the light generated by the few torches.

"What are you getting at?" Jack asked stoically as he approached her quickly.

"Your friends made some sort of systems out of ropes woven from nearby vines. One lowered the other into the hatch, but the system malfunctioned and you friend plunged into the hatch," She explained bitterly, there was almost a taste of anger lingering on her words.

"Who fell into the hatch?" Jack asked, his teeth gritting and his fists clenching because he knew who it was, and whose fault it was. Before Rousseau could even issue an answer Jack had fallen to his knees before the opening of the hatch and began calling Kate's name.

"Dude, should I go back and get help?" Hurley asked as he watched Jack frantically try to get an answer from the darkness.

"Where is he?" Jack asked suddenly infuriated as he stood from beside the hatch, his fist clenched tightly, his face visibly turning red in the dim light from the fire, "Where the hell is he!"

"I'll go get other people," Hurley replied quickly before Jack had a chance to say another word.

He turned his attention back to Rousseau, "You saw it happen and you didn't try to help? Kate's been down that hole by herself for God knows how long, and you didn't even try to help?"

"I only observed when the system broke, after that it was too late to help at all. The man, he left, ran away, I assumed he was looking for help, but when he failed to show up minutes later, I supposed it was best to find help myself," she informed diligently, "That is why I was not here."

Jack's rage didn't grow, but he didn't thank Rousseau, he merely turned back to the problem at hand, which was getting Kate to give some kind of acknowledgement that she was okay and in the hatch. The more he thought about it, the more difficulties arose, "How am I supposed to get her out of there?" he questioned aloud to himself, almost forgetting that Rousseau was even present.

"Your friends' plan was faulty due weakened stress points," Rousseau commented. Watching Jack pace around nervously, she had been watching them carefully, all of them, but it was he and the girl who had caught her eye. They treated each other like she and Robert had once been. She paid close attention to everything they did, and didn't miss it when Jack had said 'how am I supposed to get her up'. He had taken her life into his own hands, similar to what she had done with Robert, and in a ways it touched her heart.

"I could correct his mistakes if you'd like," she offered.

"So how are you supposed to bring her back out Dude?" Hurley questioned as he, Sayid, and Charlie stood perfectly still. All their eyes consecutively fell upon Jack, watching as he remained still by the hatch's opening every few minutes he called Kate's name. The only answer he received was Rousseau rustling through the trees as she found strong branches to wrap the sturdy rope around.

When no answer was given, Rousseau crept out of the bushes, holding the lengthy remains of the cord; "He plans on going down the same way she went down originally. But this time the rope will be reinforced by a more thorough plan, stronger trees and the three of you who can hopefully pull them up."

"Kate," Jack called down once more. The cool metal of the hatch was beginning to burn his knees in the late night frost. He bowed his head, unsure of how to continue, he didn't know if she was awake or unconscious, whether she was capable of speaking or not, even is she was alive or dead.

He was about to call again down the hatch when he was greeted with a tiny reply. Her voice was weak and struggled, it sounded as if it had been put through a food processor, but it was her voice, and it still plucked at the strings of his heart.

"Kate," he called down to her. His heart beating so speedily that he was panting, "Can you hear me?"

The others drew closer to him, waiting to hear an answer from down the hatch. The moon had pulled itself from under the clouds and now shone brightly, tinting everything an abnormal slate color.

Jack's head dropped when he failed to hear an answer, Hurley let out a pent up sigh and the hopeful grin Charlie had worn on his face was washed off with disappointment.

"Yeah," an almost inaudible reply drifted up the hatch.

His head shot up, "Okay Kate," he answered happily as he stood up, "I'm coming down to get you." His voice was relieved and held a small amount of gallantry. He continued and explained that he would be helped down by Hurley, Sayid and Charlie, and that he would be down any second now. Her answers were curtailed as the pain was drowning out her voice.

Rousseau glanced up; a fragment of a smile graced her sullen face as she tossed the pile of rope to Jack, "None of the branches will break. The vines are enforced by twice the original had," she paused briefly as Jack smiled ruefully, "Good luck." Before Jack had a chance to thank her, she had already disappeared into the jungle, merging with the wilderness and the night.

"You should wrap the rope around you like you would a harness," Sayid spoke from behind him, "Perhaps even once through your belt loops for extra precaution."

He nodded and began to wind the rope around him, making sure that each knot was tied thoroughly and tightly. His feet thumped over the face of the hatch as he stopped at the opening. Turning around a final time he saw his friends holding the other end of the rope, smiling at him confidently.

"I'll call you when we need to be pulled up," he spoke steadily even though his body was shaking. As a child he had never been fond of small spaces, and now as an adult, they still unnerved him, memories of the cave-in became fresh once again in his mind, but he pushed them aside as he stepped through the opening.

Only four or five loose, broken steps remained, so Jack thought it best to descend down the hatch as it he were rock climbing. His back pushed against one side of the shaft, while his sneakers scuffed against the other, sending small pieces of earth and pebbles hailing downwards.

It was quiet, an unwelcome morbid quiet. The crickets had stopping singing and the night had become silent, the only sound remaining other then his grunts and the screeching from his shoes, was the distant drip or a loose water pipe.

He stopped only for a second to reach into his pocket and pull out the tiny flashlight he kept with him at all times. His fingers slipped over the button nervously as he turned it on and aimed it downwards, which was when he first saw her.

She was about ten feet below him, not moving. He felt the acrid taste of his digested supper creep up this throat, but after a harsh swallow, it had remained in his stomach.

Placing the flashlight back into his pocket, he continued climbing down until all four of the short, stocky walls met with the smooth, ruby stained floor.

He landed silently, the soles of his shoes not daring to make as much as a squeak as they made contact with the cement floor. He turned around to look at her, and was surprised to find her staring at him, almost like an injured animal in a shelter waiting to be put down.

Her green eyes held sorrow and suffering. Her head didn't move as he did, but her eyes followed him until he knelt down beside her. Her body was uncomfortably strewn between the small confines of the shaft and the large opening of what seemed to be a long, but dark hallway.

The knees of his blue jeans immediately became permeated with a lukewarm liquid. He once again swallowed the bitter lump in his throat that had crawled up from his stomach, he almost on contact knew that by the density of the liquid and the strong copper stench he'd smelt so often, that Kate was lying in a pool of her own blood.

He'd never wanted to see anyone this way, especially Kate. He hated being there when patients were brought into surgery, the way their eyes pleaded with his to save them, to fix them, to give them a lolly pop and call their broken bones, or cancer cured. But he couldn't save anyone, he could only do as he was taught and hope his skills were at a high enough level to aide at least a bit.

Now as he watched Kate, her lungs struggling to get the air her body required, her eyes giving up and falling closed in an effort to extinguish the pain and conserve energy, he felt his heart bleed. The solemn feeling of remorse hit his body like he had just been tossed into a tank of icy cold water.

His hand moved up to her cheek gently, he had to keep her awake long enough to get the extent of her injuries and explain how exactly he was supposed to get her out of the hatch when it was obvious to him, and he presumed Kate knew as well, that both her legs were broken.

"Kate?" he whispered gently, the pad of his dirty, calloused thumb drug across her face as an action of the purest comfort.

Those captivating eyes opened sluggishly and his throat went dry. If he didn't talk to her in a calm demeanor, she would know how bad he thought it really was, "What hurts?" he questioned almost stuttering, but recovering quickly. He prayed she didn't see his hands, or how they quivered when ever they came close to her, as if he touched her, she would crumble. "Does anything feel broken?"

"Everything hurts," she whispered, her voice was hoarse, and running shaky. As she watched him, her pallid skin aglow, silent tear trailed down her battered cheek staining an almost transparent stripe. She was cool to the touch, her skin icy and sticky with a thin layer of sweat. The type of cool sweat that drenches a body from sheer terror. Her eyes were unfocused, but she tried to plaster them to his shifty hazel eyes as he continued his scan of her broken body.

Starting with her legs, he moved up slowly and thoroughly, prodding every questionable area twice. Her body jerked as her fingers twitched against the firm, smooth ground. She was in pain; he knew it, and it made him indignant. If he'd stayed with her, this wouldn't have happened.

Her legs were broken; both of them. Her left leg was fractured halfway through the shin bone, an almost irreversible break. The other was a simple fracture, but her kneecap had been dislocated along with the split.

Moving his hands upwards, placidly skimming them over her hips and stomach. Her eyes were closed now, but her labored breaths could still be seen as she continually forced herself to inhale another, then another. There was not a halcyon characteristic to her face; her eyes were clamped shut, her skin turning a malignant hue in the manufactured light.

The right side of her abdomen was stiff, almost as if only solid muscle or rock lay underneath the thin layers of delicate skin. Upon her next inhalation her stomach quavered weakly as she laid almost exanimate, trying to confine her shudders from spreading through her body and causing her immense pain.

He sighed, his body and mind shaken by just the sight of her. For a moment he retracted his hand, and ran the back of it over his forehead, he was beginning to sweat mildly, and his breathing patterns were still greatly increased from what they had been before.

Closing his eyes momentarily, he tried not to envision her body lying before him, crumpled and torn like a two day old newspaper that still had many articles left to read, but had been prematurely thrown out.

Opening his eyes slowly he hardly noticed when they burned from lack of sleep and light. All he could see was Kate. He saw she was still in the same position she had been since he'd arrived for the rescue. Part of his mind teetered on the revolting but highly plausible thought that maybe her back had been injured or worse, broken.

A harsh breath escaped her as his fingers played over her ribs, trying to count how many were broken and how many were sprained. His trained hands gently running up the crevices located between each bone.

He had no idea how to break this news to her. He could do it with anyone else, with the mother who had entrusted him with her son's life; he could tell her that her boy didn't make it. But no where in medical school, had they ever taught him how to break such news to someone who mattered so much to you.

In an absence of lucidity and well planned thoughts, his mouth escaped the tyranny of his brain and sped off what he knew, "Both your legs are broken, and your left kneecap is dislocated. You have three broken ribs, four cracked ribs and some liver bruising."

She looked up into his eyes, like she knew the outcome was going to be bad. It made sense, if anyone should know how drastic the injuries were, it would be someone who attained them themselves.

He let out a captive sigh, "You've also lost a lot of blood, nothing too dangerous though," he leaned his body back, away from hers, not wanting to see the mess she had become anymore. "Getting you up there," he gestured skywards to the miniscule opening of the hatch that seemed as small as one of the billions stars strewn across in the night sky, "It isn't going to be easy or painless."

He hadn't contemplated the words that left his mouth, but as soon as they did, he regretted the tone he'd used. He was treating her as if she were baggage, pitying her rather then helping her, "Kate?' he questioned worriedly

She turned to face him hesitantly, her tear soaked face glimmering like crystal. His chest became tight, Kate was strong. Stronger then himself even, he'd admit that to anyone. But in her current state, she couldn't help but break down.

"Kate," he whispered softly, ignoring the burning in his heart every time he looked at her. He gently slipped his hand underneath her back and lifted her lightly to rest against his chest, taking extra time not to move either of her legs.

Her face was damp and cold against his chest, the thin material of her shirt was soaked and littered with small bits of grim, "It's okay," he whispered into the mess of curls that his chin was resting on, "You're going to be fine."

A shuddered ripped through her body and her hand gripped the loose material of his shirt tightly, "I don't want to die Jack," she cried weakly. Her breath warming and tickling his neck. "I'm so scared."

Her admittance startled him; it caused him to feel a mixture of emotion that was overwhelming him slightly. He pulled her back, knowing that immediately she must have thought she'd done or said something wrong, "Kate," he repeated once again, his voice weaker, more emotional then he'd thought. She stared at him, her face a mixture of defeat, mud stains, and small cuts and bruises.

"You're not going to die," he informed unhurriedly, he wanted her to know that he meant every word that left his tongue and floated out of his mouth, "I'm going to fix this. You'll be fine." He didn't break eye contact with her, an action telling her that he was declaring the truth. Her face lightened for a moment, and he added, "I promise."

Replacing his arm around her back, she fell into his chest once again. He felt her front teeth bite her bottom lip in order to prevent her from crying anymore. Her body was so icy against his, so frail and broken.

Ask his cheek lean against the wet mass of curls on her head, he couldn't help but flashback to the day when Locke had dumped Boone off at the caves. Falsely declaring what had happened then fled like a coward while no one was looking. Jack wasn't able to save Boone, but he secretly swore he'd never let it happen again. He'd never let anyone from flight 815 take the life of another on board.

He foolishly hadn't paid close enough attention to Locke's actions. Now Kate was painfully paying for his ignorance and once again Locke had fled. Inadvertently, his fists balled against Kate's back, as rage boiled in his veins.

Wherever Locke was, Jack would find him. He would hunt him down solitarily if it came to that, and he would make him pay. He would make him see his wrongs, and he would make him apologize one way or another, for committing them.

Against his chest, Kate released a weak sound of pain and reality dawn upon him once again. He would confront Locke, that was certain. But first he had to save Kate.

Her head lolled against his shoulder limply as her heavy eyelids fell closed. Jack still cradled her in his lap, trying his best to keep her warm while they waited. Between her cold sweat and the damp, chilly ambiance of the hatch she was almost convulsing with cold.

Jack had ordered Hurley, Charlie and Sayid to search for branches or sticks from the surrounding trees that he could use to set Kate's leg with and send them down with the rest of the medical tape that was left at the cave. He had explained clearly that they couldn't go anywhere until he set her legs, he didn't want to risk doing more damage to them then that which had already been done.

They sat in silence, neither felt that talking would lighten the mood nor did it seem appropriate. Kate was too preoccupied with the constant shudders and pain to think of a discussion topic. Jack was too deep in thought; he seemed to be drifting out of consciousness to an almost meditative state.

In the fraction of her mind that was not obsessing over the injuries, Kate wondered how irate Jack really was. She new it was a factor on his silence, but didn't know how large of a percentage it contributed. His dark, guarded eyes peered at the opposite wall of the shaft, almost staring into an invisible abyss. His jaw was set in an emotion that mimicked anger and disappointment.

With Jack, both had different outcomes. Usually when he was upset with her, he kept his distance until they either reconciled or exploded, which eventually would lead to an almost forced resolution. If he was disappointed in her, he'd berate and chide her until he was red in the face, making her feel as low as she could about her misdeeds. And as harsh a reaction as it may seem, it usually kept her from committing acts she knew would upset him.

But now he neither screamed nor reproached. He didn't seem infuriated or dissatisfied. He merely sat stationary; his arm wrapped around her back tepidly, and stared at the wall deep in thought.

As another shiver traveled through her, she adjusted her body against his slightly, taking extra precaution, making sure she didn't move her legs more then she had to. She leaned in closer to him as a ragged breath escaped her lips. The slimy, material on her shirt stuck to her back as her teeth began to chatter.

Then suddenly, as if someone had jolted him out of a long slumber, Jack seemed to reenter reality. His hand fell around her stomach, and his other, which was lying dreamily on the floor, wrapped around the front of her body to reach his other arm.

"Will be out of here soon," he whispered indifferently as his clammy, but warm hand rubbed up and down her arm in an attempt to keep her warm.

She absentmindedly gripped the fabric of his shirt tight between her fingers; the tone of his voice startled her, it was almost as cold as the moist concrete they sat on. Nevertheless her head slumped heavily to the crook of his neck where warmth seemed to be radiating.

The temperature of his skin heated her cheek and she found herself involuntarily moving awkwardly closer to him, almost snuggling against him. She expected Jack to pull away, or let out a sigh of discomfort, some small protest because he wasn't ready for this, or didn't want it.

When his hand moved up and brushed over her matted hair, her heart almost stopped, as if this comforting, almost loving gesture was a sign of final exception. His index finger trailed over her cheek as it tucked back a clump of knotted hair behind her ear. It was so light, it almost floated ethereally. The only proof being the modest warming sensation that the pad of his finger left on her skin.

"Jack!" Charlie's voice almost distorted as it rang through the hatch, it was shaky and quick. The same type he used for any stressful, disastrous situation, "Jack we found a lot of sticks. Sayid's just tying them to the rope now, then we'll send them down." He never even waited to hear if Jack or Kate was still conscious, he was too jittery.

"Okay," Jack called up stoically as his hand still stroked her arm comfortingly as her eyes became heavy once again, like opposite magnets attracting one another.

Her mind slipped blank as the light from the flashlight was turned into darkness by her closed eyes. She stopped sensing the agonizing pain that her body was in cause by each breath or blink. The cold melted away as if the sun had finally come out and forced it's warmth down into the depths of the hatch.

Then a brilliant flash of light passed before her, blinding her with hurt as she felt her limbs and temples throb. Her eyes opened and she was once again greeted by the hatch. Her eyes watered with pain as she nervously tried to piece together what had happened.

She lay flat on her back once again, Jack no longer behind her, no longer feeling safe and warm. Opening her eyes again, her vision was blurred as her head swam.

"Kate," Jack called to her soothingly. She felt something stiff against the side of her leg, and realized he must have been setting it, "It's okay, I set your legs," he told her softly, but his words offered no placate against the grave aching she was forced to endure.

Her lips showed no sign of moving to form an answer. She wouldn't, it was useless. Whatever was going to happen, would happen no matter what she did or didn't do. It was best to sit back and allow it to occur without interference and anguish.

His hand floated softly over her cheek, and in one last second of unbridled weakness she allowed herself to cry. Frozen tears rolled down her cheek, their temperature caused by the lifelessness she felt, the hopelessness that had invaded her heart.

His fingers brushed the tears away from her face, leaving tiny smudges of mud caused by the mixture of earth and water, "You're legs are fine Kate," he assured, "I just have to secure the rope around you and me, then we can get out of here. Hurley, Sayid and Charlie are waiting up there to heave us out."

"I'm tired Jack," she stated bluntly. The cold breath was stinging her lungs, her breathing felt compressed, her legs felt as if they'd been placed through a meat grinder, and her stomach felt bruised and swollen.

Before she could even turn her glance to him, he had already answered her, "No," he shook his head, as his eyes sent an overpowering glare to her, "No Kate, I'm not leaving you down here."

She sighed with irritation and turned away from him, "Jack, we're not…"

"No," he told her sternly as he turned her head to face him once again, "Either both of us leave this hatch or neither of us does," he clarified seriously, "I'm not leaving you Kate."

He could feel the rise and fall of her chest against his as she struggled for breath. Out of the three ribs she had fractured, only one was in danger of constricting her lung, but one was enough.

How could he have left her to retrieve Hurley? His intentions were to make sure no one else died on this quest to open the hatch. He thought that if Hurley got chased by the monster, he would go down fast. His assumptions had led him in the wrong direction.

If he could he'd choose not to chase after Hurley as he ran into the jungle in a state of madness, screaming about cursed numbers. He would've stayed with Kate and Locke and persuaded her not to do down into this dungeon. She would've hated him for being overprotective, but he'd rather have her loathe him, then not be alive at all.

He had told the others to go and retrieve the strongest, straightest, lightest branches they could find so he could set Kate's legs. The task would take up some time, finding a branch with exactly the same aspects as he had demanded wouldn't be easy to come by, but with the night hindering their search, they would be looking for quite some time.

His mind skipped like an old scratched up forty-five, or a poorly and illegally burned CD. It kept repeating the procedures he'd have to perform. Popping Kate's dislocated kneecap back into place would be excruciatingly painful, as would setting her legs.

In the back of Jack's mind, he feared that wasn't all. She was showing multiple signs of shock, which could be life threatening. He tried to block out all of the dreadful thoughts, or the fact that if she was in fact in shock, there was next to nothing he could do about it.

He felt her frozen body shuffle clumsily closer to his chest in an attempt for warmth. The sudden change of temperature startled him momentarily, but he realized the dire importance of keeping her warm.

His arm fell across her stiff abdomen as the other wrapped around her body, trying to conceal the heat. Her hope needed to be fueled because if it were extinguished, she wouldn't make it out of the hatch alive.

"Will be out of here soon," the tone of his voice surprised him. He'd meant to sound calm, not uncaring. To cancel out his arrogant vibe, he gently rubbed up and down her arm. He noticed he was sweating from anxiety, and took note that she was colder then he'd realized. Another bad sign.

He felt her give a slight tug of assurance at the loose material of his shirt. Then her head fell to the crook of his neck, the feel of her frozen cheek against the nap of his neck almost made him jump.

She had never been this close to him, this intimate with him. She had never bothered to share her feelings, or request help with the exception of the briefcase. Her way had been to keep all her emotions bottled away with the memories of those who had broken her trust. She had never admitted she was scared before, or that she needed any sort of reassurance, but now, here in his lap, she seemed to crave it.

He looked down to the messy, disheveled knot her hair had become, and felt her convulse once more. Looking at her form, so weak, so hapless, his brain finally acknowledged that he had more then friendly feelings toward her.

Part of him always knew there was something more there. The omnipresent flirting and small quips told him that, but when one is stranded on an island with unknown people, one's mind starts to wander. He had dismissed the idea early, believing that his feelings were caused by the need for immediate attachment to another person, and Kate happened to be the first female to catch his eye.

He realized if she died tonight, he would break down. She kept him sane, a friendly face in a crowd of concerns. She allowed him to unwind around her, let him share secrets with her, listened soulfully and offered him an unbiased shoulder to cry on. He'd miss her as a friend, but he'd miss her so much more for what they could've been together.

As if finally agreeing with what his intuition had been repeating to him for the last forty-five days, he brought his hand down, and gently ran it over her curls. Though they were wet with the mustiness of the hatch, they were still velvety soft.

He felt the muscles in her arms tense by the sudden tenderness of his actions, but it melted away, as if disintegrated by the strong winds. A small smile victoriously claimed the corners of his mouth slightly as he softly brushed the hard pad of his index finger against her face, guiding a stray clump of hair back behind her ear.

A final ragged breath escaped her body as she seemed to fall almost instantly into sleep. Like a chain reaction, his body seemed to relax. His muscles loosed and his heart which had been pumping at high speeds, seemed to finally have slowed down for a short rest.

"Jack!" Charlie hollered from above, his voice was jittery, just as it had been when he went on very first expedition with himself and Kate to find the cockpit. But at that time he'd been high. But Charlie had done the withdrawal, and one of the few good things of a remote island was the fact that there was no drugs, "Jack we found a lot of sticks. Sayid's just tying them to the rope now, then we'll send them down."

"Okay," Jack called up indifferently; he was now closely watching his hand trail up and down Kate's arm.

He became aware that she had fallen into an exhausted sleep; her body went limp against his chest and the anguish that sullied her face was washed away by the serenity of her mind.

"Jack!" Charlie called down once again, "Jack are you still there?" There was a lingering, high-pitched screech after his voice had stopped, the residue of it still echoing through the hatch.

Jack's teeth grinded against each other at the fear that Kate might wake up so soon after she had fallen asleep, "Charlie," he called up coolly, though the hidden anger could be heard on his voice, "She's asleep, and if we want to spare her any pain, it's better this way."

There was a brief pause and an echoing of small pebbles hitting the walls and tumbling downwards like a tiny rockslide, "Oh," Charlie's voice rang, it was quieter, more reserved like a child who'd just received a chiding, "Sorry, the branches are coming down is all. And Sayid wasn't you to tell us when you two are ready to be hauled up," he informed quickly, verbally stumbling, and then all was silent again.

Jack sighed dejectedly, he hadn't meant to snap at Charlie, but he was beginning to feel cramped in the hatch, and his mind didn't want to comprehend what he would have to do to Kate in a few moments.

The scraping sound of the limbs being lowered into the hatch made an unusual echo as they hit the walls every few seconds. The hatch was beginning to become smaller, more contorted by Jack's view, making him extremely anxious about the whole ordeal.

Sliding his arm from around Kate, he rubbed his confused eyes until he was sure he could function properly. His body kept telling him he needed to sleep, but he'd politely remind it of when he had pulled twenty-four hour shifts at the hospital and that now was no time for sleep.

Kate let out a small moan from where she lay passed out in his lap, her she winced, her eyes pressed together tightly, in a pain that he fathomed she could feel even in the deepest of slumbers.

As he heard the branches come closer, he reluctantly moved her off his lap gently. He slid her to the ground and watched as another chilled wave worked its way through her.

"Will be out of here soon Kate," he informed as he ran a hand over her hair, staring at her pale face, "I promise." The freckles he had always loved now stuck out like the stars in the deep night sky.

He gripped the flashlight, and aimed it upwards. When the branches were only a few feet above his reach, Jack stood up, hesitant on leaving Kate's side even if it were only for a moment.

He reached upwards and grabbed the bundle of wood, tided securely and expertly by Sayid. He wondered what they were doing up above. Hurley was probably blaming himself or the numbers, Jack didn't know the story behind them, but they seemed to have driven him to a crazed state. Charlie would be walking and muttering to himself unsurely as he paced nervously around the hatch, speaking up now and again to ask Sayid if they should call down again. Sayid would merely be silent, and patient. Waiting to be alerted when needed.

Swiftly untying the knot that was sturdy but quickly undone, Jack rifled through the selection of sticks he'd been given and found four that he could use for Kate's injuries.

Pushing the rest aside, he grasp the chosen branches and the medical tape and moved to a position at Kate's feet, silently pondering how exactly should he do this. He had agreed with himself early on, that if she had fallen asleep he would leave her that way, the sleep, caused by exhaustion would most likely last through the pain of the set knee and legs alike. But if she woke up during the process, she would be terrified and in immense pain.

Weighing the good against the bad, he finally decided on not waking her, and taking his chances while correcting her injuries. Languidly, his shaky hands clamped around her dislodged knee, he didn't notice how the strong characteristic of his hands loomed over her shin, he took in a deep breath and mutter a quick, "One. Two. Three. Four. Five."

On the last number he jerked his hands, and with a repulsive crack, her knee had fallen back into place. He paused a moment, glancing at Kate, fearing she would wake, but she didn't even stir.

Working speedily, he found two branches for her left leg, and placed them parallel to it. His hands slid around the gritty fabric of her blue jeans and pulled her leg until it was the original angle. He meticulously moved the fabric up and placed the branched directly to her torn skin, which was covered in goose bumps.

He hurriedly wrapped the first roll of tape around her shin, covering it completely and continuing until the tape had run out. He wanted to make sure the makeshift cast was secure; he didn't want to have to do this ever again.

Kate groaned agonizingly in her sleep. Jack's heart froze; he only had one more leg to set, if he worked speedily and scrupulously he could have it set before she woke up.

He rolled up her right pant leg quickly, ignoring the feelings he felt in the pit of his stomach as his knuckles brushed across the silky skin of her shin. He prodded her skin harshly until finding the area where the bone had fractured, then placed it back to its original structure.

Whipping out the last roll of medical tape, his mind didn't even worry about he supplies he was using on her. He didn't care if he had to administer the remains of the dwindling provisions to Kate alone, he would save her. At any cost.

He pulled the tape out and began to tape the branches to her leg. He hadn't notice his body temperature grow until sweat began to dribble down him forehead and into his eyes annoyingly.

Once the tape was three quarters gone, he pulled back momentarily and wiped the sweat away from his face with the back of his hand. He hadn't realized he'd been breathing so quickly or deeply so for a short time he leaned back against the close confines of the hatch and closed his eyes for a moment of thought and reflection.

Then from down the dark hallway, so spacious that the tiny flashlight Jack was equipped with wouldn't light up more than five feet within it, a whisper escaped. Then another and another until a dull roar of whispers began to rise over the deafening silence he was becoming used to.

Some of the whispers were audible, faceless people speaking about getting the boy, or the sailing of the raft. But then over the other's came a purposely loud murmur voicing then next point of attack, "Opened," it said perfectly clearly, the voice was husky and angered, "Trespasser. Get girl." The broken English was enough to send Jack's heart fluttering with fear.

Turning hurriedly to the rope, he accidentally hit Kate's leg. She woke up with a loud scream that seemed to resonate through the entire hatch, down the tunnel and to the whispers, quieting them for a moment.

"Kate," he called to her calmingly, he wouldn't let her find out about the impending threat that lay just down the tunnel, "It's okay, I set your legs," he informed almost to quickly, his composed manner was certainly slipping away from him at an exceeded rate.

When she didn't answer him, he became worried. He made the choice to stop tying the rope around himself and knelt down beside her once again. The knees of his jeans ripped into the concrete ground where her blood had dried, causing it to rub off on his pants. He comfortingly placed a hand to her cheek and waited for some response, when it came to him in the form of tears, he had to bite the inside of his mouth in order to hold back his own.

His fingers came to her cheek once again and gently brushed the frozen tears away like they were flower petals that had fallen on her from a tree. The gesture didn't placate her, in fact the only thing it managed to do was to leave little smears of mud across her gorgeous face.

"You're legs are fine," he told her in case she was worried about her own well being, but something told him, that wasn't the problem. "You're legs are fine Kate," he assured, "I just have to secure the rope around you and me, then we can get out of here. Hurley, Sayid and Charlie are waiting up there to heave us out." He informed her of his plans, trying to add a forced sense of humor to the situation, while frantically taking a glance every few seconds behind his back.

Her face was angled away from him when she spoke brusquely, "I'm tired Jack." His body jerked. No. He already knew it was a no. Nothing she could do or say would change his mind. No way in hell he was leaving her down here.

She turned to face him, her empty eyes burning into his, pleading with him to say or do something to make it better. "No," he declared sternly, his lips pursed his eyebrows furrowed with the anger of the situation. His eyes glared at hers, no matter how emotionless they may be, "No Kate, I'm not leaving you down here."

A sigh escaped her as she refused to look at him and his eye twitched, how could she act this way when he was trying his best to fix her? Then he realized that she was trying to make him upset with her, so he'd agree and leave her to die here, "Jack, we're not…"

"No," his answer was sharp and overpowering, almost cutting through the air of the hatch. His warm hand slipped around her chin and he turned her face to look at his, so it was only inches away, "Either both of us leave this hatch or neither of us does," he enlightened, his voice not wavering, "I'm not leaving."

Her eyes fell to the floor like an animal that had been scolded and he carefully slid his hand away from her face. While she sat in defeated silence, his trained hands worked skillfully at tying the rope around him just as it had been when he was lowered down, while his brain flew over thousands of ideas about how to get Kate up safely.

After the rope was wrapped around him he bent down and helped Kate sit up so he could slide the ample remainder of the cord underneath her thighs gingerly and tie it tight. When the rest of the rope was used, Jack paused for a moment, "You're secure to the rope, but if you fall again, you'll just be attached to the rope."

Kate cocked her head slightly in puzzlement, and as Jack opened his mouth to reply, a wave of conversation flowed from the other end of the dark tunnel. They both froze, staring into the darkness in blind terror.

"Give me your belt," Jack demanded as he speedily checked the knots again making sure every little thing was proper.

"What?" Kate questioned skeptically as her hands fumbled with the buckle indolently.

"Now Kate!" he demanded harshly. The change in his attitude sparked some reserve of energy in her as she ripped off the belt and handed it to Jack.

"Lean close to me," He stated as he took off his belt as well. Without a word Kate shuffled her body so it was only inches from his.

Working quickly he strung her belt through one loop on her jeans and one loop on his jeans, then did the same with his, "In case you fall," he stated as he picked up his flashlight. The belts would keep them connected, even if the rope broke. He wasn't going to let this happen to her again.

He leaned over her; the growth on his chin scratched against the cool skin of her shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her and stood up with an awkward, unbalanced step.

One of his hands was hooked just under her shoulders, while the other held her weight by the bottom, like a mother would carry their toddler, "It's the best way to carry you," he divulged as he pulled on the rope frantically to tell the other's above that they were ready to be hauled up, "Your legs won't be moved much."

The voices grew louder, and angrier. Profanities and carefully described actions were easily heard as footsteps grew closer, echoing down the hallway. They glanced to the tunnel, then above them to the opening, "Sayid!" Jack yelled, "You've got to pull us out now!"

There was no sign of an understanding or answer. The voices grew, the footsteps became louder and closer together. The others' were running towards them, "Sayid!" Jack yelled as he held Kate tight to his chest.

Less then a second later the harsh yank pulled the rope from around Jack and he and Kate began to rise off the floor, "Sayid, you guys have to pull faster," he hollered fervently, "There are people down here, we've got to get out."

"Hold on," he replied from above. With another jerk the duo stopped moving completely, hanging only a few feet off the ground. Then at the very last second, the pulling continued at an exceeded rate and within minutes they were almost halfway out of the hatch.

"Are you okay?" He questioned, her face was stained with fear, her eyes glittered and her hands shook nervously.

"Yeah. Yeah I'm fine," she told him as she leaned her head against his shoulder, "A few superficial injuries. Besides my legs and stomach I feel fine," she disclosed as her cheek pressed against the side of his neck. Her arms linked around his neck as she held onto him snugly.

"I'm glad you're okay," he whispered into her ear as she closed her eyes. A rueful smile passed over her lips, but disappeared quickly as they journeyed closer to the opening of the hatch.

Congratulations, you've survived the first chapter of 'The Locke Problem.' It only took FOREVER AND A DAY! Well better start working on something….