Disclaimer: J.J. created all the character's you recognize. Any that you have never heard of before, are of my own invention. Led Zeppelin, and the accompanying lyrics also do not belong to me.

Thank's to my lovley Beta Nic/Star.

AU: This fic is set right after the events of What Kate did, up until the father/son computer conversation. From then on out it will deviate from canon, some things in the past will have changed as well. But nothing too big.

Flashbacks will be in Italic's

Only In The Past . . .

Chapter 1

Jack ran, through the jungle, for once not because he had to, but because he wanted to. Running had helped him deal with stress in the past. Many an urge to kill his father had been pacified by running. But today it wasn't helping; a kiss was doing more damage then almost any dieing patient. It wasn't just the kiss, but the way she had reacted, as if it was just for show.

He stopped, near, a papaya tree. Leaning up against the trunk. Only then did he realize that he was more lost then usual. Now not only was he lost on an Island in the middle of somewhere (or nowhere – even that part wasn't clear yet). He had no idea on how he could get back to the caves or the beaches from were he currently was.

The sky was overcast – so much for navigating by the sun. Jack turned left, hoping that it was were he came from. He stopped right away, unless he had leaped over a huge gorge, during his confusion fueled run; he had not come from that direction.

Woooewooo – if Jack had been anywhere else on earth he would have believed the sound to come from the beginning of Led Zeppelin's Immigrant song. Right before the band broke out into 'we come from the land of the ice and the snow'. Since he was on craphole island Zeppelin wasn't exactly an option, it was the whisper's. The one's he heard, in the wood's, and in every dream he had had since he had crashed on this island.

Jack peered though the bushes reassuring himself that it was just Claire calming the baby with a reed whistle, or the wind in the trees. Jack couldn't see Claire, and when he shouted her name, no one returned the call. Jack looked into the green and there, below the darkening sky – he saw Walt, dark against the green, shiny with sweat, and breathing heavily.

"Walt' Jack screamed. Walt didn't react he continued to stare at Jack, No it was more as if he was looking through Jack, to whatever was beyond him. Jack observed. Jack looked behind him; no one was standing there with a baseball bat raised over their heads, ready to strike him down. However a few meter's back, in the heavy brush there was whispers – and rustling. For one moment, jack saw a foot, through the leaves. Jack ran towards Walt. He grabbed the boy – almost shocked by the fact, the boy was not a phantom, but flesh and blood.

Jack threw Walt over his shoulder – firemen style, and ran, - as best he could, well carrying a boy through underbrush. Jack could here footsteps behind his own, not just one pair, but many. Still he didn't look back. That would only slow him down.

Then in the forest, bedside's the Banana tree, a man stepped out of the shadow, and directly in front of Jack. Jack screamed, from shock, but he still didn't stop. Even in the overcast-half light, he could see that he knew the Man. Not well but he knew him.

The Man, was Michael Vaughn, he had sat two rows behind Jack on flight 815. Vaughn, had survived, the crash, became a beach dweller, but mostly kept to himself. The quite type who still always seemed to know what was going on. Vaughn stepped back into the shadow's as Jack came closer. Were the hell was he going? Couldn't he see that Jack needed help?

Jack ran past the tree, or rather he tried. Vaughn's hand grabbed his arm, and pulled Jack behind the tree, into the shadows. Walt whimpered, from his shoulder perch. The other's footsteps were fast approaching. What had Vaughn done? The others were not idiot's they would find them here, and they had lost their valuable head start. Jack was going to get up, and start running again. One look from Vaughn's eternal eyes kept Jack in his position. The other's – Jack could now see that there were only two of them, ran past then stopped.

While Jack was still wondering what was to happen next, Vaughn flew out of hiding place feet first – the soul's of his hiking boot's connecting with the taller darker Other at his throat. Right underneath his chin. The Tall Other gasped, as Vaughn swiveled, kicked Shortie, in the chest. Shorter, lurched forward, and Vaughn kicked once more, this time his foot connected with the place that really hurt's, and shortly fell on the ground. Meanwhile, the other Other – the Taller one had regained his breath and part of his composure.

Enough of his composure to slug Vaughn, in the arm. Vaughn didn't even tremble, he just punched back - a quick one two, in the stomach. The other fell backwards but managed not to hit the ground. Instead he hit a tree, and rebounded off. Now his once empty hand was holding a knife, Vaughn grabbed the tall man's hand and twisted the knife out of it. The Tall guy instinctively started to run away, and Vaughn threw the knife, which flew instinctive and true, into the tall man's back.

The tall man gasped and fell. Only then was Jack aware that he had done nothing the whole fight, and Vaughn had handled it beautifully. As if he had done it all before, as if he never feared for his life, as if this was just routine. Jack left Walt in the bushes after asking if the boy was OK. Walt could only nod. Jack checked the tall guy's pulse – he was definitely dead. The short guy, now bound and gagged by an efficient Vaughn, was alive.

'Vaughn'

'Yes"

"What are you doing out here"

"Hunting"

"For boar?" Jack said sarcastically

'Another hatch – the tail ender's were in one – so I knew there must be more, and there is'

"You have seen them"

Vaughn nodded "well not all of them – Just one, It's quite near here' with that Vaughn tossed, the bound and gagged other over his shoulder, and started to walk.

"You coming?' he shouted back to Jack

Jack nodded and grabbed Walt's hand. He had so many questions for Walt, but he could, and did ask them as they walked heading steadily north. Or at least what Jack considered to be north. On this Island one could never know. It was almost as if the island and the tree's moved regularly.

Vaughn's definition of near was anything but. By the time they arrived Jack had managed to ask Walt all sorts of questions. Although most of the answer's he received were yes or no, with a couple of ummm's thrown in for good measure. However by the time they arrived at the now rusty door, Jack was able to glean that Walt's favorite power ranger was the pink one, that the others had kidnapped Walt with some sort of specific goal in mind. But he was not all that they hopped for. He wasn't pure. Whatever that meant. They had still kept him, just, not as tightly supervised as the other kidnapped individual's. Thus he and he alone had been able to escape.

As they stepped inside the cavernous, 'hatch" Jack realized that Walt wasn't the only one who needed to answer some question's . . .

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Next Chapter, Vaughn's First back flash, and some hatch exploring.