The Confidante
The dark haired man sat upon the rocky ledge and let his booted feet dangle carelessly over the side. His hands rested on his thighs, but remained motionless as the sun began its unhurried descent into the endless pool of clear water. It was a scene he had watched countless times before.
This was his spot. The one place he had staked claim to a mere seven days after Oceanic Flight 815 plummeted to the earth, like a mallard flying along minding his own business, and getting blasted out of the sky by some asshole crouching amongst the foliage. The "Others" he laughed inwardly, could go screw themselves. "This is our Island," the fat guy had told him, "We just let you live here." It had been on the tip of his tongue to tell the son of bitch that he and the other castaways would be more than happy to vacate the premises. They could keep the "boobie-trapped, monster infested, electro-magnetized, jungle whispering…and God knew what else", Island all for themselves. This place, he rationalized, was like an oversized Venus fly trap. It had an uncanny ability to lure innocent unsuspecting victims into its lair, and once in its grasp there was no escape; and little chance of ever being rescued.
Jack exhaled the breath he had been holding as his mind flashed over the events and tragedies they had dealt with over the past seven weeks. Mostly, he thought about the people they had lost. The lone pilot who miraculously survived the crash, only to be violently ripped from the cock pit like some hapless rag doll who was at the mercy of an ill-behaved toddler. It had all happened so fast he didn't have time to react; to even attempt a rescue of the unsuspecting man. The incident had given him an incredibly surreal sensation; like they were caught in a scene from the movie Predator. That unnerving feeling of being stalked, hunted, trapped; and not having a damn clue what the hell the thing even was, much less how to figure out a way to defend against it. He had been confident however, that rubbing mud all over themselves probably wouldn't provide them with the same results as Schwarzenegger was lucky enough to discover just in the nick of time. So much for a sci-fi movie stepping up to the challenge and saving the day. That would have been too easy…and "easy" just didn't fit the description of this particular Island.
His thoughts shifted next to the Marshall, and he felt his gut clench up once again in response to the decision he had made. A feeling of nausea rolled over him as he relived the moment he stared down at the writhing individual before him. The Marshall's obsessive concerns and dire warnings about Kate Austen were forever in the past, as the dying man had pleaded with him to end his suffering. At that moment, he hadn't been sure which emotion was more prevalent. The shock of what he was about to do, or the anger for being in this place…forced to make a choice that was against his moral and ethical responsibilities. Having decided on his "method", Jack had removed the pillow from behind the Marshall's head, and looked remorsefully into the man's fearful eyes before placing it over his face and pressing down.
The deed had been quick, and he knew the precise moment the Marshall's life ended…ended at his own hands. The incident left a mark on him that could never be changed or erased; much less forgotten. It was the first time he had ever taken a person's life, and he fervently had hoped…it would be the last.
"I'm not a murderer," he had told Kate only a short time before it happened. Maybe he wasn't a murderer, but he definitely could now be considered a killer, and he wasn't entirely sure there was a significant difference between the two. Either way…the end result was the same.
He had been surprised. He thought he would have felt more anger…more hatred towards Sawyer. It was his actions, his decision to shoot the man that had put it all in motion; or was it? Deep down Jack had questioned whether he could have watched the man suffer over the course of the following days knowing, despite all his training and experience, there was nothing he could do to save him. At some point, would he have given in to the dying man's pleas? That, he didn't, nor would he ever know the answer too.
The memories came faster as he thought about Joanna, Claire and Walt's abduction, Charlie's brush with death, Scott's murder, and Boone's…accident. Now Michael had run off and death had claimed yet another, as Shannon joined her brother in a shallow grave by his side. To someone going through their everyday life; working, raising kids, planning vacations…they probably couldn't comprehend how a group from such different backgrounds and lifestyles, could become so close and some of them actually fall in love, in such a short span of time. But he knew…he knew and understood. Jack had seen it in Sayid's eyes. The pain and loss he felt at Shannon's death was absolutely real. He wished nothing more than to be able to go back...and...and somehow fix everything. He knew, of course, that was completely absurd. He couldn't control the outcomes of the past anymore then he would be able to predict or prevent every hardship in the coming days ahead; of that he was certain. Having that knowledge however, did not seem to curb his compulsive behavior to beret himself over his perceived failures. He sighed in frustration.
If the trials and tribulations they had faced on the Island weren't enough, Jack continued to regurgitate his own relationship problems in his spare time. He shook his head trying, unsuccessfully, to dislodge the unpleasant memories, and pain that always seemed to accompany them. He was oblivious to the person who had silently crept up and was now standing a few feet behind him.
"I figured I would find you here," the female voice said quietly, as the sound snapped him back to reality, and he looked up into the familiar face.
"A penny for your thoughts?" she said.
"Trust me…you probably want to hang on to that penny and spend it on something else," he replied.
"Hmmm...Well I think I'll be the judge of that," she said as she closed the gap between them.
"Mind if I sit down?"
"Not at all," he answered with a welcoming grin as he held out his hand. She grasped it firmly and lowered herself next to him on the rock.
"It's a beautiful night," she said admiring the picture perfect sunset.
"Yea…it is," he agreed.
"You want to just sit Jack…or do you feel like talking?" she inquired, as she shifted her gaze from the sea of blue to the eyes of brown.
He shrugged his shoulders and rubbed his right hand over the scruff on his face that, in another few days, would technically be considered a beard.
"You need a shave," she added in response to his actions.
"Yea," he said again, "I suppose I do. I guess I just haven't gotten around to it."
"So," she said in a determined voice. "Are we through with the small talk, and can now get to whatever it is that got you perched in your spot?"
Jack laughed out loud. "You don't beat around the bush do you?" he said.
"Never have…and don't intend to start now," she replied as she continued to stare at him until he opened his mouth to speak.
"Neither," he finally replied.
"Neither?" she repeated as she gave him a questioningly look.
"I don't want to just sit, and I don't feel like talking. You already know. I just want to…listen." he said quietly.
"I have said it so many times before...how many more before it sinks in and you accept it?"
"That's an excellent question," he said as he tossed a rock into the water below, "Let me get back to you on that."
He then turned and stared into the face of the woman who, unbeknownst to anyone else, had become his confidante. The one person he had finally decided to let his guard down with; to welcome her into his world of struggle, doubt, and pain. He had come to care deeply for her, and it felt good to have someone like that in his life.
Jack had shocked himself the first time he had opened up to her. It just happened. He had been sitting in this very spot, the day after Claire had been taken. The young pregnant girl had been so sure…so convinced that she had been attacked. And Jack, for his part, had been just as convinced that it was all in her head. It didn't add up, but then again, he was finding out that very little on this Island actually made sense. But it didn't matter…It was his fault. He had promised to protect these people and he had failed. Jack remembered running through the jungle alone after Locke had left him, and he had divulged to her that while his body was physically pursing Ethan, his mind had been back in an operating room in Los Angeles, fervently working to save the life of a young woman while his father looked on with disdain from a darkened corner of the room.
Beth.
Her death had actually brought Jack what he had been waiting for his entire life. To finally hear his father's words of acknowledgement, and the pride he had in him for the man and doctor he had become.
"It was a long time coming," his father had said as he patted him on the shoulder as they stood in his office.
His hard work and all he had endured growing up had at long last paid off; but he had compromised doing what he knew was morally and ethically right. His dad had promised…he promised it would never happen again and Jack had believed him, or at the very least, convinced himself that he believed him. The young doctor had looked down at the report and, with pen in hand, put his signature at the bottom; corroborating the deceit and lies Christian Shephard had written to cover up the truth regarding the woman's death.
Later that day, he had watched his father in the hallway of the hospital consoling the grieving husband. Jack had simply been a loose end that Christian had successfully manipulated to cover up his mistake. Now he had switched roles from being the proud father, humbled by the error of his ways, to the contrite surgeon; ensuring the man that every possible measure to save his beloved wife had been done. Jack had witnessed the devastated man respond to his father's kind words and sympathetic gesture of placing his hand upon his shoulder in an, "I understand what you're going through," moment of bonding.
His dad was smooth…there was no doubt about it.
"He played me," Jack had thought bitterly, "Just another act of self-preservation he has become so adept at over the years. He was forced to give me what he knew I wanted so desperately…his approval."
Jack remembered sitting in Conference room of the hospital during the Administrative hearing. He had remained silent during the proceedings, his insides churning with every word his father spoke. The lies rolled so effortlessly off his father's tongue, and Jack had wanted nothing more than for it to be over; to get the hell out of there and put it behind him. And then…the final question. "Were you aware of the woman's pregnancy?" Jack was stunned and had immediately turned to face his father, looking for affirmation that he too and been uninformed of this fact. But no…his father had known. Without so much as a pause in his response, or any indication of guilt, regret, or feeling of accountability, he calmly gave his answer. The life of this woman and unborn child were the sacrifice Christian Shepard was willing to offer up in exchange to save the person he cared about most...himself. Unfortunately for his father, it was a sacrifice that Jack had decided HE was not willing to make.
He had shared this with her; all of it. Including the final confrontation with his father that would change things…forever. She had listened intently, and if his brutal honestly about the sordid details shocked or surprised her; it didn't show. If anything, her eyes showed the depths of her own compassion and understanding for what he had gone through…and what it had cost him.
"Jack," she had said, resting her hand on his forearm when he had finished. "Your father put you in an impossible situation. You did what had to be done. You did the right thing. The consequences of his actions were your father's to bear…not you."
"I'm glad you see it that way," he had said despondently. "Others, including my own mother, felt loyalties to my father and his reputation as Chief of Surgery should have superseded the life of some woman and her unborn baby. I couldn't…I just couldn't let him get away with that, and live with myself knowing that I allowed it to happen."
"What you did," she had stated adamantly, "Took an incredible amount of strength and courage. It's a testament to who you are Jack, and one of the many reason people look to you for leadership. You are not afraid to face adversity and are willing to make those difficult decisions; to do what's right…no matter what."
They sat upon the rock, in the same exact spots as the first time they spoke, and she turned to look at him. She realized how far she had come in understanding the man since they crashed here. To many, he appeared aloof, driven, and extremely stubborn. He was all of those things…but also so much more. Jack Shephard was one of the most genuine people she had ever met. He was intelligent, caring, devoted, and capable she believed, of total commitment to someone he loved. But he had been deeply hurt, and struggled with showing his true emotions.
"I know you are probably thinking about Shannon," she said in a tender voice, "And upset at the loss of another one of our people. Despite it being an accident, it doesn't make it any easier. You always put up a strong front for everyone, and keep them from losing hope. You're doing the best you can, and we never would have made it this far if it weren't for you. We have put our trust in you Jack…and that trust is not misplaced. "
"By saying before that I wanted to listen," he interjected, "I didn't mean to imply that I wanted you to tell me about what a great "leader" I supposedly am…or all the things I have done for everyone…or how I'm the "Hero of the day" as Sawyer often likes to throw in my face. I look to you for insight and to keep me grounded…to help me believe the words that are coming out of my mouth. Because sometimes…I don't. I just don't. And you probably already know this, but I'm really not very good at faking things like that."
It was a typical Jack Shephard answer. No bullshit…straight to the point.
"Fair enough," she said. "You are not a hero…you're too moody at times…you need to let other people help you...AND you need to stop being afraid to admit you are not "fine" all the time. It's annoying. Lastly," she replied with a no nonsense look. "There are things in life Jack, that are just beyond our control...beyond YOUR control. You have got to learn to accept that and move on. It doesn't do you any good to dwell on the past...and things you can't change." She paused momentarily, "Is that better? More along the lines of what you were looking for?"
"Yep…that's my girl," he said. "Both feet are once again firmly on the ground…Thanks."
"You're welcome," she replied with a grin, and then shivered suddenly as the cool wind that came off the ocean surrounded them and ran over her bare arms.
The action didn't go unnoticed by the observant doctor, and he reached behind him and pulled an item out of his back pack. He released the edges and let the breeze work in his favor unfolding the familiar blue airline blanket. As it flapped in the wind, he draped the fabric over the woman's shoulders.
She reached up with both hands, securing it in place, and flashed him a warm smile.
"Honey," she said gently "What is meant to be…will be. Sometimes things just happen. Good or bad…right or wrong, and there isn't an answer to explain why. We need to understand and be strong enough to accept that…and have a little faith."
The young doctor extended his right arm, and laid it across her shoulders and pulled her close.
"I know Rose," he said as his eyes turned back out to the sea, thinking despite everything they had been through, she never…never had even a moment of doubt that Bernard was still alive.
"I know," he repeated with more conviction this time.
"What you said the first week we were here Jack, about us living together or dying alone. That wasn't just a bunch of profound words you threw together that night to rein everyone in. It was…it IS the truth. And that is what we need to remember. Whatever the future holds for us here…we need each other."
"Bernard is a very lucky man," Jack said after a moment, "I hope he knows that."
"Of course he does sweetie…of course he does!" she said with a sparkle in her eyes. "Now, are you ready to head back? It's getting late, and they are gonna be missing us soon."
"Yes Mrs. Nadler," he said as he now stood in front of her, offering his hands and assisting her to her feet. "I'm ready."
He reached over and grabbed his pack, stuffing the blanket Rose had handed back to him into the main compartment, before slinging it over his right shoulder.
"Thank you Rose," he said in a sincere voice as he adjusted the pack on his back, "I've never really let anyone "in" before. You know...to share my feelings. That kind of thing wasn't exactly encouraged in my family; and old habits are hard to break. I want you to know that while I realize I have a long way to go, you have helped me more than you will ever know."
"Change is never easy Jack, but we have to keep moving forward and do the best we can with whatever life throws at us," she gave him an encouraging smile. "Sometimes, we have to be utterly and completely broken...before we can be fixed. But I want you to know that you are a good man, and I do have faith in you to overcome whatever obstacles may block your path."
Jack gave her an appreciative look and then turned around, leading the way back across the rocky ground towards their camp.
"Now we just need to get you and that cute little brunette together," she said under her breath.
Jack stopped suddenly and rotated around to look at her. "Did you say something?" he asked.
"Me?" she responded with an innocent look upon her face, "No honey, I didn't say a word. It must have been the wind."
Jack paused a moment and looked about before slowly nodding his head, and then turned and continued on. A wide grin spread across the older woman's face as she followed close behind him. Rose recognized true love when she saw it, and she wondered just how long it would take those two young people to finally figure out…they belonged together.