A/N: In 2006 I've read a story in a livejournal by gottalovev. A lovely humorous Jack/Sawyer story. I must warn you that it is slash, though, so don't blame her if you go there.
The story is here: http: // gottalovev . livejournal . com / 38981 . html (take away the spaces)
I loved the idea and somehow I started to write my own story. I don't write slash, so the only thing I took from her was the changing of Jack.
The change.Summary: Looking back Jack couldn't remember anything that might have prepared him. No warnings to heed, no symptoms to recognize…
**1**
Jack didn't do anything differently that morning - woke up in his tent, washed, had breakfast, quarrelled with Sawyer; took care of people's hurts and ills, quarrelled with Sawyer; spoke to Sayid, looked at Aaron, quarrelled with Sawyer; spoke to Kate, quarrelled with… No, by that time Sawyer had already left to cut wood. Jack left too, with Kate, to get fruit. But it didn't mean anything, he was just helping. And Charley was with them too. Nothing different, a typical morning. It couldn't be that fleeting thought…
…or could it?
Jack had to see a patient, so he took the filled bag with him and left Kate and Charley to gather more fruit. He was hot, impatient to get to the beach, jump into the ocean, cool off a little. The air was heavy and close, full of smells and scents of the jungle, but he didn't expect the rain.
The sun seemed to get hotter and hotter with every passing moment and by now Jack was longing for the rain. After drinking all his water he almost turned to the caves, but changed his mind – the beach was closer.
Something moved under the bush, and Jack turned expecting a snake but it was a small frog. It jumped and was lost to the eyes, and for the moment he almost envied it its careless life in the cool grass. The wind touched his hot face and he forgot the frog.
The dizziness was brief; still Jack stumbled, paused, and shook his head. The sun, he thought, better hurry to the beach and drink.
A few steps and Jack was stumbling again; and then something fell on him driving him into the ground. His last thought was – the storm, and he wondered that he didn't hear its approach.
When Jack came to, he found himself under some great weight but he was lying in a hollow that kept him from being squashed. The earth was hard and large sticks were poking him and scratching his bare skin. Wait. Bare skin? He has been fully clothed, and what was lying on him? It felt like cloth… but like no cloth he had ever touched. It was very thick and stiff; Jack couldn't move it at all. Still there was a narrow gap letting in some light, and he tried to check himself. With difficulty he brought his hands before him and couldn't believe his eyes.
The hands were not human.
The fingers were very long and lumpy, the forearms were too thin, the very skin looked wrong. Jack was afraid to move but he had to, he had to make sure. And so he brought his hands up and touched his face.
