Lost and its characters belong to JJ Abrams and crew. I'm just borrowing for some non-profit fun. Jack moves to steal from Sawyer and is busted red-handed by an unlikely look-out. Enjoy

Lost – Nine Tenths

By Mystic

July 20th 2005

It wasn't like Jack to steal. He'd spent his whole life with these rules hanging around his neck, put there at birth by two overbearing parents who meant well, but failed miserably. They told him not to lie, to slouch, to touch, to hurt, to roll his eyes, to steal… he needed a legal pad to keep track of them by the time he was eight.

Once he did. Scribbled them on a notepad and posted them behind his door where his parents didn't look. His door stayed open for a long time just so he wouldn't look at them. It was a reminder that he wasn't good enough. The fact that he needed to be reminded so often.

"Jack, make sure you behave," his mother would tell him before pulling his tie up against his neck tightly at one function after another. She'd always pout and shake her head just slightly as his father stared down at him. As if Jack had ever misbehaved.

He pushed the cushions off the suitcases underneath and opened the first zipper slowly, hearing it click over each link like a roller coaster just about to go over the edge. It made him start to sweat and feel stupid. He had the urge to put it all back and run, but he flipped open the lid and rummaged through the contents, finding hairbrushes, toothbrushes, razors and scissors. He frowned and pressed his lips together tightly before removing a brush and a pair of scissors.

"Doesn't anyone have anything sharp?" he'd asked on the second day on the island. It had taken him hours to locate a single shaving blade, probably too old fashioned for anyone to pay attention to.

Glancing around, he zipped the bag up and moved onto the second, finding clothes and he shook his head, going through them and removing a handkerchief, shoving it deep into his pocket before closing the hard case and moving onto the third. The third made him laugh before he looked away. It was full of books and magazines. He thumbed through a Danielle Steele novel.

"You shouldn't be doing that," Walt said loudly, walking up behind him.

Jack jumped up, dropping the book in the sand. He sighed with a sort of relief and smiled, looking away from the boy with his eyes shut. "Walt, it's not what it… it is what it looks… what are you doing here?" He asked curiously.

Shrugging, Walt kicked at the sand and pointed at the book. "Didn't think you wanted girly books," he pointed a finger at the novel lying open in the sand.

Picking up the book, Jack brushed it off and tossed it back into the suitcase, closing the zipper and pulling the cushions back atop it. Walt went around and helped, arranging the three cushions on the suitcases the way Sawyer kept them. Jack stood and looked down at the boy who stared up at him with squinted eyes. "I didn't come for the books."

"Then what'd you come for?" Walt asked.

Jack showed the boy the scissors and the grey brush.

Walt nodded. "So why were you going through the others? Sawyer keeps the useful stuff in the first one."

Laughing, Jack planted a hand on his waist. "And how do you know that?"

"He told me so." Walt tugged on a thread hanging off the middle blue cushion.

"Why would he tell you that?"

"Don't know. He just did." Walt spat, staring off at the ocean. "What do you need a hair brush for anyways?" He looked up at Jack's buzz cut.

"For a friend," he responded with a smile. "Scissors are for medical purposes."

"Got that," Walt told him with a roll of his eyes.

Jack stepped out of the tent and began walking back towards the caves, Walt followed. "Shouldn't you be with your dad?"

Walt shrugged his shoulders. "Not like he notices when I'm gone. He's probably at the caves anyways."

"Ok," Jack nodded, listening to Walt's footsteps against the foliage. They crunched occasionally, snapping a twig or kicking a rock. "So, what were you down at the beach for?"

"Who's the brush for?" Walt responded, staring up at him when he turned.

"Claire." He smiled. "She's been looking for one for weeks."

Walt nodded. "Ok, because I was going to tell you Kate bartered him for one a while back."

"Oh yeah," Jack turned again. "What'd she give him?"

"Food, I think. Fruit. You know how she likes climbing up in trees."

Nodding, Jack shook his head.

"Why didn't you just ask him?"

"What? Ask Sawyer?" Jack laughed.

Walt raised his eyebrows. "Why not? Other people have asked him for stuff."

"Yeah, they ask for their own asthma inhalers back and he beats them up." Jack stopped and turned. "Why are you defending him?"

"I'm not," Walt shook his head. "I just think stealing's wrong." He shrugged his shoulders and walked past him, towards the cave entrance where Michael was shouting his name. "Didn't think you were that type."

Jack raised a hand, wanting to explain, but saw the boy had already started hollering back at his father that he'd just gone down to the beach for a walk. He let his head fall back and brought it back quickly as a warm hand touched his wrist. He smiled, handing Claire the brush. "Found one."

"Where'd you get it!" Claire exclaimed, staring up at him with bright eyes.

Shaking his head, Jack bit his bottom lip. "Some suitcases you didn't check, I guess," he didn't lie. He watched her walk away, bringing the thick bristled brush through her tangled hair.

Finis