Jack stood outside the hospital gymnasium. His phone was already ringing. "Hello?"

"Did you speak to him?"

"Yeah," Jack said. "Yeah, it's fine. He's not going to say anything."

"Are you sure?"

"He's in an institution. Even if he did, who would believe him?"

"That's not the point, Jack. You all made an agreement. Or have you forgotten?"

"No, no I haven't forgotten. He won't say anything."

The dialtone sounded abruptly and Jack sighed, closing the phone and slipping it into the pocket of his jacket. He continued towards his car, not noticing the other man heading towards the hospital grounds until the man bumped into him.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"Sorry, mate."

Jack stopped, startled at the voice. He turned around. A young man with black hair grinned over his shoulder at Jack and winked, not pausing in his strides. Jack took out his sunglasses and pulled them on, chuckling to himself as he shook his head. "I must be losing it."

---

A few days after his visit with Hurley, Jack sat in his office, waiting for the next consultation. There was a brief knock at the door. Jack sat up a little straighter and cleared his throat before answering, "Come in."

The young man came in, shutting the door quietly before turning towards Jack. The doctor noted the man's apparent physical health as well as a strange familiarity about his presence. Jack stood and extended his hand. "I'm Dr. Shepard."

The man removed his sunglasses with one hand while shaking Jack's hand with the other. "I know who you are, Jack."

Jack's face paled. He felt his throat tighten. "I--you--you're...you're not..."

The man didn't let go of Jack's hand. "Don't get upset, Jack. That's how Hurley ended up in that loony bin."

Jack shook his head in disbelief. "But--but you're...Charlie, you're..."

"Dead," he said. "I know. Hurley and I have been through this. Did he mention he saw me?"

Jack shook his head and managed to wrench his hand from Charlie's grip. He eyed the phone and debated calling security.

"And tell them what? That your patient's a dead man who can touch them and communicate?" Charlie laughed at the idea.

Jack sat down slowly, then jumped up and began to pace. "How--how is this...how are you...you can't be here!"

"Yet here I am," said Charlie, sitting himself comfortably in the chair opposite Jack's desk. "Cozy office you've got here."

Jack folded his arms behind his head. "This can't be real."

"It is. And you know why I'm here."

Jack stopped pacing and stared out the window at the cityscape. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You've got to go back, Jack."

"There's no going back. That was the deal."

"The deal? You mean the one you made with--"

Jack spun and glared at Charlie. "You're not real!"

The chair where Charlie had been sitting was empty, as was the rest of Jack's office. He blinked rapidly and rubbed his eyes. This was too much.

---

Sayid Jarrah sat in the hotel watching the news with some interest.

A surprising turn of events out of California, where multimillionaire and survivor of Oceanic 815, Hugo Reyes, has landed in a mental insitution following a bizarre interrogation with police. Reyes had been under arrest for evading police following a high speed chase, the reason for which is still unknown. Police say Reyes actually requested to be institutionalized rather than answer their questions. More information as the story unfolds.

Sayid turned the television off. He swallowed the last of the gin and set the glass down on the table.

"You see why I'm here."

Sayid nodded, not looking at his guest.

"We at Oceanic Airlines want to ensure that all of you are looked after, cared for."

"I understand."

"Good."