Title: Questions
Rating: PG
Summary: Jack reflects on what it is that keeps stopping he and Kate from getting closer.
Characters: Jack POV (Jack/Kate)
Spoilers: The Hunting Party and before that.
Disclaimer: not mine, blah blah, never were, blah blah, no money made whatsoever! Blah blah blah!
Author's Note: I absolutely love Jack Johnson and I've been dying to make a song fic of his song Questions off the Curious George soundtrack. When I heard this song I swear to god I thought Jack and Kate. The story itself isn't quite what I was going for but I think it will do for now. I highly recommend that you hear the song while reading, cause it really sets the mood. Anyways, enjoy! And remember – reviews are what keep me going! :P
Questions, I've got some questions
I want to know you
It was always about questions with them. Questions asked, questions not asked. The spoken and the unspoken. The things Jack believed he needed to know to trust her. The things that he told himself he didn't need to hear. The things Kate didn't want him to know because she knew that if he did, he could never trust her.
And there was always that one big question lingering over them like island rain.
But what if I could ask you only one thing
Only this one time, what would you tell me?
Jack watched Kate out of the corner of his eye as she tried to walk with him. Tried to get his attention. Tried to beg for forgiveness that she thought was coming. The forgiveness that Jack was so willing to give. But this time he didn't want to. He would not, could not, look at her or he would crumble.
He was furious. Livid even. But deeper than that, he was terrified. Seeing that sack over her head. That gun to her throat. The look in her eye when they had thrown her to Sawyer. Terror, yes. There was real fear there, but not what Jack had been expecting. Not fear for herself. That instant, fleeting look at him, to judge just how mad he was at her being there. Always testing the waters with him, she was. Always pushing him just that little bit further, to see how far he would bend.
That is why he could not understand her. Could not figure out how to know her better.
Well maybe you could give me a suggestion
So I could know you, what would you tell me?
Maybe you could tell me what to ask you
Because then I'd know you, what would you tell me
Jack still felt the pang of guilt in his heart from just a few days before. When he had forced her to tell him about the toy plane. About the man she loved. The man she killed. Why did he feel so bad for pushing her for an answer he knew he deserved? Was that the only answer she would allow him? Did he fear that she would push him out now? That if he forgave her this she would be happy with that forgiveness and conscience clear push him away?
Please tell me that there's time
To make this work for all intents and purposes
And what are your intentions, will you try
Impressions, you've made impressions
They're going nowhere
They're just going to wait here if you let them
Please don't let them
Sometimes that was the only thing he could make of Kate. She would push and push til he cracked, and then she would not relent until she had been forgiven. As though all the forgiveness for her small actions towards him could amount to enough to forgive her for some horror in her past.
Her past. God, sometimes he wished that he could just shake it out of her. He wanted for her to spill it all. And other times he wished he had never even cared. That it really did mean nothing. The mugshot, the marshal – all of it. Nothing. A clear slate, like he said. Tabula Rasa.
I want to know you
And if they're going to haunt me
Please collect them
Please just collect them
At night he often wondered about what things between them would have been like if they were both more open. Jack was no martyr. He knew that he was half the problem. He had his issues, his past. He was overprotective of her, even when he knew she hated it. But he wished that it wasn't always him that made the move forward. Every step forward was like a led weight and it was always his doing. Kate would flirt and play about but the only time she instigated anything was an argument or to beg for forgiveness.
I'm begging you to ask me just one question
One simple question
Because then you'd know me
I'll tell you that there's time
To make this work for all intents and purposes
At least for my own
As they walked along, he with his back rigid, his shoulder turned from her, they continued their push pull game. Only this time it was Jack pushing. If Kate was going to play him, play his emotions, he would close himself from them. He would take charge and not allow himself to be played.
He wanted nothing more than to grab her right there in the jungle and hold her so tightly. He wanted to make sure she was alright. The doctor inside him was screaming to be let loose. All he wanted was to be the one to comfort her, to make that step forward again.
But he had to be strong. He had to stay fast. It was for her own good. She needed to need. She needed to rely on others. She needed to open herself. And most importantly, Kate needed to realise that she needed Jack for more than forgiveness.
He only hoped that she realised it before it was too late.
What is a heart worth if it's just left all alone?
Leave it long enough and watch it turn into stone
Why must we always be untrue?