"So what do we do now?" Sun asked, still staring at their smoke signal, slowly rising. Sayid sighed.

"I do not know. I only hope that our friends are not walking into an ambush."

Jin walked up, gesturing frantically, and pointing toward the island. Sun shook her head, and muttered something back at him. Sayid just shook his head. He didn't really know what to do, or what to think. He was certain that he had found the Others camp, the one that Michael had been talking about. However, it was equally clear that their plan was now an impossibility.

"We go back," he announced. "There is nothing more we can do here."

Jin shook his head angrily, and pulled himself out of Sun's grasp. "Michael," he said insistently, pointing toward the island. "Sawyer. Jack. Kate. Others."

"I know," Sayid said patiently. "But we have no idea where they could be. We should return to the beach, to see if they require our assistance."

Jin was clearly unhappy with the decision, but when Sun repeated Sayid's words he seemed to recognize the wisdom of the decision. He headed over to the wheel of the ship, and began shifting to tack into the wind. Sun and Sayid had to duck under the boom as it swung back toward them.

"The others," Sun said softly. "Do you think they are all right?"

Sayid sighed. "I do not know. I wish I did, but. . .there is nothing we can do."

"Oh my God," Claire gasped, one hand flying up to her mouth as she stared. Nothing remained of the hatch, just some fragmented doors and fluttering book pages. Charlie stared for a moment, then lurched to the side of their self-forged path and vomited into the weeds. When he'd shakily stood again and wiped the bile off his chin, he turned around. Claire was still standing in the same position.

"Charlie. . ." she whispered. "How did you get out?"

He shook his head. "I don't know, I don't. . .come on, let's go back."

"No," she shook her head stubbornly. "I know it seems impossible, but maybe. . ." she looked up at Charlie, tears standing out in her eyes. "You survived, Charlie, maybe one of them did, too."

Charlie froze. He could see it all again. . .the metal pulling back, the zipper in his own pants pressing him to the wall. . .ducking as forks, spoons, and knives came careening toward him, diving out of the way of a filing cabinet. . .Eko leaving, heading back in, and his torturous struggle toward the door. . .then Locke and Eko appearing again, yelling at him to run. . .the couch with the iron bolts hurtling toward him. . .and then nothing but pain and blackness and. . .

A hand, held gently on his cheek. He opened his eyes, and found himself staring into Claire's beautiful blue ones. She rubbed a thumb over his cheek.

"Are you okay?" she asked. He shuddered a little.

"I can't go back in there," Charlie said, still shaking. He sat up, shrugging off her gentle hands, and covered his face with his own. "I'm a bloody coward. . ."

"Charlie. . ." Claire sighed, and pushed his hands out of his face. She smiled at him, and his heart lifted a little at the light in her face. "You're not a coward. You went through something horrible."

"Yeah, well, so did you," he said. It was cruel, and her face shut off. She'd been getting over her ordeal with Ethan. . .recovering from frantic worry over Aaron, and he'd brought it all back. He was a sodding idiot. . .he couldn't ever just let a good thing be. He continued, in a softer voice, "you got through. You're stronger than me, Claire."

"Charlie," she took his two hands in her own. "Where's the heroin?"

This was it then, he thought. All this time and she didn't trust him. "Gone," he said, refusing to meet her eyes. "I threw it in the ocean."

She smiled, stood up, and extended a hand to help him. "See?" she said brightly. "Not a coward after all. Come on, let's go back to the beach."

"But what about. . ." he motioned toward the hatch. Claire just grinned again.

"Oh, I'll be coming back," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "We can't just leave them here. But I won't force you to come with me."

Charlie wanted to go in there with her right there and then, to finally play the role of the hero, but he knew he couldn't. Regardless of what Claire told him, there was one definite truth. He was still weak.

Jack stared into the void. There was no light to prove that the world still existed. The stars were masked by clouds high in the sky, and the torches had all been put out. For the first time in his life, he was completely and utterly alone. No alcoholic father, no nagging mother, no desperate wife. No babies to watch for, or rashes to care for, no Charlie, no Sawyer, no Kate.

He willed himself not to cry. He clenched his jaw tightly, and took long, slow breaths. But he could still feel the panic building, the tears gathering behind closed eyelids.

One.

It was all his fault. He couldn't let himself forget that. He'd been so damn arrogant, thinking that somehow he could outsmart the Others. Hadn't they proved, time and time again, that they were smarter than him or the rest of the survivors? Yet he'd been so blindly proud. . .

Two.

And now others were suffer. Not just him and Sawyer, but the others back at the beach. What would they do without a doctor? Who would deliver Sun's baby? What if there were complications?

Three.

Maybe it didn't matter. He was a failure anyway. How had he helped on the island? Boone had died. . .he'd been helpless. The internal injuries had been too much. He'd been so tired. . .he'd misdiagnosed. And the boy had died.

Four.

Shannon was dead before he'd even gotten the chance to see her. But he was still guilty. She'd been telling people about seeing Walt, insisting that there were voices in the jungle. He'd ignored her, along with everyone else. But poor, beautiful Shannon. . .she'd only been telling the truth. She'd been trying to do what she thought was right, and she'd died for it.

Five.

Joanne. Steve. Boone. Shannon. Ana. Libby. Their names ran through his head. Gone. He took a deep breath. Nobody else would die. Not for him. He raised his head, and the tears were gone.

Counting worked every time. The fear was gone, the self-pity. All that was left was a resolution to escape, and to warn the others. If only he could figure out some way to do that. . .

"Psst."

His head jerked up, his eyes widened. There was somebody out there. A moment later green eyes appeared close in front of his. Jack blinked.

"Kate?"

"Shhh," the eyes darted to the side. "I've been following you guys for the past two days, trying to get a chance to get in here." The eyes disappeared for a moment. Jack felt fingers playing with the rope around his hands.

"Don't," he whispered. "It's too dangerous."

And then the rope was gone, and the eyes were back. "Don't be stupid, Jack," she said. "I'm not going to just leave you. Where's Sawyer?"

He sighed and shook his head. "I don't know," he said honestly. "They've kept us split up ever since taking us. I haven't even seen him since you escaped."

"I'm going to find him," she said. Jack reached out and grabbed her arm.

"No," he said firmly. "We can't risk them taking you, too."

She sighed. Jack forced himself to hold her gaze. He was right, and they both knew it. A moment later she ducked under his arm, and helped him to his feet. He bit back a cry as he attempted to put weight on his wounded leg.

"Are you okay?" Kate asked worriedly.

"I'll be fine," Jack said. If Sawyer could pull out a bullet with his own fingers, get an infection, and still hike halfway across the island, he should be able to manage fine after a complete surgery and stitches.

Hiking away from the camp seemed to take forever. A dull fire kept building up in his leg, and it took everything he had not to groan. But Kate was merciless, refusing to let him rest until she personally felt they were safely away.

"Stay here," she ordered him, after depositing him on the ground. Jack chuckled a little at that. As if he had the option. He couldn't have followed her if he tried. She disappeared back into the jungle. Probably gone to cover our tracks, he thought with a weary sigh, allowing his head to fall back against a tree.

Or. . .he suddenly jerked back up as a horrified thought crossed his mind. She'd headed back to the camp to try and rescue Sawyer.

Kate meant just to cover their tracks. She didn't intend to head back to the camp; it was a ridiculous hour. There was no light to see by, and it was possible that the Others had noticed Jack's absence. They wouldn't be likely to leave their last remaining prisoner unguarded.

But somehow she found herself going just a little bit closer than she'd meant to, and then a moment later she was carefully glancing into hastily erected tents, looking for the telltale hint of color with his shirt, or the gleam from his hair.

Her mind kept telling her to return to her Jack, but her heart was screaming to find Sawyer.

Suddenly a pair of hands clapped over her mouth. Kate bit back the reflective scream. For once, she couldn't call for help.

"Get back to the doctor," a voice, the girl, hissed. Kate stiffened. She knew the girl meant to help. And maybe she could. A moment later the hands disappeared, and the girl stepped back to allow Kate to leave. Instead, she turned around.

"Where is he?" she asked. The girl shook her head.

"Kate, you can't," she insisted. "If you take him, they'll come after all three of you again. You won't have a chance of getting back."

Kate shook her head stubbornly. "I'm not going to leave without him," she insisted. The girl sighed, held a finger to her lips, and then gestured for Kate to follow her. The girls moved quietly through the camp, directly to a tent on the opposite end from where Jack had been held. Kate moved to duck in, but the girl shook her head, and put a hand on her shoulder. Confused, Kate looked up and saw him.

She drew in breath sharply. Memories came flooding back. He was kneeling at the edge of the jungle, head fallen forward, eyes closed. His hands were tied behind him, around the trunk of a tree. She fell to her knees beside him, and a trembling hand went up to push hair out of his face. He jerked up with a gasp, eyes trying desperately to focus on her.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he rasped. Kate frowned, and then forced a smile onto her face, confused. Those were about the last words she'd expected to hear form him.

"I'm here to rescue you," she said softly.

"I don't need no damn rescue," he said. He looked away from her. Kate peered at him more closely, and then reached up again, and forced him to look into her eyes.

"Sawyer. . ." she said softly. He glared at her, hate clear in his eyes.

"Go on back to your doctor, Freckles," he said. "I'm staying here."

"You have to go," the girl whispered. "Please. Go now, before they wake up."

"Hurry on home," Sawyer growled. Kate shook her head. Why didn't he want to go with her? What had the Others done to him? Her eyes raked over the bruises on his head, the still-bleeding cut across one cheekbone, the cracked lip. From behind her she heard a low cough, and she straightened immediately.

"I'll come back for you," she promised.

"Don't."

There was a rustle of garments from behind her, and she jumped up and ran into the jungle. Her heart thudded hard within her chest. She'd get Jack back to the beach, and then she would come back and find him. She didn't know why Sawyer wouldn't want to come back with her, but she'd find out the reason, and then she'd convince him.