Disclaimer: Lost isn't mine. Alas!


If anything goes wrong, Desmond Hume will be my constant.

Jack felt his hands trembling as he read the page, over and over and over. Ten words, ten stupid words were the only sign required to show him that something had gone horribly wrong.

He remembered Desmond Hume- running up and down the stairs at the stadium in training, staring longingly at the letter from Penny, half-crazed after being isolated in the hatch for so long. He remembered Daniel Faraday as well. Spacey. Neurotic. Lying in a pool of his own blood, shot to death by his mother.

It was therein that the problem lied.

Jack Shephard should not remember Desmond or Daniel. He should not have been holding this damned journal, reminiscing on how Sayid followed the directions to disassemble the Jughead bomb. These people, these events were supposed to be gone from his memory, permanently erased like the crashed hard drive of his first computer after it was hit by a virus.

Though remembering the past three years was unexpected, he shouldn't have been incredibly bothered by it. In fact, Jack considered it a personal triumph that he had succeeded in bringing them back to the day of the crash. His ultimate goal- to prevent the crash of 815 and move on with his life- was now feasible. Those who had died now had a chance to live He should be celebrating with a nice bottle of scotch, his feet kicked up on his coffee table.

But he couldn't.

And that was because of Kate.

Before Jack could think any more, he felt the taxi he rode in stop, the engine idling. Outside the window, he could see the flow of people into and out of Sydney airport, dragging their suitcases and screaming children behind them.

"That'll be forty-six dollars," the driver said over his shoulder.

"Sure. Just give me a minute."

What had been Kate's words, when he first suggested they detonate the bomb and eliminate the past three years?

It wasn't all misery.

For Jack it had been, every damn moment of it, and he'd insisted that for her it had been the same way. Tried to convince her, to the point that she actually agreed helped with this crazy Jughead scheme.

Was he not thinking clearly? Did he misinterpret Daniel's words? 'Cause he was damn sure that the scientist had said when they arrived in 2004, there would be no memory of anything that occurred. They would know only that they were boarding their flight to return to LA. Jack had promised Kate everything would be forgotten.

Jack had nothing to lose from remembering the island. Though it would be a dark spot, something repressed into the back of his mind, he would move on. But Kate… Kate had been on her way to jail that day. The island had allowed her to escape a certain sentence of life in prison.

Forgetting the crash would make it easy… with no memory of the island, there would be no loss of freedom. But if she, too, remembered every event of the past three years…

If the plane didn't crash (and in Jack's gut, he knew the plane wouldn't crash), Kate would go to prison hating him. He was the one who talked her into participating. He convinced her that staying in the 1970's was wrong. She had been safe there, and could have made a true life for herself. Jack had taken that away. She would never forgive him.

Jack couldn't live with that.

"You're gonna miss your plane, friend," the cabbie said.

Though he felt numb, Jack pushed his feelings aside, stepped out of the idling taxi, and paid the driver with the money that he knew was in his wallet. Mechanically he walked to the hearse, parked in front of the taxi, feeling as if he was programmed to perform these actions. Everything was just as it had been three years ago.

The hearse driver was waiting, the back door open and his father's coffin visible. "Do you want me to bring this inside, Mr. Shephard?" the pudgy, middle-aged man asked.

"Yeah, if you would," Jack said softly, gazing at the dark maple box. Images of it lying open in the jungle devoid of the corpse it now carried flashed through his mind. He saw his father appearing in the jungle, leading him over the cliff, and Locke pulling him back up. It had been one of the first days on the island.

A thought hit him. What would happen if he recreated precisely his actions from the day of the crash? Would the plane just go down again?

Jack felt a sudden desperation. He had to change his actions- it was the only way to prevent the crash. If everything occurred as it had before, then Desmond would forget to press the button. There would be no arrival in LA. Everyone would be trapped on the island again, caught in a cycle. An eternal time loop.

"Oh shit," Jack uttered, hoping he would get the hearse driver's attention.

The man turned to face him, midway through pulling the coffin out of the car. "What's the matter, son?"

"I was just thinking… do you need to make special arrangements to fly out a coffin?" Jack already knew the answer. He'd practically gotten down on his knees and begged the airline staff to let him bring his father back home the first time he'd experienced this day.

The funeral home man frowned. "You didn't know that? Well… I guess that's not a question many people think about. How often is it that you have to transport a dead loved one from one country to another?" He was speaking more to himself than Jack, but he didn't feel bothered by that. "The airline needs to know in advanced, son. There's no way you'll be able to bring your father home today. I'm sorry."

Jack nodded, attempting to look distant. This was the change they needed, the change to ensure the plane didn't crash. Without Christian's coffin, they couldn't replicate the original flight. He was taking fate into his own hands.

And throwing Kate under the bus in the same action.

Damnit, why can't we both win? Why can't I save her, save us, and prevent the crash. Once again, just as on the island, he was driven with the need to save.

"Can you bring him back to the funeral home? At least until I can make the arrangements? I can pay."

The man clasped his shoulder. "Absolutely. You've had a rough couple of days. No one expects to lose their dad so suddenly. Go, grab a drink, make your flight, and tell your family what happened. They love you. They need you right now, especially you're mum."

Jack sighed. "Thank you."

Shaking hands with the hearse driver, and promising to call the funeral home as soon as arrangements had been made, he retrieved his suitcase and headed toward the airport.

As he stepped into the shady area near the doors, he heard a police siren behind him. Jack stopped dead. Kate.

The police car stopped at the curb, sirens silenced as an officer stepped out. Please God, let me be the only one who remembers, Jack thought. Don't let her remember. Don't put her through that pain.

As the back door slid open, the officer blocked his view into the car. A moment later he stepped away, followed by a handcuffed Sawyer. His head was hanging low, hair in front of his eyes. He looked defeated. Jack felt disappointment surge through him that it wasn't Kate he saw.

Still, he crept toward the airport doors, directly into the path of the officer. Jack wanted Sawyer to see him. He had to know if he was the only one who remembered. Once he had that information, he could begin to formulate a plan to help Kate.

Sawyer looked up at the airport door, a scowl on his face. "Let me get this for you, man," Jack said to the police officer, holding the door open for him.

"Thank you."

Sawyer didn't react at all. No glance, no smirk. Nothing. As if he didn't recognize him

As if they never met…

He was the only one with memory of the island! The only one who would have to bear the burden. Jack felt a huge amount of relief flow through him. Sawyer and Juliet would never know the love they lost. Kate wouldn't sit in a jail cell, knowing that she could have had freedom. Sayid would never lose both of his loves.

Jack could live with this.

As he made his way to the departure gate, he felt a weight lifted off his chest. Flight 815 was going to land in LA as expected. Within the week, his father's body would arrive for the funeral. Life would go on just as planned.

"Watch where you're going!" a gruff voice shouted as he ran over a foot with his suitcase. The man was lounging in a chair, his legs far into the corridor where the crowds were rushing by.

"Sorry," Jack said with a shrug. Looking at the man's face, he saw the marshal, healthy and well. No shrapnel in his chest, no infection spreading. He did not appear a man to be trifled with, now that he was in prime form.

And next to him, sinking deeper and deeper into her seat, sat Kate. Jack stared at her, handcuffs hidden under a denim jacket, brown hair pulled out of her face. Her eyes stared up at him, penetrating. Her lips curled into a frown, and her face turned from apathetic and resigned to full of hatred and contempt.

She whispered one word under her breath, so soft that the marshal could not hear.

"Jack."

With one simple word, everything changed. She remembered. He remembered. Sawyer probably remembered and didn't recognize him immediately, it dawned on Jack, because he was mourning Juliet.

The plan had gone entirely wrong.

And this time Jack didn't know how to fix it.

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Jack has always been a tough character for me to write, and in this chapter and in his situation, I feel like he really had the most conflicted emotions to deal with. I hope this chapter makes some sort of cohesive sense!

Thanks to all of you who continue to read, and especially to those who took the time to review: eyeon, DiorNicole, Jennay, Valhalla, eternallove-17, Golden-Black Dragon, and ILoveNeil. I greatly appreciate the time you take out of your day to leave a message. it means a lot!

Next chapter: Charlie and Claire. It should be interesting!