Hey lovelies! Sorry it's taken so long to update--to make up for it I made it sort of longer than usual. The next chapter will be up much sooner than the last. Please review! I'm not sure what I think about this chappy...lemme know!
After his release from the Others and his subsequent trek back to camp, Jack wasn't sure what to expect upon his return. Unsure of how much time had elapsed since his capture, he was hesitant to make assumptions regarding the changes that might have occurred in his absence. As he trudged along the sand towards the outline of fires in the morning's spotty light, he let his thoughts rise above his heavy breathing and drift to Kate.
He wondered if she would be there, sinking into the shoreline as her curls blew restlessly behind her. Maybe she hadn't made it back yet; maybe she would make it back to camp soon after him, appearing at the edge of the tree line minutes after he'd passed the first tent. Then, he feared the worst: that she wouldn't be there at all, that she wouldn't return—that he'd lost another opportunity in his volatile relationship with her, never having broached the subject of their feelings for each other, or her possible feelings for another. He thought of Sawyer, if he was alive. What his death would do to her.
He shook away the thoughts as he neared camp. His breathing was heavy and his eyes were sore from strain. His legs ached and his chest felt heavy. With another stretch, he had entered the imaginary boundary into camp. Though it was early, he could make out a few faint murmurs muffled by tents and the breeze, carrying the words away. Now that he was here, he was unsure what to do next. Call out for anyone? I'm back, he thought of yelling. Instead, he made his way over to the water trough, scooped a handful to his lips and drank greedily, feeling the cool liquid slide down this throat.
Jack bolted up from his position on the couch. He blinked away the remnants of sleep, ran a hand over his stubbly chin. What had woken him? He heard a bump in the kitchen. Turning his head at the sound, he waited for another. There. He got up quietly, feeling around the floor for his jeans. He drew them up his legs haphazardly, zipping them but leaving them otherwise unbuttoned. He tiptoed to the doorway before peering in.
Kate sat at the counter, swirling a spoon around a half empty bowl of cereal. Jack shut his eyes and released the breath he had been holding.
"Jesus, you scared me."
Kate jumped in her seat. Jack smirked.
"Sorry." He said, taking the stool opposite her. She smiled at him tightly before returning her gaze to the pit of her cereal bowl, and he could make out the familiar crease between her eyebrows: the telltale sign she was in deep thought.
"Couldn't sleep?" he asked. She looked up at him again, eyes a little less guarded, then let the spoon drop into the bowl, shaking her head.
"No." she said. "Sorry I woke you up."
He brushed the comment aside. "It's okay, I wasn't really sleeping anyway."
"Liar."
"I wasn't—I had—have a lot on my mind."
"Yeah, thanks to me."
"Stop. Who cares about sleeping anyway, this is the first time I've seen you in what—I don't even know. Forever."
As soon as the words flew from his mouth, he remembered the ease in which they used to banter. He regretted the exchange instantly. This wasn't the time for flirting. He was mad at her. She was on the run. She'd abandoned him. She'd crashed his apartment. But, he had to admit, he was glad she did.
There was a long silence. He unabashedly watched her while she watched the contents of her cereal bowl.
"I see you found everything okay." He smirked, gesturing to the cereal bowl. She looked surprised that he'd broken the silence, but smiled.
"Yeah, I was lucky I found anything. I knew you were anal, but I didn't think that meant cheap, too." She jabbed.
"Hey, it's not like I have a lot of time for grocery shopping."
"Right, you spend most of it interior decorating." Her smile was teasing, and for a moment he let himself wash in the moment, how easily they flew back to being the people they were on the island. She caught the nostalgia in his eyes and recovered, dipping her head back to her cereal bowl.
She moved to put the bowl in the sink, but he was up from his stool in an instant, ushering it from her hands.
"I got it." He mumbled, rinsing the bowl out and setting it in the sink. She smiled, said a quiet thanks and stood where she was, unsure of what move to make next.
When Jack had returned, it was quieter than he expected. Not that he was complaining, but the peace that accompanied his return was unnerving compared to the constant hustle he had been in before the capture. He found himself sleeping later, attempting to shave less, and stepping into the leadership role as little as possible. He thought he was flying below the radar, but if one person noticed the change in roles more than he did, it was Kate.
Since his return, she'd been attached to his side. Never mind the tearful bear hug she'd given him when she'd seen him sipping water at the trough the morning of his return. He'd turned around, when a shocked Kate had been standing there, eyes awash with confusion, joy, and disbelief. She had mumbled a faint "Jack" before she had latched her arms around his neck. Her tears had wet the neck of shirt and he was still breathing heavy, but he didn't mind. He had held her close, stroked her hair absently and thanked the God he didn't believe existed that she was in his arms, and even more so, that she was alive.
It hadn't been an easy adjustment—settling back to the way things were before the Others. Though it had only been five weeks, the changes that had transformed their miniature civilization confounded him. Different shelter structures, food and water systems, new couples, and another pregnancy. At the same time, Jack was surprised that some things on the island hadn't changed at all. Kate still climbed the highest trees and refused to let Jack treat her scrapes. Locke hadn't changed—he'd only become more mystifying and independent, though Jack had thought it had impossible.
Though the differences in island life weren't drastic, Jack felt lost in the sweep of readjustment. His role as a leader seemed unfitting now that it'd been compromised. He had been dead and had come back to life, and though it had been miraculous, some of the others looked at him differently, like they had questions they wanted to ask but weren't sure how to go about asking them.
Jack wasn't sure if he was the right person to lead these people anymore. When it came time to make decisions, he'd find himself floundering, and when pressure built he found that he couldn't rise to the occasion as easily as he had before his capture. Insecurity was something he was used to suppressing, but with the fate of forty something castaways under his direction, the block of weakness he felt was an obstacle he was finding impossible to overcome.
Despite his trouble finding his place with the others in camp, he and Kate had grown closer than ever before. Before they were captured, they'd danced around each other, afraid to make assumptions or make a move, but the games they had played before seemed trivial now that they'd both experienced the same loss. Loss of time. Loss of memory.
As Jack and Kate turned to each other to rebuild after their stay with the Others, it seemed Sawyer enjoyed his solitude. The snappy remarks and witty retorts had only decreased slightly, and instead of haggling Kate so often, he'd been spending more time in the jungle, chopping wood or hunting with Locke.
Kate had expressed her worry to Jack once, but he'd shrugged it off—saying that Sawyer had to deal with the same trauma in his own way. Jack had convinced himself that it wasn't jealousy over Kate's concern that allowed him to proffer this advice, but he knew a margin of it was. He felt so close to her now that the idea of losing her to another man, instead of a force, was a blow he didn't want to stomach.
Still, their relationship grew without words or pushes, both content to enjoy each other's company. Kate showed him the best trails to find fruit and Jack let himself have fun, flirt. He'd help her over a rock by taking her hand and guiding her by the small of her back, trying not to notice the feeling of her skin between the hem of her t-shirt and the top of her jeans. She tried to teach him to climb a tree once, but after embarrassing himself with his awkwardness, he said he'd catch the mangoes she'd throw down to him, as long as she promised not to get too high up. At night they'd eat together by the fire and during the day they'd take swims farther down shore. He'd blush and turn away when she would push her jeans down her legs, while she pretended not to notice when he stripped down to his boxers. They were playful and sincere, kind and affectionate.
Kate had helped him find his way back amongst the others at camp—encouraging him to relinquish some control, releasing some of his former duties to Locke, Sayid, and Sun. She was patient when he was short with her, but fiery when he condescended. He tried to advise her without being commanding, and every time a situation arose when he found himself beginning to order her around, a flash in her green eyes told him all he needed to know.
Other castaways knew the signs that their relationship was evolving, but stayed quiet. Except for Sawyer, who was happy to make snide remarks about getting caught in nets, invite-only golf matches, and supposed skinny dipping ventures in his find of a waterfall. Though they blushed and mumbled awkwardly at Sawyer's comments, Jack and Kate knew that whatever was going on between them was building towards something actual, something they had been close to encroaching upon before their capture, but the idea then was not nearly as feasible as it was now.
Jack knew that their exchanges would amount to something soon, but he found himself fighting it. He knew he had feelings for Kate, but the moment he indulged in them he was reminded of their circumstances—less than ideal for romance. Whatever had been holding him back pre-capture had reared its ugly head again and made him second guess every flirty exchange they shared. He had been content for weeks just getting to know the little things about Kate. Her favorite color: purple. The first car she drove: not a car, but a motorcycle, surprise surprise.
Every time he thought a moment was arising that would provide the perfect opportunity for him to make his move, he convinced himself that she didn't feel the same way. For some reason, Jack resented Kate and Sawyer on some level for their release from the Others. Maybe it wasn't resentment, but it was certainly the feeling of the situation being unfair altogether. He knew he was misplacing his frustration: the idea of being totally helpless at the hands of his captors, even submissive enough that he had no memory of the ordeal, was what he was really angry about.
Whatever was troubling him—being unable to make the first move with Kate or his unresolved time with the Others—he couldn't find his way out of it. So he found himself taking out his aggression on blocks of wood out in the chopping clearing. Sawyer had certainly taken to the job, and Jack got a little smirk of satisfaction taking over for a day. He was letting the heave of the ax replace his nagging thoughts, when a distinct Southern drawl lazed into the clearing.
"What's up, doc?" Sawyer drawled. He was leaning against a tree on the perimeter of the clearing, thumbs hanging loosely from the pockets of jeans. He had a smug smile on his face, and somehow Jack knew he was there to do more than exchange pleasantries.
Jack let the ax drop to the ground. Relaxing, he wiped his brow, slick with sweat, then fixed an unamused and impatient look towards Sawyer.
"Sawyer." He greeted, then hiked the ax up and took a swing at a log, neatly slicing it in two.
"Looks like you took my job." Sawyer mused, and took a few steps toward Jack. When Jack didn't respond, and instead swung again at a neighboring log, Sawyer waited until the halves split before venturing again.
"Nice shot."
"Something you want, Sawyer?" Jack shot. He turned towards him, lifting his eyebrows—inviting a response, obviously one with a point.
Sawyer let his dimples emerge.
"Thought you'd never ask." He said dreamily. The sarcasm wasn't lost on Jack, but before he could fire back another remark about wasting his time, Sawyer piped up.
"Noticed you and our ol' Sassafras have been spending a lot of quality time together there, Jackass."
Jack was silenced for a moment and the only sound in the clearing was his heavy breathing. He let the comment go and split another log—this one was off-center. He heard Sawyer let out a chuckle.
"Oh I get it. Don't kiss and tell, eh?"
Jack stopped. "Look Sawyer, if you want to say something about Kate, or me and Kate, just say it."
"No need to get all huffy, doc, just looking for some juicy gossip 'round this island. Hell, I ran out of good readin' material couple weeks back," he flashed a dimpled grin, "gotta have something to keep me entertained…"
Jack let out a laugh.
"I hate to disappoint you Sawyer, but there's not much to tell." He gave Sawyer a pointed look. "Kate and I are friends."
Sawyer watched him skeptically a moment as Jack turned and rested the ax against a stack of wood.
"Just friends, huh?"
Jack set his hands on his hips. "Yeah," he nodded thoroughly, a little peeved, "friends."
Sawyer beamed. "I guess that leaves room for me then, don't it? I mean, Freckles was awful lonely with you gone, and who do you suppose was there to keep her company?"
Sawyer saw Jack's weight shift and his eyes harden like diamonds. His jaw set, but he made no move to speak. Sawyer narrowed his eyes and dug in, taking a few steps closer.
"Yeah, she was real torn up about you missin' and all. See, we all thought you were a goner, but Freckles? Nah, she was always the one leading a pack into the enchanted forest."
Jack was surprised. He knew Kate had been upset at his absence, but distraught wasn't a sentiment he would normally attribute to someone as strong as Kate.
"What do you mean?" Jack ventured. Sawyer looked like he'd accomplished something.
"I mean she was really hurtin', doc. Moping around, not eating much, always moving. Wouldn't let anyone talk sense into her. I'll be the first one to admit I thought it was a lost cause, going out after you," Jack rolled his eyes, "but she kept saying it wasn't what you would do, that you would never leave anyone behind."
"She said that?"
Sawyer smirked. "Scout's honor."
"Did she say anything else?" Jack asked. He kicked himself for putting himself at Sawyer's mercy and teasing, but he had to know. Was there something more?
Sawyer eyed him. "Nope." He said simply, then turned and walked towards the trees.
"Sawyer." Jack said pointedly. Sawyer turned slowly.
"She loves you, doc. She don't have to say it for it to be true. Everyone on this damn island knows it…'cept you that is…and maybe her."
Sawyer walked out of the clearing, leaving Jack to his thoughts—now more troubled then ever. The feelings he had for Kate that he'd been trying to suppress for the last months now bubbled to the surface easily. Did she love him? There was only one way to find out.
Kate let the awkward silence in the kitchen carry on for a moment longer before cutting through it.
"Well, I guess I'll head back to bed." She said, making a move to go past him. He grabbed her arm gently, the touch on her bare arm making her suppress an involuntary shiver. The moment he'd walked in the kitchen, she'd noticed that he was shirtless and muscley, with stubble that sent her mind flying back to fervent kisses on the island, the prickles scratching against her neck. But when Jack's hand closed around her bicep, she realized her own state of undress. She had shed her over shirt and had opted to wear the thin white tank top underneath, then had pulled out a pair of long basketball shorts from Jack's drawer. The short tank top, combined with the baggy shorts left a considerable gap, leaving her taut stomach exposed.
She felt Jack's grip on her arm flex.
"Wait." He said softly. She turned over her shoulder and saw his eyes scanning the flesh of her shoulders and lower back. She gulped and pinked. He looked up at her, his eyes a shade darker. She turned, and let one hand rest on his side, the other braced on the flat of his chest. He let the hand gripping her arm slide down to her side and rest on the skin between her tank and shorts. He leaned forward slightly. Kate closed her eyes in anticipation. Jack stopped almost to her mouth. He blinked. What was he doing? He let his arm drop away from her hip immediately. Her eyes opened, clouded with confusion and a hint of desire.
"Kate, I—we can't do this right now. Just sit for a second, okay? Just sit here." He said, plopping her into the bar stool she had just vacated. She looked confused.
"What—"
"Just—just sit. I'm going to sit here." he said, his words rushing out in a flurry, moving around the counter, and sitting, palming the counter and taking a breath. "I can't believe that almost just happened." He said to himself softly.
Kate narrowed her eyebrows, annoyed now.
"Hello!?" she shot, trying to meet his eyes.
"Sorry. I'm sorry. That wasn't supposed to happen. God Kate, I haven't seen you in months and now…" he ran a hand through his short hair. "I just need to take a breath and think about this for a second."
"Okay."
He studied the granite swirl of the countertop for a few long moments, brow furrowed. He looked up suddenly.
"Let's just do this. Let's just—just tell me everything now. Everything about where you've been and why you left and…everything. Just tell me everything."
She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Everything?" she said disbelievingly.
He seemed determined and bobbed his head. "Everything. I want to know. No lies."
She let a long breath and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Where do I start?"
"Where have you been?"
"A lot of places, Jack. I'm a wanted criminal."
He brushed away her shortness. "Okay, the last place you've been." He folded his hands and set them on the counter in front of him.
Kate studied the muscles of his shoulder and torso before she gave in to answer. She knew this was going to be the last moment of quiet and almost peace she had once she told him. She wished he'd led off with a different question.
"Where, Kate?"
She shot him a sad look. His determination was sweet, but she was waiting for the fallout. When she spoke, she closed her eyes...
"With Sawyer."