Wow, practically every review made mention of the fact that I mentioned this chapter. The pressures on apparently lol. I think its good, and for the record thats b/c I like angst lol. So yes, for the record beign totally mad at me is allowed after this chapter...and a lot of the coming ones.
Also, if you have a chance, check out (and hopefully review) some of my kinda lame, but not horrific...I don't think ...jate oneshots! I would love to here even more from all you fellow Jaters!
Kate shivered, scrubbing the blood off of herself in the shower, using the wall for support, too shaken to stand on her own fully.
Coming out, she looked at Jack's pale figure lying on the bed. His breathing was still weak, and she sucked in a breath as she saw a bruise on his sternum forming in the shape of a boot. Examining him further, she saw a huge bruise had started on his upper back too. She cursed silently, wishing she had been able to keep up with Jack back in the ship yard.
She pulled a chair up next to the bed, holding his hand in hers, bringing her other hand up to his face, running it over his cheek, again irritated by his damn beard, realizing for the first time since the shooting how close they had been to ending up in each others arms back in the ship yard. It occurred to her that she had never kissed him with a beard, and then, that she didn't want to. The beard represented everything her Jack wasn't, everything he had spent the last couple of days trying to get rid of, his drug addiction, the alcohol. She fidgeted for a second, before getting up and fishing a razor out of a bag. She gently dabbed on the shaving cream, being careful as she ran the razor over his face, slowly chiseling away at the beard, revealing under it the strong jaw and smile of the Jack she loved. Finishing, she ran her hands over his face. She hadn't done a perfect job, there was still a thin layer of scruff, but she smiled slightly, knowing he'd like that. He shifted and groaned in discomfort in his sleep, and she felt the over powering urge to be closer to him. She shifted him gently, and lay behind him, cradling his back against her chest, her legs on either side of his, letting his head fall back against her shoulder, as she wrapped her arms around his stomach, holding him protectively. "Kate…" he whispered in his sleep, and a few more of her tears dripped onto his chest. She leaned her head down and gently kissed his neck, keeping her head buried there in his neck; savoring the smell and feel of his skin on hers.
"It's okay Jack, just go to sleep," she whispered soothingly into his ear. She trembled slightly, knowing that she couldn't go to sleep until he had woken up, afraid that maybe it was just a dream, and she had failed in fixing him. She sat listening to his shallow breathing for hours before he stirred against her again. He muttered something incoherent against her bare skin before his eyes fluttered open looking straight back into hers.
"Hey," he whispered weakly, breathing her in as deeply as he could, coughing suddenly. She helped push him up into sitting position, climbing around to his front, fear and concern in her eyes. He looked down and winced seeing the bruise on his chest. "Damn," he swore, the pain hitting him like a bull dozer. His shoulder felt like it had been through a shredder, and it hurt like hell to breath, both his sternum and back ached. Kate surveyed the damage there for the first time, shoulders sagging frustrated.
"Can you hold yourself up for a minute?" she asked concerned.
"Think so," he breathed, gripping the side of the bed as she left, suddenly feeling very heavy. He hadn't realized how much she was supporting him until she was gone. She came back with ice, sitting again so that she supported his weight and he winced as she pressed the ice into a particularly large welt on his back.
They stayed silent a minute as she helped him get more comfortable. Their eyes met again, and Kate sucked in a breath, seeing the tenderness in his eyes, knowing that he was thinking about their almost kiss in the ship yard, same as her. Seeming to read her mind, he shifted his focus, gesturing to the cut on her forehead, wincing as he pulled himself back up.
"Let's see that," he said, unconsciously moving his hand up to run it over his beard, freezing as his hand instead found his shaved chin. He looked at her surprised for a second before a small smile crept across his face.
"After I cleaned the blood off you I figured I should finish the job," she explained sheepishly. He laughed appreciatively, pulling her closer, almost onto his lap, to examine her cut. He saw her try to hold back a flinch as he peeled the band aid back.
"How's it look?" she asked, trying to keep her mind off of the fact that he was breathing right into her mouth because of their angle, their noses grazing every time he moved.
"All three stitches are looking good," he said with a small smile.
"Only three huh? Felt like more," she joked lamely, watching his lips as he worked.
He opened his mouth to speak but froze when they made eye contact. He swallowed hard, seeing the love and tenderness he felt reflected in her eyes. For a moment everythign seemed to stop and then their mouths crashed together, the spark of passion instantly turning tender as she brought her hands up to cup his face. He pulled her fully onto his lap, letting his good hand sneak under the rim of her shirt, sending butterflies through her stomach at his feather light touch, while his injured arm rested on the small of her back pulling her closer. Their bodies and mouths entwined until Jack was forced to pull back with a painful cough, his breathing still weak from the fight.
"You okay?" Kate asked, passion instantly replaced by concern for the man she loved.
"Yeah, no I'm fi—"he froze, as over Kate's shoulder he saw his own personal peanut gallery had returned all watching them intently.
Charlie looked startled, "Well don't bloody stop on our account Jack," he said his eyes wide as he gave him two thumbs up. Claire thumped him over the back of the head, rolling her eyes.
"We can't do this Kate," he said suddenly, moving her off of his lap and staggering to his feet.
"Wait, what?" she said stung and worried by his sudden change in mood. "Jack! Why not?" she challenged growing angry.
"Because we aren't alone," he blurted out honestly before he could stop himself.
Kate glanced around confused, "What are you talking about Jack?"
He gave a short nervous chuckle, sick of lying and of having this almost relationship with Kate that was built on half truths and flat out lies-all on his part at this point, running his hand through his hair, "You'll think I'm crazy Kate," his eyes finally meeting hers, the wounded puppy dog look entering his eyes, silently pleading for understanding.
She was across the room and at his side in seconds, putting her hands on his sides as she felt him sway. "Hey, you can tell me anything. You know that," she said softly, her voice full of tenderness and love. "You and me Jack; all the way," she affirmed her voice unwavering.
He let out a ragged breathe, relenting "You're alone Kate….but I'm not," he sighed, his face twisting as if what he was about to say made him physically ill, "For the last couple of months I…I've been seeing dead people,"
She took a step back in surprise. That hadn't even been in the realm of what she had expected to hear. "Dead people?" she squeaked, "Like the 6th sense?"
He gave her his doctor look, it telling her silently he wasn't looking to the spiritual and Para-normal for answers "It's not supernatural Kate," he said sadly, "I'm just going…well…I'm just crazy," sitting down on the couch, he put his hand over his face, unable to look her in the eye; humiliated at how weak he was mentally, and at the moment even physically.
She sat down next to him, gently putting her hand on his bare back, supportively, despite the fact that she was freaked and scared out of her mind. She wasn't scared of him, but for him. She had no doubt he was seeing things but she wanted to know why.
"Jack, who exactly are you seeing?" she asked. He winced, pained.
"All of them Kate. Everyone we lost back there; Charlie, Ana, Boone….Claire," he said his voice choked with guilt.
She felt tears well up in her own eyes, hating to see him still beating himself up about what had happened on the island, "Jack….none of that was your fault. There was nothing more you could have done for any of them," she tried to counsel him.
He nodded slowly. "I don't just see them Kate…they talk to me," he whispered. "I hear Boone's last gasps for air over and over again, and Charlie god," he laughed slightly a small smile on his face as he remembered his friend, "he never shuts up."
Kate smiled slightly, "What are they saying now?" she asked, wanting and hoping that talking might make it easier.
"Charlie's yelling at me for putting a stop to what we were doing back there," Jack said smiling softly as he gestured back to the bed. Kate laughed slightly despite herself. That sounded just like Charlie.
The mood shifted though when she asked, "How long have you been seeing them Jack?"
He pulled away from her, his good hand came up, and he ran it through his hair frustrated and scared, his brow furrowed in pain, "8 months," he whispered, feeling her tense up as she realized what he meant.
"That's…that's why you…," her mouth was dry, "This is what you couldn't talk to me about? This is why you left?" she finished, getting up, hurt that after all the weird shit they had been through on the island he didn't trust her enough to help him get over their mutual friends deaths.
He looked up at her pained, a tear on the corner of his eye, "It wasn't that I was seeing them Kate…it was what they were saying," he whispered, his voice raw with pain. "What my father's ghost told me," he laughed bitterly at the term ghost, despite all he had gone through still not believing in what he couldn't prove.
She turned her head concerned as she came to sit in front of him on the floor, her hands holding his in support. She knew his history with his father; he had lived his entire life, never being a good enough son, a good enough man, or even a good enough surgeon to win his approval. Jack was loyal to a fault, she had seen that first hand, and he had been so to his father too, despite the fact that his father had never returned that devotion, instead kicking Jack and punishing him at every turn. Jack had played it down, telling her over and over his father had only done what he did because he wanted the best for him, but Christian's actions spoke for themselves in the stories Jack told. She forced him to look at her, holding his chin in her hands, "What did he say to you Jack?" she whispered, angry at his father, a man she had never met, for hurting his son so much.
"He told me…that I," his voice cracked with guilt, failure, and pain, "That I not suppose to raise him," he said, looking her in the eye only when he said 'him', making sure she knew who he was talking about. Kate felt queasy, clarity suddenly hitting her like a brick wall. She rested her head on his knee briefly, shaking and heart broken for him, knowing how hard that must have been; being like his father, being a bad father, was Jack's worst fear in the world. Couple that with the fact that he had been told it from beyond the grave and Kate understood, begrudgingly, why he had run. He put a hand on her shoulder tentatively, thinking she hated him, thinking she realized how disturbed and messed up he truly was for the first time. He moved to leave, and she pulled him back to the couch easily since he was still too weak to fight her and she crawled up next to him, holding his good arm tight to her chest, forcing him to hold her hand as their arms entwined. She cupped his face with her other hand turning it so that he looked her dead in the eyes, their faces inches apart. "I'm so sorry Kate," he whispered brokenly.
She kissed him tenderly on the lips, squeezing his hand tightly as she lightly caressed his face, kissing his eyes, nose, and chin before recapturing his lips. "Shh Jack," she soothed, "Its okay. Hey, it's okay," she whispered resting her forehead to his. She shifted again into his lap, her head still on his, "From now on, it's you and me with this one though okay. I have your back," she said through her own tears, "You're gonna talk to me, tell me what they're saying. You're going to let me in," she added her lip trembling, afraid for the broken man in front of her that she loved with every fiber of her being, despite all of his demons. She felt her heart start to pound in her head as he brought his good arm up, pulling her close; the passion of his kiss staggering. She locked her arms around his neck tightly. He pressed her against him more fully, electricity coursing through them at every point of contact, leaning back into the couch as she situated herself so that she didn't hurt his shoulder or chest. They pulled back, and Jack again froze, but he didn't detangle himself from her like last time, instead tightening his arm around her waist. "What is it Jack?" she asked worried she had hurt him.
"My dad's back," he whispered, his voice cracking. "We can't um…"
She shifted off his lap disappointed and yet touched. Even though Jack seemed perfectly aware that his demons weren't real, he would never take her in front of anyone, even if they were imaginary; no matter how much he wanted it and she knew he had-badly. In some weird way it was him being his old chivalrous self. She ducked her head smiling, even going through hell, trying to convince himself he was some sort of monster, he was still the perfect gentlemen.
The moment didn't last though, as looking up she saw him staring angrily at the chair, lost in whatever his father was saying. She found herself wanting to cry as she watched him talk in an angry hushed tone to nothing. Letting it all sink in as she watched, it finally struck her as odd; he had dealt with their deaths for over two years before suddenly he just started seeing them? Something about that didn't sit right with her, and she frowned, worried.
"You're being selfish again Jack," his father scolded.
"Shut. Up," he hissed back threateningly, his voice low, trying not to upset Kate too much. She had accepted his revelation, but he doubted she would take well to seeing him explode like he wanted to at his father, who as far as she, and every other sane person on the planet could tell, wasn't actually there.
Christian stood up, eyeing his son with pity, "Look at yourself son," Jack stared back loathingly, "You're a drunk and a junkie Jack. Just like me," Christian chuckled, "You'll never stay clean. And you know what kind of father those things make a person. Are you really saying you would put Aaron through that, through what I put you through?" Jack swallowed hard, realizing he hadn't been thinking of Aaron, too consumed by what he felt for Kate, to busy being selfish to think aobut the boy who didnt' have a say in what sort of environment he would be raised in. "You would put Kate through it?" he asked for emphasis, and Jack turned away, hating it but knowing that his father was right.
Jack walked away as his father went silent, apparently satisfied that his point had been made. Running a hand through his hair, Jack stumbled back to the couch, and Kate held him gently again, supporting him. He stiffened as if her touch burned, ashamed.
"What did he say Jack?" she questioned concerned. He didn't answer immediately; instead he just closed his eyes, listening to the sound of her breathing, being selfish one last time.
"We can't do this Kate," he finally said, pulling away from her.
"What?" Kate said frowning, irritated by how easily he seemed to be moving between being ready to make love to her and shutting her out.
"Think about it," he said his throat dry, "I'm crazy Kate. And you, you know what kind of hell I'm in." he sighed running a hand through his hair, "But you have a son to worry about Kate. What happens if I relapse huh? What if he sees? If you have to explain why I leave again? Can you handle that? Can he? We both know the kind of father an alcoholic is Kate. I won't do that to him. He's better off with me gone and we both know it," he finished, his jaw clenched as he shook his head, his mind made up.
"Jack that's not going to happen," she argued careful of what she said not wanting to scare him, "You are a good man," she grabbed the sides of his face, her hands trembling as tears spilled down her face, "Such a good man," she said again, her voice firm despite her chin wobbling to stop the tears. "You threw out the pills so that I could have two minutes alone with Aaron. I know you, and I know you can do this. We can get through this-together. I trust you. I have faith in you…in us," she pleaded, forcing him to keep eye contact, wanting him to see the complete trust and faith she really did have in him.
He smiled at her sadly, and she felt her heart shatter; it hadn't been enough. "Kate," he swallowed, his eyes going wide, "I trust you too. I just don't trust me." She started to protest, but his eyes widen as he grabbed her arm continuing, "No listen," his voice cracked, "Every second I want those pills; every second of every single day. Because when I'm on them, and I see all of our dead friends sitting around the coffee table, blood pouring from their wounds, playing the "Crap Hole Island' edition of Monopoly, I don't worry about how I should be freaked out that I'm seeing dead people. I can just watch them," his eyes teared up, "and laugh at how happy they all seem," swallowing hard, "and my father…he stays quiet. He just sits and stares, but I don't have to hear him," he finished shakily.
She stayed silent a long moment, trying to regain her composure enough to speak, knowing that if she tried as she was it would come out as a sob. "So that's it? We just…what? Pretend that there's nothing between us?" she said unable to hide the hurt in her voice.
He swallowed hard unable to look her in the eye, "I can't …I can't be selfish with you Kate. The second they let us, we're getting your son away from Ben, and then you and your son are going right back to your life. And I'm not a part of that. I can't be a part of that," he swallowed hard," You both deserve better."
She trembled, swallowing back her fury, "Maybe we deserve better Jack, but you're the one Aaron and I both want," she said in a low voice, walking to the door, "Your so stupid and stubborn sometimes Jack," she whispered, unable to fully contain her anger as her voice shook slightly, slamming the door behind her.
Jack sank to the couch, defeated; trying desperately to convince himself he had done the right thing.
"Oh Eko, you landed in the Polar bear den again, you lose your next turn," Charlie's voice came from the bed, followed by the sound of familiar laughter and the role of a dice, and Jack let out an anguished sob.
...okay...so anyways, its the weekend which usually means reviews are up, so hypothetically you can get the next chapter to this, which includes Jate FLASHBACKS (yay!) Saturday, or heck if your real awsome and give me 8 reviews in the next...roughly ...7 hours I might even post it tonight.
I hope the revelation wasn't to lame, hopefully, since you got the Jack/Wayne parallel, you also got, from Diane's comment about Jacks problems, that Kate, like her mom also loves Jack unconditionally, like Diane did Wayne. Obviously Jack's a better person, but thats the reason I had Kate take the news so well...having read it over to myself 50 times it finally struck me as possibley a little OOC. Hopefully not to much, given that I really pride myself on my characterization of them, which is something reviewers have mentioned, so I hope it was okay...
oh...also, if you didn't get that last line b/c my brain works in random ways, they were playing the Crap hole island monoply at the end.
So chapter 8: Jate Flashbacks, Locke Returns, and Jack takes a bath...oh, and something else happens that you'll enjoy evil secretive smile
Thanks for the reviews and I hope you enjoyed it
