For a few moments, a calm but vaguely tense silence descended over the hatch. All that could be heard was the familiar hum of unknown source behind the walls, the faint sounds of the computer equipment and the occasional click of the countdown timer. Jack leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, as if trying to squeeze away his fears. It didn't work. Lazily, he pried his eyes open again, his gaze drawn back to the face of the fragile figure lying in the bunk in front of him.
Kate was sleeping soundly, her quiet breaths barely audible. Jack watched the steady rise and fall of her chest for a little while, before shifting his gaze again, back to her face. She looked peaceful for once. Jack couldn't recall her ever looking quite like that before if he was honest. He pulled the chair closer to her and reached out, stroking her cheek gently with the back of his fingers. So beautiful, yet so distant.
Sayid, who was still stood in the doorway, watched Jack curiously, not really wanting to interrupt him. He'd seen Jack care for his island patients many times before, but this was to be above and beyond the call of duty. Sayid was already well aware of what was happening between the two of them, but he wondered if they were actually conscious of it. To him, they both seemed oblivious.
"Do you think she'll sleep through?" Sayid asked finally, feeling the need to say something at least.
Jack was shaken out of his contemplation of Kate by Sayid's voice, and he turned to acknowledge him. "Well... We gave her enough to knock out two grown men and have them sleep like babies. She won't be waking up for quite some time."
"Are you planning to stay here until she wakes?"
"I made a promise to her. I'm not gonna break that." Jack shook his head slowly, so as to physically underline his statement.
"All right. I change shifts in half an hour with Hurley. I'll be here if you need me until then." Sayid was satisfied, nodding lightly to Jack before turning and walking out toward the lounge, back to his maps and legends.
The remaining half hour passed without incident, Jack's gaze never deviating from Kate's sleeping form. When Hurley arrived, Jack dismissed him, telling him that Locke and himself were enough. Hurley seemed rather pleased, mumbling something about a backgammon game with Sawyer. Jack had chuckled to himself after he left, knowing Sawyer had no chance of winning that at all.
His amusement noticeably faded when he shifted back to Kate, her pale, stilled face a reminder of exactly why he was sitting down here in the first place. Snow White in her glass coffin he thought, lamely. Unreachable. Jack wished he could touch her emotionally, as well as physically, make her see how much he cared; how much he loved her. He was taking this hard, being unable to fully heal her; to fix her, because she never fully opened herself to him, she never let him in. In yet another bitter irony, Jack didn't realise she felt exactly the same way, and vice versa. Stubbornness prevailed throughout, something they unfortunately shared inflexibly.
Word had spread about Kate through the camp like wildfire. The resident telegraph, a.k.a. Charlie, had spotted Jack racing toward the hatch with an unresponsive Kate in his arms while he was searching for some fresh fruit for Claire.
Over the next few hours, Jack was consistently amazed by the steady stream of people who came to see her. Charlie, of course, with Claire and Aaron in tow, attached firmly to her hip, sucking on his thumb contentedly. She'd asked some awkward questions about Kate's nightmares, considering her own experiences. Jack feigned ignorance, more because he was just as clueless, rather than that he didn't want to answer for fear of making Claire relive her terror. Hurley came back, expressing his concern before heading out to raid the scant few Apollo bars left in the pantry; a small comfort. Locke and Sayid flickered in and out as they always did. Sun and Jin, Jin attempting to practice his burgeoning English with Jack, who listened and answered slowly and patiently. Sun mainly kept quiet though, more than aware of what was happening; more than anyone else in the camp aside from Jack himself. Like Sayid, she'd seen the signs, but chose to keep silent. It was up to them how they figured this out, she knew that. Bernard wandered down, claiming to be looking for Rose, but still managing to ask a few pertinent questions about Kate's wellbeing before scanning the bookshelf and taking away a few choice volumes for later.
Even some of the survivors who usually kept their heads down; Steve and Tracey, Jerome, Richard, that Frogurt guy, Neil was it? Jack found it ironic. Kate didn't even know how many people cared about her, and she probably wouldn't like it one bit. He would tell her though, when she woke.
Sawyer came last, as usual, creeping through the taut air of the hatch in the most reserved way Jack had ever seen him move. He couldn't hide the worry he carried in his eyes and it pulled harshly at Jack's heart. Kate and Sawyer had a strong, underlying bond between them; they were both outcasts, they both had lived a life that Jack could never penetrate, could never fully understand. Jack had always prided himself as being a man of experience, of knowledge, but they were well beyond his bounds on occasion. It made Jack realise how sheltered he'd been, despite everything that had happened to him over the years. His life seemed to pale into insignificance compared to the two of them, and he hated it; hated himself for it. He forced all the emotion down though, swallowing it as he always did; as he'd been taught to, determined to keep his professional air even as Sawyer knelt before her, pulling her limp hand up into his.
"So what's the word, Doc?"
"She hasn't moved for 7 hours. I gave her something to help her sleep."
"You drugged her?!" Sawyer turned to him, mistrust marring his rugged features.
Jack felt his hackles rise, so he took a deep breath and pushed his anger aside as he exhaled protractedly through his clenched jaw. "You honestly think she'd be sleeping here now, willingly? It was the only way, Sawyer. I for one will not let her risk her own life over this."
"What, you think she's makin' it up? You think she's cooking up the ol' amateur dramatics for attention?" Sawyer snorted agitatedly.
Jack let out a sardonic laugh. "What do you take me for? I know she's not making it up, but like I said to you before, she won't say specifically what's wrong. I have to base my treatment on the information I get. Then I have to make a judgement call. This is what what I decided was best for her under the circumstances. Don't lecture me about it, OK?"
Sawyer rose, emitting a sigh that was closer to a growl, turning away from Jack and heading toward the door. He paused briefly, not bothering to face him. "You take care of her, y'hear?"
He walked away then, not allowing Jack to answer. He knew she was in the safest hands possible anyway. He didn't need the confirmation.
Jack must have dozed off for no longer than a couple of minutes, but it was more than enough time for the dreaded sequence of events to come flooding back to him, forcing him to relive each and every single moment with absolute, horrific clarity. Jack awoke with a grunt, his chest painfully tight, his brain still telling him he couldn't breathe, that he was dead. It took a few moments to become fully aware of his surroundings, his laboured breath ringing loudly in his ears. He rested his palm against his sweating forehead, staring at the floor, hoping Locke hadn't heard him; did that man ever leave this place?
It was somehow so much worse the second time around. Rationally, he could explain away a single occurrence of a vivid nightmare as nothing more than underlying fear. But twice? For him, it was unknown, and it scared him just a little bit. For one thing, nightmares happened at night, didn't they? This was late afternoon, and he'd only dropped off for the minutest amount of time.
Jack got up and headed for the sink, his back still on fire, fixing himself a glass of water with slightly shaky hands that he couldn't quite still yet, when he heard a voice behind him. It was Rose.
"Jack." She said brightly as she walked out of the laundry room.
"Hey, Rose."
"Didn't expect to see you down here again so soon. You look a little shook up."
Jack laughed nervously. "Yeah, I know. I'm fine, though; I have someone to look after." He tilted his head towards the bedroom. Rose looked over at the bottom bunk and then back at Jack, noticing how crestfallen he seemed.
"Oh. How is she? Poor thing, she sure has had it rough this last week."
"She's OK, she's OK."
Rose wasn't convinced, but she kept the thought to herself. "I'm sure she is, what with such a handsome Doctor lookin' after her and all."
Jack forced a smile, thinking on his feet to change the subject. "So, I guess you've become the resident laundromat then?
"Sure am, honey. Bernard wouldn't have it any other way. Which reminds me..."
Rose patted him on the shoulder knowingly before wandering off toward the big pile of clothes she'd been sorting. Jack watched her, his curiosity piqued, as she trundled back a few minutes later with a bundle of delicate fabric in her hand.
"These are Kate's. Washed but not ironed. You'd think they'd have one down here, wouldn't you?" Rose chortled. "No matter, I'm sure she won't mind. If I were her, I'd appreciate a shower and a change o' clothes."
Jack grinned broadly, accepting the pile of clothing. "Thank you, Rose." he uttered appreciatively.
"No need to thank me, Jack. Just doin' my job." She winked at him genially, turning back to resume her rightful position.
Settling back in his chair, Jack couldn't help but notice the scent of the clothes in his hands. Despite being washed, they still smelled of her. That faint but unmistakable smell of sea air and soft musk. He closed his eyes, breathing it in slowly with parted lips, letting it wash over his senses, tensing up his body. When he reluctantly opened them again, he found Kate staring right back at him.
"Hey."
"Kate! Hey." He stammered, caught off-guard, a soft blush transiently reddening his cheeks. He smiled tenderly at her.
"What have you got there?"
"Oh, these? They're... your clothes. Rose gave them to me. She washed them for you, thought you'd be grateful of a change." He breathed, finding himself slightly embarrassed.
Kate blinked the sleep groggily out of her eyes, grinning a little. "How long was I out?"
"About 8 or 9 hours. You went out like a light. I was expecting longer though, but then you weren't exactly a willing participant... I- I'm sorry about that."
She sat up slowly, smiling, accepting her clothes from him timidly with one hand, whilst pushing a loose curl round her ear with the other. "It's OK, don't worry. Thanks, Jack." She whispered, tilting her head to him.
"You don't know how many people were down here asking after you." His soft laugh was one of relief. "You hungry? The shower's free if you want it."
Kate stilled, thinking for a moment, looking him over, before she answered quietly. "I'll take the shower, then you can fix me up something to eat. And don't lie."
"I'm not! you had most of the camp down here!" he feigned hurt briefly before continuing. "But all right. Take your time, I'll be right here."
Kate swung her legs out of the bunk, standing up on them hesitantly, like a newborn lamb. Jack stood too, reaching out and steadying her with his arm. She clung to him briefly before letting go.
"I got it, I got it!"
"You sure?"
"Yeah, I can take it from here, no worries."
He watched her move slowly away from him toward the bathroom, thankful she'd had an uninterrupted period of sleep. He hoped that this would set her on the road to recovery. Little did he know how wrong he was.
