Quick Note

Okay, all you hard-core Jaters may be a little upset by the first half of this chapter, but I make up for it with the second. Unfortunately, I had this great scene in my head, all the little movements and words planned out, but when I put them down, it didn't seem so great. Enjoy anyway!

BTW, I'm not getting many reviews… is anyone actually reading this? Hellooo! echoes hello, hello, hello… lol, just kidding.

NYR88: Yes, they do like to hurt each other! Oh well, like I said, second half of chapter THEY ACTUALLY TALK TO EACH OTHER shock gasp!

Hellmouth20: Interesting idea, the rescue party… but we need a few more big lies. The rest of the survivors WILL feature. Just not yet.

Chapter Seven

Jack had left Kate alone in the small room, promising to be back soon. It was about an hour before he came back. She was lying on the bed, on her back, looking at the ceiling. For a moment, he just looked at her. She didn't look peaceful now, though. She looked scared and vulnerable.

"Hey," he said. She looked over, surprised she hadn't heard him come in.

"Hey. Where'd you go?" she asked.

"To check on Ben," he said. He saw the question in her eyes. "He had a tumour - that's why they brought us here. I operated on him, got it out." She looked at him, not saying anything. He pulled out the chair, and she sat up.

"Why help him?" she asked. Jack frowned. Even now, he barely knew.

"What would you have done?" he asked. He saw a gleam of something close to hatred in her eyes, and it scared him.

"I would have killed him," she said. "And I know you could have. Put a scalpel in the wrong place, and no-one would ever know it wasn't an accident…" She noticed him looking at her with an odd expression. He was thinking of how what she had just said was very similar to what Juliet had asked him to do.

"I'm not a murderer, Kate," he said, and she flinched as if slapped. She lay back down on the bed, and resumed staring at the ceiling. He realised he should apologise, but didn't do so. Instead, he changed the topic.

"Tomorrow, we're leaving," he said. She turned her head, mildly interested, but he could still see the hurt he had just inflicted. "Did you know we're not on our island anymore? This is just where they work."

"I knew," she said, her voice flat. "Sawyer told me. That was why… he said there was no point running. Why he didn't even try." Jack felt her slipping over the edge again, and quickly went on.

"Well, because I'm staying with them, this isn't a problem. But since they're going to let you go, they don't want you to see where they're going. Taking you there is a big enough risk. But… I've spoken to Ben, and he said…" Jack paused, knowing that if Kate didn't trust him now, what he would say next would certainly not help. "He said it's your choice; you can wear a hood, or they'll drug you."

Her eyes went wide, and Jack couldn't help but wince inwardly at the two awful choices he had given her. She turned away from him, her innards twisting. For some reason, she had thought that once she was with Jack, everything would be all better. Now she knew better. She had started to trust him, and this was what he did.

She hated the idea of putting one of those hoods back on. They were hard to breathe in, uncomfortable, and as someone who had always had good vision, being so unable to see was terrifying. But when she thought about being drugged, she felt a deep coiled fear, stronger than anything else. She would be totally unable to defend herself, completely helpless. At least with the hood, she retained her wits. And if something happened, if there was a chance to escape, she could always pull it off…

"Tied?" she asked the ceiling.

"I think so," Jack replied, not having any idea, but knowing this was better than saying no, and finding out he was wrong. Silence filled the room again. He reached forward, and took her hand in his. She pulled it away sharply.

Kate realised it would have been easier if she hadn't had to choose, if they'd just done it. Giving them an answer, letting them do it… she shivered. It was too similar to what Sawyer had done. He had had a choice, and knowing that he had submitted to them made the thought of his death even more painful. He'd given up.

She bit her lip. It wasn't that she didn't know which option she preferred. She just found it hard to say the words, to make it real.

"Kate?" Jack asked. "Please, Kate. It's just for a little while. I'll be right beside you, the whole time." A number of snappy retorts sprang to her mind - he would be able to see what was happening, he wasn't in constant fear of the people tying him up, he wouldn't be blind and helpless…

She didn't voice them, though. She sucked in a breath, ignoring the ache in her chest.

"Hood," she whispered eventually. He took her hand again, and gave it a squeeze. She pulled away again, but slower. Why couldn't he even pretend he was still on her side? Why make it so blatantly obvious he was answering to them, doing whatever they told him? Even if he pretended, even if she knew he was lying, it would be easier to believe than the hard truth.

"It'll be all right, Kate," he said, getting up to go tell Ben her decision. She didn't look at him. He had said the words, and all she had to do was believe them. She nodded, and he left, though she knew that nothing would ever be all right again. Michael had betrayed them, Sawyer had betrayed her, Jack had betrayed her, and now she was betraying herself.


Jack had gone out, and come back with some food for dinner, which they had eaten in silence, but aside from a brief argument that night over who would sleep on the bed (Kate eventually won, by lying down on the floor and refusing to look at Jack again), the two didn't say anything more to each other for the rest of the day. Lying on the floor, Kate knew she didn't want to sleep, even though she was exhausted. She was scared of dreaming of Sawyer, she was scared of bringing the effects of her decision closer, she was scared of waking up and finding Jack gone… she concentrated on Sawyer, using the pain to keep her awake.

What was funny, she realised, was that Sawyer would have been perfectly capable of making her take the bed. He would have made some wisecrack to make her smile, and then making her admit she couldn't ignore him. He would have reached down, tickled her belly until she gave in, and got up. And if she didn't, he would probably just pick her up and put her there.

Without warning, her eyes filled with tears again. Sawyer wasn't like Jack. He would have lied to her, comforted her… she gave a mental roll-of-the-eyes. She wanted Sawyer so that he could lie to her? Stupid! But, she realised, when she had Jack, all she wanted was Sawyer, and when she thought about Sawyer, it made her want Jack. They highlighted the good points in each other - Sawyer's dirty past showed her Jack's honesty, whereas Jack's persistence - sometimes a good thing, but often annoying as hell, Kate thought bitterly - showed her Sawyer's laid back temperament and quick wit.

Jack lay in bed, the air thick with silence, and he could feel that Kate was still awake. He thought about saying something, but couldn't think of anything. Once more, the picture of Kate kissing Sawyer, of Kate snuggling into his chest, of his satisfied expression as he held her…

"Why'd you sleep with him?" Jack asked into the silence. For an instant, he hoped he was wrong, that Kate was asleep, that she hadn't just heard him ask that…

"Because he was going to die," she replied. Jack understood the conversation was happening in perfect conditions - he would never be able to say this if he could see her. Somehow, just talking with her voice made it easier.

"You sleep with all the men who are about to die?" he asked, a trace of anger creeping into his voice.

"We knew what they were planning to do… I couldn't just… I needed to give him something." There was a pause. The tension in the air, as Kate carefully chose her words, was sizzling.

"It was all I had, and it was all he wanted. And he'd been trying so hard… I think I thought he deserved something." Silence. Kate didn't know she was holding her breath, waiting for Jack to reply.

"And… what did you feel?" he eventually asked, and she began breathing again, though her gut clenched at his words.

"I told him I loved him," she said. Now the tension was so tight, both of them were afraid that to keep on with this conversation would snap it like a rubber band, stinging them both.

"And do you?"

Pause.

Jack waited.

The silence continued.

Eventually, her voice reached out through the night.

"Yes, in a way. But it's not the same way I feel about you." They said no more, and shortly they fell asleep.