A/N: Hey yall, hope you don't hate me :P I know it's been forever since I've updated, but seriously, hockey and school are sucking up all my time. I've barely had anytime to work on this, and considering we have 4 months left of school, and I've barley gotten 50 of my year done, I'm gonna be a bit slow on updates.

This chapter's more of a filler, nothing big really happens. I've got some HUGE plotlines coming up, idea's that I hope you'll like, if you continue reading.

Please R&R, it really means a lot. Tell me what you think about the chapter, whether you think it's rubbish or good, or whatever.


Enjoy :D

14.14 Awake

Charlie walked across the beach, barefoot, enjoying the very first rays of sunshine, the still-damp sand sticking between his toes. He dodged the numerous bodies that littered the beach, rocking his torso back and forth in what he hoped was a soothing motion.

"There, there Turnip-head. Shush-up now, no need to worry, Charlie's here," he muttered quietly, doing his best to quiet Claire's baby down. He gurgled and squinted his eyes, and for an instance, Charlie could swear that Turnip-head had understood him. Charlie had finally managed to separate Claire from him, promising her valiantly that no harm would befall her precious son if only she left him with Charlie for a few hours.

Turnip-head gurgled with a small sniffle, tired, annoyed with all the motion that Charlie was causing. Charlie sighed, and reluctantly began looking around the beach, searching for a spot where he would be able to sit down, and calm restless Turnip-head without disturbing someone.

He spotted a tent, and wandered towards it absently, assuming it was empty.

As he got closer to the tent, the baby was beginning to whimper, and Charlie wandered in with his head down, muttering quietly to Turnip-head. He snuggled Turnip-head closer to his chest, smiling at how he turned his tiny head towards the steady rhythm of Charlie's heart.

He looked up just as he entered the doorway of the tent to see Boone lying on the bed, looking up at him awkwardly. Charlie looked harder and realized that Boone was hugging a redheaded bump. A girl.

"Is that Danoso?" he asked timidly.

"Yeah," Boone whispered, smiling at her head. "She woke up yesterday and started spitting blood, but she's fine now… I hope…" he added quietly to himself. He kissed her gently on the back of her head. "And look, about what happened back at the jungle…"

"Yeah, what was that all about?" Charlie asked. It'd been four days since Boone had shoved Jack and given the Others Danoso's location. But now he was in her bed, holding onto her tightly. He'd had no time to get all the facts, his hands full to the brim with taking care of Turnip-head and Claire.

"It's a long story…"

Charlie walked around the bed to the chair that was conveniently positioned by its head. "Good thing I've gotten bottoms of time then," he said, sitting down in the chair. He placed Turnip-head on his lap, half-supporting him with his arms. He then proceeded to making himself comfortable.

Boone looked at the figure in Charlie's arms and couldn't suppress a grin. "Is that…?"

"Claire's baby?" Charlie grinned as well, and leaned forwards so that Boone would be able to see clearer. "Beautiful little thing, isn't he?" he said proudly. Turnip-head was dozing peacefully, curled up against Charlie.

Boone observed the baby, marveling how much it had grown in less then a week. It seemed like forever since he had watched Jack pull the prune-resembling baby from Claire. "He does look a lot cuter without all that gunk hanging off of him," Boone finally admitted.

Danoso shifted restlessly beside him, her head settling down on his chest. The motion broke the moment, and Boone found her hand under the blankets and held it, weaving his fingers through hers.

"So, about this story… Better be bloody good," Charlie warned. Boone sensed that he was still bitter about the events in the jungle.

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"How's it coming?"

Kate looked up and dropped her shovel unceremoniously onto the ground. She walked over to Jack and examined her handy-work while accepting an open bottle of water.

"Well-," she said, somewhat deflated at how little her and Locke had actually accomplished. "It's coming…" Jack laughed, and she looked up at him.

She took a sip of water, tilting her head back, maintaining the eye contact.

"What?" he asked finally, suspicious. She had the plotting glint in her eye.

"It's just that, we need more people. With just John and me digging, the excavation's going to take forever…" she sighed, looking again at the shallow indent her and Locke had created after hours of slaving over the bland dirt.

Jack watched her face change with a sudden thought.

"Is she…" Jack nodded quickly. He didn't have to ask, because he knew that Kate was referring to Danoso.

"She should be fine. I checked in before I left the beach, and I'm going to check in the second I get back," Jack reassured.

Kate nodded, handing the bottle back to Jack, who promptly took a sip from it. "So I see you've finally converted to the beach life-style," she teased.

"Well, I'm planning to move her to the caves as soon as she gets good enough to move." Kate shook her head. He placed the water bottle into his bag, and put the bag on the ground.

"You know I'm going to help, right?" he said, smiling.

"I knew you would," Kate answered smugly.

"So why are we digging this thing up again?" Jack asked, catching the shovel Kate had tossed at him.

Kate sighed and started digging. "Because Locke seems to think that there might be a door somewhere under it."

"Of course he does," Jack muttered dryly, but nevertheless began digging silently beside Kate. After a while Jack looked around, noticing that Locke had been absent since he'd arrived there. "Where is he anyways?"

"He went to go get us some food. We've been working on this thing non-stop, which is the reason I can't understand why the hole isn't getting any deeper…" Jack could tell that she was frustrated. He looked to where she'd been throwing the dirt and noted with amusement that she had been throwing it into an already made shallow trench.

"Are you sure you haven't been shoveling dirt into already made holes?"

Kate looked behind her and noticed for the first time that Jack's words may have had some truth to them. "Yeah…" she muttered, her cheeks reddening slightly. From then on, she made it a point of looking at where she threw her dirt.

They slipped into a comfortable silence, quietly working, enjoying each other's company. The sun rose higher into the sky, and Jack slowly moved away from her, inch by inch, digging around the outline of the hatch. He was the first one to break the silence.

"You know what I've always wondered?" Jack asked, waiting until Kate looked up at him before continuing. Sweat was dripping down her face, as he was sure was his. She leaned against her shovel, looking at him.

'Why there were shovels on the plane anyways. I mean, fire extinguishers, okay. A zillion hunting knifes, okay, they were checked. The marshals guns, they were checked too. The fireworks and the axe are kind of questionable, but why shovels? Were they actually found anywhere near the wreckage?"

Kate walked over to Jack's bag and removed the bottle of water, taking a sip before answering him. "Didn't Scott or Steve find them in the jungle someplace a little while ago?"

Jack regarded her. "Scott died a long time ago, Kate."

"Oh…" Kate was surprised that she forgot. Maybe she didn't know everyone as well as she had thought. "Then it must have been Steve." Kate shrugged it off and tossed the water to Jack, who almost dropped it.

"Smooth," she teased.

"Yeah? You think?"

"Mmhmm," Kate agreed conceitedly. She walked past Jack who watched her keenly and began digging. Not five seconds later, her face was dripping with luke-warm water. She gasped, wiping her face off with her arm. She stared at Jack, feigning shock. It wasn't often that his playful side came out.

"Sorry," Jack grinned, holding the half-empty bottle. "Couldn't resist."

Kate walked up to him, giving him the angriest look she could muster. "Yeah, well…" Jack's grin dropped as she came closer to him. Her face was dripping with water, her shirt soaked. She looked just a little pissed.

"Kate-" Jack started, but she grabbed the bottle of water and tipped it so that it poured down Jack's front. She was too short to get it up over his head.

"Take that," she said, smirking, fighting the reflex to stick her tongue out.

"Consider it taken." Jack turned the bottle over Kate's head, trying to get her with whatever was left. She dodged out of the way, jogging a safe distance, out of Jack's throwing range, the water trickling harmlessly to the ground.

"I bet you can't catch me," she challenged Jack with a singy-song voice.

Jack raised an eyebrow and grinned, dropping the empty bottle. "I bet I can," he replied, taking off after her.

Kate squealed and ran around the tree she'd been standing by, Jack hot on her heels.

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Kate pulled herself lower to the ground, hiding beneath the bush, pretending she was playing a game with Tom.

Capture-the-Flag she decided. They were in the dense Australian forest behind their school, playing with a couple kids from their class. Just like they did after school every other day.

"Katie, where are you?"

Her mind easily morphed the voice, playing it higher then it really was, taking out all of the anger.

It made the words perfectly articulated, the "r" rolling. She was the best at Capture-the-Flag, she reminded herself. No one could ever catch her.

Size 10 steel-toe boots came and went, passing dangerously close in front of her.

Just the kids, she reminded herself, looking for intruders, developing a plan amongst themselves to capture her teams flag. She was on enemy territory now, and she couldn't afford to get caught.

She waited a couple more seconds, making sure that the kids were gone. Taking a deep breath, she lifted herself carefully to a crouching position. She looked around quickly, making sure that he -- that no one would catch her.


She hesitated, and then stepped forward quietly, avoiding the pile of dead leaves to the left.

An owl hooted in the distance.

Crickets created their music, and water steadily flowed between rocks and debris on its way to the pond.


Kate took another tentative step.

This game she would win, because she already knew where the flag was. She just had to get there safely.

Pumping herself up silently, she counted to three. Then she booked it. She ran as fast as she could, her surroundings a continuous blur. She ran as quickly as her legs could carry her, pushing herself to go even faster. To squeeze some more gel out of the toothpaste tube. She saw the flag --the lights welcoming her. She was going to win this time.

She shot up the stairs of the old porch, ignoring its creaks of protest, whipping open the screen door. She'd gotten to the flag without getting captured. She grinned childishly at her victory, opening the inside door.


The door came easy. Kate froze when she realized that someone was opening it at the same time she was.


A moment of silence passed as the man at the door recognized whom she was.

"Katie," the man slurred, and Kate snapped out of her trance. She turned to run, but the man had already caught her wrist, and was gripping it tightly. She thrashed, attempting to loosen his grip, but he only laughed, her strength no match for his.

Kate struggled, his hand cutting off the circulation to her own. She struggled to escape, her mind no longer able to change his voice, no longer able to make it innocent and playful.

"Don't be hatin'… Katie," he grinned, still laughing at her pitiful attempts to throw him off. Kate fought harder, punching him with her free hand. He captured her other wrist, and pulled her into the house, slamming the door shut with his heel.

Her game had failed, and she had lost. Again.

-----------------------

Kate suddenly stopped running, and Jack ran full into her, tackling her to the ground, falling beside her.

"Caught you," he breathed, his face red, trying to catch his breath, holding onto his ribs tightly. He wasn't the world's best runner, not by a long shot, and not compared to Kate. He caught sight of her face, knowing immediately that something was wrong.

"Kate?" he asked, focusing his attention on her. Her face was pale, and she was barely breathing, like she was trying to hide from someone.

Kate remained silent, thinking. The memory was so vivid in her mind, like a nightmare, playing out over and over again. All her life she'd been running. If not for fun, then from home, from Tom's death, from Wayne, from the law, from everything. Why had that memory, that particular memory, come back now?

"Kate." She heard for the first time Jack calling her name, and she blinked her eyes, noticing that Jack had moved from beside her to over her, looking down at her.

"You okay?" he asked, concerned. His eyes searched her face for clues, his hand tucked reassuringly in her hair.

She stared up at Jack's face, so troubled and protective, and felt her fears weaken. She was no longer a defenseless teenager, helpless to protect herself. She was out in the middle of the jungle, with Jack. One glance at him, and everything seemed better; less scary.

Kate looked at him, and then nodded slightly. She didn't want him to be worrying about her and her age old memories when he already had too many things running around in his mind. She knew that if she wanted too, he would listen and comfort her, and that was good enough for her.

"Are you sure?"

Kate couldn't help but laugh. If only he knew. "I'm sure."

He got off her, and sat on the ground, not entirely convinced. She'd dropped the subject too quickly, and he wanted to help her through whatever had happened. He noticed a cut on her cheek, and took her head in his hands. Kate felt her skin tingle from the contact.

"I'm fine Jack," she reassured him, sitting up and taking his hand from her face, holding it in hers.

"Kate-"

"It's just a little cut, don't worry about it," she said before he got a chance to finish. She just wanted to forget about everything. She was safe as long as Jack was there.

Jack shook his head. "What about-"

"Jack." He stopped in the middle of his sentence. "I'm positive," she told him firmly. His protectiveness was boarder-line annoying, but she found it endearing. He didn't press the subject, and she leaned in closer to his face. He brushed away a lingering curl of hair.

"Kate?" he whispered quietly.

"Yeah?"

They leaned in closer to each other; so close that Jack could see the black flecks hidden in her eyes, freckles dotting the bridge of her nose.

"KATE!"

They both groaned inwardly, and sat back on their feet, letting go of each other's hands.

"I'm over here, John," Kate called out, annoyed.

Locke came out of the bushes, his face emotionless as he noted their spots, kneeling on the ground. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything," he apologized monotone.

"It's okay," Jack sighed, getting up with a grunt, and then extending his hand down to Kate. Kate took it without hesitation, holding it longer then necessary.

Locke began to look a little uncomfortable, his usual confident demeanor instead shifting uncertainly from foot to foot. "I'm going to go work on the hatch…" he trailed off.

"I'll come," Kate offered, following him into the jungle, giving Jack a shy wave.

Jack waved back half-heartedly. He sighed. Something had scared Kate bad right before she stopped running, and Jack wanted to find out what it was. He hadn't pushed it at the time, she seemed so scared he let it drop, but now his skin crawled with curiosity. Whatever was making her upset; he wanted to help her with. He wanted to tell her not to worry, that everything would be fine.

That nothing would happen to her, because he was there for her.

---------------------

Jack watched Danoso sleeping peacefully in Boone's arms. She had been restless throughout the night, though never reaching a point where she woke; heavily restricted in her movement due to her injured leg. Her tiny body fit smoothly into Boone's as they both faced him, eyes shut and peaceful looks floating on their faces. Boone had his arm around her, holding her hand tightly, never letting go. Although she was much smaller then him, he had his head nestled in her neck, holding her close to him.

Jack wondered if this was the beginning of something. He made a mental note to himself to ask her how old she was.

What disturbed him the most was how much dry, caked blood was soaked into the sheets. There were flakes falling out of Boone's hair whenever he moved, and the blood that had soaked into the pillow had begun to crack.

Dirt covered his arms, and he itched to go and wash it off, but stayed where he was. The excavation of the hatch was coming along slowly, Kate and Locke there right now, working on it.

Kate.

Jack smiled at the thought of her. It bugged him that she hadn't told him what was bothering her, and he wondered why. Was it that she didn't trust him?

He yawned unexpectedly. Everything had been so crazy the past 24 hours that he hadn't gotten a chance to close his eyes and get some shut-eye. The yawn started a domino effect, and soon his eyes opened for the last time, before he drifted off into a sleepy oblivion.

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Danoso woke up slowly, stirring from the sounds of the daily happenings of the beach. People could be heard chatting, yelling and laughing, completely oblivious to all the troubles that had occurred. She'd somehow turned during the night, so that her back was now pressed against Boone's front, his head nestled in her neck, her hand entangled in his, both resting on her hip.

She opened her eyes, the top of her head peeking out from under a blanket. Jack was sleeping in what looked like the most uncomfortable sitting position she could image. His body was covered in dirt and sweat, which made her wonder where he'd been and had been doing before. People on the island got dirty, but Jack looked downright ridiculous. He even had dirt in his hair. The hand that propped up his head slipped, and he fell forward, luckily waking up before hitting the ground. He looked around quickly, embarrassed, checking to see if anyone saw his fall. He looked at the bed and saw Danoso's eyes watching him.

"Hey," he said softly, surprised, but smiling. The light was strong, and he could see that she was awake.

"Hey," Danoso whispered back, only able to do that much. Her throat felt dry and cracked, like she hadn't had anything to drink in ages.

"You feeling okay?" he asked. He moved closer to her, looking into her eyes for any signs of illness.

Danoso shrugged. "What's with all the blood?" she asked, her voice growing stronger.

"You got sick. Does this hurt?" Jack asked, pushing down on her stomach. Danoso shook her head. "Do you remember anything?" he questioned.

Danoso studied Jack. She remembered something, but what she wasn't sure what it was yet. Something tugged at the corner of her mind, begging to be remembered. It seemed like so long ago, and when she looked into Jack's eyes, she could feel the realization drawing closer.

She vaguely remembered a framed picture among other things; a picture that looked like it was crying.

"Do you have a son, Jack?"

Jack froze and stared. The question came out of nowhere. It was too random not to be significant.

Jack swallowed the strange lump in his throat.

"Thirsty?" he asked, completely changing the subject. He got up and rubbed his eyes with one hand while his other was busy finding water.

Danoso nodded, smiling her thanks. She hadn't missed Jack's sudden change of topic, but didn't have the energy to press it. He unscrewed the bottle, and Danoso gently pushed herself up into a sitting position, trying, but not succeeding in not waking Boone.

Boone was alert in a flash, wrapping his arms around Danoso's body and pulling her towards him. Jack and Danoso both looked at him with wide-eyes. It took a second for him to realize what he was doing was a little odd, and he loosened his grip a little.

"Sorry," he muttered, smiling sheepishly. "I thought you were falling-" he explained, a yawn escaping.

Danoso leaned against his chest, smiling. "It's okay."

Boone looked over to the chair Jack had occupied. "Where did Charlie go?"

"Charlie?" Jack looked at him curiously, as though he was the one who'd gotten hit on the head.

"Yeah, he was here with… Claire's baby, and I was explaining what happen back in the jungle… Sorry about that by the way," Boone smiled apologetically, and Jack shrugged. He didn't really want to think about it.

"So did you find out anything from…" he gave Danoso a sideways glance, "them?" he finished.

Danoso looked curiously up to Jack, who gave her the bottle. "No, I didn't," he answered. He really didn't want to talk about it. A minute of silence followed, the only sound Danoso gulping water noisily.

"Slow down," Jack ordered after a few seconds of watching Danoso drink. He tipped the bottle back. "You're going to send your system into shock."

She rolled her eyes, and tried to shift closer to Boone, but stopped, grimacing. "What's wrong with my leg?" she asked, removing the bottle from her lips. The cool water felt good, refreshing her body. She leaned forward and took the blanket off, Boone's arms still wrapped loosely around her waist.

"I think you might have a torn ligament or two… I really don't think that you should look-"

An unreadable expression crossed Danoso's face as she stared at he yellowing green bruise. There was thin orange stitching keeping a gash together, and it had swollen to twice as big as her other leg. She searched for a word that would describe it. She settled on, "ew."

"Ew." Boone mocked, his voice high and squeaky.

"Shut-up," Danoso laughed, clearing her throat and removing his arms. She used her hands to move away and awkwardly swung her uninjured leg off the bed. Jack grabbed her arm with his hand before she could go any further.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To the bathroom…"

Jack bit his lip. This was a conversation he'd wanted to steer clear of.

"What?" Danoso asked, alarmed that he was even considering not letting her leave the bed.

"You can't walk." He hoped that she would read between the lines.

Danoso laughed, perhaps relieved. "Yeah, but Boone can carry me."

"What? Um…" Boone looked worried at the idea; alarmed he'd been pulled into the conversation.

Jack still looked doubtful. "I'm not sure that…"

"Jack, I'm going to have to go pee eventually."

"Right," Jack could feel his skin warm. She didn't have to be so forward about it. I'm a doctor, he reminded himself, and I'm not embarrassed of this kind of stuff. "Let me bandage your leg first, and then you can go…"

"To the ladies room?" Danoso supplied, grinning at his discomfort.

"Yeah, that." He pulled out two fairly built sticks each with a fork end, one somewhat longer then the other, and a length of twine. "This might become a little uncomfortable," he warned. He had to keep the leg straight, set in the same place. Back in LA, he would have someone operate, most likely a resident, and reposition the muscular tissues. Here he only had luck on his side, hoping that the ligaments hadn't gotten too torn and twisted from the impact.

Danoso watched in semi-fascination as Jack positioned the sticks, the short one on the inside of her leg, the long running up the outside, along the hip, stopping around her midriff.

"Sawyer chopped the notches on the bottoms so that we could keep them stable," Jack explained, gently forcing Danoso to lie down. He took a thicker piece of rope and tied it around the longer stick, then positioned that so it would become secure around her waist.

"Move your leg as little as possible, the ligaments might shift if you jolt it. I don't want you leaving unless you need to use the bathroom. If you do, get someone to help you. After a couple days, we'll take these off and wrap something around your leg so its not as confined. Make sure you eat a lot of fish because you're going to need your ribosome's to create plenty of protein so your ligaments can reattach with each other." He explained this while tying the two sticks together with the twine, firmly but gently. Danoso had found Boone's hand somewhere along the way and was squeezing it every time Jack tightened a knot.

"Boone, do you have that cane I asked you to make?"

Boone stared at Jack; vaguely remembering making something that, despite all his hopes, looked nothing remotely like the sleek canes found in local drug marts. "Somewhere, but its kind of… loopy like."

"That's okay." He returned his attention to Danoso. "After about a week, I'm going to have you start walking a little bit. You're going to get someone to help you at first, then gradually, -gradually- work your leg so that you can walk just using the cane. What we don't want is the muscle tissue to reform and then get weak, but we also don't want to strain it enough to make it worse. A week should give it enough time." Jack finally looked up, done tying the odd contraption to her foot.

"You're not to walk on it until I say otherwise. Understood?" he stated firmly.

"Yeah, I get it, you don't have to worry about me." What ever Jack had done to her leg had worked. It stabilized her leg, making it stiff; unmovable even if she tried.

"I know, I just have a feeling that you'll change your mind once you've been stuck in here for a couple days." He'd seen too many restless people with boundless energy to know that Danoso would most likely disregard his warning and try to move around too soon.

"Mhmm," Danoso answered, wondering how long it would take her to go crazy. She was already going insane, knowing that she wouldn't be able to leave, sit up and much less walk around. This was going to suck. Boone got out of the cushioned bed and took Danoso in his arms. Although he was smaller then Jack or Sawyer, he held her body confidently, all 100 pounds of it.

"Lead the way," he said, laughing as she looked up at him annoyed.

"Oh, shut it."

TBC…

-LOST-

Cohen101

A/N: Just in case anyone was wondering, Jack and Kate's backgrounds are going to vary a little bit then they did in the show in the following chapters. R&R plz!

Thanks to all that reviewed the previous chapter!