On An Island
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty: Fate
The only sound was the soft lapping of the waves as the boat sailed towards the island and of their memories, playing in each of their minds and guiding them through the next step in their lives. Jack knew that was what he relied on to make decisions, memories ruled his subconscious mind. The memories were telling him to be cautious and alert, and he was becoming widely aware of his surroundings and future as he considered where Desmond could be taking them. He considered each possibility and anything that could be going on. Though they remained inside the dark lower deck of the sailboat, surrounded by furniture that was nailed to the ground and signs of their former lives- books and newspapers- he was already back on the island. He didn't need another trauma to tell them there needed to be a change in his lifestyle, and what he was doing was planning his future, right then and there. He knew he was a different person, had to be, who couldn't trust anyone...his natural sympathy towards others had to change. His past and present had to become two different time periods: life operated differently on the island.
But what troubled him, cowering amongst his thoughts, was the question whose answer he feared the most: would he be like this forever? Even if they got rescued, would he still be this paranoid, unsympathetic person? Living quietly in the shadows, never offering trust or a hint of what was going on in his mind. If past and present could separate, could past and future? Everything they'd been through...could there really be a world where none of it would matter? Where they could move on? He glanced towards Kate. She sat staring at the ground, eyes fixed on the floorboards of the sailboat. He wondered if she was thinking of the same things as he: their future and what their life would be like now. Or maybe not. After all, she seemed to trust Desmond. That's what bothered him. If he didn't know Desmond from his past, he wouldn't have trusted him. He wasn't sure if he did now. Three years...so much could change after three years. There was that Dharma suite he was wearing, and his sailboat worked fine. It bothered him that Kate seemed to so easily trust him and that it was so much easier for her to trust people.
"Do you trust him?" He asked. He had to know.
Kate looked up, confused as he shook her from her thoughts. Then her eyes traveled away from him, towards distractions that could hide her true answer. She didn't want him to know the truth.
"Kate, if there's anything going on..." a theory: that this could all be a trap, "you can tell me."
He lowered his voice and leaned closer towards her, encouraging her to tell the truth.
"If someone's making you do something or-"
"It's not like that," Kate replied, "I trust him."
There was no hesitation, only the reluctance to admit this to him. He sat back, his injured arm twitching in pain. Holding a hand to his arm, his mouth fell open in surprise at Kate's answer. Confusion.
"How can you?" Jack said. "After all we've been through, how can you trust anyone on this island?"
He didn't. He knew he didn't trust anyone- except Kate. Now even that seemed like a mistake. If she was going to use her trust so carelessly, if none of what happened affected her, then why should she be a part of his future? She would always disagree with him, always try to turn him away from his beliefs. She would say she was 'saving' him. Hearing her say she trusted Desmond made him feel alienated...like no one understood him.
"I trust you," Kate whispered, wounded by his accusation. She stared at him, as though wondering the exact opposite: how could he not trust anyone? "You can't live like this, Jack. You can't not trust anyone...what about when we get rescued? If you can never trust anyone...you're making living on this island more difficult than it should be."
"It is difficult," Jack said, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. It was too difficult. It was like he had died in the crash and had been sent to his own personal Hell. Only, Kate was there. Maybe there to save him, if he let her. But he couldn't do this. He had changed.
"You can't let this effect you," Kate said, determination as well as comfort in her voice. His eyes remained closed as he listened to her words, wondering if he could ever follow her suggestions. "You've got to move on or you'll just-"
"Fail?" Jack said, abruptly and brutally cutting her off. His eyes snapped open; he glared at the wall beside him. "I've heard this lecture before." How could he not recognize it, the words that were preached to him as a child? So much was expected of him at such a young age, when all he was looking for was an explanation. Reasons why people had to be so cold and why emotions could never be expressed, why life always had to move on. He still didn't understand.
"We just need to be able to move on," Kate said, a soft smile of sympathy on her face, "so we can survive this place."
"You act like you've been through this before," Jack commented. He didn't want to admit he was considering her philosophy. It made sense, to leave everything behind and move forward. It was even a nice dream, to be able to live without the burden of the past. But that didn't seem like a real possibility.
"I have," Kate stated, "we've been through a lot..."
He understood. They had been through a lot, and Kate must have learned by now how to deal with it all. Really, he was mostly angry. He hated that he had to deal with this, that all of this had happened to them. He didn't know how to deal with that anger. It only got in the way, coming to mind when he had to made a decision or every time he saw one of Them. Every time he tried to move on, he would only remember what they'd been through, and it would seem as though he was denying himself something. Like it was an offense to himself if he let go of the past.
"Do you think you're being punished?" Kate asked suddenly.
The idea was intriguing. He looked at her. There was a different light in her eyes, more of a darkness. A shadow of guilt, hesitation to bring up the question, but being anxious to ask. It was something that had bothered her for a long time.
"That everything that's happened...that we survived the crash," her eyes danced in a haunted gaze around him, "because we needed to be punished."
He stared at her, horrified. The theory made sense. Whatever crime Kate committed in the past, what he had done to his father. They were stranded here because they needed to be punished. So many horrible things had happened to them to teach them a lesson, and those horrible things would continue to happen.
"I don't know," Jack said, shaking his head. His eyes were wide, his voice and movements stiff. What a real possibility. Terrifically real. "I'm sure..." he swallowed. He wanted to comfort her, because he didn't want her to think that was true, that she needed to be punished. Everyone deserved a second change. Perhaps they had been foolish enough to believe that's why they were there. But the theory seemed too plausible. He felt sick, he was afraid. Some higher force was conducting their lives, writing the greatest horror story ever for them to suffer through. They couldn't fight it. They had already fallen victim; they were suffering and...it never stopped.
Momentarily he left his thoughts to notice Kate was looking at the ground. She looked up briefly, meeting his eyes. Tears were in them. She was just as afraid as he was. This suffering they had in common suddenly brought them so close together, to an unspoken understanding that they were the same. From the beginning, they were meant to find each other and suffer through these catastrophes. They had each other to save themselves, but was it useless? No matter what they did, would life always be this way?
"What did you do?" She whispered, tears in her eyes and voice so fragile and broken. "What did you do that was so bad..."
"I betrayed someone," he didn't hesitate to tell her; she would understood, "I thought I wasn't doing what was right..."
"I thought I was doing what was right too," she said.
Tears quenched a sad smile, falling gently over her lips and hugging her emotions; they comforted her. He felt moisture in his own eyes, his own desperate need to be comforted. They were alone now, two tainted souls that had to repay sins they never thought they would have to repay. They fixed what they thought needed to be fixed, but it was one wrong decision that would haunt both of their lives forever.
He wondered if he should hug her, reassure her that all hope wasn't lost, but he wondered if it would mean anything. For that moment they would be safe...it was them against the world. He contemplated the hug until the debate became violent. He trembled madly, his head shaking in small, sharp turns. Arguments shifted his mind until he drove himself to a helpless defeat. He felt his back hit the wall as he collapsed into a corner, hiding in the shadows from the evil of the world. They could hide here forever, letting themselves be arrested in the dim light of the lower deck of this ship, a twisted irony as they drifted through this world that hated them. A very twisted irony, because he wondered, what if they left? What would happen if they went home? Would they be allowed to? Would this evil follow them there?
"Why can't we go home?" He asked. To him the question brought light, a light bulb that should have turned on moments ago.
Kate looked at him, but her reaction wasn't what he'd hoped. Lines of sympathy curled into the bruises on her face, sadness had become trapped in her eyes.
"Because..." she bit her lip. New tears formed in her eyes. She couldn't tell him. That's how bad the reason was. She looked away, grimacing as she couldn't confess. Lips pursed together, tears blinking in her eyes. Eyes closing tightly but tears still slipping through. Eyes reopening, tears filling them as though she'd been staring at the rain. "Desmond won't...we hardly have any food or water. I can...I can talk to him."
But he wanted an explanation for her original reaction. The tears, the heartbreak at hearing the question asked. Was the thought of going home that much of a delicate topic?
"I can, I'll ask him." She stood up. Already hiding her tears. Wiping her eyes, quick breaths as she regained control of her emotions. Soon the moment would be forgotten. He recognized this moment. A time of shared emotions and confession, only to end abruptly and never be spoken of again, leaving him to wonder if she even remembered the conversation.
"Kate," he began, wishing she'd sit down. He didn't want the conversation to end. He wanted to figure out a solution...if going home was the answer or could be. That's what she was going to find out, but after spending so long trapped in this moment of confession he didn't feel ready to leave.
But she seemed desperate to leave, to forget. She ran from him. Again. Fleeing up the stairs, hiding her tears and ashamed of everything she had said to him she disappeared. He knew these moments too well, when the people he cared about opened up to him and he could open up to them. What he hated was, he'd have to wait for another moment like this for that to happen again.
----
She let the fresh air soothe her as she leaned against the railing of the ship, gazing down at the passing ocean below her. She watched, fascinated by boat's ability to float over the life underneath them and the fact that there was a life underneath them- a whole different world of problems. A school of fish fluttered by, basking in the current from the sailboat. Maybe there were no problems down there. The fish remained together, fighting the water that threatened to tear them apart. Tomorrow that same school of fish would be alive, together.
Her mind turned away from the fish. He was so willing to give up, so willing to become this being who revolved around the world, letting anything that effected him influence him. When she discovered her second chance Kate fought to let go of that quality, attempted to let go of her past. She didn't want to tell Jack that didn't work. But they could always try. She didn't want to live like this, she didn't want any more memories that would haunt her and send her bursting awake night after night, trembling in fear. Maybe Jack was right. They could go home, be free of this. Even if it would tear them apart running seemed like a nice idea: getting to be someone else, if she didn't like a place she could leave. That was how she dealt with these kind of experiences in the past, she ran. Ran so fast to attempt to leave the memories behind. It didn't work, he had to know it didn't work. But she had no other ideas, and they had to get away from this place, no matter what the reason was. It wasn't safe for them. They were powerless here; to survive they had to fight, and how long would their strength last?
"Can we go home?" Her voice sounding muffled against the ocean's breeze. She wondered if Desmond even heard her; she sounded so distant, as though she were talking to herself.
"Yes."
The reply came slowly, in pleasant realization and she knew he was smiling. Carefully she turned, preparing herself for disappointment. She had been imagining things, or there was some kind of catch. But Desmond was grinning, the wide smile shifting his face into a beam of relief and hope.
"I was just thinking," she began, "we're on a boat, why not just-"
"I know," Desmond said, "I want to go home."
Memories danced in his eyes as he smiled at the idea of being home, being back with those memories. She wondered how he had dealt with it, being trapped here with his past, stripped of his freedom and even his identity. He had been told to put on a uniform and press a button every 108 minutes. How had his mind survived, when so many memories must have lived inside?
"I told Jack we didn't have any food," she said. Unfortuently it was a valid point. "Hardly any water."
"Then we'll go back to the island," Desmond said, his lightened tone told her not to have any doubts, "we'll set sail tomorrow."
She stared at him. This was it. They could go home. They could move on without still worrying about the Others or the island. Suddenly it seemed unreal...they could just sail away.
"Okay," she said, disbelief unwinding a smile across her face, "I'll tell Jack."
Coming to the upper deck had been a means of escape to satisfy a desperate need to be away from the darkness and inescapable warmth of the lower deck. She had needed to run, because the moment became too vulnerable. She had actually broken down in front of them, had actually admitted her fears and hinted at her past, only a step away from telling the complete truth. Everything she had worked for, to shelter him from her past, would have been ruined. But now she race down the stairs and into the lower deck, soaring in grateful relief at the news she had to deliver.
The floor creaked beneath her as she stepped into the room, peaking ahead to see what she was walking into. Jack was on the cot, curled into a half-moon shape, turned towards her as to not lay on his injured arm. He was asleep. She let him sleep, he needed the rest, but she didn't leave. Carefully she walked towards where she had sat before, confessing her soul so openly, so possessed by emotion. She didn't sit in the exact same spot; she hadn't returned for that same reason. They had true hope now, they would be home soon.
She watched him as he slept, wondering what life was like where he would go back to. He would be a celebrity, meeting more people who cared about him than he could imagine. She wondered if he had ever exaggerated his past in order to connect with her, so she wouldn't feel alone amongst those who had a blessed lifestyle. But when she asked him what he had done, so suddenly stepping over the line that had been drawn between past and present, his reaction couldn't have been rehearsed. She might never know what triggered such a reaction, not unless she caught a glimpse of response on a newspaper headline. An article she wouldn't read. It would only be a sign that the island had followed him home. No matter how much they tried to run, she realized, they wouldn't be able to forget.
A familiar moist touched her eye as a tear shimmered there. They would never forget. They would never be able to forget each other or the world they left, they would only be trapped in this new world, one that wouldn't understand what they went through. Suddenly she dreaded rescue. She would have to leave him, and she would be alone too. Going home might be the furthest from moving on they would ever be. But she was afraid to break that to him, because he wanted to go home. He should be at home. Maybe if she never told him he would never realize this. Or maybe she was hurting him more than she ever had before.
She remembered the smile on Desmond's face at the idea of rescue. She thought of living on the island forever, hiding from the Others and remaining missing from the world that wanted to find them. Her for being a criminal, them because they had families and loved ones that missed them. Even if Jack claimed to be living this life alone, with no one who really cared about him, there had to be some that did. He had a career, and then there was Desmond's life, she didn't even know what kind of family and friends he had. If they stayed here, would they be able to move on? She closed her eyes. She saw her living with Jack on the island forever, having created a distant relationship that barely allowed them to talk to each other, so shaken by the past they struggled to live in the future. She saw him back home, going through the same thing alone, but he was safe there.
----
He struggled to emerge from sleep. Rest felt so relieving. But he knew he couldn't be gone for too long...Kate had yet to answer him. Were they going home? Questions plagued his mind as soon as his eyes fluttered open and he remembered where he was. No sunlight greeted him; he was in a room, but he could open the door. No longer being in captivity was like being able to breathe after holding your breath for so long. Though he wasn't entirely safe, could never be free from the dangers of the island, for that moment, when he woke up, he realized he was close enough to safety to feel safe.
He watched as his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room. Everything was so serene, so silent and sympathetic. His eyes landed on Kate and their last conversation rushed back to him. He was back in reality, where the world was literally against him. And her...it was the closest to a confession he had gotten with her. She betrayed someone too. He felt they could relate to each other more than ever. Him and Kate, two victims of fate's cruel game. They were here to suffer together, being together being the one sympathetic aspect of this game.
Kate twitched in her sleep, eyes contorting into pain as she shifted from dream to reality. Her arms reached out, grabbing for something- or someone- and then fell to the ground. He studied her as she awoke, considering how close fate was bringing them. So close they were almost as one, one force against fate. Their past would come together as their presents struggled against the binds confiding them to this Hell. He regretted that she was waking up, he realized. Go back to sleep, he wanted to tell her. Because at least there the nightmares weren't real.
But she was awake and staring at him, eyebrows curling in curiosity. He looked away; he was making her feel uncomfortable. She shifted from where she was sitting, he heard her stiff moments as she fully awoke from sleep. He wondered what he should say, if he should bring up their earlier conversation. Or should it be left to dwell in the misty heavens of previous conversation, waiting to be called upon when the time was ready? A lingering pain in his arm stung his skin, as though reminding him to make up his mind.
"Where are we going?" His face remained straight, but inside he winced. Why did that have to be the first thing he said? But it was another issue on his mind, one perhaps easier to bring to surface. "I want to know before we get there."
Her eyes fixed on him, she warned him. He didn't want to know, he should listen to her and wait. She didn't want to tell. But she understood his curiosity.
"When Desmond crashed here a man found him on the shore and took him to this place..." she stopped, her voice echoing as her rapid reply became calm, "they took him to a hatch."
"'Hatch'?" He repeated. He was confused, but not completely shocked. After all, earlier he had been held captive in an abandoned hospital. What struck him the most was the endless possibilities; it scared him.
"It's an apartment, Jack."
Her voice carried her words in a tone of disbelief, of amazed disbelief. Her face lit up in a child-like glow, like she just discovered a treasure map or the possibility of real magic. The island brought endless possibilities. It was no longer the empty land they'd crashed on, becoming a temporary home to keep them company at night. With the first appearance of the monster and every new person they found, it was rapidly becoming their own tale of adventure. They were two kids in a book or series, following an addicting journey the reader studied closely, wide eyed and in delight. But there was something those books failed to mention, because it was too risky to open the children reading to such a world: of terror and everything they felt during these adventures...dangerous emotions that would frighten away a child looking for a bedtime story. Nevertheless, the story was still being told. It wasn't being read, but lived.
"With food and water and..." she trailed off, smile still pulling at her face even in her stunned appearance. "It's only for one night."
His eyes widened and he understood her excitement. She smiled a little more, offering the smile to him.
"We're going home," she explained, her voice threatening to break as disbelief and happiness mixed as one, "we need to go back for food and water, but this time tomorrow...we might be home."
His eyes darted away, gazing at the wall he was leaning on. They might be home this time tomorrow. Back in his old life, safe. He could go back to work...
It was wishful thinking. He glared at the wall, dread making him feel sick. Kate's theory had sunk too far into his mind...no way were they going to be able to leave. Just like that. As much as he wanted to, something would stop them. But at the same time...he felt like trying. He wanted to fight fate, fight for the life he wanted. He felt excitement stir inside of him, and he thought of everything he was missing out on in the real world. Politics and movies and music. His career and hearing people at work talk about the story of their lives.
"Do you wanna get some air?" Kate asked him.
The room was becoming warm, choking them with a need to step out into the world. He nodded. He put one foot on the ground and then the other; his arm hurt but he ignored the pain. Tomorrow he might have a cast on it, the bones could heal safely. He stood with a little difficulty, his muscles awakening as he walked for the first time in hours. Kate stood as well, approaching him with an arm outstretched, as though she were going to help him walk.
"I'm fine," he said. He was. He could walk, he could deal with any pain thrown towards him with the thought of going on home in his mind.
A small smile accepted his words and they walked towards the stairs. The steps led them closer towards the horizon as Jack lifted the hatch enclosing the room. A purple sky greeted them as it came closer into view, yellow and pink clouds passing by, glancing towards them with weary smiles. The air was calm, cool against the warmth of the room. The ocean sent a misty breeze across the sailboat; particles of salt flew around their eyes as they smiled, greeting Desmond.
"She told you, then?" Desmond asked. He was guiding the boat, looking tired but determined to get them to land. He sailed with his body leaning lazily forward, sleep tempting him as the sky grew darker.
"Yeah," Jack said, "we're going home."
Desmond grinned.
"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear those words, brother." Desmond's hand slipped, but he quickly replaced it in attempts to hide his exhaustion.
"Will we make it back before nightfall?" Jack asked, glancing worriedly to Desmond and then to dim sky.
"Yes," Desmond said; he suddenly seemed to become overtaken with exhaustion. He stopped talking, his eyes dropped to a close and then reopened. The process repeated a few times.
"Are you okay?" Kate asked.
"Fine," Desmond said. He smiled. "Just thinking...tomorrow I'll wake up in a real room. No hatch. No island."
Kate and Jack shared smiles.
"I read about your disappearance," Jack said.
"You did?" Desmond said with a shy grin.
"I was shocked..." Jack said, he trailed off, remembering. "I was lost for a while."
"You were, then?" Desmond asked. He seemed flattered. "Glad to see someone so effected by a stranger's tragedy."
Jack frowned. When they first saw each other on the boat, after escaping from the island, Desmond hadn't seemed too surprised to see him. He never mentioned their previous meeting, but Jack assumed that was because he'd stayed hidden in the lower deck. But he almost felt betrayed. Desmond's disappearance really had effected him. Watching the news, seeing Desmond's girlfriend in constant tears and frantic to find him. Cameras sneaking into the Widmore's lives, watching them every step of the way as Penelope Widmore searched for her missing boyfriend. He watched night after night, following their lives as well, eyes glued to the screen, never willing to leave until Desmond was found. But Desmond didn't even remember him.
"How's your arm?" Desmond asked him.
Snapping away from his thoughts, Jack captured the opportunity. That day at the stadium Jack had fallen and hurt his ankle. He could still hear the snap of the bone...a familiar sound, as he had also heard it twice now on the island.
"It's okay," Jack said. His wrist had swollen, the bruises that highlighted his skin in thick colors of black and blue shining even as the world around them darkened. "It hurts, but tomorrow I should be in the hospital...I can get a cast and all, in case the bone broke."
"You seem hopeful," Desmond teased. But his smile faded, and he stared at Jack's arm. "Broken bones..."
His eyes trailed to Jack's, realization dawning inside them. Jack smiled a little, but if Desmond noticed the irony he didn't show it.
"It's you!" Desmond exclaimed quietly.
"What's going on?" Kate demanded, glancing between himself and Desmond.
"I know you..." Desmond went on, "that day, at the stadium." He grinned. "You were trying to out run me."
An embarrassed smile crossed Jack's face.
"I can run faster," Jack said, "I just...had a lot on my mind."
Desmond's grin disappeared. Both of them thought back to that day, to that time in their lives.
"The girl," Desmond said, sounding more serious, "how is she?"
"What's going on?" Kate stepped in front of Jack, demanding attention and explanation. Her hands sat on her hips as she stared at him, confused, trying to read his distant expression.
He didn't answer her. Sarah...she was...she was married. He knew that. Happy. In a life without him. After so much effort had been put in to safe her...he had been so determined to save her. After she and her fiance broke up, Jack stepped in to help. He hadn't meant for their feelings to develop into something deeper; he hadn't meant to force himself to be there for her...he thought he wanted to be there for her. He did want to be there for her. But after her shouting and accusations, she'd convinced him to begin blaming himself. It made sense...he thought.
"I met him before," Jack replied, throat dry. He swallowed; he felt sick. "I had this patient...it was a tough case, a lot of decisions. I went for a run, that Tour de Stade I told you about. Desmond was there. I tripped, hurt my ankle, and he helped me." He met Kate's eyes, and he realize he looked too terrified for her to believe that was the whole story. But that was all he was ready to tell her. "That's all you need to know."
Jack turned away, staring vacantly out to sea, the ocean around him transparent in his mind. He was back in 2001. Unmarried, just a surgeon. His life had changed so much...feuds with his father, Desmond disappearing, marrying Sarah, Sarah leaving him, his father not talking to him, his father dying. The plane crash, the island, meeting Kate. Meeting Desmond again. His quiet life of 2001...he had so little to worry about, only his job and traditional issues with his family. He yearned for that time, of the quiet tranquility of his life, when he could go back and fix his mistakes. He thought of living in an easier world, where he wouldn't bare the burden of the memories he had. The ocean continued to pass by him. The world continued to move and he still had the memories.
"Jack?" Kate said. She didn't sound angry, more calm and approachable.
" I just..." he stopped. Or maybe he wasn't ready to talk. "You wouldn't understand."
"Try me," Kate said. Her eyes danced around him, encouraging him to open up to her. And he wanted to. But he wanted to seem like he had some strength...like every part of his life wasn't a failure. He didn't want to admit that.
"We're almost there," Desmond announced.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kate offer Desmond a smile, but she turned back to Jack, serious and concerned. But all at once, he didn't feel her staring at him. She disappeared. The ocean, the boat, all of it disappeared.
He knocked on Gordy's door. Three, strong knocks managing to form from trembling hands. He stared at his fist and opened his hand. He wondered how well he'd do in a fight against these guys. The pain in his face answered him. He should be at home, or in a hospital...he would go, but now there was something he had to do. Something he had to do before he had a night to rest on the idea. Gordy opened the door.
"You again," Gordy sighed, "unfortuently, you came back." He looked behind him, inside the dark house. "Look, one of the guys had to go home, the game's over, I'm going to bed so please do me a favor and go home."
"You need another guy?" Jack said. His voice was strong, but inside he was shaking. He hoped Gordy couldn't see through him as the man studied him, as if he qualified for the position.
"You play poker?" Gordy asked.
"Yeah," Jack replied.
"You any good?"
"Yeah."
Gordy sighed again and looked back inside the house, hesitant; Jack felt his inside freeze as he waited for a reply. His heart pounded loudly...mentally he told it to be quiet, to keep calm and he could get through this.
"Okay, come in."
He opened the door, and Jack stepped inside the house. Some guys were sitting on leather couches, a couple with beers in their hands, one shuffling a deck of cards in his hands, focusing on carefully shuffling the pack.
"Game's back on," Gordy announced.
The guys stared at them.
"Him?" A man asked. Jack recognized him as the one who had answered the door earlier. His eyes were blood-shot, as though he had been up for too many hours.
"Yeah," Gordy replied sharply, "him."
The man looked around at the others, who shrugged. They stood up, and Jack watched as they took their seats at the table. Jack waited a minute and then followed, taking the empty chair. Anxiety shook his nerves, he wondered if they could see how afraid he was. But if this was the only way he could help Sarah, then this is what he had to do. The man who had been shuffling the cards earlier shuffled them again before dealing them with grace; too quickly for Jack's liking. He felt as though he had just made the decision to play, and the game had already begun.
Suddenly he could feel Kate staring at him. There was so much to tell her. How he had a determination to help people, and how that determination had historically been possibly been mistaken for love. How he'd been raised to never fail and, to this day, made that one of his personal goals. Only, it was a goal he continuously failed to meet. It was so ironic it disgusted him. Helping her in any way always seemed so hypocritical to him, because he would sit there, saying these words when they didn't even apply to him. He wasn't as better than her as she may think.
"We're here," Desmond said.
He would never get a chance to tell her. Not now. Right now he had to come back to the real world, suffer for merely hours. Then he would be home.
----
Everything was so surreal. He was sitting on a couch. On an island. Above where he sat they had hiked, had fled from danger, had fallen into danger. Underneath was an apartment, a safety zone. With water, showers. Food. He hadn't seen food yet, but there was a rumor it was there. Now he was waiting for Kate, who was going to help him wrap his wrist in bandages. The hatch seemed to have an endless supply of medicine and supplies. Everything necessary to survive on an island.
"Okay," Kate's voice floating in the room. He felt the cushions shift as she sat down beside him.
She reached for his injured hand; he let her take it. Her fingers gently brushed his bruise skin, her hand carefully holding his, supporting the bone that actually felt weightless. Mouth ajar, focused on her task, Kate began to wrap his wrist. He watched as the bruises disappeared, laid to rest under the bandages. No one talked, he didn't move. He realized how easy it was to trust her; how easy it had always been. He would miss that, having someone to trust. Someone who cared...he wondered if his disappearance had changed the minds of those back home, those who had previously stopped talking to him or betrayed them. Kate wouldn't be there. The realization hit him hard. He'd always known that, that she'd have to run if they were rescued, but he never really considered it. He wanted nothing more than to be away from the island, but being away from her...he still hadn't sorted out his feelings yet. Was he in love? Or was he just so grateful for a friend the friendship had become deeper than he was used to?
"I need to ask you a favor," Kate said. Her voice was barely over a whisper. She was blinking away tears. His wrist was almost wrapped, already feeling like it could heal. But her tone...he began to panic. There was something she didn't want to tell him, something he didn't want to hear. "When we get back, tell them I died."
"What?" His stomach seemed to fall, his throat fell dry. His head spun with confusion and dread.
"Please, Jack," Kate said. She finished wrapping his wrist, but she still held onto his arm. "You have to tell them I died. Taking someone's identity, it's not fair. How would you explain that to them? Please...you have to tell them."
"Okay."
He looked up, surprised at his reply. His eyes met her. She stared, because she had expected a fight, an argument ending in tears. But he didn't want that. This could be one of their last conversation. She made sense...he wanted to do what he could for her. She offered him a smile, but tears were winning her over.
"I'll miss you," she whispered, voice breaking. He swallowed, his own emotions overwhelming him. He never had to say a good- bye before. He had either been left or the person had passed away. His last conversations had always been full of anger, harsh words and tears. He didn't know how to say good-bye.
"I'll miss you too," he replied, his voice soft and trembling. Suddenly they were leaning closer towards each other, he found his eyes nearly inches from hers, her lips on the verge of kissing him. He could feel her breath, skipping in soft beats as she fought away tears, her wanting to kiss him one last time...but this time she had no choice, she would have to run. He pulled away. The movement was sharp, cold. He looked away, then looked back, down to the bandages on his hand. "If we get rescued...we'll never see each other again."
Biting her lip she nodded. She closed her eyes; tears were falling from them and he watched as each teardrop fell through her closed eyelids, landing on her face and sinking towards her chin. He didn't know what to say...how to say good-bye.
She stood.
"We should get some sleep," she said. Her eyes were wet. Her voice fought to come above a whisper.
He stood.
"Take the couch," he offered, "there's a chair in that room...with the albums."
She nodded; neither had the strength to fight. He stepped away as she sat down again, eyes to the floor, avoiding the truth and the final good-bye the would have to say.
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
They could say good-bye tomorrow.
----
Those moments before waking up were so curious, how afterwards, after being woken, it felt as if you knew your eyes were opening. Or someone was waking you up.
Someone was shaking him. A voice called his name. Jack stared at the darkness as he rose from his sleep, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to figure out what was going on. At last he opened his eyes, a dim light greeting him, someone standing in front of him. Kate. She looked afraid, shocked.
"Desmond's gone."
Author's Note: Thanks for reading, and thanks for reviewing!
Until next time...
October Sky