On An Island

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One: Hope

He could hear Kate chasing after him as they tore through the jungle, ripping through the fresh air and forest and feeling slightly unwanted. Being outside was a risk, but Jack had to stop him. The ground disappeared beneath him as he raced through the jungle, and Jack remembered that day at the stadium; he admitted that he had been consciously hoping to prove himself the better athlete than Desmond, and now he found himself playing the same game. But an empty shore and innocent ocean greeted them when he reached where the sailboat should be. He stopped, stunned with rage and denial, still staring at the empty ocean in silence when Kate came to a stop behind him.

"Jack," she began, voicing the concern he knew she would have. She must know, by now, how he reacted to these kinds of situations, how he hated being betrayed and disappointed, hated losing hope over and over again. He ignored her and took off down the beach, away from the jungle. He didn't know exactly what he was planning...the most logical idea he had was to find the sailboat, swim to it, climb aboard, attack Desmond, take control of the boat, go home...

The island could conjure cruelty like no other place he had been. To dangle rescue so closely to them, for hope to not tempt them, but provide evidence that lifted their spirits, their hope, and then it all was taken away...he hated it. He hated this island and the madness that controlled its victims, and he wished for nothing more to destroy it. And to do that, he would have to catch up with the boat. He would have to beat fate, or whatever authority was mistreating them.

Wind built up around him like a barrier, making it more difficult to run the faster he went. It even caused pain: it felt like the bones in his injured wrist had been strung in mid-air, gravity pulling down on them as hard as possible. But still he ran, ignoring the pain, ignoring the sound of Kate's footsteps catching up to him. She was fast, but he was faster. He was making himself out to be a good fugitive, he thought, the role fell into him naturally.

But he couldn't find the sailboat. He was far away from where he'd appeared from the jungle, and the sailboat was no where in sight. Desmond could have left hours ago, he thought miserably. Jack finally began to slow down, only to retreat away from the shore, stumbling backwards with a hand over his eyes, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of the sailboat. Nothing but endless sea stood in his realm of vision.

"I'm sorry," Kate said. He wondered if the words remained close to her conscious, ready to be pulled instantly after so much experience. He did not accept her sympathy, but instead revealed his own feelings that were ready to surface.

"I'll kill him!" Jack exclaimed, punching the air and appearing as though he were fighting oxygen.

"Jack," Kate said, sympathy remaining steady. She reached out for him, but he jerked away, stumbling further from the sea.

"I'll kill him!"

He wasn't subconsciously making plans to murder Desmond, he was really only looking for a way to release his anger. He didn't feel as though he should continue to hold back. He wasn't even really mad at Desmond, because he sensed something greater was at play: the force that was keeping them on the island. Someone else was getting to go home...he should be on that boat...

"Don't talk like that!" Kate said, desperately searching for a way to calm him down.

But his anger was too much. Rage turned his skin a furious blood-red as his mind exploded with thoughts of anger. The roaring feeling of hatred felt so alive within him, so alive that Jack really felt like he could do something about it. Revenge...the word whirled into his conscious like it was trapped on a rapid river, and it had just found a way to shore.

"We need to get back."

Now he sensed something else in Kate's voice, a fear so undetectable that he wasn't sure if it was for him or something else. That didn't matter now. What mattered now was that he stood here, on this shore, free from the captors who had so desperately tried to capture his mind and manipulate him to answer their wishes. He felt as though he stood here for a purpose. Revenge...

"Jack!"

His name bounced off the waves crashing in front of him like a shrill echoing from a mountain. The ocean appeared so angry, so less innocent than before, as though to answer his thoughts. The sea understood, the sea agreed with him.

"They'll be looking for us!" Kate said.

The fragile hope left within him said that no, they would be searching the other island. Unless Ethan saw the sailboat...had the canoe been left behind? Thoughts of their safety calmed his anger. Jack felt his breathing slow to a normal pace, his mind seemed to deflate to a healthier level of thought. However, the relief was only momentary and suddenly concern was taking anger's place. But he didn't want to quit thinking about revenge. Thinking about fighting back, fighting for everything him and Kate had been through, brought Jack a sense of dignity that had felt missing before. He could control their futures, he could fight back. Those thoughts would simply have to wait, just a little longer.

----

Kate entered the hatch with perhaps more excitement than he at the thought of being somewhere safe. Either she felt as though he shouldn't hear her opinions or maybe she really didn't have any, but she hadn't spoken to him since he agreed to go back to the hatch. From the moment she burst through the door Kate headed straight for the room furthest from them, and Jack suddenly understood.

"This is why you wanted to come back?" Jack announced, furious: she returned to press the button, not for fear of their safety.

"Every 108 minutes," Kate reminded him, she was already beginning to type in the numbers, "or else-"

He rushed forward, grabbing her hand. The number 16 lingered on the screen, blinking at them as it waited for its companions. Her eyes turned cold at the sight of his hand on her arm and then her look softened into something more like hurt as she looked up at him.

"Or else what?" He demanded, a hint of disgust in his voice; he already didn't believe whatever story she had, because it just couldn't be true.

"Or else the world ends," Kate replied, jerking her arm away from his. As his fingers left her and Jack was left clutching empty air, a reminder that he was going a little too far with his anger, she turned away from him, brushing off the previous moment. Blowing hair away from her eyes with a frustrated sigh, Kate's hands fell again to the keyboard.

"You really believe this?" Jack said, watching Kate as the numbers 23 and 42 appeared in the corners of his eyes. "That something will happen if you don't push this button?"

"I don't think Desmond would have been down here for who knows how long and pushed this button for no reason," Kate replied, glancing towards Jack, acting as though she was offended by his question, "so, yeah, I believe it."

Jack stared at her in disbelief, not necessarily because of her beliefs, but at her willingness to oblige with such a task. Did she hate the island as much as he did? And how did this computer save the world? But he had to act fast, because her finger was just over the 'execute' button. They had seen so much on this island that was his evidence for his opinion. Or, he realized, he had seen...

"It wasn't real," Jack said suddenly, as this idea fell upon him. He realized he hadn't told Kate yet, and that she did deserve to know. She looked at him in confusion. "The person in that medical hatch, the one they tried to get you to save-" remorse flashed across Kate's face as she looked to the ground, "that person wasn't real, not even human."

Kate looked back up at him, and he knew she wanted this to be true. It was something they had had in common, the feeling of complete guilt over losing a patient- though Jack had never blamed Kate for the loss. The knowledge the surgery was a mind game made his hatred grow even more. They tried playing with his emotions, his guilt...her emotions and her guilt.

"What are you talking about?" Kate inquired darkly, her voice shaking slightly.

"Ben showed me," Jack explained, "the body wasn't human. No one died, Kate."

She looked away. He was certain she believed him, that she was considering the possibility that this, too, might be a mind game. He was sorry he had to associate such a horrible even to a moment like this, but wouldn't let them fall victim to more lies. There would be no more mind games. Never again would the Others hurt them.

From somewhere above an alarm began to screech. Jack's heart rate jumped, but his eyes remained on Kate. The alarm was part of the game, he told himself, it wasn't real.

"I can't take the chance," Kate said quietly, still not looking at him. His hope fell, and Jack feared the pit of disappointment and hurt would be where it would remain. Kate's finger began falling towards the 'execute' button.

"Fine," Jack said; maybe his leaving would convince her. Turning abruptly, he left the room.

A woman's voice warned him as he walked away, announcing something about a system failure, all the while the alarm screaming with all its might. Jack ignored it all; he expected Kate to be following him any second. They would get out of here, go some place that wasn't as directly connected to the Others.

"Don't go!" Kate shouted suddenly, as though an idea had come across her. He listened. "If you think nothing's going to happen, then stay."

Jack's eyes danced around the spot on the floor he was staring at as he thought. No, that's what they would want him to do. Stay and be afraid...he continued to walk towards the door.

"Jack!"

But he ignored her, and soon her voice was engulfed by the woman's voice of warning and the alarm. He stepped into the jungle and shut the door behind him, eyes to the ground as he walked. He wasn't sure where he would go because Kate had been right about one thing: the Others would be looking for them, and possibly on this island. He wouldn't go back to camp; he kept walking straight into the jungle, opposite that direction.

Worry hit him before he could boast about his faith of his beliefs. What if he was wrong? What if Kate was in danger? But his feet wouldn't stop walking, because part of him still insisted this was just another game. He couldn't let the Others continue to make them feel afraid. The frantic cries of the alarm rang in his mind even as Jack distanced himself from the hatch, and Jack walked further with the thought they would eventually go away. But with every step the fear was overwhelming, because if he was wrong...

Jack slowed to a stop and looked around to see where he was, but this part of the jungle seemed the same as near the hatch. He walked forward, suddenly cautious to all that could be around him.

Up ahead was a clearing, peaking out through the trees. But the clearing wasn't empty. As Jack approached it, he noticed first a dirt-covered wall nearby, and then shadows exposed something hanging over it. He couldn't believe what the shadows drew, and slowly turned his head towards the sky. Surely enough, a plane balanced on the side of the cliff. In shock, Jack stumbled backwards a few steps. They had yet to come across any other modes of transportation on the island, aside from the sailboat. The plane wasn't as large as the Oceanic one was, and Jack soon recognized it as a beech-craft. A beech-craft that had carried someone to this island, or whether, crashed here. There would be supplies in there, possibly a radio that still worked. Perhaps foolishly, Jack let hope raise quickly within him and encourage him to climb up to the plane.

Pain in his wrist resurfaced, burning with each grasp to the rocks above him. But he didn't stop; it would be worth it, if they could find rescue. Fighting pain Jack climbed until he found himself across from the beech-craft. He could look inside. With his good hand clinging to a vine, Jack peered inside the plane. The sight of a skeleton made him jump, and he grasped the vine more tightly. He tried to ignore the skeleton and his eyes searched for a radio, which would lie in a compartment of the plane he could hardly see. If only he could go inside, but his weight might disturb the plane's balance. He would fall, the plane crashing with him. He could die...

He slipped, and Jack gasped in surprise, now swinging his other hand around to hold onto the vine. He looked up; the vine was beginning to rip. Wrist screaming in pain, defeat echoing in his mind, Jack knew he would have to climb back down. The ground below suddenly seemed so far away. Jack recognized this feeling: panic. But something else caught his eye just then...a circle that was carved into the ground, or at least that's what it looked like from here. This new discovery poked at his curiosity, and soon Jack was on the ground again, stepping towards what he saw was a door. A hatch.

He tugged on the handle until it squeaked and then opened. Darkness was revealed as he pulled the door away from the ground, and Jack fell to the ground to get a better look. A ladder stood against circular walls, inviting him down. In the sunlight he could see the trip wouldn't be very far. He looked behind him, back towards the hatch. Kate probably pushed the button by now, Jack thought, she would be fine. He began to climb down.

If it wasn't for the sun he wouldn't have been able to see much: there didn't seem to be any source of light down here. Jack hopped down to the floor below, and saw he didn't have to search far for further directions. The entrance gave away into a short hallway nearby, a path Jack took while taking out a gun that was with him. The weapon guided him into a small room, also circular. He stopped as soon as he saw what was inside.

Televisions lined the wall ahead. They were older models, like the computer in the hatch; there were nine of them. Eyes fixed on his reflection in the screen, Jack approached one of the controls. He turned it clockwise: the familiar sound of a television coming to life whispered in the room, but there was no picture. Jack stood transfixed as he continued turning the controls, curiosity prickling at his skin.

Then he was no longer staring at his reflection. A picture was beginning to come into view; a room. A room...with a couch, he saw. And a Ping-Pong table. And...a sickening realization came over him. He was staring at the hatch he had just left, the one Kate was in now. Someone had placed cameras in it, maybe in other rooms too. There were so many televisions...

Again he met rage, and the anger roared through him almost uncontrollably, but yet so controlled, because he was completely conscious of it. Without hesitating Jack thrust the gun towards the screen, watching as it broke away in, at first, tiny cracks. The room was disappearing, the screen was becoming nothing but white snow. The gun crashed into it, and with every swing Jack felt the satisfying sense of revenge. Never again could the Others hurt them, Jack had vowed earlier, and he would always keep that promise. He thought of all they had done, everything that had happened to them on the island. Now the screen with the room was almost a hole, and Jack moved on to the next screen.

"I can't," Sarah whispered, her voice full of pain and disbelief. "I can't take the money Jack."

"Please," Jack pleaded, as he had done so many times before, "I'm here, offering you this. I want you and your husband to be safe."

Pain fell in his voice as he said 'husband', but the longer he stayed here, in her house, with her new furniture and television and piano and husband...accepting the facts was as hard as ever, but as reluctant as he was to accept reality, in hopes that things could still change, Jack knew the present was remaining the same.

David lay beside him on the couch. His injuries and health were increasingly becoming better, and Jack knew they would no longer need his assistance. David watched them as his wife fought with her ex-husband. Jack wondered if he found it surprising that he was offering to help them.

"Jack..."

Jack left the poker game that night with money that could turn any family's financial troubles into something less stressful, but he didn't think for once of keeping the money for himself. He only thought of Sarah and David, and these people who were threatening to hurt them.

"Please," Jack said again, looking into Sarah's eyes. He may never look into her eyes again...going back home may mean this was the last time he would ever see her.

But maybe they could fix things. They could be friends, not be so distant. Maybe she wouldn't ignore him anymore, like their two years together meant nothing. Like it hadn't even happened. He had only ever loved her, he wished she would understand that.

"Okay," Sarah whispered. Tears tumbled gently down her cheeks as she managed a small smile.

Jack smiled back, relieved. The thought of helping her and the knowledge that she and her husband would be safe brought a joy to him that made his smile linger, and he almost regretted having to leave so soon. Stepping away from each other, he saw Sarah's eyes catching glimpse of the case of money that lay on the floor.

"Thank you," she said, voice breaking through tears; he sensed they weren't so much tears of sadness but of happiness and relief, "thank you, Jack."

He could only smile. He didn't want anything in return, nothing except the knowledge that she and her husband were safe and possibly the chance to start over, become friends.

Jack stared at the lifeless televisions as he leaned against the wall, catching his breath. He was hardly conscious of the pain in his injured wrist, but gazed at the destruction he had caused with nothing but satisfaction and pride. They were safe now; the idea of being free from any contact with the Others felt like fact in his mind. They were safe.

----

As he walked back to the hatch Jack's mind felt lighter; he could now think without the constant anger. He realized now that the morning was cool, maybe it would rain later, and the sun's greeting didn't make him want to run back to shelter. It was a moment one could appreciate and a feeling he embraced. Moving on was even a possibility in his mind: he and Kate could get this whole button thing sorted out, and they could begin to go on with their lives, without worry of being kidnapped. He could admit that vandalizing someone's property like that wasn't something he would suggest someone else do, and he wished there had been another way for him to know they were safe.

What would happen now? Would they live in the hatch, simply as two people sharing an apartment together? If he came back to find that Kate had pushed the button, Jack decided he would find a way to accept her decision. Their friendship was not something he wanted to lose. But living in the hatch, making this island a permanent place of residence, could he ever accept that? The idea of a relationship with Kate terrified him when he considered being rescued. Kate would begin running again, and all of it would be over. He didn't know if he could accept the present would drift into the future and they would still be on the island, that there was no reason to be afraid of a relationship with Kate.

Once he reached the hatch door it occurred to him that he had to decide on whether or not to tell Kate about the security cameras and plane. He didn't want her to do something stupid, like try and find the radio, but she deserved to know, didn't she? And he couldn't help but to wonder, was there anything that she was hiding from him?

He noticed the hatch was silent when he entered, and only the memory of the alarm could confirm its existence. Glancing around as he walked through the rooms, he noticed Kate wasn't in the kitchen or living area; why had she lingered near the computers?

A sudden clutter of objects made the situation even more curious; concern immediately rushed through him. The entrance to the computer room was covered by some records and other items that had flown towards it. Stepping inside, he saw the computer equipment had moved in the slightest, but the room had obviously been effected by what seemed to be a gust of wind. He also noticed Kate wasn't in sight.

"Kate?" Jack asked, worry raising in his voice.

He stepped towards the computer, panicking in fear of what he might find. There was only a small trail of blood, but no other injuries that he could see trapping Kate on the floor where she lay, unconscious. He fell by her side, sliding his hand behind her head, eyes gazing at her in fear. As he lowered her back onto the floor, blood appeared on his hand.

"Kate?" He said again, this time with less fear and more confidence, "can you hear me?"

His hand tightened on the wound on her head, attempting to ease the bleeding; even more blood appeared. With a gasp of fear Jack got to his feet, and within seconds was in the kitchen, grabbing towels and water. He raced back to the computer room, and was almost surprised with how quickly guilt was surfacing. If only he had been there...how many times had he repeated that statement to himself?

Falling to the floor again, Jack pressed one of the towels against the wound, and found all he could do for the moment was wait. He called for her again, repeating her name, begging for her to escape unconsciousness. But her eyes remained closed and Kate remained still. The computer equipment nearby seemed to be engulfing him, and a strong sense of claustrophobia was coming over him, weighing him down as Jack was met with the pressure of having to save Kate's life.

His eyes closed and Jack thought back to when he left the hatch. He should have listened to her, he should have stayed. No matter who ended up being right, he could have helped, could have been there when she was first injured- he might have even prevented the injury. Left to suffer the consequence, with no explanation as to what happened, Jack could only plead for her to be okay.

There was a soft groan and his eyes flew open, a sigh of relief leaving him as he saw Kate stir. Her eyes contorted into grimaces of pain and confusion as she woke up.

"Kate," he said to her, placing a hand on her arm, "stay still, please."

His voice whimpered at the last word as he tried to keep himself together. Her eyes began to open, and he stared into them, greeting her. He wasn't sure what to say to her first, if he should apologize or comfort her worries, both seemed to be important to say. But he knew she was in danger, and he had to exactly what was wrong.

"You're okay," he told her, "but Kate, it's very important that you answer these questions, okay? And be honest." He drew in a deep breath, silently hoping the answers would be what he wanted to hear. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

He held up three fingers.

"Your kidding, right?" Kate said weakly, though amused. She smiled a little.

"I'm serious," he said, "look at me."

She did, in he watched, trying to hide the horror in his eyes as her pupils danced around where his hand hovered in mid-air.

"Four?" She asked uncertainly. "Wait...three?"

Panic rushed through him in a wave of fear. He wished he knew how long she had been unconscious...if only he hadn't run...she could have been unconscious from the moment he left or from the moment he opened the hatch door.

"Is it four or three?" He asked.

Kate stared at him, seeming confused. Jack closed his eyes. He wondered if he should even tell her, he didn't want her to panic. He needed to remain calm...

"Am I really okay?" She asked. He listened to her speak while staring at the darkness of his closed eyes. "Jack?"

He opened her eyes, looking at her again.

"I think you have a concussion," he explained.

"You think?"

"Do you remember what happened?" He said. Now he wished he hadn't admitted his conclusion: he didn't want her to lie in fear of him being right. "Don't lie, Kate."

Terrified, Kate stared at him as everything was told to her. Comprehension seemed to be coming to her slowly, along with the horror of reality. She would be thinking of all that could be wrong with her, the damage that could have happened. Then she would remember where they were and the limited help she would be able to get. But he needed her to tell the truth; he would help her as much as he could.

"I...Desmond left," she recalled, "the button...we had some kind of fight."

A selfish part of him took her response in relief; she didn't even remember what he had done. Yet he would have rather apologized to her than for her to suffer memory loss. Even though that part of him still didn't want her knowing about the fight and his mistakes, Jack replied honestly:

"Yeah."

"So does that mean I don't have a concussion?" Kate asked hopefully.

"What happens after the head injury is as important as the effects," Jack said, "right now, I'm going to be careful and treat this as though it is a concussion and observe your behavior, look for symptoms. Have you had head injury in the past?"

"Not really," Kate said, "I fell off my horse once."

"You had a horse?" Jack said, grinning.

"Actually, it was my neighbor's horse," Kate said. "But it wasn't my fault, it was Tom..."

As her words drifted away so did her eyes, turning to the distance as she was stuck in memory. Even correcting herself added a sad tone to her voice, as though she regretted it wasn't true. Then her hand traveled back to the towel resting against her head, and she tried to feel where the wound was.

"It's okay," Jack told her, gently taking her arm away from the wound. He was respectful of her wish to keep certain parts of her past from him, but he remembered the pleasant tone of her voice as she talked about the horse. "What was the horse's name?"

"Dallas," Kate replied, and with a smile, "his mom lived there. It was a beautiful horse...his family had more of them, too."

"Where did you grow up?" Jack asked, realizing the subject had never been brought up.

"Iowa."

The answer seemed to fit her: he could imagine her growing up in a place with lots of land, horses, even. But now her gaze was becoming more distant than ever, and Jack wondered if it was for a longing of home or longing of someone she had lost.

"What about you?" The question surprised him as she looked back towards him. "Where did you grow up?"

"California," Jack said, "that's where I live now."

He had never moved away from home, never even left the city he grew up in. To some this wouldn't be a problem: family and friends were at home, and they were reluctant to leave. But Jack realized that even though his life had been plagued with drama, he hadn't stepped foot out of where he grew up, knowing this was a place he knew. He could have run away, as a child the thought would occur to him, but he had also been able to realize that he didn't know enough about the world to leave.

"I would have stayed in Iowa if I could," Kate said. A moment of silence passed as they each contemplated Kate's statement. He began to wonder about her past. He kept forgetting she was a wanted criminal and that despite the person she had proven herself to be on the island- kind, trustworthy, understanding- she had done something that made her wanted by the government. Or maybe she was innocent...he wondered if she would talk to him about it if he asked: if she thought she was innocent. "How long do I have to stay on the floor?"

"You can't move right now, it's too risky," he said, regretted what he had to say, "but not too long."

Kate offered him a grateful smile and began to close her eyes-

"Don't go sleep!" Jack warned. Her eyes flew open at the sound of his loud voice. She looked at him, confused and a little hurt but his demanding tone. Jack continued in a calmer tone: "Again, too risky."

"How long do I have to stay awake?" Kate asked, confessing through the sound of her voice his answer worried her.

"A while," he said. He didn't want to tell her exactly how long, how strict the observation of her behavior and health had to be. He wanted her to remain calm and to know she shouldn't give up hope. Hope...if this one thing could happen, if Kate could be okay, he would forgive his accusations of having hope constantly being pulled away.

Kate didn't look happy with his answer, but she didn't argue.

"I'm going to check the wound," he told her. He didn't want to surprise her by suddenly moving.

She nodded, and he shifted so that he was looking at the back of Kate's head. Her dark brown hair was tinted with streaks of red; the dried blood made the curls of her hair straighten so that her hair hung in stiff strands. He grimaced as he moved the hand holding the towel slightly, exposing a red cloth. The cloth had been white when he found it in the kitchen. But as he examined the blood further, he found that none of it seemed fresh.

"The bleeding is beginning to stop," he told her, smiling even though she couldn't see him.

"Yeah..." she caught his arm as he shifted back to face her. She looked up at him, worried. "I feel dizzy."

He frowned a little, but felt relieved when he realized his answer:

"It's probably from loss of blood," Jack said.

Kate seemed to accept this; her look of worry faded. He wished there was more that he could tell her, more that he could do to help her. Having the technology of a hospital, everything a hospital had to provide, would be so much better than taking care of her while she was lying on a floor in this hatch, surrounded by fallen debris.

It was intimidating to sit here and to be forced to remain so close to her. They would see every expression that passed the other's face, every sign of worry and fear, possibly even the guilt that was still inside him. But he could handle the awkwardness; he had to make sure she got better. Maybe it would be best if he apologized, whether she remembered the fight or not.

"Before the accident," he began, deciding on the perfect words for his apology, "we did have a fight. It was the button...I was so insistent that this wasn't really, that everything about this hatch is some kind of mind game. You wanted to push it, and the clock was close to 108 minutes. But I believed so strongly that it was a mind game. I ran out. You tried to stop me, you even told me that I should stay, that I shouldn't be afraid of staying if I thought it was a mind game. But I ran." Confessing his guilt left him with a feeling of hope and knowledge of a chance of forgiveness. "I'm sorry, Kate. I'm sorry this happened to you. I'm sorry I wasn't there to help."

He blinked away tears as thoughts of what could have happened came to him. The accident could have been so much more worse. And already it was bad, Kate was hurt. He never wanted this to happen. She watched as he recovered from his confession, and he hoped what came out of her mouth would be words of forgiveness. But maybe he just didn't deserve forgiveness. He put her in this situation. He ran from the hatch, leaving Kate in danger.

"But it's not a mind game," Kate said, "this computer must be connected to something...it's all real."

"I know," said Jack, still trying to pull himself together. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have run. I'm sorry..."

Her hand raised to the air, moving with a silent grace as it landed on his arm. The hand slid down his arm as he moved to hold it. He held her hand, not exactly sure what this meant, but thinking it was some acknowledgment that she understood.

"You'll be okay," he told her.

"You don't know that," Kate said.

You have to be okay, he thought. He couldn't comprehend the idea of her dying, whether because of him or not. They had become so close, their friendship was so strong. He didn't want to lose her. And somewhere out there Kate had a family. Perhaps Tom was worried about her. He would have to make sure he was doing all he could to help her. She had to get better. He gave her hand a squeeze. Maybe he couldn't be certain that she would be okay, but he wasn't going to lose hope.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading, and thanks for reviewing!

Until Next Time...

October Sky