Meant to Live
"How was your day, Doc?" Kate asked him as soon as he sat beside her.
"Busy," he told her at length.
Both of them don't talk much during their sunset meetings. Since their second evening on the island, the night Jack had told her that everyone deserved a second chance, Kate had come to the same shelf of beach at sunset to escape. Jack had been doing the same thing, although he would come later in the evening, watching the stars. Eventually, both of them would come every evening, hardly talking at the beginning. Sometimes, they would talk about what had happened during the day. Since that first evening, neither of them talked about the past.
"Busy?" she prompted.
He sighed. "I checked up on Claire, gave her some vitamins. Walt started telling me Vincent had the colds.. I don't know anything about dogs," he chuckled. "I figure if I tell him to feed the dog regularly and give him exercise, he'd be okay. Kid seemed to take it though. Had a couple games of Frisbee this afternoon"
She smiled. "Well, it seems like you had a good time,"
He chuckled, as if remembering something. "Yeah, I did."
"How about you? How's the signal coming along? Any progress?"
She sighed. "I think we're doing okay. At least Sayid seemed to think so," she told him.
"You don't believe him?" he asked, looking directly at her. She gave a small shrug. "He's the communications guy," she told him by way of explanation.
"You can't blame the guy for trying, though,"
"Trying what?"
He looked at her, eyes intense. "For keeping our hope alive."
Why- how- could he do that? It confused her that with half sentences and silences he seemed to know her so well. And it baffled her that he was always the first person she turned to for anything, ever since that first day. She never did that, even before the crash. She thought he might be doing the same with her. She just couldn't be too sure.
"Hope's an expensive thing right now," she commented.
"Funny you should talk about currency here," he added, standing up and tossing a piece of shell into the sea.
She gave him a sidewise look. "What do you mean?"
"Well, you know, stranded in an island, there's nothing left to do but hope: hope for food, hope for shelter, hope for good weather.. hope that we didn't fall out of the sky straight into Jurassic Park.." he tossed another shell in the sea, and dusted off his pants. "So, there's a lot to hope for. It's the only thing we have left." He looked at the horizon, and then at the campfire in the distance. "We should start heading back." he told her, holding out his hand to pick her up.
Later on it occurred to her that he didn't mention hoping for a rescue.
He opened his eyes, and the first thing he noticed was the crick in his neck. The second thing he thought of was that the must've rolled off the tarp he used as a mattress and ended up on the ground.
The first thing he learned about survival here was acceptance. He remembered that.
He had forcefully stopped himself every time he caught himself thinking of things he'd left behind: a bed, running water, hot showers, flushing toilets.. Even the awful gunk that passed as coffee at the hospital lounge. Every time he thought of what he had and lost; people he loved and missed.. The first thing that kept him from losing grip was the first instinct: people need me.
Next thing he always did was the mental checklist he had of all the survivors on the island, how many were sick, how much medicines he had left, how much he had to ration. Claire needed to be checked up on first; she was due any day. He rubbed the back of his neck and got ready for the day. He stepped out of the cave and started.
His eyes scanned the groups of people milling about. Until he found her, he didn't realize he had been looking for her. She lifted her head in acknowledgment, and moved back to the trees helping Sayid with the firewood.
He did the same; it was their morning ritual. She was secretive and wary by nature, and they hardly got into each other's way the entire day. He understood the feeling of not wanting too much time for yourself: it was just too much time to think. Too much time to brood.
It wasn't as if she was the only one with a past.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sawyer pick something from the ground and head into the forest where Kate and Sayid had gone. He narrowed his eyes and started to think of going into the forest himself.
"Good morning, Doc." Hurley approached him, huffing.
"Hey man," he said, turning instantly to the other man. "What's going on?" he asked.
"It's not like people don't know, you know," a voice said wryly behind her.
Instantly she stiffened, knowing who it was behind her. She also knew that Sayid wouldn't be anywhere to be found, which is exactly how Sawyer would've planned it.
"Know what, Sawyer?" she asked him, wishing he would just make his comment and go away.
He shrugged and leaned against a tree, relaxed and smug while she dragged palm branches and firewood.
"Sawyer, do yourself a favor and just leave." she huffed and deliberately swung a branch in his direction, much like trying to swat a fly.
His eyes narrowed and then he grinned. He waited her out, because sooner or later she'd be asking.
She stopped. "What?"
"It's not like people don't know about you and Jacko, you know."
"Know what, Sawyer? Because last time I looked, everyone else was just trying to survive, and you're the only one who bothers with gossip."
He raised an eyebrow. "You and the hero. There's gotta be something there, Freckles. Those long walks, the teamwork thing you've got going on."
She stood, and narrowed her eyes. "It's none of your business."
"Just exactly how much do you know about our fearless leader, Kate? How much do you really know about his life outside?"
He tossed her an object, and she caught it on the fly. Again, he grinned. "I betcha you played ball when you were a kid, huh? A catch like that comes from instinct.
Oh, and you're welcome," he added before he turned into the trees. "You're not the only one with secrets, Kate. You and me, we're more alike than you know. It's the quiet types that end up being bastards." He told her over his shoulder as he disappeared into the trees.
She knew what it was before even looking at it: the glint of gold and the hard, round shape of it cold in her hand:
To Sarah, who saved me in all the ways I could be saved. Always, Jack.
Just a quick shoutout: thanks for the feedback.You all were more generous than I expected (I expected a non-response, haha). I was nervous in writing the characters because so far where I live we've only seen the first four episodes. All the character nuances so far are derived from the way I see the actors in their roles. I've also cut the last part from the first edit to become the second chapter. So, some notes regarding your questions:
Alexis Rockford: It's not the end; I plan for it to be longer. And thanks for the suggestion on a beta reader. I am so unfamiliar with the format that I'm just testing the waters right now. Thanks again. :)
JerseyGrl00320: Yes, it's my first fic here on Fanfiction (sheepish) Most of the time I just keep them in my hard drive. But for some reason Lost got my imagination going, so I kept at it.
Jess: Yes, I named it after the Switchfoot song. I was listening to it being looped on my mp3 player and I realized how true it was to where I wanted the story to go. That, and titles are always my Waterloo in story writing. :)
Thanks to Teyla Sheppard, I'mjustducky, sweetlikechocolate, CrAzYhOrSeGiRl88 and thedramasummer for the encouragement.