"Jack?" a voice behind him asked hesitantly.
He turned and faced a worried looking Charlie. "What is it, Charlie?" He asked politely, schooling his face to look neutral. He resisted the urge to be impatient. Hell, to sound impatient. one of the things his father had warned him about medicine was that he would never be not needed: it simply would not be possible. Over the years he had trained himself for it; even expected it.
But it could be such a bitch sometimes.
"Um, listen. I'm worried about Claire-"
"What is it? Is she hurt, or something?" he asked worriedly, already bending to pick up his bag and run.
"No, no. It's not that. She's fine," the other man responded, hands gesticulating wildly. Jack made a mental note to keep watch on Charlie. The man showed signs of anxiety attacks and temperament- normal in crash/trauma victims- but he also wanted to keep watch for possible signs of withrawal- either drugs or alcohol. Or both. So far Charlie only exhibited signs of hyperactiveness and nervous energy. Jack knew Charlie long enough to understand that was normal. But he couldn't be too sure.
Focus on the problem at hand, a voice inside his head sternly told him. A voice, he realized, that sounded suspiciously like his father's.
Charlie kept on talking about Claire wanting to stay on the beach instead of going further inland where the others are.
"I've tried everything," Charlie continued. "She should be moving inside- the beach isn't safe for her, it's too hot, and too far away to ask for help if she and the baby needs one."
"Okay," Jack told Charlie, both of them walking out of the cave.
"I'm thinking maybe, you know, being the doc and all-" Charlie paused. "Maybe if it came from you, she'd go."
Jack smiled inwardly to himself.
"She's gotten it into her head she wanted to be first to see anyone from the rescue ships.." At this, Charlie trailed off, not wanting to go on. Jack understood what he meant. They've been on the island almost two weeks.
"Okay," he told the other man. Jack picked up what served as his medical bag: a backpack with basic antiseptics and gauze, a water bottle, some aspirin. He turned to the fidgeting Charlie. "Why don't you fill me in on the rest while we're on our way?" he asked companionably.
"Hey, Bossman-" Hurley hurried over to Jack, puffing slightly. He had been helping out in moving luggage and whatnot further inland, and it was almost noon.
"Hi Hurley, what's going on?" Having finished checking up on Claire and her health, he agreed with Charlie that moving inland was a good idea. He told Claire that himself, and she seemed to have taken his advice. More often than not, the reason for her stubbornness had nothing to do with being difficult. Being in her condition, he told Charlie the best way to get her inland was to take a light approach. Push comes to shove, they'd bring her in. For the meantime, he knew Charlie would keep a watchful eye on her.
"Yeah-" Hurley continued, still out of breath.
"Hey- have you taken any water while working?" Jack asked worriedly, automaticalky shifting the backpack off his shoulders to open the zipped pocket where he kept water bottles.
"That'd be great, thanks-" Hurley gratefully took the bottle and drank.
"So, what's on your mind?" Jack asked, leaning against a tree trunk while Hurley sat down on a stump.
"Uh, yeah. I was helping out with the luggage and stuff, and I think these are yours-" Hurley took out a small bag he carried with him, and a watch. "I mean, it had some sort of tag in it, you know- 'J.S, M.D.'. It's embroidered, and I think these must be yours."
Jack fought the surge of emotion that came over him in seeing the bag. It had been one of those shaving kit things that someone had thought to have embroidered as a gift - for no occassion- while he started out as a doctor. He rarely ever used it- God knew he hardly travelled- but for this trip, somehow, he had shoved toiletry in there instead of stuffing them in the compartments of his luggage.
It was a reminder of home.
"Jack? Hey Jack?"
Jack realized that he hadn't reached out for the bag. "Sorry, man, I just got spaced out. Um, yeah, it's mine. It has my shaving kit and stuff-" he took the bag and unzipped it.
"Thanks. I mean it. I can use the spare razors, and oh God! My toothbrush!" Now he grinned. Thanks, man. Really."
"Hey, I'm glad I helped," Hurley shrugged, but smiled.
"The razors could be useful for surgery- Some of the ones I'm using aren't sharp enough- I can't believe I even put Band-Aids in here-"
"Please, no talk of cutting and sewing human flesh, okay?" Hurley interrupted, holding up a hand.
Jack stopped and smiled in spite of himself. Hurley looked like he was about to turn green. "Sorry, Hurley. I guess I just forgot myself." He grinned again, and put the shaving kit inside his backpack.
"Let's just not talk about it, how about that?" Hurley said, still looking sick.
"It's a deal."
"But, um- I think the watch's busted. I thought you might still want it."
Even though he had been clutching it in his hand, he looked down at it, seeming surprised. "Yeah. It got broken right before we left, so I took it off. Thanks." Jack nodded his thanks and shoved the watch in his pocket.
If Hurley was about to comment on that, he didn't let it show. He did, however, feel that the mood had turned serious. Which was appropriate for the other topic he wanted to discuss, that had him running in the first place.
"Oh, I also wanted to tell you something- since I was helping out with the U- Haul crew and all that- boy those things are heavy- and I saw some stuff that I'd know you'd be interested, so I picked it up and ran with it. I mean, I'm sure no one saw or anything, but you can't really be sure-"
"Hurley, what is it?" Jack asked exasperatedly, cutting off the other man's nervous rambling.
"I mean, this." Hurley pulled out a manila folder- folded up twice lengthwise- from his back pocket underneath his shirt.
Jack frowned, looking at the folder. "What is it?" He asked, noting instead that Hurley looked extremely nervous.
"Um, I didn't really read it. I mean, I didn't know it was that marshall guy's stuff. But I got to see the first page, and it had Kate's name and face on it. With like, a list of aliases."
Hurley breathed, nervous. "That's when I stopped reading, and figured I should bring this to you." Hurley paused, hand still outstretched. "Rather than having someone else read it. You know.."
"Okay," Jack said slowly, taking the sheaf of papers off Hurley's hands. "So this is like-"
"Her file, or something," Hurley finished for him.
Jack noted that it was a slim file; a folder with only three or so pages. The print on the edges of the paper were smeared. Due to the water, he surmised.
"Um-" he started to ask, but Hurley interrupted, waving his hands in front of him.
"Nuh-uh. I didn't read it, Jack, I swear. I mean, I'd rather not. Ignorance is bliss and all that."
"I didn't mean-"
"No, I just wanted to make it clear. Cause you knew about the gun and the handcuffs and stuff from the beginning.
Keep it, burn it, ask her, throw it away. I mean I don't care, really. All I know's that it'd be better if the secret's with you rather than anyone else on the island."
Jack was silent. He took the folder, opened his backpack, and slipped the file in.
"Okay." Hurley breathed a sigh of relief. "Now I gotta get back to work."
"Hey, Hurley?" Jack asked as the other man was walking away. Hurley turned, and faced Jack expectantly.
"Thanks, man."
"No problem."
Some notes: Again, thanks for the feedback, folks. I'm still getting the hang of the Fanfiction format, so I'm going to tweak the chapter names and headings for the first two chapters of this story. I won't change the content though - although I regret cutting Ch 2 so short, but that's life for ya. Thanks again for taking the time to read. Feedback is always appreciated!