Chapter 3

7/23/2005

Jack grabbed Sawyer's wrist, frowned a little bit, and then dropped the wrist and put two fingers to Sawyer's neck instead. The Southern backed away from the touch a little bit and chuckled. He put his hands up in protest.

"C'mon, now, Doc, gotta buy me dinner before you can do that."

Jack glared at him and then moved his hand away. "Your pulse is still weak, I have to check it here. Now are you going to be a baby about it or are you going to let me make sure you're okay?" He seemed exasperated already, glaring at Sawyer.

"Well, since you put it that way." Sawyer gave his most devilish grin. "Guess I'll just have to be a baby about it.

Jack stared at the man across from him, his jaw set rigidly. It was true that Sawyer was better off then he had been even days before, but he still was far from being okay. At any moment, some form of hemorrhaging that was going on that Jack couldn't see….Jack shook his head without realizing he was doing it. He figured that Sawyer would read it as disbelief about the way he was acting.

"You're really not going to let me, are you?"

Sawyer tilted his head a little bit. He was still pissed off about the way that Kate had run off and told him that he had to stay and wait around. Jack had no idea how much the comment he had just made had reflected on the way Sawyer was feeling. The doctor had thrown salt into a wound without realizing it.

He knew that Jin was alright, a lot better off then Sawyer himself from what Jack had said. The doctor came to Sawyer after giving Jin a proper check up and then said that the man barely had a scratch on him. Somehow the tides had washed him up on the beach on a piece of drift from the raft, at least that's what Sun had translated. Sawyer still only knew bits and pieces of the story.

"Know what the problem is?" When Sawyer saw that Jack was actually waiting around for his answer, he continued. "I knew a guy named Jack once." Sawyer's smile faded. "Really hated the guy."

Jack stood up then and sighed deeply. He started to walk away then stopped. "Know what? I'm guessing the guy hated you, too." He stormed off, leaving Sawyer alone again with his thoughts.

"I ever tell you how much I hate you?" Jack sneered , narrowing his eyes and spitting onto the dirty floor of the back alley bar they stood in.

James Ford chalked up the cue he held, "Now sweet talk will get you nowhere."

Jack was cracked his knuckles one by one, a good natured grin on his orange freckled face. You'd more expect to see a guy that looked like Jack O'Brien in a place like Boston, or even in New York City—with his curly crop of red hair and bright emerald green eyes. The man was as Irish as a drunken, Whiskey-induced brawl behind a bar. James had known him for almost a year now—which was one of the longest friendships he had had in a while.

His Southern drawl was more then a little noticeable up in Chicago, people actually figured him a bit slow. But James Ford was anything but, and he had quickly learned who he needed to get chummy with and who not to. O' Brien was one person that was certainly on the good friend to have list. Cause he also was on the shitty enemy to have list

James had been hustling pool for quite a while now. It turned out he was damned good at it, and there were other perks too. Like anything with betting involved, taking the occasional dive was all in a day's work. Jack set up a lot of nights, playing in tournaments that had no names. With people who knew each other's names but rarely used them.

He sauntered towards the door of the dingy men's room they were chatting in, but Jack stood in his way. He shook one chubby finger in front of James' face with a pumpkin-like grin. "Now, remember, kid. There is a lot-a lot-of money riding on you floating that 7 ball. You don't do it? You're in a world of hurting."

James sort of laughed, "Yea, right. I'm worried. Relax, I've never let ya down before."

Jack's hand gripped his shoulder tightly, and there seemed to be a dark shadow over his eyes that night. "This time it's different. This money…this money is big. You screw this up? It's a you-better-leave-town-and-change-your-name kind of trouble. You hear me?"

His eyes got a little wide as he stared at his friend before him. There was a note in his voice that James had never heard before. He wasn't playing around. James started to walk out the door to go play the game. He never allowed himself to get nervous, relied on his smooth talking to distract his opponents through most games. But tonight he walked out with Jack's fatal words ringing in his ears.

He didn't know when he first broke on that game of pool, but the threat would become a prediction come true. James Ford would walk out of that pool hall hours later hoping to find money to save his own life, and Sawyer would walk out a few days later with enough money to pay off his fines and get the hell out of town. Except the name never returned, because he was a different man now.