Still Waters

Morning came as it always did , with its promises of a fresh start cloaking the dangers that lay ahead, like leaves camouflaging a hole in the ground. Jack was dimly aware of the colours ebbing into the dawn sky and the restless tittering of birds somewhere up in the trees, but didn't really pay much attention to them. He was in a state of limbo, straddling the chasm between optimism and pessimism and felt strangely detached from his body. He hadn't slept again; oh maybe he had nodded off for a few moments, but nothing substantial. His mind wouldn't turn off long enough for that. If he wasn't trying prepare himself for the perils of the post-crash life they found themselves in, he seemed to be caught up in memories of the past. His mind playing over his relationship with his family like some twisted version of home movie night.

But this time, while he may not have slept, he did feel some measure of rest. As though only part of him had been subjected to the turmoil. He glanced down at the sleeping figure in his lap. Kate. She had shifted during the night, curling her body into a fetal position; her head snuggled in his lap, and her knees drawn up to her chest with her hands tucked under his legs, like a child would tuck her hands under a pillow. His legs had long since fallen asleep under her slight weight, but in truth, he didn't mind, because he knew that it was likely her presence that had kept part of him grounded in the present, and not haunted by the past or trapped by the future.

As if aware of his gaze, Kate started to stir reluctantly. She breathed deeply and squirmed onto her back, stretching the muscles in her legs. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept so well, certainly not for months, at least. As memories of the night, and the day before, trickled back into her brain, she opened her eyes abruptly. Blinking the sleep out her eyes she found herself looking into Jack's face. She scrambled out of his lap, and flushed a bit at the intimacy of their sleeping arrangements.

"Um. Good Morning?" she said, suddenly at a loss for what to say.

Jack looked at her with calm eyes and gave her a small smile; just a slight upturning of the corners of his mouth. "Morning," he replied. "Did anyone ever tell you that you snore?" he teased lightly to break the ice.

Kate snorted and shot him a mild scowl. "Did anyone ever tell you that you're not supposed to tell a girl that?" she retorted.

He looked down at the ground briefly and gave a little chuckle as he looked back at her. "Guess not." He nodded in the direction of his bag, "I think there's some water in there if you're thirsty," he offered. "Sleep okay?" he asked casually as she rummaged in his bag.

"Yes, actually I did." She took a swig of the lukewarm water and handed the bottle over to him, looking at him intently. "But you didn't , did you.?"

He took the bottle from her and pushed himself up to his feet, wincing at the 'pins and needles' sensation in his cramped legs. Not quite able to meet her eyes, he drank some of the water, and replied "I'm okay." He scuffled his feet in the ashes of the campfire, scattering them to make sure the embers were all out. "We should head back to the others, I'm sure they are wondering where you went."

He bent down to retrieve his pack but froze when he felt a hand on his arm.

"Jack." Kate said quietly. "Don't."

He straightened, holding his bag in front of him like a shield. "Don't what?" he asked, pretending ignorance, but dreading where this conversation appeared to be headed.

She watched the shutters come down as he prepared to keep out the outside world at a distance, herself included. She sighed with frustration, but was determined to keep her door open at least. Looking him square in the eye, she said, "Don't try and pretend like your not human, Jack. You're not some superhero that doesn't need rest."

"Is that what you think? That I think I'm some superhero, Kate?" he asked quietly. "Trust me, you couldn't be further from the truth," he said with a sad chuckle.

"Yes… No... I don't know what you think, Jack. But I think you forget that you're only human and that you can't fix everything." She gentled her voice and sat down on the log. "I don't know what happened yesterday, but like I said, you don't have to go it alone. If you need someone to talk to, I'm here. I'm worried about you, we all are. You're running yourself ragged and are going to give yourself a nervous breakdown if you don't slow down. You're not eating properly, even I can tell that. And when was the last time you slept, Jack? Really slept?" She held her breath, hoping she hadn't pushed him too far, but her concern fueled her actions.

Jack stared sightlessly at a spot just over her shoulder, unable, or unwilling, to look her in the eye. He started to deny it, to mutter the same old platitudes, but he knew she wouldn't let him get away with it this time. He, who was always insisting on honesty, owed her at least that.

"I get enough rest to keep going. No I haven't been sleeping lately. Not since before the crash really, maybe even longer. But there is nothing I can do about it here, is there? I don't imagine anyone here is getting enough sleep, but we all just have to cope with it."

"But the others aren't trying to keep everything going . You're trying to sail the ship through a hurricane all by yourself, and I think it's slowly killing you, Jack. You're going to end up killing yourself, you know." she said, her calm voice laced with concern.

At her last comment, he darted her a quick look, her words hitting too close to the truth. He gave a nervous laugh "I'm not going to kill myself, Kate. If I didn't before, I doubt I will now. I'm a doctor, remember? I'm used to a lot of stress and little sleep."

She frowned at his words, unsure if there was a deeper meaning to them. Jack resisted the urge to squirm under her probing gaze; there was no way she knew, was there? He had locked that part of him up and long since thrown away the key. There's no way he'd ever let that part out again because deep down, he just didn't know if he'd ever be able to push it back again. No, there were too many other things here that needed his attention and energy, and Jack Shephard just wasn't high on that list.

Kate watched the way he turned in on himself, as if trying to keep her out, or maybe keep something in. She noted the wariness in his eyes, the purposely blank facial expression, marred only by the slight tensing of his jaw muscles. She could see that he was trying to brush her concerns off, and suddenly wondered just how often he had done that. She pursed her mouth and looked down at the ground for a moment, thinking. She looked up at him, with her chin up and head cocked to the side and caught a glimpse of something she'd never seen or even suspected in Jack.

Vulnerability.

It wasn't any crack in his demeanour, or even a momentary lapse in the self-assured image he projected, that tipped her off. No, she thought, it was there in his ruthlessly held self-control, as if he was fighting to keep himself sane, even if it meant trying to smother his self perceived weaknesses. Like a formidable wall trying to deter an attack on an already damaged building, his 'in control' exterior was struggling to hide an interior that was beginning to crumble. Effective camouflage, she knew from her own experience, but never stable in the long run. Without inner support, the wall would eventually collapse. And God knows the incredible stress that's been hammering on that wall since the crash, she thought; no wonder he blown up at her yesterday. And somewhere inside her, she felt a tug; an invisible catch in her breath as she saw Jack … really saw him. Kate saw not the idealized image of the competent surgeon, the capable leader, or even a man with probably some perfect life before the crash. She glimpsed the man within, the one that was as lost with himself, as they all were on this damn island. It was only a fleeting epiphany, but it opened her eyes to the existence of the flawed human that was kept hidden beneath a mask of self confidence, buried under self imposed responsibilities and expectations. As her mother would have said, "Still waters run deep".

The silence in the clearing was deafening, broken only by the sound of Jack, couched on the ground, yanking his bag closed; his actions abrupt and rough with emotions he wouldn't let surface.

"Jack," she said quietly as she stood up. He paused in his assault of the bag , and partially looked up at her. Before she realized what she was doing , she had lifted her hand to his cheek in an age old gesture of comfort. She saw him flinch and go completely still at her touch. He meet her gaze with his own and instantly regretted it. He swallowed tightly and tried to look away, feeling entirely too exposed; afraid of what those pensive green eyes might see. It seemed like his entire awareness was focused on the sensation of her warm hand on his skin.

She saw the myriad of emotions flit across his eyes, and wondered how she had ever failed to see the complexity that was Jack Shephard. She broke their gaze and let her hand fall away, instinctively knowing that he didn't want her to see that part of him; to see beneath that mask.

"You should clean those cuts on your face, Jack," she said, as if that had been the real reason for her touch. "Somebody warned me not to take the possibility of infection too lightly here," she chided, relieved to see him relax once again.

Jack huffed out a rueful chuckle. "Yes, nurse," he teased, matching her light tone. The humour fading from his tone, Jack stared at his hands and began "Kate, about yesterday ", but she cut him off with a shake of her head .

"It's okay Jack, we all have those days," she said as she bent down to tie her shoelace. Trying to keep her voice neutral, she continued casually, "Just remember … you don't have to be perfect around me. I'm not exactly in a position to judge anyone."

When she heard no response, she turned her head to look at him and found him staring at the water bottle in his hands. He looked up at her, met her gaze and slowly nodded his head. He didn't say anything, just looked back at the bottle and nodded again, before returning to look at her and give one last solemn nod, with just a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Kate let out the breath she hadn't known she was holding. As she felt another little piece of her armour fall away, she realized that something had changed between them; shifted somehow. It was like two pieces of a puzzle suddenly fitting together. The puzzle was far from finished, and heaven only knew what it would look like when completed, but still, it was connection. One that she felt being made in her soul.

And somewhere deep inside, so deep she wasn't even fully aware of it, the part of her she thought long since abandoned, smiled softly.