Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story, nor do I own any rights to the television show "Lost". They were created by JJ Abrams and Damon Lindelof and they belong to them, Touchstone, and ABC.
Great thanks to my betas, MrsTater and WhoKnowsWhy. I would have abandoned this beyond this point without their help and encouragement.
Chapter 2
Jack was at the fire with Sayid when Kate emerged from her tent the next morning. She stretched slowly, making a show of ignoring them. She walked to the water line, letting the waves churn around her ankles, pushing and pulling with force. The water was cold and murky, as if reflecting the malaise that infected the camp since Claire's abduction.
She sighed, smoothing her hair and pulling it back with an elastic band. She must have the tides mixed up, she mused, wrinkling her forehead. The water seemed close for low tide. Kate turned, and made her way with slow cat grace to the two men.
Sayid was feeding the fire, listening to Jack. Obviously, the conversation was not an easy one. Both men's faces were tight. By the set of Sayid's chin, she'd hazard the guess that they were discussing the French woman. Jack's compressed lips indicated he was having no more success than she had.
She looked around for Sayid's walking stick. It wasn't there.
"Morning, Kate," greeted Jack as she drew near. "Hope you hit the takeout window. The cupboard is bare again this morning."
"Locke and Boone didn't get back until late last night," reported Sayid, clearly much more at ease with this subject. "There's no sign of a successful hunt."
"I don't miss the meat so much as the fruit not lasting," said Kate with a rueful look.
At this moment, she also missed a cup of coffee. It was this time of day that she most missed civilization. She could live without many things but the lack of a morning beverage on a daily basis bothered her. Water just wasn't the same and with everyone eating the fruit, there was no juice. If nothing else, it was something to wrap the fingers around and hold during the morning wake up.
"I talked," Jack stopped, gave his head a small shake. "To Jin this morning. He's fishing today. The plan is to take Charlie and Hurley with him. It will take some time but there'll be more fish soon. Plus it'll be good for Charlie – fill his time."
Jack took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, his eyes following the flames in front of him. "I hate to say it." The closely shorn man swallowed, looking out to the waves. What he was about to say was obviously not palatable to him. "It's time we admit we can't find Claire." He glanced at them. "Not the way we're going about it. Not without some outside help." He settled his glance on Sayid, frowning.
"If Locke could venture out farther," began Sayid, turning from Jack's gaze.
"No one tells Locke what to do," sighed Jack, sinking onto the sand to sit. "I don't know if he and Boone are hunting for boar or for Claire. He's never around to ask."
"We could ask Boone's sister," suggested Sayid. "It's possible that he's telling her what he and Locke are doing."
"Does it matter what they're doing?" asked Kate, dropping next to Jack, wrapping her arms around her knees. "The outcome is the same. No boar."
"It matters," said Sayid, lowering himself gingerly. "If Locke is hunting boar and not finding any, then sending out more people to find boar is a waste of time. If he is instead searching for Claire, that is not the case."
"Are you saying more people should hunt?" she said slowly. "Or you found some hunters?"
"I am saying that it could not hurt for more of us than Locke to be able to provide meat."
Kate said slowly, "He's on to something there, Jack. Why didn't we didn't think of it sooner?"
"We didn't think of it because Locke was doing fine by himself," said Jack with some gruffness. "And I don't think now is the time for him to teach -"
"Kate can track," offered Sayid with a rush.
She turned her head to look at him with surprise. She hadn't seen this one coming. Why she hadn't, she would consider at another time. Right now, she was very interested in Sayid's idea.
"The last time she went out looking for boar," said Jack, working for a neutral tone and failing, "Michael came back injured. And we don't exactly have hunting gear."
"Locke uses a variety of means to capture the boar. We track the animal so we can determine the area to build a snare or a trap, and then construct it."
"We track? You're an experienced tracker?" The sarcasm was heavy.
"No, he isn't," said Kate, annoyed that she was being excluded from the decision making process. She decided that right now that Jack irritated her more than Sayid. "But I can teach him."
"You don't have the time either. You're bringing in the biggest portion of fruit," argued Jack.
"Fine, I'll save time. I'll track this morning and pick fruit this afternoon. Better yet, I'll just track and," she paused and looked directly at Jack "Someone else can pick the fruit."
"You know how I feel about anyone going out there alone, Kate," Jack stated flatly.
"I'll go with her. She'll not be alone." Sayid jumped back into the debate.
"Five minutes ago you couldn't walk well enough to take me to the French woman. Now you're able to hike through the jungle to search for boar with Kate." Jack said, heat creeping into his voice.
"He walked well enough yesterday. Remember you sent him after me?" replied Kate in kind.
"I can walk, just not quickly or very far. I don't need to walk quickly or very far to learn how to track," said Sayid without rancor.
Jack's scowled deepened. "So how about we track Rousseau?"
Sayid disregarded the remark completely. "It makes perfect sense for me to accompany Kate. I cannot climb just yet so as a gatherer I rank very poorly. If I'm to contribute to the camp-"
"But you'd slow her down if you come across Ethan," Jack looked determined.
"If it's a matter of speed," Kate saw an opportunity and dove in. "Then I'm better off alone."
"Kate, it's not a good idea to go into the jungle by yourself!" Jack glared at her. "We don't know who – or what - is out there!"
"Then it's not a matter of speed, and my presence will not endanger Kate," Sayid beat her to the punch, a touch of smugness in his tone. He dropped it as he continued, "Jack, why is Jin teaching Hurley and Charlie a good idea, and Kate teaching me not?"
Jack exhalded loudly and glanced again to the waves. Why was he fighting the idea? He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. "You're not hunting."
Sayid said nothing.
"Sayid, you're not hunting. This is to find the boar. Then we get Locke involved."
Sayid nodded impatiently, his chin back to stubborn at Jack's words. "Yes. Then we can learn –"
"One step at a time, Sayid," Jack said with finality. "Just how many people do you want out there tossing knives around? If she's going to -"
"Stop talking about me like I'm not here," Kate cut in. Enough was enough.
"Who thinks you're not here, Freckles?" Sawyer sauntered into the conversation and next to Kate. "I can see you plain as day."
The discussion stopped. The seated men exchanged glances, then found the fire fascinating.
"You're up early," said Kate, squinting up at him.
"'Member our plans from last night? For you to take me," he said, his eyes sliding to Jack. He waited a beat. Two. "Fruit pickin' today."
She silently fumed. First, she was without a vote, and now she was a tool for Sawyer to bludgeon Jack. Men were asses.
This was a not a revelation to her. She was no Shannon, a pampered rich girl ignorant of reality, coasting on her looks and daddy's money. What was new was that Kate didn't feel any control over any piece of this situation. Jack and Sawyer would snip at one another, seemingly with her as the reward, while ignoring her entirely. She had played men against each other before and never was disregarded like this. But before she had picked the men to play and she had picked the games. Neither was true here.
Well, she had chosen Jack. Or rather, he selected her by dint of being at hand when he needed help. That something as horrible as the crash brought Jack Shepard into her life continued to amaze her. His sense of self, his confidence combined with his clean, good looks drew her like a magnet. Decency and honesty radiated from his eyes and suddenly, she remembered that was how she wanted to be, how she started out.
How she could be: decent, honest. Here on the island.
There had been no sign of the marshal in her wanderings after the crash before she stumbled across Jack. She spotted a face or two of those seated near them. No Mars. She didn't wish the officer dead. She didn't wish him alive. She wished him not.
If Mars were not, it would mean freedom. Again. She had hope. Then she saw Jack tending the marshal and it took a direct hit. Yet, she couldn't wish Mars dead. She couldn't reconcile that and wanting Jack never to hear Mars' voice either. If the rescue came soon and Mars lived, it wouldn't matter what Jack knew. If they were stranded and Mars died, this was her chance to make a strong impression: pretty and good. She knew she was making no sense as she scrambled onto hope's back; she would ride it out.
She hoped, so she looked into Jack's eyes and allowed the real Kate out. She flirted like she would, if she could be who she really was. She helped others, really helped, because she wanted to, not because there was an angle to play, a shortcoming to distract from, a hole in her to fill. She ran back for Jack when they encountered the Thing because it's what good people did and she was good people. There was no calculation there. There was hope. It practically made her giddy. That giddiness should have tipped her off.
After Mars shared mug shots, Jack looked at her differently. Yet, Jack didn't denounce her, instead made a pretty speech about starting over, and they pretended they did. Except they didn't. At times, she felt that she was Jack Shepard's personal salvation project, and at others, that she was simply an annoyance.
A fractured piece of the past lay on the sand between her and Jack, and Sawyer slid in. But it wasn't about her. Sawyer, bruised by poor aim and popular disapproval, saw that she was a weakness of Jack's and went after it.
She had no idea how to fix any of it. She couldn't run. There was nowhere to go.
She was still helpful, still good, except now it wasn't without thought. She was back to watching every move, every word. When Jack left the beach for the caves, she decided that a daily bit of break from him would have to be a good thing. Let him miss her, give her a breathing space. Besides, with Mars dead, the driving force behind her arrest was gone. The idea of digging in at the caves felt of capitulation. She wanted to be with Jack but it was too high of a cost if it meant not believing in rescue. She didn't give up. No matter who she was, she didn't give up.
Kate hadn't considered that proximity to Sawyer would grow into a bit of a temptation. He was amusing, aggravating, and too damn good looking for her own good. She told herself that she wouldn't be used to hurt Jack. That she knew what she wanted and could handle it.
Except she couldn't, because it wasn't completely about her.
She felt Sayid's gaze on her. Her eyes briefly met his brown ones. That she wasn't in total control of the circumstances didn't have to mean that she had to sit on the sideline and watch.
"Sawyer," she said. "There's been a change of plans."
"Yeah?" Now he peered through shaggy bangs at her. "Look at me, up bright 'n early and all unappreciated."
From the corner of her eye she could see Jack opening his mouth. She snorted and said quickly "You can come with us."
"Us, Freckles? You didn't say nothin' about no double date."
She felt all eyes on her now. Never when you wanted it, she fumed internally. "A good ol' boy like you should know how to hunt."
"You're not hunting, Kate." Jack's voice was calm, in charge. He was brooking no arguments.
"You talkin' calling 'souey souey'? Or do you mean real huntin'?" Sawyer was clearly entertaining himself.
"And the first step of hunting- "
"Hey, I shot the bear," Sawyer grinned widely, his shoulders back with pride.
"Is tracking. You're getting your first hunting lesson today"
"Well now," he drew out the words. "And just who's the 'we' in this edg-u-cational endeavor?" Sawyer looked around the fire at the three faces.
"Me, you, and Sayid."
"Not the doc? Gonna practice on me first, then give him lessons?" Sawyer slid a lidded glance her way.
She wanted to punch him. Sawyer was having no trouble with consistency.
Jack climbed to his feet, brushing the sand away. Of course Sayid followed the lead. Kate ruled out being the only one looking up and rose gracefully. "Jack's – "
"I'm coming with you." Jack smiled tightly. "Sayid's right, Kate: the more of us with survival skills, the better."
She bit her tongue and smiled. "Good. Then let's get this show on the road."
A small list of needed equipment was quickly compiled – water, bags to hold fruit – and they disbanded to collect the items. Kate was pleasantly surprised that Jack supported her instruction to Sayid to bring his staff. She disregarded Sawyer's smug grin as Sayid's protest was overridden.
With that surprise in mind, Kate opted to walk to the caves with Jack. He needed to retrieve his backpack, and they were fetching some water for the beach camp while Sayid and Sawyer scrounged bags. She hadn't been alone with Jack since the night that they brought Charlie back. She liked the idea of just the two of them without a crisis at hand.
The possibility, she told herself that it wasn't a wish, that they would enjoy a good conversation died as Jack grunted in response at her second conversational gambit. She abandoned the effort. This was Dr. Jack, direct cause of pregnant women kidnappings, that she was dealing with today. He didn't want to discuss the difference she noted in the tide, or how Charlie was doing.
She concentrated instead on how she would instruct the men. Funny, she thought the stuff the old man taught her was useless, and here she was, about to impart it to others. Maybe she should see if she couldn't make Sawyer cry by dragging him around the jungle for eight hours.
Sullivan pounced on them as they entered the settlement, yanking Jack's arm to lead the doctor towards the infirmary. Kate smiled as Sullivan described in loud and vivid detail the red splotches that were growing on his left ankle just at the hairline and fast approaching the top of his foot. She chuckled lowly at the doctor's blatant eye roll as she headed to the waterfall.
She looked around, smiling and nodding at people as they passed. She wondered when some of them had been to the beach last. Most seemed to drift back and forth between the camps, or had until recently. She stopped, bottle half full.
The survivors had another significant mark to add to their common timeline. Their conversations were peppered with these events: after the crash; before Locke hunted boar; before Jack found water; after there were two camps. Now there was after Claire's abduction.
Now it would be said people were afraid to walk the path to the beach after Claire's abduction; that Jack acted like the lame duck mayor of the island after Claire's abduction. The second time of hunger would be after Claire's abduction.
They hadn't been here long enough to have so many benchmarks, and that wasn't including those that were repressed, almost as a group: before the marshal died; before they burned the fuselage; before the Thing showed up.
She had her own private nicks: after the pilot was pulled from the plane; after they heard the French transmission; after Jack found her mug shot; after Sawyer was tortured; after the kiss. She wondered if she asked, would Jack would tell her his?
Perhaps this would be a good mark. Possibly, they could salt some fish, some boar; with more people working at the tasks, there should be enough to save. Maybe they could salt some fruit – the plantains, the mangoes – hadn't she gotten bored enough once to read an Indian cookbook?
Or was it Japanese? At any rate, it could become after there was always enough to eat.
She finished filling the water bottles and looked for Jack.
He was still dealing with the man with rashes. Jack's guilt for not listening to Claire was providing Sullivan more of the doctor's time than the hypochondriac deserved.
Kate plopped onto a rock and gazed about. She was considering heading for the guava grove to the west of the caves when the doctor waved her to him.
"I'm going to be a little longer," said Jack, rubbing the back of his neck. "Why don't you get some fruit while you're waiting?"
She took him at his word: she palmed three mangoes and two papayas, and headed for the beach.
The beach was more active at this time of day: Shannon was sun bathing, Tracey and Steve were ambling south with what Kate hoped were empty packs to be filled with fruit. There was no sign of Sayid or Sawyer.
She deposited most of the water bottles in the common area and walked to Sayid's shelter. The flap was up – the Arab was home and open for business.
He looked up from his makeshift desk as she rounded the corner. "Hey," she said, tossing him a mango. "You ready?"
Sayid put the fruit down and carefully began to roll large sheets of paper. "Yes. I was taking advantage of the time."
"What are those?" Kate stepped closer.
"Some documents that I ….. liberated from Rousseau. I was hoping that they were maps of the island, however I cannot make sense of them."
"What's that writing on the side there?" She pointed to an unrolled corner.
"I believe it's French. Unfortunately, I cannot translate written French either. I had hoped for some commonality between the languages I know."
"What about those numbers? Numbers aren't in French." Kate offered a smile. She made a mental note to mention the maps to Jack.
He glanced up at her and finished rolling. He opened a small trunk and placed the scroll inside. "I've studied them several times since my return. I'm not making any progress. Perhaps some time away will allow me to view them in a fresh light."
"And if not, you can ask Shannon for help with the French." She enjoyed teasing him, and considered the eye roll over Shannon's behavior their own private joke. Besides, he was so serious all of the time. When his sense of humor was struck, the sly, heavy lidded look that accompanied either the obviously repressed smile or the clever twisting of lips made all efforts worthwhile.
"I have been considering that. Despite all the noise at the time, she was able to translate the transmission. That could not have been easy." Sayid stood and joined her on the sand. "Thank you for the mango."
She hated it when her mark was missed.
"Where's Sawyer?" She turned and looked up and down the beach. "Go ahead and eat that if you want. I have more. And don't forget your walking stick. And your knife." Kate tilted her head towards his dark curls, her eyes meeting his. "It's for cutting a coupla sticks. I didn't want to mention it in front of Jack. He wouldn't listen why we need them, just go off about knives and other things we shouldn't be playing with."
Sayid pulled the straps of the backpack over his shoulders. "He is feeling a great deal of responsibility for Claire's disappearance."
"There's Sawyer." She sighed. What was going on? Sayid was in official no fun mode. She started in the direction of tall blonde-haired man at his shelter.
"Where is Jack?" asked Sayid, resting the staff on his left shoulder, trailing in her wake.
"He's about ten minutes behind me. Sullivan nabbed him when we got there," laughed Kate.
"Then you came back to the beach alone?" She couldn't tell if he sounded amused.
"He wasn't ready and I was."
"And you can run fast." There was definitely amusement there.
Kate smiled over her shoulder, looking up at him from lowered lids. "When I want to." She turned her attention forward. The smile faded as a question occurred to her. "Can I ask you something, Sayid?"
"Very rarely is that followed by a pleasant query."
"This isn't that bad. Why were you so insistent this morning on this tracking adventure?" She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Up to this point, the things you've done go more towards getting off the island. There's no way to track yourself home."
"If you're asking me if I've given up hope of rescue, the answer is no."
She wrinkled her nose, pondering that. "So it has nothing to do with accepting this?"
"I accept that I'm on this island. I am not resigned to staying here."
"Where does this fit?"
"The better equipped I am to survive, the higher the probability that I will. That improves the probability of rescue." He smiled at the last.
"Hey teach," hailed Sawyer, dropping the side of the tarp, effectively shutting his door. "You're late for class."
"Hey! Hey! Katie!" A shouting voice broke past the sound of the waves.
She and Sayid turned almost as one to look. A large, fair-haired man headed down the beach towards them from the direction of the jungle.
"Damn, it's Arzt," muttered Kate. She considered ignoring him. The caves had Sullivan; they had Arzt. Sullivan complained of aches, pains, rashes; ten minutes of Arzt created aches, pains, rashes on the listener's skin.
At least she could use the Jack sanctioned task to stop the science teacher from wasting too much of their time. She was suffering no guilt, so there was no need to listen for extended periods to anyone.
The man, face flaming from exertion, called, "Hold up there!"
Sawyer swore quietly and ducked back into his shelter. Kate grabbed Sayid's arm. "Oh no. You're not going anywhere."
"No fair, Freckles. Give the poor guy a limpin' start," came Sawyer's voice from behind the flap.
"Sawyer, get out here!" she commanded lowly, laughter in her voice.
"Katie," Arzt arrived, huffing. His bushy eyebrows were mesmerizing as they moved in time with his chest. "Jack said to tell you that he can't make it."
"Is everything okay?" She narrowed her eyes.
"That little guy – the musician - cut his hand. On a shell or something while he was fishing and Jack's tied up with that," he explained.
"Oh. Okay, fine. Thanks, Arzt." Kate turned to the tarp. "C'mon, Sawyer, let's go."
"Wait! He said for you to take me in his place. On your little lesson for the day."
A guffaw erupted from the inside of the shelter.
"I'm glad that you find that so funny," Arzt addressed the shelter. "I was a scout as a boy. For me, this will be a refresher course."
Sawyer stepped into the sun. He cocked his head. "Seems to me, ya pass an era, ya need more 'n refresher course."
Kate rolled her eyes, pressing her lips together. The day just had gotten longer. Damn Jack anyway. Maybe this was payback for leaving without him. Alone. "Jack told you the plan? Track then fruit?"
Arzt nodded. "Not exactly a challenging curriculum." He frowned, spotting Sayid. "Unless we add points for the handicapped. Won't you slow us down?"
Sayid blinked. It was the first time that Kate saw him nonplussed.
"Hey Davy Crockett," Sawyer drawled. "If Hop-a-long Omar here don't go with us, there ain't nothin' big enough on this island to chase me into the jungle with you. And I'm willin' to bet she ain't gonna teach to a class a one."
Arzt opened his mouth to respond.
There's my cue, Kate noted with mental sigh. "Let's get going, shall we?" She started heading north, the men falling in line behind her.
Chp 2 end