And then it was Boone's turn to point out some stupid job that needed doing and suggest that Jack be the one to do it. Jack kind of regretted going to talk to him last night now, maybe he thought they were bestest friends or something. He wasn't even really sure why he did it. He was going over to sit with Kate and saw that Boone was lacking his sister, she was only his sister, and decided that an introduction was in order. Nothing more to it than that really.
So Boone pointed out that Rose had become somewhat withdrawn and Jack wondered why he should care. Did no one understand that he was injured too, fixed up with a complimentary sewing kit you get in hotels, and he was having a pretty bad experience himself, he was, after all, on the same island that they were, and he had some emotional baggage of his own to deal with. Coffin shaped baggage. God, his mom must be pulling her hair out right now, losing her husband and her son within 24 hours. He wished he could call and tell her he was okay. Was he okay?
Boone was looking at him with those stupid eyes and telling him that he was the reason Rose was still alive. Jack wanted to argue the toss and say that Boone had gotten there first and given enough time he would have been the one to save Rose. But he didn't bother. Anyway, he wasn't so sure it was true.
But sitting with Rose wasn't so bad. It actually got him out of the way for most of the day. Just resting, staring out over the ocean, not having to say too much, letting his thoughts drift. And no one was interrupting him. People were kind of walking on eggshells around Rose so they just left it up to Jack to help her. Right, like he knew what he was doing. But it did give Jack the idea of acting unhinged himself so that maybe people would start walking on eggshells around him and then no one would talk to him, they'd all just talk about him. That would be kind of nice.
That wasn't the reason he didn't attend the memorial though. It was just a little too religious for him, a little too spiritual. Jack didn't go in for all that stuff. He was a doctor, a man of science. You had a body and you had a heart that pumped around your blood and you had a consciousness that was little more than electrical signals in your brain. When you died the electricity went out. There was no heaven and no hell and no afterlife. Just flesh and blood and bones. Jack didn't see the point of saying goodbye to flesh and blood and bones. He would have attended his own father's funeral should he have made it back to LA but it wouldn't have been to say goodbye, it would have been to keep up appearances. And Jack felt very, very, bad about that.
So he sat there, on his own, staring at the black ocean, the light from the burning fuselage behind him. And then Boone came down and sat next to him. So apparently the eggshell thing didn't work with him. Jack didn't say anything, didn't move, didn't look at him. Maybe he'd get the message.
"Not your scene?"
Then again, maybe not. "I don't know anybody in there," Jack replied, not looking away from the ocean.
"No, me either," Boone said, following Jack's lead and staring out into the blackness ahead of them. "Still, they were people."
"Yeah," Jack agreed. "They were the lucky ones."
That made Boone turn and face him. He just looked at him for a couple of seconds. "You don't think anyone's coming, do you?" he asked eventually.
Jack didn't bother to say anything, just carried on staring into oblivion, listening to the waves gently lapping the beach.
Boone sighed and looked back out too. "We have food now at least," he pointed out. "Fresh food. Boar. I've never had boar before."
Jack couldn't help but smile a little. He hoped Boone didn't notice. If he thought he was getting a response he'd probably never leave him alone.
"I'm guessing it'll taste kind of like pork," Boone continued. "I was never a huge fan of pork really. I mean, I'll eat it, but I prefer beef. Or chicken's my favourite I guess. I don't know if they have any chickens here. I guess not. There could be anything out there though. You heard about the polar bear, right?"
Jack turned to face him. He wanted to say something about how kind it was of Boone to try and make conversation or how his rambling was actually quite endearing but all he managed was "Yeah."
Boone nodded and smiled a little. Actually it was more like a smirk. Actually it was rather attractive. If you were into that kind of thing.
"Polar bear in the South Pacific, what's up with that, huh?" Boone persisted. "Pretty out there. And then there's that whole Godzilla vibe going on. If we could catch that thing we could probably all live off it for weeks. I don't really fancy our chances much though. I'm guessing it's big."
"And violent," Jack nodded.
"Yeah," Boone agreed.
"The pilot was pretty..." Jack trailed off. The mental image was enough, he didn't want to have to try and describe it. And there was something in him that made him want to protect Boone, shield him from what was out there, from what was happening to them all. It was probably that little boy lost thing that he exuded. Sure, he acted like he knew what he was doing but Jack saw through the bad CPR in a second and he wondered what else Boone was pretending to be competent at that he really should be guarded from. "What do you do?" Jack asked. "Back in the real world. Other than the lifeguard thing."
Boone looked a little surprised at the question. "Oh, well, the lifeguard thing was in college, I don't really do that anymore," he replied.
"So what do you do?" Jack pressed.
"I run a company," Boone replied. "I'm the CEO. Of a company. Bridal company. Weddings and stuff."
Well, not quite what Jack was expecting. CEO? Boone barely looked out of college and he was head of a company? And he didn't screw up on a daily basis? Okay, that last part was a little unfair but saying Boone was clueless would be putting it lightly. But Jack didn't really know Boone just like Jack didn't really know anyone here, just like no one here really knew Jack. So maybe Boone was a little rusty on the CPR, didn't mean he couldn't run a company. Still, it didn't seem likely.
And then Jack realised that he hadn't said anything for quite a while and Boone was looking at him. "Well, that's erm..." he struggled, trying to find something supportive to say.
Boone did that little smirk again and turned back to the ocean. "Right," he said.
Jack looked at him. "Right? What does that mean?"
Boone shrugged. "It doesn't mean anything, Jack," he replied lazily. "It means right."
Jack nodded a little, still none the wiser, and turned his attention back to staring and trying to clear his mind. But he couldn't clear his mind, not when Boone was a foot away from him and Jack could smell him on the wind. A smell he couldn't quite place. It was somewhere in between clean and dirty. It wasn't exactly fresh but it wasn't unpleasant either.
Jack lay back on the sand and stared up at the stars. Boone looked down at him for a second and then glanced around the beach, apparently looking for something. He then turned his attention back to Jack.
"I better go," he said, but made no move to actually leave.
"Okay," Jack replied, trying to recognise constellations. Then he remembered he didn't actually know any constellations.
He saw Boone nod a little and then stand up. He looked down at Jack, blocking his view of the stars. "You should close your eyes," he suggested. "It'll help you sleep."
Jack was just about to say something but then Boone was gone. Jack closed his eyes.