He sighed and headed the other way, going into the lab. Eko was sat behind the computer, stoically staring at the timer. Jack glanced at the timer and then back to Eko who wasn't even acknowledging the fact that he'd entered the room. He was just about to turn around and leave when Eko spoke.
"This place is very strange."
Jack turned back to face him and saw him slowly looking around every inch of the room from where he sat.
"Yeah," Jack agreed somewhat warily. "Strange."
"You do not know what the timer connects to?" Eko asked.
Jack shook his head, finding his gaze back on the timer. "Sayid started to look into it but he's been out of the way the past few days."
"Looking for the boy," Eko stated.
"Yeah," Jack nodded. He turned back to Eko. "You know about these others, right? You've seen them?"
"I have," Eko allowed.
"So is there anything you can tell us that might help us get Walt back?" Jack asked.
"If they don't want to be found then you won't find them," Eko said simply. "I think your friends are wasting their time and putting themselves in danger."
Jack moved closer to him. "What do you mean?"
"Your man, Mr. Locke, he is a tracker, yes?" Eko asked.
"Yeah," Jack agreed.
"He won't be any use to you with this," Eko explained. "They don't leave tracks. You won't find them that way."
"So how will we find them?" Jack asked.
"You'll find them when they sneak up behind you and hit you over the head with a rock," Eko replied calmly.
Jack looked at him. And carried on looking. In fact he was probably gaping but he couldn't think of a thing to say.
"This isn't the right way to find your missing friend," Eko told him.
Jack nodded. "What is the right way?"
"I'm afraid I cannot help you there," Eko replied.
He turned his gaze back to the timer so Jack guessed the conversation was over. He gave Eko one last curious look and headed back out to the hall where he saw Shannon walking towards him. He gave her a look.
"You know, I wish just one person would listen to my medical advice," he said. "I do have a degree. I'm qualified."
"Yeah, blah blah," Shannon replied. "Can I have a shower? I'm seriously starting to smell and that is so not a good look on me."
"No, Shannon, you have stitches, you have to keep them dry," Jack told her, trying not to get irritated.
"But you keep washing them," Shannon pointed out.
"Yeah," Jack agreed. "But you can't get them soaked. A gentle wipe with some clean water is fine but if you go in the shower you're increasing your risk of infection and your risk of them coming out. Plus, getting the wound soaked can encourage scarring."
Shannon looked annoyed. "Whatever," she said, trying to look like she didn't care and almost succeeding.
"Now please go lay down, or at least sit down, before you give me a heart attack," Jack pleaded.
"Fine," Shannon said, heading back to the bedroom.
Jack followed her into the room.
"I told her," Boone said from where he sat, not looking up from his book.
"Didn't do any good, did it?" Jack asked.
Boone looked up and smirked at him. "It never does any good."
"I'm still here y'know," Shannon complained, getting back into the bunk and making a big deal of sighing loudly.
"How could we forget," Jack replied. "How are the stitches feeling?"
"Like they need a shower," Shannon replied. Jack gave her a look. "I don't know, they feel fine, I guess."
"You in any pain?" Jack asked.
"Yeah, but I can deal," Shannon replied.
Jack nodded and turned his attention to Boone. "How's the leg?"
Boone looked up from his book, rather unimpressed. "It's fine, go back to worrying about her."
"I just need to keep a close eye on everything," Jack told him.
"If there was something wrong with it I'd tell you," Boone replied.
"Would you?" Jack asked. Boone gave him a look. "Fine, okay."
Boone put his book down and reached for his crutches. "Come on, let's give the princess some alone time."
"You're gonna leave me on my own?" Shannon complained. "I am so bored."
Boone picked up a book and threw it into the bunk. She didn't even bother to look at it before tossing it on the floor.
"Yeah, like I'm gonna start reading now," she sneered. "Good one, bonehead."
"Yeah, it's probably got too many words for you, hasn't it?" Boone replied. "You need a nice Peter and Jane book."
"Get bent," Shannon called out, getting settled in for a sulk.
Boone rolled his eyes at Jack and led the way out of the room. They went through to the sofa, now sans-cushions but still reasonably comfortable, and sat down.
"Have you talked to that Eko guy?" Jack asked.
"Yeah, freaks me out," Boone replied. "He's like Locke to the power of ten. Seems like he'd kill you in a heart beat for no good reason."
Jack nodded. "Yeah, he has that vibe, doesn't he?"
Boone looked at him. "Are you one of those guys that thinks the word 'groovy' is still cool?"
Jack looked at him. "Do you think I'm old?"
"No," Boone replied, looking away.
"You think I'm old," Jack stated.
"Oh, shut up," Boone dismissed. "I think you're older, not old. Jesus, don't go having a mid-life crisis on me."
Jack was tempted to say something else but he knew it was a stupid path to pursue so he shut up. He was older though. Quite a bit. And also straight, or so he thought. So why exactly was he dating a 22-year-old guy?
"I didn't lose my dad but I lost my step dad," Boone said, apparently out of nowhere. "Shannon's dad," he explained. "He died a couple of years ago. I went back for the funeral, I was living out east then. New York. But he never really felt like my dad, he always just felt like my mom's husband, y'know. I guess it never really affected me all that much. I was more upset for Shannon than anything."
Jack looked at him. "Why are you telling me this?"
Boone shrugged. "I dunno."
"Am I supposed to tell you about my dead father now?" Jack asked.
"If you want," Boone replied.
"What if I don't want?"
"Have you always been like this?"
"Like what?" Jack asked. "What am I like?"
"So unwilling to talk about anything," Boone explained.
"Why do I have to talk about everything? Why do people have to analyse every little feeling that they have?" Jack fumed. "Why can't I just tell you my father is dead and we can just get on with our lives. Why do you want to know about him?"
Boone just looked at him for a second. "When Sarah filed for divorce, did she cite lack of communication as one of her reasons?"
Jack could have swung for someone. Not Boone, he didn't want to hit Boone, but if Sawyer was handy he'd probably hit him. He just glared at Boone, trying to warn him off with his eyes. He's overstepped a boundary, Sarah was none of his business.
Boone nodded. "Right."
Jack just continued to glare at him. "Don't ask about her. Our divorce is nothing to do with you."
"Is there anything in your life I am allowed to ask about, Jack?"
Jack sighed and looked down. "I told you about my dad. He drank. I killed him. You heard that story."
"So tell me another story," Boone requested, his voice much softer now. "Just tell me something."
"My tattoos," Jack said. "I erm..." He looked at the ink on his arm and then back down at his lap. "When I was sixteen, my dad was at work and I sneaked into his study and I went to the liquor cabinet. I took out a bottle of whiskey cos my friend was having a party and I knew I'd be the coolest kid there if I took it. So I go and I take the whiskey and I'm heading into the hall when my dad comes through the door, he's finished early, which never happened. So I'm there with this bottle of whiskey and he's looking at me like he's going to kill me. I know I should stop and explain and hand it back but I figure I can outrun him, I can just get to Nathan Rochester's house with this bottle of whiskey and this awesome story and I'd deal with the consequences the next day. So I start running out back and he's right behind me and I look to see how close he is and I trip going out the patio door. I drop the bottle which smashes and then I fall onto it and a piece of glass slices into my left bicep. He drags me up, hits me around the head and takes me to the hospital where I have to have twenty-one stitches. It healed nicely and the scar was, you couldn't even really see it, not unless you were looking. But I knew it was there. I could see it everyday. And I hated it cos it reminded me that I'd never win against him, I'd never get one over on him. So, when I was twenty-one, I'd been living away from home for three years, I'd been acing everything at college, and I still couldn't get him to be proud of me. So I figured screw him. I went to a tattoo parlour and I got them to put a tattoo over the stupid scar simply because I knew my father would never approve of it. I mean, if he was going to look down on me I may as well give him a reason and get rid of that stupid reminder of his omnipresence at the same time."
Jack sighed heavily. He'd never told anyone that story before. He'd never explained to anyone why he got the tattoos, he thought it would cheapen their impact if he let go of that secret. But it didn't. Somehow it gave them more impact, it made them mean more. And Jack wasn't sure if that was because he'd shared or because he'd shared with Boone.
"Did you ever regret getting the tattoos?" Boone asked him.
Jack shook his head. "No."
"Was your dad pissed?"
Jack smiled a little. "Yeah. He really was."
"Then I guess you did the right thing," Boone shrugged. "I like them, anyway," he added and reached out with his hand, tracing them with a finger.
Jack closed his eyes and tried not to shiver at the touch. "Sawyer told me my dad was proud of me."
Boone stopped. "How does Sawyer know?"
Jack opened his eyes and looked at Boone. "He met him a bar in Sydney," he replied. "Go figure." He smiled. "Apparently he was shooting his mouth off about me. He must have been really drunk."
Boone smiled at him. "Look at you, of course he'd be proud."
Jack looked down again. "I don't know that I turned out the way he hoped."
"He pushed you, right?" Boone asked. "Always told you you could do better?"
Jack nodded.
"Then he's proud. He had a goal for you and he's proud," Boone told him. "My mom never pushed me. She never took an interest in anything I did. She didn't really care what I did with my life so long as I didn't embarrass her. People like her can't be proud."
Jack looked at him. "She did a good job with you."
Boone smiled. "Don't go giving her all the credit."
Jack smiled back at him. "Do you think that parents can ever get it right?"
"Probably not," Boone replied. "There's so many ways to slip up, you gotta hit one of them."
Jack nodded. "Maybe," He wouldn't mind having the chance to find out though.