Chapter 6 - No Peace To Be Found
22/10/5

He thundered through the jungle. He scrambled through thickets of shrubbery, clambered over fallen timber, tripped and fell and bled and ran. His world spun, his head flipping up and back and round, praying for a flash of skin, material, anything. The sky was so dark above him, and the next day so blue, and then black again; the contradictions colliding, compounding. He searched the beach. He ran for miles along it, and miles back, he scanned the ocean and it was all he could do to stop himself diving into the waves under the stars that first night; convinced each moonlit wash was a hand held up, an ivory-skinned cheek. He grabbed people, literally shook them by the shoulders, tried to calm his voice as he asked them; have you see her, have you seen her, have you seen her. His count to five rule was banished, forgotten, lost; the fear permeated through him, soaked him, and Jack made no effort to block it out. It fuelled him. It drove each flying step he took. It angered him and terrified him and mocked him. And Jack thundered on, saw her face, felt her frame, felt his heart stumble; searched for every second the daylight gave him and waited for the night to pass.

The first night, as he ran back to camp; he could feel the hope in his heart. He was so sure he had just overreacted, maybe she had forgotten, or been held up, or changed her mind, or just been scared. The options flooded his mind as he trampled down the path through the jungle. He was trying to convince himself, he would later realise. A voice to calm him, because her voice wasn't here, and someone needed to tell him. And then, as the hours passed, and he ran into each camp to no Kate, and no knowledge of her whereabouts… the fear started to creep into him, like an niggling itch, a tiny voice that grew ever louder. Michael and Walt hadn't seen her. Jin didn't understand. Sun had been alone all day. Hurley and Charlie shook their heads wordlessly. Locke… Locke asked all the 'right' questions, when had Jack last seen her, how had she seemed, where had she gone. Jack answered, and knew these were the right things to concentrate on, but standing still felt so pointless, hopeless, so slow. The night was descending too fast and there were too few torches, too few people, too many horrific possibilities and too much island.

Sawyer wandered into the caves a few minutes after Jack had returned from the beach; Jack could see the swelling around his nose and eyes, the bruises he had laid upon him. Jack silently approached him, met his eyes, indicated for Sawyer to follow him. He could see the southerner about to object, a snide comment resting upon his lips; but then he had seen Jack's eyes, something like terror filling them, and left his bottles at the waterfall and followed him.

Jack put it simply. "Have you seen Kate?"

"Freckles? Not since you were laying punches into me Doc, no. Why?"

Jack sighed. Sawyer had been his last hope. The last person he hadn't asked, the only person he could really imagine Kate going to anyway. He had almost convinced himself she'd be with him. Convinced himself, because the other possibility was too much, too incomprehensible.

"She's missing."

"Woah, doc, what the hell did you do to her after I left? What did you say?" Sawyer's words tumbled out of him. There was something worrying about Kate missing. She was so tough, so independent, so… unbreakable. She couldn't be missing. Could she?

"Like that's any of your business."

"Doc, if she's missing, it is my business. It's everyone's business, if you were the last one to see her, so just tell me, yeh?"

Jack swallowed. "You left. Kate got kinda emotional, pissed at me for jumping to conclusions… we made it up, and…"

"And I can probably guess the rest. Doctors and nurses?"

Jack gave an almost imperceptible nod. But the grin that should have accompanied it, the joy in his heart; they were missing, missing with Kate, that beautiful girl, his beautiful girl.

Sawyer gave a snide smile. "Well it took ya's long enough, Christ, I was gonna have a crack at that myself."

"Well she's missing, Sawyer, so I'll make sure that happens just as soon as we find her." The anger filled Jack's voice.

Sawyer didn't flinch. "Have you checked everywhere? Maybe she's just picking fruit or on one of her famous hikes or-"

"She was supposed to meet me." Jack interjected. "She didn't show. I've been searching for two and half hours, I've asked everyone and looked everywhere I can think of or get to now it's getting so dark. You... You were my last chance." Jack bowed his head. He prayed this was all a nightmare. He pinched himself, angry and hard, but no eyes flickered open and no dream dissolved. Why did he let her wander off alone? Had she just gotten lost somewhere unfamiliar? There had been no noises from the jungle, no falling trees and moaning, thank god. But Claire had disappeared and it had nothing to do with monsters or supernatural forces. The Others… if Rousseau was right, they were out there, and Jack knew not who they were or what they were capable of. He wanted to run, screaming her name in the jungle, turn the island upside down and shake her out.

"Okay." Sawyer processed this information. "And you don't think…" He stopped.

"I don't think what?"

Sawyer sighed. "That maybe Kate's just being Kate. Hell, she killed the last boy she got all serious and jiggy with. Maybe she's just frightened herself into believing it could happen again, or that with all the she's tallied up back in the real world, she doesn't deserve what she sees in you."

"What does she see in me?" Jack said unconsciously.

"Judging by the way her lil ol' eyes light up whenever you enter the roo… cave, I'd say she appreciates your bed side manner, for some reason. I'm just saying, Jacko. Here's you with your Hippopotamus Oath and saving this and that and the other, and she's stealing cars and changing her hair colour to stay on the run from a murder charge." Sawyer shrugged.

Jack considered the other man's words. For all the crap he spoke, Sawyer did sometimes say something worth listening to. Kate had run from him before, run so fast and so hard she hadn't even notice the cuts in her feet. He knew she had an endless history to tell him; things he might well dislike hearing or imagining. But… Kate wasn't stupid. Far from it. She wouldn't stay out in the jungle through the night just to avoid him. She would have returned, to the beach or even to Sawyer's tent so to not be in hers when he inevitably came looking. She would have come and apologised to him, explained herself, shown herself so he wouldn't worry. At the very least, someone would have seen her return to camp. And… Jack closed his eyes. He could still see her standing in front of him. Could see her lean in to kiss him, the fledgling trust in her eyes, her hand holding on to his long after she could have let go. No. She had wanted all the things that he too longed for; the long talks, the painful honesty, the embarrassing anecdotes of teenage shenanigans. She had wanted to learn to trust him.

Jack opened his eyes. "I know all that. She wanted to work through it. She wanted to tell me, to trust me."

Sawyer could hear the conviction in Jack's words. "Okay."

And it was then the true panic had set into Jack. The way Sawyer began to fill water bottles and sent people off to gather all their friends and anyone else they could find. It was getting on for ten o'clock by the time everyone was assembled. Sawyer handed out water bottles, Vincent barked in ignorant excitement at the late-night activity. And everyone turned to Jack. Everyone turned to their leader, for guidance and instruction and explanation.

He didn't bother with niceties or thanking them. He was numb, blunt, raw. Kate was missing. She had been for three hours. He had searched all areas as best he could in fading light and by himself. All the details they needed to know. He allocated torches and search areas and people to remain at camp with Walt and Aaron. He found peace, for a second… peace in doing something productive, in not being alone with only the unremitting island and his own terror to haunt him. Peace in describing Kate's clothes and backpack and entrance point into the jungle. Peace, because he needed something, something to cling on to in memory; because in five minutes when he sent the search parties off for as long as they could manage before pitch black set in, someone could cry out. Someone could find her backpack, or a pool of blood, or a scrap of fabric. Or a body. And all peace could tumble and fall and be trampled on, forever.

Each band of brothers left, their torch lights like trails, like headlights in a desolate city. Jack composed himself, made sure his boot laces were double knotted, ran his hands down his face. Sawyer, surprisingly, had deliberately stayed behind to search with him; Jack didn't know whether to be glad or annoyed. At least he knew how much Sawyer cared for Kate, under all the nicknames and wind ups. At least the endless stream of put downs and banter would distract him from the ache and throb inside him. Jack stared into the encroaching dark. Kate… where are you. Come back to me. Just come back to me and I'll never let you go again. I promise.

"Let's go, soldier." Sawyer sauntered past Jack, their torch in his hand. Jack snapped from his prayer, blinking hard; grabbed his gear and jogged after Sawyer. He took the torch and the lead from the other man; this was his search, for his girl. If they stumbled upon her, he needed it to be him first.

And so they searched; long after they should have gone back to camp, long after it wasn't safe to remain in the jungle. They cut large chunks of foliage away with sharpened hunting knives, revealing nothing but dirt, dead leaves, tree roots. Jack didn't know whether to feel glad or disappointed; glad Kate wasn't lying there mangled and silent, but aching for a clue, a sign, as to her whereabouts. He could feel the tiredness weighing down his eyelids, two nights with no sleep; but forced them back open and splashed water over his face. Several times Sawyer said they must go back, must go no further. But Jack's heart propelled him forward, just another mile, and another, and another. He had no food inside him. He had no energy left. Their water had run out an hour ago. Two hundred or so metres ahead of Sawyer, Jack slipped in some viscous mud. He fell to his hands and knees, turned on his back, and stared to the sky.

My lips are on yours. It is sunny, the day is young but warm; you are sitting on a rock beside the swimming hole in nothing but my dirty checked shirt. I have been swimming, am fresh and feel new, whole. I have swum underwater to your perch and knew you would have seen me, so when I surfaced you were waiting. We are so comfortable around each other. I have raised myself up out the water, my whole bare body rippled and dripping with water, and you have leaned down and found my lips, my tongue. Each time you meet my eyes, it's like your soul touches mine; a shudder runs the whole length of me, mercury in a thermometer. I can feel you smile as we kiss, your teeth gently grip my lower lip, your hand rests on my chest. I could stay here forever. I'll never let you go. I promise you.

You grin mischievously. I know what you are planning; that hand on my chest pushes me back, but you are still kissing me, and my hand catches yours as I fall. You laugh, your eyes light up, as we tumble into crystal water… and then you are under too, and your hair spills around you like streamers. I kiss you under the water, giving you air and love all at once. We break the surface together, and you are wild; like you need me in that moment, need me more than you ever have. It's like we can't be close enough. We have so much affection and gentleness between us, delicate touches and looks that say more than words ever could; your eyes meet mine now, and I can see all of you, all your naked history and vulnerability. The guilt and shame you hide, all the love you have to give, all the trust you give me piece by piece. And need and desire. You grip me, and I am hard as you knew I'd be; you slide down upon me, meeting me and needing me to fill you. There is resistance for just a second; and in that second you mouth to me, "Don't let me go…". And then I am in you, all of me, and I am complete. You gasp, press your face to mine; and your eyes have never left mine. Your hands are on my back, gripping the tough skin, nails digging in, but I don't mind. Usually you are delicate in making love; we are slow and lazy and draw out each movement, draw out the ecstasy and closeness. But today… today it is like you need only to have me in you, over and over, quick and breath catching and ravenous. It's just minutes before I can hear your breath quickening, rapid and shallow; your tongue delves deep into my mouth, and I want to suck you dry, lick every inch of you, know you inside out. Your eyes meet mine again as you tighten, pulsating around me; and I can't hold back, don't, and together we let go.

It is long moments before I can catch my breath again. I kiss you on the forehead, hold your quivering, spent body against mine, the water gently lapping into us. You whisper something.

"What was that?" I ask softly. I don't want to break this silence, this intimacy, like a cocoon enclosing us.

"What's your favourite colour?" You whisper again. You look up at me, stroke the edge of my collarbone.

I nearly laugh, but then I realise you are right. There's all these tiny things we don't know about each other, like the microscopic pieces of a shattered pane of glass. I can't wait, to spend the rest of my life finding each and every one out. I grin and kiss you on the lips.

"Green."

"Green?"

"Mm hmm."

"Huh." You smile in thought. You are so beautiful. You glance around at the trees, the bushes, the endless plants we haven't identified. "You should be alright here then."

I smile, tuck a tendril of wet hair behind your ear. "What's yours?

You look at me, open your mouth. "Well…"

Sawyer's face cut through Jack's reverie, splitting the starry sky. He asked for no explanation for Jack's position, and offered him no help. "Doc, we're going back. Now." He turned and slowly trudged back through the footprints they had made, guided by moonlight.

Jack blinked. Of course he couldn't finish the daydream. That was the life another he and Kate were living, in one of those other light years, in some far off corner of this infinite universe. He searched amongst the stars. Here… here, he couldn't finish her words because he didn't know the answer. He didn't know Kate's favourite colour, or lucky number, or middle name, or even where she grew up. He felt like he knew her inside out, and didn't know her at all.

He got up. There was something new in his eyes, something definite and firm and unmoving. Autopilot set in. I won't let you go, Kate… I'll never let you go. And then I'll spend the rest of my life, finding out each tiny detail of yours.

He started the long walk back to camp.

The next day was the same. And the next night. Sawyer moved temporarily to the caves so they could search at first light, and they stayed out all the next day, working systematically over the area, back and forth like ploughing a field. Jack was on autopilot. The fear still flooded him but he let it in, constantly, because it drove him. He walked for miles upon miles. There were blisters on his feet and hands, his back ached, the sun beat down and filled him with exhaustion, and still he pushed on. For he knew; no peace would be found, not until she was back with him, and he could fix all those things which hurt her. God, he ached with the constant worry for her, was she alive, was she being hurt, who had her. If Jack truly let all the images in, they would overwhelm him. And so he let only one in. That image from four long days ago, as he emerged from the jungle to find her silhouetted in the dawn, and held his hands up to frame the moment. He carried the disposable camera with him everywhere, to remind him; one day soon when Kate was back, and cuts had been treated and rest been had, they'd go up to the waterhole and talk and laugh and he'd hold her so close. He'd hold her, and never let her go. He'd take the camera out, they'd snap a cheesy picture, all smiles and endless happiness and falling in love. And he'd curl up with her and think how he didn't need to sleep, for all his dreams had already come true.

But for now, each night he fell to bed, to rest that would never come, to a space at his side that though Kate had never filled, felt empty and hollow. The darkness mocked him, pushed him back from his task, left him tethered in confusion and terror at what it held. And hour upon hour he woke, never diving down deep in sleep, always riding on the surface, watching for Kate on the shore. Jack would run to the edge of the caves, the edge of light from the glowing fire like a line he mustn't cross; stand there as if under house arrest. The darkness hung like a sheet in front of him, inpenetrable… and he knew she was out there somewhere, cloaked and hidden from him. And he stood. And waited. Waiting for morning. Waiting to search again. Waiting for Kate, and peace, to be found.