so what i really should have been apologizing for in the last chapter was Jack and my horrible scapegoat attempt with Kate. i'll remedy that soon. i'll try to make sure i don't do that again...and i'm posting this next chapter so soon as an apology.

Jack made a b-line for the shower to get a couple large towels and then headed into the laundry room to remove his soaking shirt, dried himself off with one of the towels, and put on a brown hoodyhe foundin there. Then he went into the kitchen and pulled out all the ice the freezer had in it, gathering it into the other towel.

Sayid was sitting next to Hurley on the bed, both looked up as Jack entered, but remained silent as he climbed the ladder. Sawyer was moaning softly, the ice left on his chest having melted.

Jack replaced the old towel with the new one. "Did he wake up at all while I was gone?" Jack asked, scooping some crushed ice from the pile and pressing it against Sawyer's forehead, holding it there.

"No." Sayid said coolly, stepping out from under the bed, "he has just recently been making noises."

"Did he say anything?"

"I could not understand most of it." Sayid paused between sentences."Do you think perhaps that the toxin the frog secretes causes hallucinations?"

"Why?" Jack looked down to him.

"They sounded very nearly like words, though I could be mistaken." His voice was rather cold and curt, it had sounded dead since the accident with Shannon had happened.

"Do you think Sun can help?" Hurley offered, leaning out from beneath the bed. "she's good at understanding garble..." his face had regained a lot of color.

Both men looked at him seriously.

"She is Korean." Sayid said severly.

"It was a joke dudes..." Hurley retreated back under the bunk.

The four-minute alarm sounded overhead and Sayid rose to deal with it.

"The frog wasn't even that annoying…" Hurley mentioned offhand, trying to fill in the uncomfortable silence and relieve himself of his bad joke. He was looking at the palm of his hand where a faint red rash had appeared.

Sayid came back into the room, but remained in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe, looking up at Jack who was fumbling with the ice against Sawyer's chest, trying to keep it on him.

Jack didn't like the fact that Sawyer wasn't reacting to the ice, but he kept it to hismelf.

"If you will no longer be needing me Jack, I would like to return to the beach." Sayid said, not wanting to stay in the hatch anymore. Whether it was the company, the man in the armory,or the hatch itself–maybe all three – he didn't want to be here.

"I think I'll go with him." Hurley tried, beginning to rise, but Jack refused.

"No, Hurley. Stay still for at least another hour. If you're looking better by then, you can leave." Jack wanted to keep an eye on him, just to be on the safe side.

Hurley sank back into the bunk begrudgingly, but didn't say anything.

"You can go Sayid." Jack said, turning back to Sawyer, who was mumbling even more loudly, but still as incoherently.

"Thank you for your permission…" Sayid said beneath his breath, then turned and left.

Jack ignored it, until Hurley commented. "Are things alright between you two?"

"Yeah Hurley, everything's fine." Jack sighed.

Hurley nodded to himself, not liking the heavy silence that suddenly filled up the room again, especially put off by Sawyer's fevered mumblings. And sticking it out for as long as he could,he finally surrendered,"do you wanna put on some music? It'll help this go by a lot faster…" he stuck his head out and looked up at Jack, who after a moment, agreed.

"I'll get it, you take it easy." Jack said when Hurley moved to rise again. Jack took the time to remove the towel from Sawyer's chest, figuring he'd brought his fever down as much as he could before he soaked the entire bed with water, and pulled the sheets up to Sawyer's waste, before climbingdown and going outto the record player, depositing the towel into the sink. He chose a vinyl at random and put it on, before returning to the room. Hurley had lied back in the bed, an arm thrown over his eyes.

Jack took a seat at the desk chair, rubbing his hand over his hair agitatedly. It wasn't an infection, so he couldn't cure it with antibiotics. He didn't have the proper equipment to filter out whatever kind of neurotoxin it was. And most of all-

"Can I tell you something?" Hurley asked suddenly.

It took Jack a minute to realize what Hurley had said. "Sure Hurley," he cleared his throat and sat forward in his chair.

Hurley took his arm off of his eyes and looked up at the bottom of the top bunk. "Doctor, patient confidenti-whatever still applies on the island after all this time? Right? I mean, between me and you? You won't tell anyone?"

Jack managed a small, breathy laugh remembering last time Hurley had started a conversation like that. "Just tell me what's going on."

"Back home," he pursed his lips, "I won the lottery."

"Really?" Jack asked after a moment, having expected it to be something embarrassing or medically related, anything but that.

Hurley turned onto his side, propping his head up with his hand, "I won a hundred and fifty six million dollars."

"Okay." Jack said casually, figuring this was eventually going to lead somewhere.

"Do you ever just want someone to believe you? Even if it goes against everything normal?" Hurley asked. "But you know that if they agree with you, then it'll make it all better? At least make it so that you can stand it?"

"I'm not really sure what we're talking about here…" Jack said, confused.

"You know those numbers we have to type in every 108 minutes?"

"Yeah."

"And you know those notes the crazy French chick wrote down?"

"Uh-huh."

"And when Locke was gonna light the fuse to blow open this whole underground cement time bomb thing?"

"Hurley…" he just wanted to know.

"I think those numbers are cursed." Hurley spat out quickly.

"What? I didn't-" Jack hadn't understood him.

"The numbers dude. 4, 8, 15, yadda yadda," he looked rather sheepish as he said this, "I think they're cursed."

Jack slid himself back in his chair, letting his hands drop into his lap. "What makes you say that?"

"I used them to win the lottery, then all this bad stuff started happening. My grandpa Tito, he died. My mom, she broke her ankle. I got accused of being a drug dealer…"

"Wait a mintue, someone accused you of being a drug dealer?" Jack couldn't help but smile at this.

"Yeah." Hurley stated understandingly, "I know. Right? So anyway, all this bad stuff. And now the plane going down, the mean scary loud thing in the jungle, the hatch, the doom button…"

Jack went to open his mouth, but Hurley cut him off.

"And if you're just gonna say it's all in my head or I'm being crazy or there's no such thing as curses, then don't. I don't want to hear that I'm wrong." His voice became desperate, "maybe I am wrong! I don't know. Or maybe you're all wrong! But the fact is that nobody knows where the hell we are and what the hell we're going to do if we never get off this stupid island!"

"Whoa, Hurley, calm down." Jack was out of his chair and had his hands held out defensively as he came up to him.

"No! I'm not going to calm down! I'm tired of being pushed around and stepped on and taken advantage of! The only one who freakin' believes me is a French loony! It isn't fair! I don't want to be here anymore! I never wanted things to change! I don't deserve this crap! I'm a nice guy!" he paused, "and I'm going to puke!" He held his lips together as his cheeks swelled in an attempt to vomit. Jack swung himself back, but kept one hand on his shoulder.

Hurley didn't end up vomiting, just dry heaving. Chances are there wasn't anything left in his stomach to throw up, but the possibility was real enough.

"Just take it easy." Jack sat down next to Hurley on the bed, putting an arm around him comfortingly.

"Dude," Hurley whimpered, pressing his knuckles up to his eyes, trying to fight back tears, "this place is the worst."

Two hours later Hurley had managed to calm down, get some rest, and regain all of his color back, even managing to hold down some water, which Jack assured him was a very promising.

He convinced him to stay in the hatch a little bit longer, at least until the alarm went off again, then allowed him to go back to the beach. Advising him to take it easy for the rest of the day and drink plenty of water, then also telling him to tell Kate and Locke if they were still out there to continue not letting anyone in.

Jack yawned widely after Hurley had left, rubbing his eyes and turning his attention fully back to Sawyer.

Sawyer's mumbling had quieted, but his lips were still moving.

Jack climbed up the ladder. "Sawyer?" he asked rather loudly, hoping that maybe he could take the upper hand of this situation like John had suggested. "Sawyer?"

Sawyer jerked his head to the side and mumbled something.

"Where are the guns Sawyer?"

He mumbled something else.

"Where did you hide the guns?"

"…Tampa Job…" he caught those two words through a string of muttering.

"Sawyer. Where are the guns?" he asked again.

"…Sawyer…" he seemed to mimic Jack's voice, but his voice slipped into a gruff, incomprehensable whisper and Jack sighed irritably, rubbing the stubble across his chin.

Maybe Kate was right. She'd been helpful before, let her take care of him, let him be her problem. But the thought of watching the two of them together, having things in common and those looks they gave each other, the thoughtmade his insides tighten.

Jack climbed back down and the urge to think of something else immediately took him over. He went out and changed the music, taking his time to look through the albums, seeing if he could find anything he'd actually heard of, putting on something soothing.

poor sweet Hurley-bird. the kid's got it rough. so i made him get better quick.

although that island has a way of getting people on the mend much faster than it would usually take too...so who knows. maybe i was channeling the island.

or maybe i'm just and idiot. all's fair.