New Year's Resolution Number One: Get these chapters out to you all at a faster pace! So sorry about that. December is always a busy month for me. I hope your holiday season went well. I know mine did. Happy New Year everyone! Enjoy!
Jack pulled into the driveway of his childhood home. He cut the ignition with the flick of his wrist, his nerves completely shot. He was about to look his mother in the eyes for the first time since that last night before he left, in pursuit of the man he was supposed to bring back in one piece, his father. Just as he failed him, he had failed her, he thought as he opened the car door and climbed out. He rang the doorbell, plucking the sunglasses from his face as he waited. The large door came open and Jack smiled at the view of his mother, Margo. Her hair had grown longer, a little curl at the tips, dangling over her shoulders. She looked just as he remembered, her eyes the color of a thunderous sky, her hair dark brown with lines of grey at her temples, but her face displayed a little more wrinkles than he remembered; it showed how much worry and loss she'd gone through.
"Hi Mom." His smile was fragile, but full as he awaited her reply.
"Jack?" Her eyes were wide with astonishment. She gripped the fabric of her blouse, her heart beating erratically. This couldn't be real. Her only child, her son, stood in front of her, bigger than life, his eyes sparkling with joy at the sight of her. Her knees threatened to buckle underneath her. She made the first move, running to him, wrapping her arms around him, sobbing into his chest, her entire body rattled with sobs. He smiled with tears in his eyes as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. She was so small and fragile in his arms as she continued to heave and sob. He felt that if he held too firmly, he'd hurt her, but rushed the thought away as he tightened his grip.
Her voice was muffled against his chest, tears still evident in her tone. Her breath was caught in her chest, but she spoke over it. "Oh my God." She looked up at him then; a range of unbridled emotions played through her stormy eyes. She cupped her son's cheeks with her frail, petite hands, taking in the full view of him, the line of her mouth turning upwards into another captivating smile. "It's not a dream. It's really you." The smile he returned was a welcomed sight. This was no dream she'd ever had. This was better.
Jack nodded. "It's really me, Mom." He whispered with a laugh, his tears finally came down his cheeks, landing into his mother's palms as the gifts they were.
Margo's heart soared. "I knew you were alive." She confessed in between more sobs, rubbing her hands into the scratch of his stubble again and again. "I knew it." She brought him into her arms again, her hold impenetrably strong and unyielding. They stood in the doorway for what felt like hours, just holding each other. She sighed contentedly into his shoulder and in that moment, for the first time, Jack was home.
Moments later, they were settled next to each other at the island counter in the large kitchen. A coffee cup sat in Jack's hand while Margo nursed a glass of water. He looked from the dark, hot elixir in his cup to his mother, who hadn't taken her eyes off of him.
"You're staring, Mom." Jack noted, laughing as he took a sip from his coffee cup. She smiled, taking his free hand into hers, squeezing it lightly.
"Can you blame me?" She asked with a light chuckle, her small hand still covering his much larger one. "What happened?" Three months had passed and she hadn't heard anything from him, it was as if he vanished off the face of the planet. When he thought about it, the Island wasn't like any place that existed in the world. It almost felt like it wasn't a part of the world at all; it was its own world within the one he knew.
He cleared his throat and sat the coffee cup onto the marble counter-top. "There was a plane crash." Margo physically tensed, her hand still held his. "Besides myself, there were two others who survived, but they died shortly afterwards. Eventually, I was the only one left." He hated to lie to her, but he remembered what he was told on the submarine, about the Island, about not being able to tell anyone, not even those closest to him. "I survived in the jungle, made camp and waited, prayed that someone would find me. One day, rescue finally came…and here I am."
She brightened at the happy ending; the result was that he was sitting next to her. She couldn't have prayed harder for this moment if she tried. But a small thought nagged at her. How was it that she hadn't heard about the crash on the news? Why hadn't there been any coverage about a plane falling from the sky, literally disappearing? There were other passengers, people who had families of their own that were left without answers about their loved ones' whereabouts. It was the most vulnerable she'd ever felt, left without an explanation about her child's empty place in her life. "It must have been so hard for you."
He nodded curtly, swallowing her understanding. It was hard, harder than she could have ever imagined. He cleared his throat again, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "About Dad…"
She interrupted him, her voice soft, forgiving. "I know, Jack. I know." Something inside of her knew that she would never see her husband again, would never get to bury him, to have a place to go to talk to him. "It would have been nice to bury him next to his father and grandfather, to let him rest in peace, but when has he ever made it easy for us?" She leaned in slightly at the sound of Jack's light laughter, looking at her baby boy adoringly, still feeling the need to pinch herself. "I'm just so happy that you're finally home, Jack. I missed you so much."
"I missed you too." After he said it, she saw his face fall, guilt seeped from those emotional eyes of his. She knew her son, how to read him, how to understand him, and everything she would ever need to know always shown in his round, expressive eyes. She waited for him to say whatever it was he was struggling with.
"I'm so sorry that I couldn't bring him back to you, alive, in one piece." Jack wiped a tear from his cheek as the words came rushing like a tidal wave. "You were right. It's my fault that he left. If I hadn't ruined his career, maybe he'd still be here with us. Maybe…"
"No, Jack." She placed her hand on his cheek, wiping at another tear that seeped from his eye. He looked over at her. "I was wrong for making you feel guilty, for sending you after him the way I did, for making you believe that you were to blame." Her fingers wiped at another tear. "You're my son, our son, and you lost him too, and I didn't see that until it was too late. I'm so sorry Jack." He nodded, his eyes still wet with tears.
She rose to fill Jack's cup with more coffee. "I shouldn't have allowed him to be so hard on you. That's how this all started." She leaned into the edge of the counter across from where Jack still sat. "You never spoke to him when you were a child; it was like you were afraid of him." It was sad that he couldn't refute her claims, because she was right. It wasn't necessarily that he was afraid of his father; he just never knew how to talk to him, how to just…be around him, without that festering sense of tension and expectation. It was something he would struggle with for most of his childhood and well into adulthood. She handed the cup to him and he took it, setting it down next to him, listening to his mother intently.
"He would come home, tired, and he'd go to your bed room first thing, and watch you do your homework." Jack remembered those moments, how dwarfed he felt, how stuffy the room became every time his father stepped into it. "Then he got the idea about piano lessons and well, you know where that went."
"Yeah, I do. Three-hour sessions every night after homework. There was barely any time for much else." Christian pushed him so hard, at everything. Jack looked over at his mother and saw the tears falling down her cheeks, her lips tightened into a thin line. Those memories were really devastating for her, for some reason, and it dismayed him to see her so sad. He reached out and took her hand. "It wasn't your fault, Mom."
"Of course it was." She sighed with a light shrug. "I should have come between the two of you and helped you come to some understanding of each other. I sided with your father because I didn't have the strength to go against him. Thirty-three years of marriage, of being told what to do instead of deciding it for yourself will do that to you." She settled back into the stool next to Jack. "I loved your father, but he always expected too much of you too soon. You stood up to him. Maybe if I had, things would be different."
"I wish there was something I could do to honor him, you know? To make him proud." Jack admitted. Despite their differences, Christian, for all his faults and flaws, was a good man, a man that he looked up to. He would always miss that influence in his life, no matter how many problems that influence caused.
"You honor him and make him proud every day Jack, by being the man you are. But, now that you mention it," she disappeared around a corner for awhile until she returned again, "there's something we have to discuss." She approached Jack with a large white envelope tucked into her hands.
"What's this?" Jack asked.
"It's your father's last living will." Margo admitted. She opened the envelope, pulling the documents into the light. "It took me an eternity to find it in that pig sty he called an office. Why he wouldn't just give it to his lawyer, I will never know." She laughed nostalgically. "I wanted it read before his funeral."
Jack wasn't sure what the will had to do with honoring his father. "What does it say?"
"Well, the obvious loose ends that needed to be settled. He left me this house, the other properties and assets." Margo said. "Your trust fund is still there, you know. It's grown quite substantial over the past thirty-eight years and can make for—"
"I don't need money, Mom." Jack sighed, interrupting her. He knew where this conversation was going, and he wasn't in the mood to discuss it. He never wanted anything to do with his trust fund, the money that had been sitting in a bank account, accumulating from the moment he was born. He never found himself willing to use any of it; his salary was more than enough money for a lifetime or two, and since he was so good at his job, he was worth all the more.
"I know you don't, but you've known about it since you were a child, that it would be there, and it still is." She cocked her head at the rebelliousness in his eyes. "It's your birthright, Jack." A part of Margo had always felt like Jack's denial of it was his way of rejecting his family, his denial of being born into power and wealth. She knew that he would never touch it, so she decided not to be angry about it anymore, and instead suggest a way for him to make the money useful. "If you have a family of your own someday, you can use it to build your life with them."
He cleared his throat, signaling the end of his patience with the topic. "What else does it say?"
Margo gave up. "In addition to the charitable fund your father wanted to give the hospital in his name, he made a recommendation to the board of directors about who they should heavily consider for the Chief of Surgery position in the event that something happened to him."
"Who'd he choose?" Jack asked, taking a carefree sip from his coffee cup.
Margo waited a beat, completely focused on this moment and what it could mean for Jack and the legacy of her family. "He picked you, Jack."
Jack choked on the coffee that sat in his throat. He coughed, stammered, finally able to breathe again after a few more low, strangled coughs. His eyes rounded with alarm and panic, pure, unfiltered panic. "What?" His voice was squeaky, high, and hoarse. He suddenly felt claustrophobic, the wide, large kitchen seeming to shrink before his very eyes. Then, there was anger, blinding anger, because yet again, Christian had done something that was completely confusing to him, downright befuddling. "Why would he do that?"
"'Why?'" Margo's disappointment ran clear through her echo. "Because you're the most talented young surgeon in the city, in the entire state, maybe even the region and he wanted you to follow in his footsteps." Margo stepped closer, placing the will onto the marble counter-top. "He wanted you to have this, Jack, something that he cherished, that he worked hard for. He wanted it to be yours."
Jack turned into the counter, rubbing the back of his head, and then his forehead as his elbows rested against the landing. He was growing dizzier by the second; he had to actually focus on breathing, his mind reeling for an exit strategy. Bearing in mind how Christian parted with the hospital, how heavily would the board consider his recommendation anyway? Jack thought. He took a final, practiced breath and turned back to Margo, who stood expectantly by his side. Her heart filled with hope that fizzled as soon as she looked into her son's telling eyes.
He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mom. I can't."
The grin on Margo's face fell from her lips. "I can't?" Her discontent was more than enough to kill him. "Why not? There was a time in your life when you seriously considered being Chief of Surgery, when the time came. This is the time."
She was putting words in his mouth again, a habit that she didn't even realize she had. "No, Mom. There was a time when I wanted to earn it, because I deserved it, not because Dad decided to give it to me as a parting gift from the grave." Jack argued.
Understanding washed away Margo's urge to bludgeon her only child. "Is that what you think he did, Jack?" She didn't wait for Jack to confirm, his eyes, once again, told a pretty clear story. "Well, you're wrong. We talked about it a lot before you two had a falling out, before he left for Australia."
"What?" Jack asked.
"We talked about it a few years ago. You were still married to Sarah, and your father thought that it was time to consider retirement. Jack was stumped, completely and utterly baffled by what he was hearing. Retirement? Nothing about his father before he left signaled that he had a thought in his mind about retiring. If he recalled correctly, Christian was trying to hold onto his job at all costs, going as far as asking his own son to lie for him and with him. Jack was honest with himself, and he knew that it would take him a few more years at the very least to earn the opportunity to be Chief of Surgery. He had little to no experience with what it took to organize and direct an entire department. He knew nothing about the administrative duties of the job, and honestly, he didn't want to know. At his core, he loved to cut, and the Chief of Surgery position wasn't going to make that drive, that hunger any easier to satisfy. If anything, the dry bureaucracy that came with the job would eat him alive.
"It was a glorious dream for me, to have him home all the time, to take vacations, to do all those things we put off for his career. But when it came down to it, he just couldn't do it. You knew how he was, he couldn't breathe without surgery, the adrenaline rush, that need for control that you two have always shared. He wouldn't let go of it."
Jack stared off into the distance, a little more than overwhelmed by what his mother just told him. He had no idea that his father had planned to retire, to actually lead a life that wasn't driven by medicine. It made him realize that she didn't just lose her husband; she'd lost the hope of more time with him, the dream of more opportunities, of more of the life they promised to share with each other.
"So, he decided to play it by ear, take a few more years to see if he still had it in him to do the job, and then make a formal announcement, leaving the position to you, because, in your father's eyes, you earned it." She looked at him with such a pleading gaze. "He trusted you Jack, no matter how hard he pushed you. He believed that you have what it takes." At those words, something seated deep inside of Jack erupted. He turned away from her, rising from the stool, his patience bursting, his resolve cracking under the pressure. His father was dead and he still held the power to dictate his life.
He turned to meet her eyes, his brazen with anger, and his voice high and loud. "Did he tell you that, Mom? Because he sure as hell didn't tell me."
Tears threatened to flow, hot, angry ones that burned like acid. She had no idea the power that her choice of words held over him. She hadn't one clue about how he carried that with him to this day. He couldn't get tangled up in this, he still had to get back to the Island, a detail that he couldn't share with his own mother for fear that she would try and succeed at stopping him. Margo froze, her son's sudden anger startling her. He could tell that he wasn't helping the situation by the dejected look on her face. Her heart was breaking all over again, because he wasn't receptive to what she was saying, because it should have been coming from Christian, not her. He groaned. Why did everything always have to be so hard?
He approached her regretfully. "I'm sorry Mom, I just…" He didn't know what to say to make her feel better. "I don't think it's a good idea."
Margo approached him slowly, and took his hands into hers. She waited awhile before she spoke. "You will, Jack. One day you will…when you're ready."
The still, quiet morning on the beach played peacefully under the light brushes of sunlight that peeked through the strings of clouds and dusk in the sky. The wind was light, its breeze settling over the sand with a welcoming glide. The opening of a tent at the treeline was pulled back to reveal Jin, who was naked above the waist, a satisfied, sleepy smile on his face. Tiny hands skittered around his waist and landed over the muscular bulge of his torso, and a head peeked over his shoulder and landed there, her warm cheek settling over its landing. Sun. Her smile mirrored that of her husband, lazy, easy, and full. Despite the worry in their hearts for their friends, they were rather enjoying the renewed sense of passion in their relationship.
At the shore, Bernard sat with Vincent at his side, both watching the small tide come in, shifting the sand banks underneath it, and pulling the grains with it. This was an everyday occurrence for the two of them, a morning ritual. Bernard would wake and walk to the kitchen to gather his cup for his morning coffee and a small boiling pot to heat up the water he would need. Not a second too soon would Vincent show up, his snout at Bernard's heels, ready to follow his new friend wherever he would lead, man's best friend in every way.
Rose soon approached the scene with a bowl in her hand. She bent slowly, letting the bowl settle into the sand and Vincent instantly came to her, his snout buried in the contents of the dish, busying himself with satisfying his hunger. Bernard looked over at his wife as she rubbed the pup's back and ears, so gentle and loving was she always. She met her husband's gaze, and smiled as he motioned for her to come and join him. She settled into the sand next to him, his hand in hers allowing her to plop next to him without effort. Their eyes never wavered as they leaned in, a lingering kiss with the backdrop of the clouds parting to reveal the stinging rays of sunlight was a moment too picturesque, to perfect for words. They couldn't have picked a better retirement spot.
Hurley was a man on a mission. He stood in the kitchen, organizing and categorizing the inventory, and making room for the new arrivals on the makeshift shelves and counters. Ever since Kate, Sayid and Locke left in search of Jack, two more pallets of DHARMA supplies showed up in the jungle, falling from the sky and landing silently with the help of an expanded parachute, precariously close to the beach, to their camp. Canned goods of fruits and vegetables, dry cereal, oatmeal, candy bars, and other items were in abundance now. It was like someone knew that they were running low, and answered their prayers with more of what they needed.
Nearby, Aaron wiggled around in his crib, his small feet and tiny, balled fists pumped in the air unceremoniously, his little wails of discomfort cut through the nearby silence. Hands reached into the crib almost instantly in response, picking all nine pounds of him from his reclined position.
"It's okay, it's okay." Charlie cooed as Aaron wiggled in his arms, finally settling against his chest as he rose to walk around with him. "Good morning, Turniphead." He punctuated the greeting with a kiss to the infant's temple. "You sleep well?" In response, as if he could understand a word that Charlie was saying, Aaron yawned, his tiny body shaking, trembling as his little limbs stretched and flexed.
"That good, huh?" Charlie laughed. He turned back towards the tent, watching her beautiful, sleeping face with unrepressed rapture. Charlie could never resist waking up a little earlier to watch Claire sleep, her features softened, vulnerable, like a child. He could see into her soul when she slept. Sensing his eyes on her, hers fluttered open, the haziness of her vision caught the beauty of the man she loved holding her son high in his arms, bouncing around with him in a straight line drawn in the sand.
Claire sighed, shifting slightly to get a better view. "Hey."
"Hey!" Charlie chimed, walking towards the tent and settling next to Claire, who rose, anchored by her elbow.
She rubbed at her eyes, brushing the remnants of sleep away as she looked into Aaron's eyes. Claire reached for her son, who was given freely from Charlie's hands. She kissed the infant all over his round, chubby face, laughing at the giggle that unfurled from his tiny mouth. Charlie watched on with an aching heart. She literally lit up when she held her child in her arms. It was the most beautiful sight he ever did see. She sat up fully now, next to Charlie, with Aaron in her lap. She kissed the ball of his head, her eyes wandering in front of her, distracted, haunted. Charlie knew that look all too well. Her mind had gone back to Jack, Kate, Sayid and Locke. She worried constantly, and as the days wore on, she worried all the more.
"They're gonna be okay, you know." Charlie whispered, his attempt to make her feel better never falling on deaf ears. Claire turned to him, smiling sadly, but not able to hold up the pretense for long.
"They've been gone for more than a week, Charlie. Jack's been missing for much longer." Claire confessed, her grip on Aaron tightening as he squirmed in her lap, having had enough of his mother's affection. "I can't shake the feeling that something terrible has happened." Charlie brought a comforting hand to her back, rubbing up and down her spine soothingly. He knew that this had to be hard for Claire, who didn't have fond memories of the Others at all, neither did he. They both knew what it felt like to be captured, held against their will, even if they didn't remember the minute details. While Charlie tried to be the man, fearless and strong, the fear would always be real for Claire; the worry for their friends would always win out. Charlie felt helpless, powerless against what was happening to her, so he decided to do what he could, give what he could give.
"You know what we need?" Claire shrugged, not in the least bit interested in playing Charlie's guessing game. "A day away from the beach, from Aaron, from everything. Just you and me."
Claire smiled in spite of her harrowing mood. "As lovely as that sounds, who are we gonna get to watch this little one for us?" She brought Aaron up from her lap, snuggling his nose into hers, his gummy smile the perfect antidote. "It's not like we have people standing in line to babysit…"
Charlie had completely clocked out on the conversation, Claire's voice swaying in the background as his eyes focused on the figure approaching the beach. Long, dark curls blew in the wind, flowing off of fit shoulders that backpack straps were settled over, a rifle was slung over the left shoulder, a short stature growing taller with every step it took towards them.
"Kate?" Charlie asked absentmindedly. He couldn't believe his eyes. There she was, Kate, walking towards the beach, and no one else seemed to notice.
Claire shifted Aaron in her arms again, settling him into her bosom, where he would settle back to sleep. "Charlie, come on." She groaned, irritated with Aaron's protests and Charlie's inattentiveness. "Kate has been gone for days, or were you not listening to anything I just said?"
Charlie turned, confused at what she was implying, but then it dawned on him. "No. No. Kate!" Charlie pointed down the beach, where Kate, followed closely by Sayid, was making her way. "She's back! They're back!" This caught the attention of those who were peppered along the beach, turning to watch their friends approach them. They were safe, they were alive.
Kate and Sayid hadn't even made it past the last tent that bracketed the treeline before people started to run towards them, showering them with hugs and kisses. Hurley was the first to greet Kate, grabbing her and twirling her around in his arms, emptying every inch of Kate's lungs in the process. Sayid was greeted by Charlie and Jin, who were too excited to take turns greeting him, and decided to jointly hug him eagerly and fully from both sides. Rose and Bernard settled over Kate, suffocating her with love and concern in the form of tight embraces and firm caresses, and peppering her with questions as if she were their unruly teenage daughter, who had snuck out of her bedroom window in the middle of the night. They were truly the best parents she never had.
After Rose and Bernard moved on to embrace Sayid, Kate and Sun shared a touching moment of tears, both women filling up with emotion as they hugged, their eyes spilling over with their happiness. Kate pulled from the hug after a long moment, wiping at her tears when both she and Sun caught sight of Claire, standing on the banks of the group gathering, watching with confusion in her bright eyes. Aaron was settled over her chest, nestled into her, completely oblivious to the homecoming. Kate approached Claire with a loving smile and brought her into a hug, one that Claire couldn't help but return. They were like sisters, after all, bonded by Aaron's birth and so much more.
Kate pulled out of the hug, and brought her hand to Aaron's cheek, caressing it soothingly. Claire looked over Kate's shoulder, staring at the continued greetings and overflow of happiness and relief from the group. She looked into Kate's eyes, a question marked her brow.
"Where are Jack and Locke?" The smile fell from Kate's face, and all celebratory vibes washed into the coming tide.
Moments later, everyone stood in a vacant clearing right in the middle of the camp, staring at Sayid, who took the spotlight, garnering the attention and curiosity of every man and woman before him. Kate stood next to him, distant, distracted, and quiet. She wasn't at all in tune with what Sayid had to say, but she would allow him to do this. She knew that she was way too emotional to be objective, but Sayid's sentiment of betrayal wasn't without influence on him either, but he was much better at hiding it, or so Kate hoped.
Sayid placed his hands on his hips, his head swayed as he looked at everyone before him, eyes hungry for answers. "Jack and Locke are gone."
The group froze in shock and surprise, a random 'What?' mixed calamitously with the occasional gasp cracked at Sayid's composure. This would be harder than he thought it would be. Kate was visibly choked with emotion as she stood off to the side, one arm crossed over her middle while a hand lay over her mouth, watching the devastation play in everyone's eyes, in the features of their faces. It was like staring into a mirror.
"What do you mean gone?" Charlie scoffed, unfolding his arms. "What the hell happened out there?" Murmurs subsided so that Sayid's answer could be heard. His deep breath signaled that this wouldn't be a simple, short, concise tale.
"Kate, Locke and I followed a trail that led us to a compound of homes on the other end of this Island. This compound is where the Others live. Once we arrived, we caught sight of Jack in the courtyard of this community. He was living with them. He was alive and well, and he didn't appear to look like a prisoner." Whispers came from the group, mutters of speculation danced on the cool breeze. Some shook their heads in disbelief, while others stood emotionless, void of any reaction at all. "In spite of what we saw, we decided to go through with our plan to save him. We reached his barrack, only for our efforts to be thwarted and we were captured."
"The man we know as Henry Gale goes by the name Benjamin Linus, and he is the leader of this group. In the days that Jack has lived in communion with them, he made a deal with Benjamin." Everyone sat in bated breath for what Sayid would say next, hoping for an explanation as to why Jack hadn't come back with them. "Jack decided that he wanted to leave the Island…and…and he did so that evening, despite our efforts to help him."
Sayid brought a hand over his mouth, still unbelieving of the news that he was reporting, still angry and disappointed in the man he believed to be his friend. He caught the tears in Hurley's eyes and the twitchy shudder of his shoulders, the large man on the verge of a breakdown. Sun quietly translated the news to her husband, who looked positively perplexed once he realized what had been said. Claire bowed her head, the sand at her feet somehow mesmerizing to her now, her devastation plain to see. Charlie brought his arm around her waist in comfort. Rose and Bernard shared a wordless glance that nothing could be deduced from.
Sayid cleared his throat and continued. "We lost track of John. He was supposed to help us in our efforts to save Jack, but he tried to execute plans that he concealed from us. We believe that he's still with the Others, that they're holding him captive. They might have killed him by now, we're not exactly sure."
Everyone was so quiet, pensive, and crestfallen. What a blow they'd just been burdened with. Jack left the Island, without a word, without warning or announcement, and most likely, without a shred of guilt for leaving the people he claimed to care about completely unprotected. He was just…gone. Locke's fate was left in the hands of the people that they feared most of all, the kidnappers and murderers that tried to take so much from them. Now they had it all. Jack and Locke, the two men that despite their odds and differences, everyone trusted to protect them and lead the way.
Claire spoke up, her emotions caught in her Australian accent. "So, you're telling us that Jack left us behind, just like that?"
Sayid was left momentarily stunned by the bluntness of Claire's question. It wasn't like he hadn't expected it, but he wasn't sure how to answer. He knew that they all still held such respect and admiration for Jack, and he still did as well, which made his thoughts of betrayal and treachery on Jack's part all the more devastating. He would have to crush these people with his bare hands, and he honestly didn't want to. He opened his mouth to speak, when he heard Kate's voice crash through the silence.
"No." Kate spoke up, her voice loud enough for all to hear. "That's not what he did."
She braced herself in front of Sayid, standing tall, her emotions competing with her effort to get through this, to tell her side, to tell her truth. "I spoke to Jack before he left. Sayid is right about one thing, Jack made a deal with Ben, to leave the Island, but he has a plan that Ben doesn't know about, a plan that involves all of us."
"Really?" Kate turned to Hurley, who wiped at his eyes. The renewed hope in his eyes brought a smile to Kate's face. If there was anyone who trusted Jack as much as she did, if not more, it was Hurley. She approached him, and brought a comforting hand to his shoulder.
"Yeah, Hurley. Really." She looked to everyone else now, their eyes following her with unbroken concentration. "Jack left to bring back rescue." She said in an exhilarating rush. Confused faces spread and settled. "Everything that we've tried to do to get off this Island so far has failed. If Jack can figure out a way to help the rescue team find us and let them know where we are, then we're home-free. It's our best chance."
Charlie shook his head, his arms crossed yet again, only this time, they would stay that way. "So, Jack just decides to leave the Island without so much as a 'See you soon' and we're supposed to believe that he's off on some mission to bring back rescue?"
Kate, taken aback by Charlie's scolding tone, bit back. "Yes, that's exactly what he's doing."
"No. I don't think so. But you want to know what I think?" Charlie turned to the group, blocking Kate's impression from influencing anyone else. "I think that Jack finally cut his losses and found the perfect opportunity to bolt, leaving us here to fend for ourselves." Charlie's words sent the group into a bonafide tailspin. Everyone was talking over one another at this point, so loudly that it was hard to hear any one person. Kate was startled, a headache brewing. She could only take so much. Battling with Sayid was one thing, but taking on the entire camp was another. She allowed the barrage to continue, rubbing circles into her temples with her fingertips, defeated and suddenly too tired to stand.
"Hey!" Everyone turned to the back of the group, following the loud growl that cut through the raucous debate. Sawyer stood dumbfounded, a backpack full of filled water bottles fell from his hand. "What the hell is goin' on here?" As the crowd shifted, Sawyer caught sight of who stood at the helm of the group. His face was awash with relief as he drunk in the view of Kate and Sayid. He approached them eagerly, moving through the canal that split the group in half.
"Sayid? Freckles? Y'all back?"
Sawyer greeted Sayid with a solid handshake and a pat on the back. He had never been happier to see him. His eyes sought Kate, meeting her gaze pointedly with a bright smile. Kate could see the happiness, the longing in his eyes, and she wished that she could work up the nerve to even pretend to express it in return, but she couldn't. Sawyer wanted to wrap her up in his arms and never let go, but he could see in her body language that she wasn't receptive to it, that it was the last thing on her mind, the furthest from her present wants and desires.
"Hey James." She said by way of greeting, with a modest smile.
Sawyer approached her, his gaze worried, but incredibly happy to see her. "Did y'all find Jack?" He turned to the group, his eyes searching. There was no sign of the Doc at all and he had a sinking feeling that the heated dispute he just stumbled upon had something to do with that. His eyes combed through the familiar faces once more, and he realized that another crucial figure was missing. He turned back to Kate, his brows raised. "Where's Locke?"
"Well, apparently Locke is dead and Jack made a deal with the people who've been trying to kill us and left us here on the Island." Charlie scoffed, catching Hurley's annoyance.
"Dude, we don't know if that's true." Hurley pointed out impatiently, ready to pummel Charlie into the sand, which wasn't in his easygoing nature at all.
Charlie looked at his best friend as if he lost half of his brain. "Hurley, he's been with those people for days. There's no telling what they did to him, whether or not they turned Jack against us." Agreement with Charlie buzzed through the group.
"I was there, Charlie, when they captured us." Hurley said, visibly shaken by the rebirth of fear and anger that rose inside of him whenever he thought about it. "They shot us with tranquilizers, threw bags over our heads, tied our hands behind our backs and held us against our will. Jack wouldn't just forget that, no matter what."
"Well, explain Michael to me then." Charlie challenged. "He definitely forgot all about what those people have put us through when it came to getting what he wanted. He lied to us, he deceived us. He left you there with those murderers without a bat of an eye. How is Jack not doing exactly the same thing?" It was a question that Hurley could not answer with certainty. He believed Kate, who had never steered the group in the wrong direction, who would never lie about something as serious and as precious to them as getting off this Island. He believed in the good in Jack, in the kindheartedness that he'd always shown him, and he always would.
"Michael lured us into a trap, Charlie. That's not what Jack is doing." Kate pointed out defensively, ready to throw a fist to Charlie's mouth if it meant that he would shut up.
Charlie raised his hands, feigning compliance with a sarcastic turn of voice. "Oh, no, you're right, excuse me. He's just abandoning us when we need him the most. The lesser of two evils, I suppose." Charlie turned his attention back to Hurley. "After everything we've been through, explain to me why Michael came back and killed two of us and set that Ben person free. He killed Libby, mate." The stain of pure agony in Hurley's eyes was hard to ignore. Charlie immediately felt guilty for reminding Hurley of his loss, for being so reckless with his words. He regrettably wished them back.
"I don't need a reminder, dude." Hurley whistled through clinched teeth, a beat away from succumbing to the urge to strangle his best friend.
"This won't solve anything!" Sayid yelled for all to hear. "Jack and Locke are gone, but we're still here. We need to figure things out for ourselves. We still have to survive on this Island and tearing each other apart doesn't help our cause. It's time that we—"
"Stop!" Kate turned on Sayid, looking at him with such fire and defiance, still willing to fight. She turned to the group, disdain written all over her face. "I'm standing here telling you that Jack is bringing back rescue, that he's coming back for us, for all of us and you don't believe him? You don't believe me?" Everyone averted Kate's gaze, finding it hard to look at her now. Her eyes sought for understanding, but found none in those that she grew to trust. She had never felt more alone and vulnerable than she had in that moment.
"What about you, Sayid?" Charlie asked. "You were there. You saw Jack before he left. Do you believe that he's coming back?" Sayid looked over at Kate, who had closed her eyes at this point, turned her head, unable to watch. Sayid would tell the truth, this she knew, and it would be the final nail in the coffin.
Sayid turned to the expectant faces, his voice stern, tight, leaving no room for emotion. "No. I do not."
What little hope that some held for Jack was crushed by his response. Heads bowed, tears fell, and hearts splintered into millions of pieces. Charlie and Claire were first to part from the gathering. Charlie watched Kate regretfully as he retreated to his tent, obviously more hurt by Jack's actions than he was angry or spiteful. Claire hugged Aaron to her chest as her tears fell down her cheeks. Hurley, truly conflicted, didn't know what to believe now that Sayid voiced his opinion, agreeing that Jack had abandoned them. He retreated, wordless. One by one, the group dispersed, until Kate was standing alone, with Sayid at one side and Sawyer at the other.
He approached her, observing the tears burning in her eyes. "I'm so sorry Kate." She ignored his apology, lost to her disappointment. She wanted to punch him in the face for feeling sorry for her, for looking at her with such pity in his eyes, and most of all, for not believing her. Sayid slowly walked away as she wiped the loose tears from her face, her frown permanent.
She soon felt Sawyer retreating from her side as well, backtracking towards his tent without a word. "James." She called without turning to him. He stopped dead in his tracks, cursing under his breath. "You don't believe me either, do you?"
He kept his back turned to her. "Can't say I do, Freckles."
Kate bristled with exasperation and shrugged, her arms crossed over her chest in her classic defensive pose. She turned to him then. "You're mad at me for going after Jack, but I'm not about to apologize for it." Of course she wasn't, Sawyer thought. This was that she did, it was what she'd always done. It was their dance, perfected. He was growing so restless with it, but there they were again, arguing about Jack, and he hadn't even been in her orbit for more than a few minutes. Some things would never change.
Sawyer's defenses went up immediately, angling towards her with force, his voice two pitches shy of a growl. "I got every reason to believe that Jack's got this hunk of rock in his rear-view, with no intentions of ever coming back. It ain't got nothin' to do with you and me."
"It has everything to do with you and me." Kate argued. "We were there, they were gonna kill you and Jack saved your life, he saved my life." Kate pointed towards where the group was once gathered. "They don't know that, but you do, and you're still willing to believe that he just abandoned us?"
Sawyer bowed his head. He hated feeling indebted to anyone, so he simply never acknowledged any debt that was owed, even if it was the third or fourth time the Doc had saved his hide. "I call it like I see it Freckles. Always have, and always will. You wanna believe Jack because he saved your life, then that's your business, not mine."
"That's not why I believe him." Kate shot back.
She believed him because she loved him, Sawyer thought with a pressing blow to the chest. Deep down, he knew that and would always look at her and be reminded of it. How easy it was for her to tell Jack that she couldn't leave without him, even as his life literally hung in the balance. How intimate it felt to watch her simply talk to him over a speaker, exchanging the details of a moment they shared long ago, a moment that was obviously important to her, a moment that only the two of them had partook in and realized the depths of. How thoughtless of her own safety she became, just for his, ready to barter her well being like it meant nothing to her. The recklessness of wanting to turn the canoe around, abandoning their getaway and risking another round of capture and torture still made him stew, not only because it wasn't for him, but because he knew that she didn't think twice and never would.
He looked at her pleading eyes; she wasn't ready to be alone in this. He couldn't do or say anything that would make it go away for her and that was his biggest regret. His voice was soft and comforting, but firm. "I'm sorry Kate, but the Doc left and he ain't comin' back. The sooner you accept that, the better off you'll be."
He walked off then, leaving her completely alone in the middle of the clearing. She hugged herself, suddenly cold, shivering, fighting the urge to scream at the top of her lungs. The line had been set. It was her versus them, Kate versus the world. She knew what it was like to be called a liar, to be distrusted and blamed, viewed as a murderous monster and hunted as such, she knew it all too well, but besides watching Jack leave her side, nothing was more hurtful, no cut ran deeper. She shook herself out of the pity trance she'd fallen into and uncrossed her arms from her middle, her fists clenching at her sides, a stubborn crease set into her brow.
She wouldn't cry and she wouldn't relent. She'd wait, and nothing, and no one, was going to stop her.