Graduate school is no joke, so chapters might be even more delayed, I hate to say, but you know how I am about trying very hard to update! Oh and I just noticed that a year ago, I posted the first chapter. Wow, time flies, and only 17 chapters written. I'm so slow, folks. I don't know how you deal with me. Enjoy!

"Feels like déjà vu." Juliet said from her seat across the aisle from Jack. They had been in the air for a little over an hour, blue skies with light traces of clouds filled the open windows.

"What?" Jack asked with a light chuckle.

"You, me, travelling side by side." Jack smiled, nodding. "I gotta say though, the amenities of a private jet beat the Galaga's stiff bunk beds any day of the week." She wiggled into the plush seat just across from his.

He wouldn't tell her this, but he was much more comfortable in the air, as opposed to a tube that travelled underwater, and it wasn't all about the plush seating. There was something about being that deep underwater that made his stomach churn. He was on the verge of throwing up a few times, but consciously held himself together, barely. This was a much better way to travel.

"This is kind of our thing now, huh?" He joked.

"Mhmm." She hummed with a smile, watching as he returned it. She checked his handsome features, how difficult it was for him to take in the light moment, how his smile sagged a little on one side, which meant it was half-hearted, dragging with heavier emotions and thoughts. Must the man always be so introverted? Juliet wondered.

"You're worried." She commented. Was he that easy to read? He bowed his head and then looked up in front of him, his greatest fear realized and spoken.

"What if I'm too late?" With what Faraday had told him about the Smoke Monster and its growing power, he couldn't live with himself if something happened to any of his friends because he wasn't there to help them.

"You're not." She responded quickly, firmly. His care for his friends was one of the reasons she cared so much for him. He would do and give anything to make sure they were safe, and judging from how hard and how far he'd fallen to get to this moment, he'd given everything and then some. By her estimation, each and every man, woman and child on that beach were lucky to have such a caring man that would leap over mountains to protect them. It was a rarity in today's age to meet someone with his bravery and capacity for selflessness, and whether or not he liked the label, it made him a hero.

"They're not dead. They're alive and they're waiting for you. I'm sure Kate told them all what you told her, and the fact that she believes in you, means they will too."

He nodded in return, slightly sure that she was right, and that they were all fine, if only they would all stay that way until he could get to them.

Hours later, the lightening storm outside of the window was enough to keep Jack completely awake during the flight, which was still going well for all intents and purposes. Faraday wasn't lying when he said that Frank was the best pilot for the job. The storm had hit so fast, so suddenly, but he was calm and completely in control of the situation. He was what any good pilot should be, especially with the unpredictable conditions they were flying in.

He turned over to Juliet, who had fallen asleep some time ago. He remembered that little tidbit about her when they were just getting to know each other. She couldn't last long on an international flight before she was out like a light. She looked peaceful, even though storms rumbled loudly outside of her window.

Jack tapped his fingers against the edge of his armrests, bored with just sitting there, but thoughts keeping him preoccupied. An Electromagnetic Pulse Device sat in the front pocket of his pack. What a mouthful. What was the short form for it again? ELMA? That sounded about right, Jack thought. He rubbed his forehead as what Faraday told him came rushing back. If he didn't disintegrate this flux due to the hatch's implosion, then not only will his friends be in grave danger, so will the entire world. If he wasn't under enough pressure as it was, now he was responsible for the welfare of everyone on the planet. Things just kept getting better and better.

Saving his friends. Finding his destiny. Preventing world annihilation. Just another day in the life of Jack Shephard.

Breaking into a sweat with his constant worrying, Jack began to shrug himself out of his jacket. In the process of peeling it away, he noticed something poking out of the breast pocket, something he didn't remembered putting there. Reaching in, he sucked in a startled breath at the sight of his name written on the familiar envelope that managed to stay sealed for days now, even in the midst of his curiosity.

Christian's letter.

His eyes popped with panic, full-on amazement as a breath stalled in his throat.

"What the hell?" His voice was edgy and nothing short of stunned. Jack suddenly found the air too thick to breathe. He remembered leaving this letter in his apartment, placing it in the drawer of his nightstand for safe keeping. What the hell was it doing in his jacket pocket? Then he thought about the Island, about all the mysterious things that have happened to him since leaving, and particularly how Eloise Hawking knew about this letter and how she knew about his father to begin with.

As he recalled, Faraday never elaborated on who this mysterious friend was that Eloise owed a favor. Could it have been Christian? Could he have made assurances with Eloise that no matter what happened, his son was supposed to get this letter? But it boggled him how this letter came on the arrival of help getting back to the Island, and how Eloise knew with certainty that it was his destiny to do so. Were they interconnected somehow? Did his father know something he didn't?

Rhetorical question, as always. His father took more than his fair share of secrets to his grave, but somehow, he felt like the old man left one behind, just for him to know.

On impulse, Jack ripped the envelope open, and unfolded the single sheet of stationary, his eyes devouring.

Jack,

I know that I'm the last person you want to hear from right now, but I had to write this. I had to make you understand. I'm sitting here, in a bar, trying to come up with one reason why you should let me back into your life, why you should give me another chance at fatherhood and I can't come up with one. Pretty sad right? Which is why I thought I belonged here, half way across the world, where no one would ever think to look or care to come.

You must think that I'm angry at you, that I'm disappointed in you, that I feel betrayed by you, and worst of all, that I hate you, but you couldn't be more wrong. I am so very proud of the man you've become and it's my own fault for not telling you, for not showing you and that, more than anything else, is my biggest regret. Of all the achievements and accolades, I've done nothing greater than be the person you call Dad.

Jack looked up from the letter, his emotions caught in his throat as he struggled to breathe. He couldn't read anymore of this, the urge to breakdown ripped through him. His breaths came out heavy, labored, and panicked. These were the last words his father ever wrote, ever felt the need to convey to another human being and he was sick with the fact that days, maybe even hours after he wrote this, he was found dead in that alley, alone and filled with his regrets. His eyes couldn't stop themselves from soaking in the rest of the cursive penmanship.

You freed me son. You saved me, and that, after what I've done to you, is truly a miracle that I don't deserve, but am eternally grateful for. You have it Jack, you've always had it, from the second you were brought into this world and now, especially now, it's time for you to believe it as much as I always have.

I hope that one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me and yourself.

I love you.

CS

He felt the tears fall from his eyes, and just like that, he could breathe again. Everything he ever wanted to hear from his father was right here in his hands, an absolute blessing, and besides the watch that he left in Kate's care, the only thing he had left from his father of any true value or importance to him. He folded the piece of paper and was about to place it back into the envelope when he heard the rumbling outside the plane, dangerously close, the sky growling as the rainfall intensified.

The cabin began to shake, slightly at first, and then violently, seizing as it veered through the worst leg of the storm. Jack found it hard to stay grounded in his seat as he gripped the armrests with iron fists, struggling to stay put. Juliet was awake now, looking at him with fear-ridden, confused eyes that were still a bit subdued from sleep. He looked back at her just the same, his eyes questioning. He wondered what their chances were of getting to the Island safely or if they would have to consider an emergency landing until the storm passed.

"Frank?" Jack called out, trying not to stand and hurt himself if the turbulence hit again, which it had, knocking the plane around like a tin can in a wind storm. No one answered, eerie silence persisted.

He made the trek to the cockpit carefully, when the worst of the turbulence smacked straight through the plane, knocking Jack down to the floor. He crawled to the cockpit's door and grappled with the handle that wouldn't budge. He finally came through the door to discover an unconscious Frank, on the floor, bleeding at his temple, the blood dripping down his face.

"Frank!" Jack bent down next to him. He checked his pulse. It was dim, but there. Before he could react to anything else, Juliet was behind him, stepping into the cockpit and taking in the havoc.

"Oh my God." Juliet breathed.

"The turbulence must have knocked him out." Jack explained, forcing Frank's eyelids open and noticing not one shred of a reaction from his pupils, which were rolled into the back of his head. He smacked at his cheeks as he spoke. "Frank? Can you hear me?"

Juliet took a look ahead, out of the wide window and into the perilous sky, dark with storms. All she saw were grey clouds with small bursts of brightness from pitches of lightening that struck all around them. A crashing blow left her with nothing but worry. With Frank knocked out, who would fly the plane? Who would fly them out of this?

Jack turned to take in the same devastating look outside the window. They were miles and miles off course. He didn't know how he knew that for sure, but he did. There was no telling how long Frank had been unconscious. Jack knew he had to do something and fast.

"Here, keep his head level, try to wake him up." Juliet kneeled down next to him after Jack's instructions and took Frank's head in her hands, curious about what Jack would be doing in the meantime.

Jack reached the pilot's chair, stumbling through another tremor that ripped through the plane. He eventually got there and took another look out of the window, hesitating for the slightest second.

"What—what are you doing?" Juliet asked.

Not answering, Jack sat down behind the main controls and began to take the reins, pulling the steer back, into him. Every possible light on the dashboard panel was blinking, flaring out at him, an alarm began to resound through the tiny cockpit, adding to Jack's stress and Juliet's panic.

"You know how to fly a plane?" Juliet yelled over the alarm and her shoulder.

"I took a couple of flying lessons." Jack admitted while he tried to gain control, some of the lights fading out. "It wasn't for me."

"Then, wha—?" Juliet started, panicking.

"Just focus on Frank, okay? Let me handle the plane!" Jack screamed in interruption over the alarm.

Juliet patted Frank's cheeks, literally shaking him. "Frank? Frank? You gotta wake up!"

Frank stammered as he came back to consciousness with Juliet hovering over him, breaking into a smile at the sight of his eyes opening.

"Frank, thank God—"

Before she could express her thought, a blinding, powerful burst of violet light drowned them into oblivion, the intensity of the flash knocking her down and into him, whom she covered as a human shield. The flare quickly faded out, leaving them with the murky darkness of the storm. After she caught her bearings again, she looked down at Frank, who was okay, still struggling to gain consciousness, but alive nonetheless. She checked herself. She was okay too, nothing was broken, and she wasn't bleeding.

"Jack, are you—?" She looked over at the pilot's station and noticed something that her eyes couldn't believe.

Jack was gone.

Vanished.

"Jack?" Juliet screamed in petrified horror.

"What the hell was that?" Frank screeched in pain, his head throbbing and that Supernova-esque tidal wave of purple light didn't help to soothe him.

Juliet didn't know what just happened and found it hard to concentrate on anything else. Jack was gone. Literally no more. Tears came to her startled eyes. What was that flash? What did it mean for Jack? Was he dead now? Did he cease to exist? She couldn't think over all the questions budding to the surface, but the plane was still unmanned, probably mere feet from crashing into a mountain or the ocean.

She needed Frank to move it. That was what she needed. Everything else would have to wait.

"You need to get up and land this plane!" Juliet urged. Frank was slow on the uptake, struggling to comprehend what just happened, and what Juliet was demanding of him, still unsteady and weak. "Now!"

She helped him to his feet and back into the pilot's chair. He took the unsettled, shaking steer in his grasp and pulled as hard as he could backwards, leveling the plane in the air with everything he had to give, yelling at the pain it caused him, the strength it took to man the plane alone at this point. There were so many lights blinking at him, he didn't know what to take care of first. He punched at buttons on both the dashboard and overhead panels, some of the lights blinking away, but the alarm continued to beep. They were still hilt deep in the woods of danger, with little room to get out.

In the distance, Frank saw level ground, grass, and they were headed right for it. He thought his mind was playing tricks, but he saw something else that made him thank his lucky stars.

"What the—?" He whispered, befuddled. "Is that a—a runway?" He asked this louder, catching Juliet's attention. She looked ahead and saw the long sandy road amid fields and fields of grass that couldn't be anything else.

"Hold fast to somethin' sturdy!" Frank screamed, determination set in his grimace. "This ain't gonna be pretty!"

Juliet took hold of the co-pilot's chair, hugging it to her with all the strength she had left to give. She could feel every bump in the landing, every maneuver Frank made to make sure it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Then the jostle of the cockpit was the signal that the plane was on the ground now, the screech of the wheels as they bumped along the asphalt was her final cue, but they were still going too fast, warp speed, which couldn't have spelled good things.

"Brake damnit!" Frank bellowed, pulling at the lever right next to him in the median. He activated the emergency brake system and the plane soon began to slow down, the engine cutting out and the plane eventually coming to a slow, strenuous stop. Frank released a long sigh, closing his eyes, still woozy from the knock to his head. He'd had better landings, but that one, if his memory recalled, was the absolute worst, but they were safe. That was all that mattered.

Juliet kept her eyes closed even though she knew they were in the clear. Tears still stung them. She prayed for Jack, for his safety. She prayed that she could find him, wherever he was.

"Where the hell are we?" Frank asked, taking in the view past the cockpit's wide window.

Juliet finally opened her eyes as she let go of the chair that anchored her, taking in the same picturesque view of grass and mountainside. She knew this place. They were on Hydra Island and this was the runway that they were once building, but had long since neglected. For what they were building it for she never knew, but with how it came in handy just now, she didn't even care.

"We're on the Island." Juliet said, breathing heavily. She turned to Frank.

"But where's Jack?"

It was high morning; Kate was still in bed inside of the cabin. She tossed, changing positions every few minutes. She was more uncomfortable in this bed than she ever was in the sandlot she called a bed back in her tent on the beach, she mused while trying to find a comfortable spot. She simply couldn't rest now, her body somehow refusing her cause to go back to sleep.

Wide awake, she groaned, giving up the fight she'd been battling. She stayed reclined in the bed, looking up at the ceiling with sleepy eyes. Nothing had happened since she came back here. No whispers, nothing. She was positively bored with the uneventfulness of her days, but she'd done what she'd never been able to do in her life, stay in one place for longer than a day. Jack never thought it possible, she thought with a laugh. She pulled herself up and looked around her. Jack's watch sat nearby, still bright, its silver banding twinkled. A small, sad smile lit her face. He was in everything, in the things mostly associated with him and in everything else.

She wasn't sure what she wanted to do next. Find that lagoon a few yards out and wash up, maybe. She was in desperate need of a shampoo, her curls feeling more grungy than silky. She could go picking for fruit, since she was running low on the food that she took from the beach. She remembered trekking past a grove that she hadn't had the time or the attention span to explore at the time. She could do a number of things, but felt the need to just sit still for a second.

Like she had been struck by a clap of lightning, she jerked, her body seizing slightly, for mere seconds, but its effect reached her core, shaking her. Her face contorted in worry, panic. Something was wrong. Something was different. It was like the cabin was now on fire with an aura that built around her like four brick walls, ensnarling her. She rose to her knees in the bed with captivated wanting, the creaking of the frame was the only sound, every muscle in her body tensed, her breath stalled. She waited for the voice, that slow, soft whisper to greet her from out of nowhere like it had before, so that she could finally say something back, to communicate.

This time, it wasn't a voice, but a sensation that only one person could encourage inside of her, completely discriminate from all the others. She swelled with it, inflamed by it. Tears pooled her eyes.

It lifted her, took her breath away. She didn't know how this was happening, but blessings tended to work that way.

Instinctively, she knew, but she had to make sure.

She spoke, her voice crackling with emotions that she would never let out of her sight again.

"Jack?"

Jack's eyes opened slowly to reveal hazel orbs glazed over with unconscious blankness. He blinked slowly, then frantically, trying his best to focus his blurred vision and saw nothing but faint, blue sky. The sun was high, perched squarely at the center, beaming down with the heat of a thousand more just like it. His head was spinning and his body felt extremely weak. He felt himself sinking into the millions of grains of sand. He soon realized that he was lying on a beach, the tranquil rush of the waves met the shore a few yards from his feet.

Drained of any energy, he couldn't move, his chest rising and falling in rushed, panicked breaths. How did he get here? What happened to the plane? Where were Frank and Juliet? Was he on the Island? If not, where? That was when he felt it, the pain of an injury that he couldn't yet see, but knew was there, searing through his veins like battery acid. He felt around blindly, so tired he could barely hold his head up to get a visual. He felt dampness on the lower right side of his torso and brought his fingertips up to his face to inspect. Blood, and lots of it. Cherry red, viscous. This was bad, really bad.

His body's adrenaline wore down and the blood rushing from a deep laceration that stung like hell, was all he could feel, think about, pulsating through his nerves with fire and brimstone. Groaning, he grasped at it weakly, finding there was no immediate remedy, no easy fix. He could die right here on this beach from an infection, from bleeding out. What a way to go. The irony of it would have made him laugh until he kneeled over if his sense of humor wasn't clouded by the imminence of death.

His breathing still shallow and hoarse, he turned his head, his eyes growing wide with what filled them. What came into view was daunting and unbelievable, impossible. A statue of gargantuan proportions, of what he could only discern as a man of some kind, ancient and pagan in nature. It towered over him, a gigantic beacon that reached the sky without effort and could probably be seen from miles away. The distant caw of seagulls filled the air as they flew from the top of this sculpture his blurry vision still couldn't take in the details for.

Fear like nothing he ever felt before robbed him of concentration on those details, so he decided to count.

One. Two. Three…

Before he could get to four, consciousness phased out, leaving him passed out where he lay.