Disclaimer: No matter how much I'd like to, I'll never own Lost or its characters or its beautifully crafted plotline... I also borrowed some lines from the show as sort of markers so you can tell where the scenes go... it may be a bit confusing at times so I hope you guys can figure out what goes where and when...Also, the artwork by Edvard Munch is real... you should check out "The Dance of Life." Pretty freaky.

Note: Written after/takes place during The Whole Truth. Sorry if its a bit choppy... It parallels the show, but I'm not going to rewrite the whole show with my new character included. So it works like this: Most scenes take place in between scenes of the actual show. The rest are extensions of actual scenes... finally a decent-lengthed chapter...

Also, many flashbacks... hope you guys can figure out where... it should be pretty obvious.

Also this opening is a shout out toEvangeline Lilly and Dominic Monaghan for getting engaged and whatever...Something I kind of randmly thought up one day...anyway, enjoy. And please comment!

Sawyer woke to an all too familiar sound. He hated the creaking, croaking sound those damn tree frogs made. The headaches he suffered from as a result of losing his glasses had only been aggravated by the frogs. Now that he had found a new pair, his reason for hating the sound was more personal. He killed the first one out of annoyance, but it brought him. He abhorred the sound.

But hadn't he killed that thing? He forgot for a moment the fact that since there was one it meant there were several hundreds or possibly thousands more in the jungle waiting to meet their end by the means of Sawyer's wrath. He looked over and saw one in the sand near his left foot. It seemed weird that it was out there, in the open, on the beach. But the reason it was there was unimportant. What mattered was that it was right there. Easy for Sawyer to kill without much effort.

He got up as quickly and fluidly as he could to not scare the frog off and stomped his foot down on it. But the frog wasn't in that spot anymore. It had hopped a nearly a yard to a new location. It made its guttural frog noise. Though just a noise, it felt like the frog was taunting him. Sawyer could swear he heard the frog goading him, almost "you can't get me," as Sawyer tried to tramp it.

He followed it, attempting to kill the frog every few steps but missing each time. And now there were more, each with their own particular sound, their own little insult with which to mock Sawyer. There were so many now, but he couldn't kill one. They all escaped the heel of his boot.

The frogs were leading him into the jungle. He followed the frogs into the entrance of the jungle. Just as soon as he stepped past the first bordering trees, the sounds stopped and the frogs were nowhere to be seen.

Rather, Charlie was sitting there on a fallen log, changing the bandages on his fingers once again. He sat there, left leg crossed over his right, his left hand spread so he could write whatever the hell he was trying to write. Sawyer wondered about the bandages. They had been missing since Charlie had been kidnapped. He seemed to be writing on the tape on his pinkie finger.

Sawyer squinted a bit to see what he was writing. The letter K. Kate?

Just then, Kate wandered into the jungle just where Charlie was. "Hey."

Charlie stood from the tumbled tree and pocketed the Sharpie with which he had just been writing. "Hi," he responded with a grin. What the hell was going on?

Then, Kate wrapped her arms around Charlie. He embraced her as well. She pulled her face back for a moment and then planted her lips on Charlie's.

Sawyer immediately ran toward the couple and tried to pull Charlie off of her but found himself unable. "Kate? What the hell is goin' on here?" Sawyer yelled, disgusted by Kate's choice. Charlie? Sawyer continued shouting angry comments to the couple but they continued to snog.

He couldn't stand it anymore. He punched Charlie in the right cheek, hard enough to bring anyone down. But Charlie didn't budge. He simply pushed Sawyer and Sawyer came down hard into the sand. Humiliated, Sawyer tried to get back up, but was kicked down again by Charlie. The sound of the frogs returned. The poured in from all around, circling Sawyer, belittling him. They were everywhere, everywhere, every…

Sawyer awoke with a start. From where he lie, he could see Charlie strumming a tune on his guitar. He realized right away that it had been a dream. A very real, very freakish, very disturbing dream. Still, it frightened him. He pondered the significance of the dream for a moment, then decided to try something else.

He marched on over to Charlie. "Stand up," he commanded.

"Hmm?" Charlie said, setting his guitar down softly so as to not damage it. He slowly rose to his feet,

"You heard me, Chucky," he said through his teeth, grabbing Charlie's shirt by the collar and pulling it up so that Charlie had to stand on his toes to reach the ground. Charlie struggled to get loose but he was no match for Sawyer.

Jack and Kate were watching from nearby. Jack started up, but Kate stopped him. "Wait, Jack… if this is something between them, Sawyer's not going to listen to you. Let me sort this out if it gets out of hand."

"Kate…"

"Listen to me. You look tired. What have you been doing down there in the hatch anyway?"

"What? Nothing. Maybe you're right. I'll lie down."

"Bloody hell, man, what did I do this time?" Charlie half asked and half yelled as he thrashed about trying to get in a more comfortable position but making his condition only worse. Sawyer pulled the shirt up more.

"Stay away from her," he said heatedly "and no one get's hurt."

"Sawyer, I haven't been near her… honest… I swear… Claire doesn't want me…"

"Not Claire, dimwit."

"Daphne? I don't… What are you talking about?"

Sawyer let go of the shirt but walloped Charlie in the face, throwing him against the ground. He was now on his stomach in the sand. He hurt, but not badly, and was a little shaken up. He didn't say anything to Sawyer, hoping possibly the raving lunatic would forget about him and move along to do something else.

"Stay away from Kate," Sawyer said in a craze into Charlie's ear. Charlie couldn't believe what he had heard. Kate? Charlie hadn't been near Kate. He hadn't done anything to her, said anything wrong… Charlie had to wonder. Sawyer seemed to be a chip short of a Happy Meal in the sanity department…

"Sawyer!" Kate followed Sawyer close behind as he went back to his resting place. "What the hell was that? What were you thinking?" She, of course, chastised Sawyer rather than helping Charlie who still rested on his belly in the sand. "Answer me."

"Just needed to clear something up," he said calmly as he sat down.

"You're insane," she said as she turned her head to see Charlie helping himself up. "Please give me… some explanation of why you're doing this."

"Just making sure you get all that you oughta have, Freckles."

"You're sick. I'm going to go help him."

"Don't do that, Kate."

"What is wrong with you, Sawyer?" She went back to help Charlie, who was already back on his feet and getting some water. Sawyer followed her.

"Kate, wait…"

"What? Why are you acting like this?"

"I had this dream."

"A dream? And so you decided to knock Charlie around?"

"I wasn't gonna hurt em bad. He just riled me up is all…" Suddenly he realized what he had done was a little harsh, especially based on nothing but a strange dream. "I just thought you deserved better than that."

"What?"

"Well, thanks. That makes me feel all warm and fluffy inside," Charlie said when he saw that Sawyer had become a bit more composed. "Deserves better…" Sawyer gave Charlie a spiteful look. "Well, I guess you won't be doing me any more favours then?" Charlie said jokingly. Hopefully, ending this on a light note would prevent Sawyer from beating him up yet again and put him in friendlier spirits.

Ana-Lucia nearly knocked Charlie over as she ran past the group on the beach at a hundred miles an hour. "What kind hurry is she in?" Charlie wondered aloud as she raced by.

"You were running like the devil's chasing you," Locke told her when she found him. Daphne watched Ana-Lucia and Locke chat. Jack was resting on the beach. She had overheard Charlie earlier in the day. Henry was in the hatch. It was a secret, she guessed. Kate didn't know. Now was her chance to make a little visit to the hatch.

Daphne sat on her bed, sheets hot and uncomfortable in the summer. The air conditioning was broken and all she had to do this late at night was flip channels on the television and hope that somewhere on the five hundred channels provided by a certain satellite network there was something worth watching. She had just gotten over an obsession with a certain television show about teenagers who fought off forces of evil. But after buying all seven seasons on DVD and watching them nearly all day for five months, she needed a new obsession.

Nothing was on. Nothing was ever on. Stupid television… news, news, local programming, news, not English, not English, infomercial… Wasn't anything decent ever on T.V.?

She flipped through a couple hundred channels, ready to turn of the television at any moment. Finally, she arrived at MTV. She almost changed it over to the next channel, but then something caught her eye. She saw him. Who was this guy?

Daphne was frustrated when the song was over, just a few seconds after she changed the channel to see him. He spoke… British accent? She thought she was in love. She sat up in bed, listening intently to what he had to say.

Well, not really what he had to say but how he said it. Nothing he said really stuck to her, but the sound did, and the intonation. She couldn't get over his accent.

What she did catch, however, was the name of the band. She took a pen and wrote one letter across each of her fingers, left to right. Driveshaft.

"Hey..." Daphne knocked on the only locked door when she found the hatch. So this was what they were talking about. The hatch… but there was no time to marvel about this place now. The counter, the computer, how old was this place? But she had a mission to accomplish.

"Daphne?" answered the voice behind the door. The door seemed paper-thin; sound travelled through the door perfectly, but it looked quite sturdy. "Can you get me out of here?"

"No. I don't know the combination."

"Are you alone?"

"Yeah."

"Good. So… when do you think you can bust me out?"

"I don't know… I'll need to get the combo first, and I have no idea about how that's gonna happen."

"So… did you tell anyone, prove I'm innocent?"

"Only one… but she doesn't know you're down here."

"Oh… so it's a secret. That's good for us. I know at least a few people know. Locke… pay attention to him. He hates that Jack is in charge. I bet you can start a little rift there…"

"I already have."

"Good job. And well, Jack knows. And Sayid. He tortured me. If you could see me you would know just how badly…"

Daphne almost started to say that Charlie knew as well. But she couldn't. She didn't want him to get involved with this mess. He already was.

"Anyone else know?" Daphne asked him through the wall.

"Big black guy."

"Oh. And that's it?"

"Yes. So, how did you find out?"

"I heard Jack and Locke arguing about it," Daphne lied. Henry wanted to drive a wedge between the two. Anything to keep Charlie out of this was important.

"Good," Henry smiled. "Now, remember, if they ask you about me, what do you say?"

"You are Henry Gale. You came in a smiley-face balloon with their wife. You buried her there… you helped me survive after I escaped."

"Very good. Stick to that story. But if you don't, if you tell them the truth, if they get wise to everything that's really going on, you know what we'll do."

"I do," Daphne said quietly.

Daphne decided to check out the hatch. It was weird. Two bunk beds, a record player with a records from bands no one had ever heard of… Geronimo Jackson? And a pretty decent-sized library of all kinds of books.

She arbitrarily pulled a book from the wall. She read the title. Expressionalism of the Early 20th Century. She flipped through it, not really expecting to find anything of interest. But she came upon one of her favorite paintings. "The Scream" by Edvard Munch. She kind of felt like the guy in that picture right now. Alone, frightened, ready to scream.

She turned the page. She next painting troubled her a bit. The girl on the leftmost side of the painting looked exactly like Claire. She had the same face, the same smile… she wore a white dress. On the opposite side of the painting was a woman clad in black. Daphne saw herself in this woman. She looked at the name of the painting. "The Dance of Life." That was life…

She heard someone walk in and hid behind the counter, dropping the book. Jack strolled through and sat at the computer. He had almost forgotten about the hatch. But he made it back in time, and sat down at the computer. He only waited for about two minutes before the siren started. He pushed in the code, then took off to take a shower. He had nearly forgotten his shift. How could he let that happen? He wouldn't let anyone know about this.

As Jack stepped into the shower, Daphne moved from behind the counter. She looked at the computer. There was something she was supposed to do with the computer, but she couldn't for the life of her remember. She didn't think she would actually ever get here. She didn't think there was a hatch. She slipped away to safety, nearly running into Locke who was just now coming in to shave.

"Daphne, I'm not finding this Brakeshaft band section anywhere."

"Driveshaft, Mom. Driveshaft…" Daphne sorted through the D section. Flip. Flip. Flip. She spied it and seized it from the shelf. She looked at the price tag. $20.00 for a CD. This is just what she had been worried about.

"Daphne, twenty bucks for a CD? Wait until it's been out for a bit, the price'll go down…"

"No. I need it now. Please. My grades are good. I… this is all I need right now. Just this… I'll do anything. Chores… just name it. I need this CD." Daphne's mother noticed the sense of urgency in her voice. And her grades had been quite remarkable lately.

"Okay, Daph." Daphne hurrahed and gave her mom a huge hug.

She practically ran with the case in hand to the checkout counter of the record store. She tapped her right shoe against the tiles of the store impatiently as the clerk rang up the album and placed the money into the cash register. As soon as she had attained her CD, she ran moved aside and started unpeeling the plastic wrap around her CD. Her mother took the change and receipt.

Daphne hated all of the wrap the stores put around the CDs. Finally, she had removed the plastic wrapper and the stupid tamper-proof stickers surrounding three of the four sides of the case, and whisked it open and pulled out the leaflet. She flipped through it, searching for the man's name. Finally, she arrived at the last page, a picture with the four band members standing shoulder to shoulder with each person's name written below.

She saw him, standing second to left, and gaped. He was beautiful. "Liam- vocals," She read aloud. So that was his name. Liam. She had found her new man.

"Hey, Daphne… could I tell you something?" Hurley said as he came upon Daphne, walking toward camp.

"Yeah, what's up Hurley?"

"Y'know that peanut butter I gave you?"

"Yeah… you don't want it back or something, do you?"

"What? No…" Hurley said. "Just, don't tell anybody about it, okay?"

"Why not?" Too late. She had already given the jar to Charlie, whom she expected to give the jar to Claire.

"Well, I've kind of been hoarding food, if you can't tell. And not really… telling anybody about it."

It made sense. The plane had crashed more than two months ago and Hurley was bigger than ever. "So, why'd you decide to tell me?"

"I guess, to get it off my conscience. I thought that if I told a couple of people about it, I'd feel better. But I don't."

"Well… what can I do to help?"

"Um… I don't know. I guess I just wanted to tell somebody."

"Well, your secret is safe with me unless you want me to share it with everyone."

"No, no. I'm good. Just… here's a chocolate bar. I kind of got caught by Sun earlier… but she seemed occupied with something so she didn't notice. I was lucky. Which is kind of opposite of the norm. Next time, I won't be."

"Hurley… what do the numbers mean?"

"What? The numbers… they're unlucky, dude. I don't know what they mean, but it's not good. They're cursed." Hurley remembered the CD case. "Why do you have those numbers on your CD case?"

"I… I don't remember. I just thought, the way you responded to them when you looked at the case, you were freaked. I just thought I'd try to see what was up."

"Man, promise me you won't go searching for the numbers. It's not good news."

"Right." But Daphne couldn't promise anything.

Daphne watched Charlie from afar while he roped bamboo reeds together with Sayid. She remembered an earlier encounter. Charlie had been wearing a grey striped sleeveless shirt. She had examined his tattoos from afar.

On one arm there was a tattoo she could not remember reading about. She recognized it right away still. The elvish symbol for the number nine. But nine what? Now she pulled the Oil Change case from her pocket and looked at the numbers etched in the cover. Why had she let them ruin the case? No matter… she read the sequence of numbers. Four. Eight. Sixteen. No nine. That was a good sign. The numbers weren't related to Charlie. If they were, the Others might have another reason to be after him.

On the other arm she remembered reading "Living is easier with eyes closed." She could relate. She wished she could close her eyes to the truths surrounding Charlie. From looking at him, she would never have guessed that he was a drug addict and a murderer. He had even supposedly set fire to camp once… he didn't look the part at all.

She remembered how Liam had acted the night she met Driveshaft… she now attributed that behavior to the drugs. But Charlie wasn't like that… he hadn't been since the plane. And he didn't seem to be a murderer. Not at all. But he had killed Ethan. Ethan had seemed kind to Claire whenever Daphne went along with them… he was creepy, yes, but… why would Charlie kill him?

She watched him. With everything she knew about him, she couldn't help but still love him. She wished she didn't. She wished she had someone to move on to, somewhere to go. But she didn't. And wasn't it fate that brought them both on this island? It had happened for a reason. And if she didn't love Charlie anymore, no one was there to fill the gap. And she couldn't let that happen. But she couldn't just close her eyes to all that he had done. Or could she?

Ana-Lucia approached Sayid. Daphne didn't like her. She gave off a kind of weird vibe that she didn't like.

"Sayid, can I talk to you?" she asked.

"Of course."

"Alone?" Daphne decided that this wasn't her place. She stopped watching Charlie and walked off. Maybe that was what was best for her.

Daphne waited outside. It was freezing… but it would be worth it. She just knew it would be worth it. Any minute now, the band would come walking out that exit door.

"Daphne, are you sure they're coming out that door? They probably left already…"

"Just wait, Mom. I know they're coming. I can feel it." Two hours previous, Driveshaft had finished their set. It had been her first concert ever, the defining hour of her life. Until she saw them again, she would never be so happy again… and now was her chance to meet them.

"Well, I'll go warm up the car real quick." Daphne's mother left her there for a moment for the car.

The show had been surprisingly empty… apparently no one had known about it. Otherwise, it would have been packed. They were all the rage in Europe, or so she had heard. So why was she the only one waiting for the group after the show?

Finally, she saw them. It was HIM. Liam. Close behind was his baby brother, Charlie. She approached Liam.

"Excuse me, mister Pace? Would you mind taking a quick photo with me?"

"Bugger off, I've got better things to do with my time," Liam said as he continued down to walk away. Charlie stopped.

"Liam, you're joking right?" Charlie said, surprised, grabbing Liam's shoulder. He turned around. Daphne couldn't believe her ears. She wasn't even sure what was going on… was she really hearing what she thought she was?

"No, I'm not. I've got places to go, birds to see."

"Liam. What the bloody hell is up with you lately? Stop being such a git. She's the only one here… she's probably been waiting since we got done with our set. She deserves this."

"Okay, Charlie. Since you won't get off my back…"

In a moment Daphne's mom was back, actually surprised that Liam was out here. So this was the guy Daphne had been raving about for the past eight months. She feared that Daphne was wasting her life… he was stumbling as he walked and was probably completely smashed. She idolized this guy… she might have to have a talk with Daphne in the morning.

"Mom… take a picture of us, please," Daphne said as she handed the camera to her mother. Daphne stood in front of Charlie and Liam and her mother snapped the photo.

"Alright, are we done?" Liam asked. Without waiting for an answer, he promptly left the scene.

Tears welled up in Daphne's eyes. For most of a year she had thought of nothing but Liam Pace. Was he really like this? She realized that she really knew nothing about him. She had read numerous magazine articles about Driveshaft. The band seemed down-to-Earth, funny, cool… but wait. Had any of those interviews even been with Liam?

Daphne began to walk away with her mother toward the car. "Hey…" she turned around to see Charlie following her. "I'm sorry about the way my brother acted. He's been rather off lately. Hopefully it'll pass. I appreciate it, you staying after the show to wait for a picture. We are in a bit of a hurry… It's a shame I don't have a pen or marker… I'd sign your ticket stub or something."

"Thank you," was all Daphne could muster.

"Well, good luck. Get that picture developed. Someday maybe, you can come see us again. We'll both sign it." Charlie smiled and gave her a small kind of embrace. "Sorry."

Charlie ran off after his brother, yelling at him for his behaviour. He wished he knew what the bloody hell was up with Liam.

Daphne closed her eyes in the passenger seat of her mother's sedan. She remembered the interviews that she had posted all over her walls at home. Who had answered those questions with such cleverness and good humor? Charlie. Who had written all of Driveshaft's songs? Charlie. And who had asked his brother to talk to Daphne in the first place? Charlie.

Maybe she had it all wrong. For eight months she had been obsessed with Driveshaft. With Liam. But Liam wasn't Driveshaft. Charlie was Driveshaft. Liam was just the poster boy, handsome and tall, with an amazing voice.

Before, she had seen Charlie as only the peculiar-looking little brother. But in reality, it was his band. And he was a decent person. He had given her a chance, actually talked to her. She hadn't accepted this before because she had no reason to. She didn't know that Liam was the way he was.

But Charlie had been kind and considerate and funny… maybe she could get over the way he looked… maybe she could love him. This could be the start of something great, a devotion based on something real rather than on something superficial… She could love Charlie for himself, and nobody could ever tell her anything that could change her mind about it.

"Hey Daphne, y'hear the news?" Sawyer asked, spying Daphne returning to camp from the jungle.

"Hear what?"

"Sun's having a baby."

"What? Are you sure?" Daphne asked, hoping it wasn't true. If the Others found out about it, they'd take her as soon as possible. Daphne wasn't exactly sure what was done to Claire at the facility, but she could guess it wasn't too pleasant.

"Yep. Pregnancy test proved positive." Daphne frowned. "Don't know why there were any on the plane. I've actually got a decent stockpile of em… oh well, makes about as much sense as everything else on this island."

"Well, that's good for her." Daphne couldn't help but feel a little happy for Sun, who had been quite kind to Daphne ever since she had been here.

"I'd like to see fight that breaks out if the baby comes out half black."

"You mean Michael?"

"Yeah. It almost seemed there was something going on between them a while back… wait a second. You didn't ever know Michael!"

"But, you guys are talking about him sometimes… his son Walt was taken away and he went after him, right?" Daphne stammered.

"Right." Now Sawyer was suspicious. She was right. They had been talking about Walt's disappearance with little thought about hiding certain things with Daphne. They had said more then they should. But how the hell did she know he was black? He wanted to ask her more questions but she had already run off. Dammit.

Charlie awoke to harsh pangs in his stomach. God, he was hungry. He rose to see the Sayid was still up. Did he ever sleep?

"I see you are up." Sayid said when Charlie sat up.

"Yeah… do you have any food?" Charlie said, wiping his eyes and pulling his hood from his head.

"No, Charlie. Before you get up, I would like to discuss Daphne."

"Yeah, what about her?"

"When she spoke to you… did anything about her seem out of the ordinary? Was she acting peculiarly?"

"A bit, but I might chalk that up to being nervous about talking to me. She's a big fan of my band," he said, half-smiling as he did it.

"Charlie, you must think hard about this. Did she mention anything she should not know about?"

"Hey, Sayid. What's this all about?"

"I believe that Daphne was lying to us. Before you disagree, please consider the thought. Do you recall any such blunders on Daphne's behalf?"

Charlie had to think for a moment. "Perhaps… she seemed to know about the hatch. And she seemed to kind of remember meeting me on the plane. But not wholly. And that doesn't mean anything, does it?" He then thought about the peanut butter. He decided to keep it secret… it wasn't really important. He still wondered how she knew, though.

"No. It does not. But I feel that she possesses information that could be of use to us."

"Alright, Sayid. When we'll get back, I'll talk to her. Maybe she'll open up to me. She does idolise me after all."

"Right, Charlie. That is all. If you want breakfast, you will have to gather yourself. It seems that the only sustenance around this area of the jungle are those papaya." He pointed to a nearby tree with large, green fruit. "You may wish to gather some for Ana-Lucia as well. The fruits are not much to my taste, so do not bother gathering for me."

"Well, thanks then. I guess," Charlie said as he got up to finally get himself some food. He didn't especially want to get her food. She was rather bossy and a bit bitchy at him. Oh well, he couldn't make everyone like him.

He thought of the peanut butter for a split second. No way, he told himself. That's for Claire. Someday he would give it back to her and she would accept him back.

Sayid watched Ana-Lucia sleep. He did not understand how she could believe Henry Gale's charade. Wasn't it obvious that he was one of the Others? Perhaps not so much to the rest of them as to him. He whole-heartedly forgave her for what she had done. It was not her fault. He placed full blame on Henry and his people. They had taken away his love.

But he recalled something that he had overheard Locke saying once long ago. The island will give you what you want, but you must give it something in return. Perhaps what Sayid really wanted was someone who understood him. Ana-Lucia had been a police officer, had killed people because it was her job, had probably lost friends or even loved ones to gunfire. She understood what it was like to wage war. Perhaps Shannon was the price. He hated thinking of the life of the woman he loved as something to barter with…

Still, he sensed a certain something about Ana-Lucia. She was sincerely repentant for what she had done. He understood her, and she him. She began to stir from her sleep. Sayid directed his glance to the space directly in front of him as she got up.

She noticed that he was watching her. "What?"

"Nothing," Sayid responded.

Jack and Locke stood just outside the hatch, away from a place where Henry could hear the two speaking. "You heard what he said. Ana-Lucia's going out there- the Others are dangerous. Who knows what they'll do to her?" Jack yelled at Locke.

"Jack, calm down. He could have been …" Locke stopped mid-sentence. He realized that Henry was not bluffing. Only one of the Others would unveil their plan in such a matter. And if he wasn't one of them he was both very daring and very stupid.

"Jack, have you ever heard about the Moroccan Crises?"

"Locke, what does that have anything to do with…?"

"Listen, Jack. Britain and France, after some tension, finally made an agreement, the Entente Cordiale. Germany wanted to see how strong this pact was. The Kaiser tried to separate the countries by driving a wedge in between them, but instead of destroying their truce it strengthened it. I hoping that's what we will be able to do."

"What has Henry been telling you?"

"We had a little conversation about Dostoevsky and Hemingway… I think he was trying to get me to question your authority."

"My authority, John?"

"He wanted me to take over. And I almost listened to him. I almost…" Locke hesitated, realizing how he had been played.

"But, you did get Ana-Lucia to question him before asking my consent. You let Sayid torture him after tricking me. And now, she's probably somewhere in the middle of the jungle right about to walk into a trap. And he's probably with her because he knows what's going on."

"I'm sorry, Jack. That was just what I felt needed to be done…"

"No, Locke. We need to come to an agreement with these things. And who do you think she got to go with her? Oh God. Kate." Jack made for the beach, running as quickly as he could.

Locke began to follow him, but a sharp pain ran up his right leg. He could barely walk. He staggered back into the hatch and decided to sit down for a moment until he was well enough again to walk.

Jack ran. What if Ana-Lucia had recruited Kate for her trek through the jungle? Kate could be in danger. And there would be repercussions about not telling her what had been going down at the hatch.

He thought about what he had told Sun. That she should tell Sun the whole truth, not hide anything from him. He was angry at himself for being a hypocrite. He hadn't told Kate because he didn't want her to worry. Buy maybe it was her right to worry. Maybe this guy should be of everyone's concern. Or maybe he was worrying too much… maybe he should keep it a secret.