concealment

by buffett-head

Jack hides his frustration over Boone's death. Definite Jate undertones.

Summary: Jack hides his frustration over Boone's death. Definite Jate undertones.

I do not own lost. Any similarity to other stories or actual events is purely coincidental.

Setting: A sort of suspended animation, it is set in S1 after Boone's death but before the raft sails. So Charlie and Claire are still close, and Sawyer isn't as much of a jerk as he is now. It takes place over roughly three nights and two days.

I tried to stay in character and keep the storyline of the first season in order, but there may be a few discrepancies. Italics represent a character's thoughts or are used to emphasize a word. This is the complete story. Review if you like, but my writing is like Charlie's guitar playing, it's about the music—or in my case the words—not the recognition.

What ever happened to Saturday night?

Choosing a friend and losing a fight.

She'd say 'tell me, oh, tell me. Are you all right?'

What ever happened to Saturday night?

'Saturday Night,' The Eagles

Concealment

She had been restless all night, and had decided to try and find some peace along the beach. It was late—very late—and Kate almost didn't see him sitting on the sand, near the place that they had first met. His knees were drawn up to his chest, and his arms rested on them. He was just staring out into the darkness. She stopped for a moment, deciding whether or not it would be a good idea to interrupt his solitude. With a sigh she walked his direction.

"Hey," Kate whispered quietly when she was a few steps away. He didn't respond, and in the pale moonlight she could see his face creased with frustration and helplessness. "Jack." She spoke in a normal voice. Still nothing. She took a few steps and sat down next to him. "Jack." She turned to face him, and nudged him gently with her elbow.

Jack blinked and took a deep breath as he came out of his semi-meditative state. Someone was here, asking a question. He turned his head toward the sound. "What?" He asked dumbly. He couldn't make out the shadow that was sitting so close.

"What are you doing out here?" She asked, and Jack recognized her voice immediately. He couldn't stop remembering the look of fear he had seen on her when he had yelled at her to get the alcohol. He squinted a little and saw that she was trying to read his thoughts.

Jack turned back to the ocean. "Just…thinking things through." He said after a moment. Then he said, "Thanks for being with Claire. You did a great job."

"Thanks." Kate smiled as she replied.

"Yeah, well, sorry I wasn't there. I…couldn't leave."

Kate looked at him as he spoke and Charlie's words came to her mind: He's pouring his own blood into Boone. Those words had been so unexpected; more shocking than when he punched the hole in Boone's chest after he couldn't breathe. She wondered what that night was like for him, and wished that she hadn't been selfish enough to demand that he leave Boone instead of just listening to Charlie tell her how to help Claire like Jack had asked her to. Jack's voice was calm, even a little detached. Probably because he's been through this before. She thought. He doesn't even sound upset. But his eyes were cloudy. "Is that what you've been thinking about?" She asked.

"A little." He still sounded distant.

"I hate to sound like a broken record Jack, but I'm sure you did everything you could." Kate soothed, hoping that he would hear it in her voice.

"Well it wasn't enough." He said edgily. "I'm just frustrated, exasperated, upset, depressed." The words came out fast.

"That's the most emotional I've ever seen you get." She laughed a little.

Jack smiled bitterly, "Yeah. I get pretty descriptive every time this happens."

"Every time what happens?" he looked like he hadn't heard her, so she repeated herself. "Every time what happens?"

"Every time I lose someone." And his voice returned to that miserable, distant tone as he looked down between his feet.

And Kate realized that he had been through this before. She knew that he couldn't save everyone, but seeing him like this made it real. "Hey, I didn't mean to—" She put her hand on his right forearm, but pulled back in shock when she felt scrapes and dried blood. "What happened to you?"

"I ran into some thorns on the way out here. It's no big deal." He dismissed her concern.

"At least wash—"

"I'm fine." Jack snapped back before she could finish. He sighed when he saw the hurt written on her face, but his voice was still tense. "I'm sorry. I just—I would rather be alone right now." He went back to staring past the waves.

"Everyone else is wondering where you are." She replied. "We didn't see you at dinner."

Patience returned to his voice, though Kate could see unhappiness in his eyes. "So tell them I'm fine. Thanks for coming out to find me. But please just give me one night to myself."

Kate shut her eyes momentarily in frustration and stood up. "Goodnight." She called over her shoulder as she walked away. She heard Jack grunt something in return.

When Jack was sure that she had left, he pulled a lock blade out of his pack and flipped it open. Slowly he drew the blade along the skin of his left forearm, and then expertly slashed at the skin and blood trickled out of a small cut. He stared at it for a moment before continuing to slice at his arm.

Dawn came and Jack finally stood up from his place on the beach. He shook his head and began to walk back to the caves. Past the little outpost of huts on the beach. Past the grave of Boone. Past the place where he had killed the marshal. At the caves he gathered a few empty water bottles and began to fill them. Because what else is there to do? He asked himself. Life goes on. He hated that saying. Whenever people said that, it sounded as if they were giving up. He shook his head sadly, loaded the bottles into his pack and trudged back in the direction of the beach.

When he got to the beach and found a large pile of empty bottles near the end of the trail. He shook his head hopelessly. A pile of empty bottles, but nothing ever gets done about it. He reached a cooler near the middle of the huts and unloaded the full bottles before picking up some of the empty ones and returning to the caves. He made two more trips because he couldn't haul all the bottles at once. After the last trip, he pulled out his own bottle and unscrewed the cap to take a sip. It slipped out of his hand and spilled out everywhere. Jack cursed quietly and shook his head in fury. He left the bottle and turned to walk away in disgust.

"You keep shakin' your head like that and it'll fall off" The low Southern voice jeered.

Jack turned around to see Sawyer standing near a tree. "G'morning Sawyer." He replied.

"You gonna grab that last bottle or do you want me to help?" he asked.

Jack couldn't decide if he was serious. "You get it." He refused to be pulled into a bickering match this early in the morning. He walked down the path and left Sawyer behind. When he reached the entrance of the caves, he leaned against the rock wall and shut his eyes. He hadn't been able to sleep all night, now he just wanted a nap.

Footsteps jolted him awake and his eyes surveyed the area to see what was happening. He spotted Hurley walking toward him with a leaf he was using as a plate. "You, uh, weren't at breakfast." He said when he noticed jack was awake. "Do you want this?" he motioned with the leaf.

"Sure." Jack stood up. "Thanks Hurley." He took the plate and picked at the food. After a moment he looked back up to see Hurley staring at him. "You need something?"

Hurley shook his head. "No." A pause, "Dude, are you alright? You look exhausted."

"Yeah, just didn't get much sleep last night." Jack smiled and took another bite.

"Okay." Hurley headed back to the beach.

When Hurley arrived he found some of the other familiar faces in a loose group near the end of the trail. He sat down next to Sayid and asked, "Have you, uh, noticed anything odd about Jack lately?"

"What do you mean?" Sayid looked at him.

"It's just that he looks so out of it."

"I imagine it will take some time for Jack to get past Boone." Sayid answered.

"Yeah, but, he's a doctor. Shouldn't he be used to this?" The talking stopped as everyone looked at him in shock. Hurley tried to explain. "Not that it's good to just forget about it. But this sort of thing has got to have happened to him before, right?" Still, no one said anything. "I'm just saying that he's not letting this go. You didn't see how he looked that night. He looked like a ghost. I thought he was dying."

"Hurley, Boone died in his arms." Kate stressed to try and make him understand.

Sayid nodded and looked at Hurley. "Jack knew Boone. That makes this much more difficult."

Michael spoke up. "Well, between him and Shannon we're going to be walking on eggshells for a while."

"Yeah," Charlie agreed. "Just give him some space for a few more days. I'm more worried about Shannon. Jack at least has…experience with this." He couldn't think of another way to put it.

Claire looked up in disgust at Charlie's comment and saw Jack coming down the trail. The others noticed the worry written on her face and turned to see what was causing it. Hurley whispered to no one in particular, "You don't think he heard us…"

Sayid shook his head and turned around. "No." He went back to finishing his breakfast and everyone else began talking amongst themselves again.

Jack smiled as he reached the group. "Morning," he said.

"Hey Jack, how are you?" Charlie asked.

"Good," he said, and then looked at Claire. "I just came by to see how you two were doing."

"We're good this morning." Claire said happily as she looked into her baby's eyes.

"Good." Jack studied the two. "No aches, pains, anything unusual for you?" He asked Claire.

"I'm tired and I've got a little headache, but I feel good." Claire said.

"Drink some water and take it easy today." Jack motioned toward the baby. "Can I hold him for a moment?" He asked gently.

Claire handed her baby over and Jack quickly and gently checked him over while he continued to talk to Claire. "If you've still got a headache in a couple hours, then come by and let me know."

"Alright." Claire said as Jack handed the baby back.

"Do you have a name yet?" He asked

"No." She answered. "But Charlie is calling him turnip-head until I do." The group chuckled a little when they heard this.

"Oh my God," Jack just shook his head. "Give that kid a name before you have to get him to therapy." After a moment he turned to the group. "Has anyone seen Shannon?"

"She is in her tent." Sayid replied.

Jack nodded. "Alright. Just keep an eye on her." He sighed. "And Locke is gone." He didn't ask it as a question, but the others nodded their heads or murmured yeses. "And Jin and Sun?"

Michael pointed down the shore. "By the raft; I was going down there in a couple minutes."

Jack nodded again. "Alright." He got up to move down the beach.

"Can I, uh, talk to you for a minute?" Kate asked, but her tone left little room for argument.

Jack turned to face her. "Sure."

Kate stood up and Jack followed her until they were just out of hearing of the group. She stopped and turned suddenly, looking him in the eye. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why?" Jack was a little confused.

"Because you don't look okay." She answered intensely.

"Kate I'm—"

"No!" She interrupted. "Don't even say that! You are not fine. You should talk about whatever it is that's bothering you, or at the very least don't cut yourself off from the rest of us."

Jack tried to keep his voice. "I'm not cutting myself off."

"Then talk to me about this." Kate shot back.

(Aside)

The rest of the group watched the two bicker back and forth, though they couldn't hear the exact words. Kate was becoming very animated and emotional while Jack just stood still. The tone of her voice made everyone nervous while Jack's voice remained cool and even. "I don't know how Jack-o puts up with that woman." Sawyer commented lazily while he leaned against a tree a few feet away.

They all heard Kate shout again and Jack's shoulders heaved as he sighed, but his voice remained the same. "They remind me of Jin and Sun." Charlie said after a moment.

"Dude, how?" Hurley asked.

"Because even when they're driving each other mad, they just want to look out for each other, you know?" Charlie answered.

Jack was trying not to lose his patience. "I'd rather not." He replied when she had asked him to talk about the situation.

"Then what is it going to take for you to get back to normal?" Kate shouted. I hate that he can stay so calm. She thought angrily. He never shows any real emotion.

Jack sighed. My God, she is exhausting. She won't let anything go. "Fine, Kate. You win. Give me half an hour and then we can talk if you want." Let's just get this over with and then maybe she'll let me be.

Kate looked him in the eye. "Really?" she asked, unsure if he was telling the truth.

"Really." Jack said. He took a step back. "We can meet where we sat last night. I've got a few more things to do, but I'll be there. I promise." He flashed a small smile and waited until she smiled back, then turned on his heel and headed down the beach to check on other survivors.

Kate came back and grabbed her backpack. "Way to give him space, sister." Sawyer said without even looking up from the book he was reading.

"At least I'm looking out for someone other than myself." She said angrily as she walked back to her shelter.

Kate was early, but she didn't care. She glanced at the watch on her left hand. Ten minutes, time to think of what I wanted to talk about. She thought to herself. She hadn't really expected him to agree to talk; she'd expected a lot more yelling and having to guilt him into doing this. Now that he had agreed, she was racking her brain to come up with what to ask him. She heard a stick crack behind her and turned to see Jack coming around a tree and onto the sunny beach.

He looked up in surprise and checked his watch. "And I thought I was early." He said with a small grin.

"Yeah." She agreed. Guess I'll just have to go off the cuff. "Listen, I'm sorry about being so…persistent earlier." She said softly.

"Don't worry about it." He waved a hand in the air. "Do you want to sit down or is this more of a stand-up kind of thing?"

"We can sit down." Kate said

They sat on the sand side-by-side and were quiet. After about half a minute of awkward silence, Jack cleared his throat and turned to Kate. "So, how does this work?"

Kate took a breath. "Are you still upset over Boone?"

"Yeah." He said quietly.

"Why?"

He sighed and looked out at the ocean. "Because he was just out of reach." Kate opened her mouth to speak but Jack went on. "Look, it's not just that he died. It's not just that he was my friend. It was the fact he would have lived if I could have stopped the blood from pooling in his leg. He was doing so well considering…the trauma he'd been through. I felt like I'd finally gotten control of the situation, and then something comes along…and I can't do a thing about it. No matter how I improvise or make do or…work with what I've got. When I realized that, I just felt helpless." He stopped to take a deep breath and calm himself down.

Kate noticed his forehead crease and his eyes flash, but he was still looking at the ocean. "Jack, everyone knows you did what you could."

He turned and looked into her eyes, and she was scared when she saw the emotion on his face. "He told me to stop!" Jack whispered fiercely.

"What?" Kate didn't understand.

"After Charlie left to help you and Claire, he kept drifting in and out of consciousness. I was going to amputate the leg—it was the only way to stop the pooling." He explained when she brought her hand to her mouth. "And right before I did, he woke up and told me not to."

His bottom lip trembled slightly, but he didn't cry. He's seems almost angry. Kate realized. She didn't know how to deal with this emotional side of Jack. Please calm down. She pleaded silently and then almost laughed at her ridiculous request. Wow, that's ironic. Just a half-hour ago I was complaining that he was so unemotional.

Jack took a breath and continued. "He told me that even though I had made a promise, he was letting me off the hook." He smiled bitterly. "That was what got me." He sniffed loudly in disgust at the memory, and then turned away for a moment before looking back and noticing the anxiety in Kate's eyes. His voice returned to that calm, detached note and he shook his head. "I, uh, didn't mean to freak you out."

"No, you didn't." Kate lied.

"Yeah I did. See, that's why I don't talk about these things." He stressed the word 'talk' like she had earlier that morning; and Kate thought he was upset with her until she looked up and realized he was smiling.

"Thank God I'm here to make you." She played along.

"Ah, come on. Guys don't talk about feelings. We just bottle them up and then explode one day when the lawnmower won't start."

"Been through a lot of mowers?" Kate asked.

"Four. And I don't even have a lawn." He replied dryly.

She laughed quietly at this and asked. "Why don't you talk about things?"

Jack sighed. "I don't know. I'm a surgeon not a psychiatrist."

She saw that he seemed to be more at ease and put her hand on his arm, feeling the cuts she had seen last night. "Thanks for talking." She said sincerely. Then she looked down at his arms and noticed the cuts were still red and fresh. "What did you do to that thorn bush last night?" She noticed how he flinched slightly when she ran her fingers over the cuts.

"They were vines." He said. "I got caught in one and then it seemed like the more I tried to unravel myself, the more the vines got tangled up."

"Oh," She said, still studying his arms. Underneath the fresh cuts she could see a crosshatching of white scar tissue, thin as a spider's web and running from his wrist to his elbow, but only on the top of his arm. She glanced at his other arm and noticed that it had the same pattern.

Jack didn't notice her studying him and gently took her hand off his arm. He held it for a second before letting it go to scratch his chin. "You know," He began. "When I was in residency, early on, there was a period where it seemed that everything I touched just got worse."

"What do you mean?" Kate asked in a tone that let him know she wanted him to continue. She knew almost nothing about his life before the crash, apart from that story he told while she was stitching his back. My God, I still can't believe he got me to do that. She thought to herself.

Jack continued. "I'd been a resident for about six months and was working mostly in the ER and trauma. I felt like I was really fitting in and getting comfortable. Then something happened and it just seemed like I was bad luck." He saw the confusion on her face and elaborated. "I mean, I didn't kill every patient I touched, but I lost a couple that were real tough to face, and made some mistakes that made easier situations…well, much more complicated than they should have been." He finished with a self-deprecating smile.

"I'm sorry Jack." Kate said softly.

"Yeah," The word came out a little cynical. He took a deep breath and continued. "I mean, it didn't matter what I did, I just couldn't get out of this funk. And of course, my father worked in the same hospital." Jack stopped a moment. "I could tell that he was disappointed. I mean, he didn't berate me or yell at me or even say a word about it at all. But I could feel it when he looked at me. I think that made it worse." He bit his lower lip a little and ran his hand over his crew cut. "So there was this period of about a month when I was absolutely inconsolable." He said with a short, scathing laugh. "I was not a very happy person, to say the least." He paused a moment.

Kate could see he was lost in memory. "How did you get over it?"

His eyes flashed with the same emotion she had seen when he told her what Boone had said to him. "I beat myself up about it pretty bad. Just wouldn't let myself have any peace." He shakes his head as he remembers. "Then one day, my father calls me to his office. I think he knew I was trying too hard. And when I get there, he's just staring out the window, sipping some ice water. He was quiet a moment, then without turning around; he asks 'Jack, do you remember what I said to you…'" Jack pauses a moment to keep his composure and Kate sees his eyes flashing between the sea and the sand. "Anyways, he says 'do you remember what I said when you were beat up for helping your friend?' I said yes. I was maybe ten, but I remembered that day—I didn't realize he did too." He looked at Kate and continued. "He turned around and looked me in the eyes. 'It still applies.' He said. And I just stood there, incredulous. Because what he had told me was 'don't be a hero.' I mean those were his exact words. 'You don't want to be a hero and try to save everyone. Because when you fail, you don't have what it takes.'" He paused again for another deep breath before he exhaled long and slow.

"Oh my God." Kate took his hand.

"Yeah, that was basically my reaction too." Jack laughed darkly. "I spent the whole day in this awful mood. Finally, about twenty minutes before my shift ended, this boy came in. He was about fifteen. I don't remember what happened—I think he was hit by a car while riding his bike or something like that. But right before he went under he looked me in the eyes and I could see that he was scared to death. So I pulled my mask down and asked his name—it was Jacob. I smiled as best as I could, and said, 'Jacob, don't worry. You'll be fine. I promise.' And then I went to work. We were in surgery for quite a while—I think it was four hours. The other doctor offered to come in, but I was invested, you know?" Kate nodded when Jack looked at her. "I was emotionally involved. So I stayed. And he was alright. And I finally felt better—I finally felt like I could do something right. With Boone, I was emotionally involved, but this time I couldn't help him." He wiggled his fingers in Kate's hand, and then looked up as if he just realized all that he had said. "I'm sorry for dumping all this on you." He said quietly.

He looks ashamed. Kate thought sadly. "Don't be. I know it's been hard for you, Jack. It's been hard for all of us. It's okay to feel a little overwhelmed by everything." She put her arm around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug. "Hey," She whispered, and he looked up. "I know you didn't want to do this, but thanks for talking." She said with just a hint of a smile.

"Your welcome," He squeezed her hand as a signal to stand up. "Just…don't expect me to make this a regular thing."

"Alright." She smiled but kept him in her embrace. You're not leaving yet.

After a few minutes, Jack cleared his throat. "We, uh, should probably be getting back."

Kate noticed the sun; it was almost midday. "Yeah, you're right." They got up and walked the short distance back to the beach side by side in silence. Kate tried not to smile too much, but she felt so special because he opened up a little and actually talked about what was bothering him. She stole a glance at Jack. He looked relaxed, but there was no smile on his lips. He wore the same expression he had the day before. It's that neutral 'doctor's expression.' She thought to herself. It must have taken years of practice to be so calm.

As they neared the trail to the caves she heard a southern voice "How was the Hug-fest Doc?" Sawyer asked with a mix of contempt and innuendo.

Kate felt her jaw clench in frustration, but Jack replied calmly to Sawyer, "It was great." He said with just enough of a smile for everyone around to notice. Jack stopped at the trail and looked at Kate. "I'll see you later." He said softly before walking away.

Kate stood there a moment, and then realized everyone was staring at her. "What?" She asked with irritation before walking away, but she could feel the heat rush to her cheeks as she blushed.

The sun was nearing the western horizon when Jack was startled out of his sleep by a pounding along the trail. He looked around in a semi-conscious panic until he realized it was Vincent. A few other survivors were sitting off to the side of the pool, and Jack could hear Charlie's guitar coming from somewhere. Walt came up the trail about a minute later. "Hey." He said to Jack cautiously as he walked over.

Jack was petting Vincent. "Hey Walt, How are you?" Jack asked.

"Good." Walt sat down across from him. "You look really tired." He said

"I'm having a bad week." Jack said.

Walt looked up. "That's what Mr. Locke said when we first crashed. Well, he said I was having a bad month."

"Why were you having a bad month?" Jack asked.

"My Mom had died, and I'd just met my real dad, and then we crashed here." Walt explained.

"That is a bad month." Jack agreed.

"Why were you in Australia?" Walt asked.

"My dad had died." He sighed. "But we weren't as close as you and your dad are."

"I'm sorry Dr. Shepard." Walt said.

Jack bunched his eyebrows and looked at him. "You can call me Jack." He said with a smile.

"Alright." Walt looked at Vincent before turning back to Jack. "Do you know how to play backgammon?"

"No, but I hear you're a bit of a hustler in that game."

"Hurley owes me sixty thousand dollars." Walt said proudly.

Jack laughed a little. "Maybe you can teach me how to play if I ever get some time for fun." He stood up. "Is your dad still at the raft?"

"Yeah." Walt took hold of Vincent's leash.

"I'll let him know I saw you." Jack walked toward the beach.

Jack reached the raft, and saw Michael and Jin working on it while Sun stood off to the side. He talked with them for about ten minutes, asking Michael about his construction techniques and communicating with Jin through a combination of pantomime and a little help from Sun. But other than a few laughs, he didn't get much said.

As he walked away from the raft he met Sawyer. "Afternoon Doc." He smirked as he went by.

"Sawyer," Jack got his attention.

Sawyer stopped and looked at him. "Looking for Kate?" he wiggled his eyebrows just a little.

"No," Jack ignored his comment and pulled out a small liquor bottle. He extended it to Sawyer. "Thanks for the alcohol. This is all that's left."

Sawyer took the alcohol, noticing the cuts on Jack's arm as Jack handed the bottle off. He didn't want the bottle back; he wanted it to be…something to try and show that he cared about other people in the group. Sawyer pretended to read the label and then shook his head. "Keep it Doc. It's not my kind anyways." He handed the bottle back and studied the cuts again. "I've got some copper tubing and was getting ready to set up a still." He grinned. Then he motioned to Jack's arms. "What happened to you?"

"What?" Jack asked.

"Say the wrong thing to Kate?" He insinuated with a smile.

Jack realized he was talking about the cuts. "No, just ran into some vines last night." He said as he put the alcohol back into his pack.

"What the hell were you doing last night?" Sawyer asked. He noticed Jack's sleepless eyes and pale skin.

"Thinking," Jack answered as he took a couple steps back.

"Is that where you were coming from this morning?" Sawyer tried to bring him back into a conversation.

"Yeah," Jack said over his shoulder as he walked away.

Bastard, Sawyer thought angrily. I was just asking what happened.

When dinner was ready the group gathered at the same place they had that morning. With all the craziness of their present situation they tried to hold on to some semblance of order, and mealtimes played an important part in that. Kate sat down near Jack and whispered playfully to him, "You embarrassed me this morning." There was a smile on her lips.

"What did I do?" Jack asked.

"What you said to Sawyer before you left; now everyone thinks we were doing something dirty while we were gone." She laughed a little.

"I'm sorry; I didn't know it was supposed to be a secret." Jack wiggled his eyebrows a little and smiled back at her.

Kate pushed him a little. "You're terrible." She told him loud enough for everyone to hear, but she was laughing as she said it. The two continued to banter back and forth, happiness in their voices. Locke had come into camp late that afternoon while Jack was still asleep, and Sayid managed to coax Shannon out of her tent for a couple of hours. The large group was circled around a fire in the gathering darkness. After the food was gone they stayed together for a few more hours, not wanting to leave their little community. Charlie was playing his guitar softly and most of the conversation had tailed off as people became lost in their own thoughts.

"What song is that?" Jack asked quietly.

"It's new material." Charlie smiled. "For the comeback album. It doesn't have a name yet."

"Let me know when it comes out." Jack replied. "I'll buy a copy."

"Only a million more and it'll be platinum." Charlie joked.

"I'm sure there're a few more people here who'll help you out." Jack continued.

"Did you ever hear our first album?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah," Jack threw a small stick in the fire. "It was good, but I never got around to buying it. I had a friend who played your albums constantly. One time I helped him in surgery and he played both your albums on a loop for fourteen hours."

"Whoa." Charlie said.

Jack laughed. "I mean, don't get me wrong, but after that long I thought I was going to lose my mind. But the surgery went absolutely smooth so I guess it did the trick."

"What the hell were you cuttin' for fourteen hours?" Sawyer's voice came from the edge of the light.

"Oh, that was a long time ago…" Jack trailed off momentarily as he thought. "I think the girl underwent a Tranforaminal Lumbar Interbody Fusion." He nodded his head once. "Yeah, that was it. We call it a TLIF. She'd been in a car accident the year before and her physical therapy wasn't helping. We went in and removed a bit of the bone and disc and then kinda…just screwed her back together. About the only thing I can remember from during the surgery is hearing 'You all Everybody' something like twenty-three times that night." He smiled at the memory and glanced at Charlie. "I saw her when she was checking out. She told me her friends had all called her the Bionic Woman when they came to visit."

"How old was she?" Claire wondered.

"Seventeen," Jack answered.

"Was she alright—after it was over?" Walt asked.

Jack paused a moment. "Not right away. She had more physical therapy when she was released. But I knew the therapist, and he said that the girl recovered."

The group was quiet and Jack knew he had shattered the relaxed mood. "Sorry to bring you all down." He said with a grin.

"No, it was a good story." Sun replied.

"Hey Jack, do you play? The guitar, I mean." Charlie asked.

Jack shook his head. "A little. My roommate in med school was awesome. He told me he learned to play because the finger-picking helped him during difficult surgeries. So I tried to pick it up." He laughed to himself. "I was much better at surgery than at playing the guitar." A few of the others chuckled.

The sky was now completely dark and the moon was rising. Jack stood up. "I'm going to turn in for the night." He stretched and looked around. "Good night, guys." Then he turned to Kate. "Goodnight Kate." He said as he walked away.

"Goodnight." Kate called after him.

"I think he's got the right idea." Michael agreed. The group began to break up as everyone moved to their separate shelters.

The moon was high and Kate was the only one still up. Sawyer had stayed awake until about an hour ago. He didn't say anything, just sat at the edge of the light. He was almost considerate tonight. Kate thought to herself. If ever there was a guy who needed to talk things out, it'd be Sawyer. She sighed and thought, He'll have to find someone else though.

She was just about to go to bed when she spotted movement out of the corner of her eye and froze instinctively. A human form came out of the jungle about a hundred feet away, and Kate recognized Jack's black backpack. He's still not sleeping. She thought sadly as he moved toward the spot they had talked earlier that day. She got up to follow him, but he moved fast and was already sitting down when she came around a slight bend in the beach. She stopped about fifty feet away when she saw him sitting down, his legs splayed out in front of him in a relaxed Indian style. She saw him shake his head and look down at the sand. My God, he's still upset. Kate realized.

She moved to a tree so she could see him clearly in the moonlight, but was hidden from his view. She was on his right hand side, and he was turned so that she could just see his face. I hope he doesn't cry alone. She was just about to walk up to him when she saw him pull a lock blade knife from his pocket and open it smoothly with one hand. In one motion he would open the blade, twirl it between his fingers, then close it, then open it, and twirl again before repeating the routine. The night air carried the crisp snap! every time the blade locked into place. She watched him for a couple minutes, admiring the performance. He probably learned that to impress his friends or try to get a date. She thought with a smile. She took a step toward him when he stopped spinning the blade and turned intently to something right in front of him. She paused, and it took a moment for Kate to realize that he was examining his left arm. After a moment she could see the knife moving back and forth. She couldn't tell what he was doing until the breeze carried a scraping sound that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. She listened hard, and realized that it was the sound of sharp metal over flesh. She shivered involuntarily, squinted and could see that each time she heard the scrape a dark line was drawn lengthwise down his left arm. She stared in horror, unable to comprehend what was happening. He moved the blade methodically from his elbow to his wrist. After about five minutes, he switched the knife to his other hand and went to work on his right arm. He was completely absorbed in his work.

Oh my God, was allKate could think. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. What's the matter with you? She screamed at him in her mind. She was crying silently now, but couldn't pull away from the sight. She sat behind the tree all night, watching as he alternated between sitting absolutely still and cutting himself. She finally realized dawn was coming when he grabbed his pack and slipped the knife back into his pocket. He stood up and took one last look at the ocean, running his right hand over his crew cut like he had done in front of her yesterday. Then he slipped towards the caves like a phantom.

Kate walked to where he had spent the night and kneeled down. A few tiny drops of blood peppered the sand. She ran her hands through the sand in frustration and disbelief, trying to erase what she had seen the night before. After a moment she picked herself back up and walked slowly toward her shelter. As she walked through camp she heard someone shuffling quietly and quickened her pace, hoping to catch Jack. Instead Sawyer appeared from a small group of trees near his shelter. "Mornin' Katy-did. You're up early." He spoke in a half-whisper as he laid a suitcase on the ground and began to searching through it.

"Where's Jack?" She whispered quietly.

"Honey, you and I both know he's set up in cave-town, and he doesn't make a water-run for at least another hour or so." He wasn't really paying attention to her.

"But he was just here. I just saw him." Kate said.

"Well then why are you asking me where he went?" Sawyer scraped the bottom of the suitcase a couple times. "Ha!" He smiled to himself, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

"Want one?" He offered as he lit his own.

"No." Her voice wavered slightly as she spoke. "Where is Jack?"

Sawyer looked up. "What's a matter with you, Freckles? You get scared by the boogey-man?"

"No." She said quietly. I do not want to be talking to Sawyer about this. She thought, but no one else was up.

"Did you two have a little fight or somethin'?" He began to smile. Then he saw that she had been crying. He took a long drag and exhaled loudly. "What's a matter?"

"It's Jack—" she began.

He cut her off. "I know that much. What about him?"

"He came back to the beach after everyone else had gone to bed. And he just walked down to where we had talked earlier so I followed him." She took a breath, expecting him to realize that something was wrong and ask her to continue.

"So…Why were you followin' the doctor? He probably just wanted to get away from having to deal with all the crazies who think they're coming down with deadly jungle fevers all the time." He bent down to put his stuff back in the suitcase.

Kate sighed in frustration. "You're not listening to me!" she hissed. "It was the middle of the night and he had a knife and—!" I don't think he's the one to be telling this to. Her mind cut in. Wait for Sayid, or even Locke. "And was whirling it around and cutting things all night long." Please just realize what I'm trying to say to you!

Sawyer waited a moment, as if he expected her to go on, and then took a final huff and dropped the butt of his cigarette. "Look, maybe that's just some wacko surgeon-society thing that keeps their skills sharp." He smiled at that. "No pun intended of course. People yack his ear off all day long. Hell, you yack his ear off all day long," he pointed at her. "And that's just the times I can't get y'alls' screaming outa my head. But as long as he ain't cutting up people or doing voodoo you should probably just leave him be." He sighed. "Didn't he tell you that men don't talk about things, or is he some kind of new-ager—?"

He was interrupted by Kate's voice. "He was cutting himself!" she said fiercely and sniffled slightly.

"What?" Sawyer asked in confusion.

"He was cutting himself." She repeated quietly.

Sawyer shook his head in disbelief. "No; that don't make sense."

"He told me he was upset about Boone."

"We're all upset about that."

"But I saw the cuts on his arms yesterday!" She countered.

"I thought you said you saw him do this during the night?"

"But I saw him the night before too." She took a shaky breath. "I mean he wasn't doing…that to himself when I saw him. He was just sitting there. That was why I wanted to talk to him yesterday; because he looked so depressed the night before. But I didn't even pay attention to the cuts.

Sawyer chuckled a little. "I asked him about those cuts. He said he got tangled up in some vines. I thought you'd gotten mad at him or something." He smirked.

Kate looked at him in disgust. "Go to hell!" She told him before starting for the caves.

Sawyer was thrown off-guard but caught up quickly. "Hey!" He said a little louder than he intended, and was quiet a moment to listen for anyone waking up. He heard only the quiet song of insects and continued, "Even if what you're saying's true, I'm sure you've noticed we're not exactly best pals—"

"I can see why." Kate interrupted. "He gave you respect, but you treated him like crap from the moment you met. I still can't believe he helped you with your headaches."

"Oh please, he didn't do that for me." Sawyer dismissed her comment.

Déjà vu. Kate thought as her mind went back to that day. She could hear Jack's voice, 'I didn't do it for him.' He'd told her with a tiny smile. That was as close as he'd come to admitting any feelings for her. Then she noticed that Sawyer was waiting for a response. "He helped you, even though you didn't ask. You know, I really did think it was all just an act for a while. I didn't thing anyone could be that self-serving—"

"What the hell are you gonna do about this then?" Sawyer interrupted. "He's a friggin' doctor! I'd think with all the schooling he got that somewhere along the line, someone would have told him, 'Hey! Don't cut yourself up. It's just not good for you.' That's not even doctor stuff; its common sense." He glared at her. When she said nothing he scoffed at her. "That's what I thought, babe. I don't appreciate the self-righteous—"

"Oh come on—"

"No, damn it! You come on! I know Jack thinks you're golden and can't do no wrong, but I have a sneaking suspicion there's a lot he doesn't know about you. Like why that Halliburton case is so precious." He says knowingly.

"He knows why that case is important." She spat back, remembering the painful details of that day. "He knows because I can trust him."

"Then if you two are so damn close, just talk to him! But don't drag me into the middle of your personal affair." Sawyer turned on his heel and left her alone at the edge of the trail, crying quietly.

When Jack woke up, the sun was still low and cool. I feel like I got hit by a truck. He thought sleepily. His arms stung slightly in the cool air and he sat up. Never thought getting hit by a truck would be the better of two feelings. Jack laughed to himself. I've probably been asleep for less than an hour. He grabbed a water bottle and made his way to a rock next to the pool, where he sat down and stared at his shoes.

"Jack." Sun's voice surprised him a little as he looked up to see her with some food. "Do you want breakfast?"

"Yeah," Jack took the leaf that she was using as a plate. "Thank you."

"Your welcome," She studied his face for a moment. "Jack, when did you sleep?"

"I just got up." Jack motioned.

"No, I mean, when did you sleep long enough to feel rested?" She asked gently.

"When Kate drugged me for the whole afternoon." Jack tried to laugh, but it came out as a sneer. Sun just looked at him knowingly.

"I'm alright." Jack continued to eat, and Sun left for the beach out of frustration.

Kate skipped breakfast and stayed in her shelter for most of the morning. What am I going to do? The question went round and round in her head. Dad would have loved him. She realized suddenly. Everything is so personal, so black and white; and its hurting Jack just like it hurt Dad. She stared at the ocean through a gap in the tarp that was her wall. She heard someone knocking outside her tent and told them to come in.

Sun entered, looking worried, as if she knew a secret. Kate could see Sun debate with herself for a moment before finally speaking. "I'm worried about Jack." She said quietly.

"We all are." Kate didn't know how much Sun knew about what Jack was doing.

"When I talked to him this morning, he was pale and red-eyed. He…he looked like he was dying." Sun told Kate.

"What about his arms?" Kate asked impulsively.

"I don't understand." Sun looked confused.

"His arms," Kate pointed to her own arms. "Were they cut up or bruised?"

"I didn't notice." Sun shook her head. "He won't listen to me, Kate. I tell him to rest and he won't. You should try and make him rest; I think he'll listen to you. He won't take care of himself unless you make him."

He'll talk to me, but he won't listen. Kate thought sadly. "I'll see what I can do." She replied.

"What do we tell the others?" Sun asked.

Kate stopped a moment. "Nothing, just tell them that Jack is tired."

"Yes." Sun nodded her head and backed out of the shelter to leave Kate alone.

Kate avoided talking to him for the entire day. She ran into him once, and stayed just long enough to study the cuts on his arms. When her fears were confirmed she made a joke about getting some rest before thinking of an excuse to leave. But she kept a worried eye on him; studied him when no one else was looking or he thought he was alone. Tell me why you would do this! She pleaded silently. And although she thought all day, she could come up with nothing. As dinner time came she took some passion fruit back to her shelter and told the others that she was tired and was going to bed early. I wonder if he'll do it again tonight. She thought as she lay on her blanket. I wonder how long he's been doing that. I saw the scars; this isn't something that he just started on the island.

"Hey Jack-o," Sawyer's voice outside her shelter interrupted her thoughts, and Jack answered Sawyer with a noncommittal "hello." Kate quietly adjusted the tarp that was blocking her view so that she could see out of a little gap. She saw the same group that had gathered for dinner last night. Jack and Sawyer were talking away from everyone else, closer to Kate's shelter.

"Have you seen Freckles lately?" Sawyer prodded. He smiled like he knew something Jack didn't.

"No, but I've been looking for her. I think she wants to talk again." Jack scanned the beach as he talked.

"How do you figure?" Sawyer asked.

"Because she's been avoiding me all day. She said hello once and then said something about helping Sun in the garden."

"Maybe you just made her mad and she needs a little space." Sawyer pointed out.

"Nah," Jack sighed. "Women are strange, man. When they want space, they'll tell you. But when they really want to talk, they'll avoid you and make you think they want space."

"How do you figure that?" Sawyer looked at him suspiciously.

Jack laughed and shook his head. "Learned it the hard way."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. It doesn't make any sense at all." Sawyer said doubtfully.

"Have you ever met a woman that makes any sense at all?" Jack smirked.

"Well, Amen to that." Sawyer chuckled, and Kate felt her lips curl into a smile. Sawyer leaned in and said something that she couldn't catch, but Jack shook his head and said "I don't think so." Kate saw anger flash across Sawyer's eyes for a moment, and then he pointed to Jack's arms. "What the hell kind of vines did you get into the other day?"

"I'm a doctor, not a botanist." Jack laughed.

"Well, Doc." Sawyer looked him in the eye. "It looks like those cuts are getting worse. They even look fresh."

Panic hit Kate as she realized what Sawyer was hinting at. Please don't let it come out like this. She thought. As soon as he tells Jack he knows, he'll tell Jack that I told him. Then what?

"Am I imagining things or is that concern in your voice?" Jack teased.

"All I'm saying is that your little girlfriend is worried about you. And I don't want you to pass out; cause then I'll have to take over until you wake up. God knows I can barely stand these people as it is. I won't be able to take a bunch of whiners talking to me all day and still be able to keep Kate company all night long." He said intensely.

Jack's eyes narrowed. "Thanks for the lecture." He replied coldly. "Where's Kate?"

"She's asleep right now." Sawyer said. Jack began to walk away when Sawyer grabbed his arm on the cuts and squeezed hard. Kate could see Jack wince in pain as he glared at Sawyer, who spoke again. "I think you should leave her be for a little bit. She didn't sleep well last night—said she was thinking about things." He let it sink in a moment. "And stop beatin' yourself up about what happened. Boone is gone, so just get over it." He let go of Jack.

A lighting bolt went off in Kate's mind. 'I beat myself up pretty badly.' She remembered the story he told her that morning. I thought he was just upset with himself, but that's what he did! Kate realized. That's when he started torturing himself.

"You weren't there!" She heard Jack say menacingly. "You didn't watch him die."

"But he did. And they tell me you did everything you could." Sawyer said melodramatically, waving his hands a little for effect. "But he still died. Let it go, Jack. Some things are fate, right? After all, that's why the Red Sox will never win the Series." He sneered and it became clear to Kate that this was some sort of inside reference. The two stared at each other for a moment before Sawyer turned and walked down the beach. Jack looked at Kate's tent, and then walked toward the group. "Hey," Jack smiled at Charlie. "What's for dinner?"

It was dark when Kate finally came out of her tent. Anger and screaming probably isn't the best way to figure out what's going on. She thought to herself. I just want to make sure he's alright for now. She spotted Jack sitting by the fire with a couple others, but no one was speaking. He stood up and then noticed Kate moving in his direction. "Hey," he said. "I was just coming to look for you."

"Did you get any rest at all today?" Kate asked.

"Yeah, I was just about to go get some sleep after I found you."

"Really," Kate said, clearly not believing him.

"Scout's honor," Jack raised his right hand and Kate couldn't help but smile.

"I mean it." She said. "I've got people checking up on you. If you're lying you'll have to answer to me." She tried to sound tough.

"Yes ma'am." Jack replied seriously, but he was smiling. Then he took a deep breath and looked her in the eye. "Is something wrong—I mean, it seems like you want to say something but can't."

Kate saw that he was genuinely concerned. "No, nothing's wrong. I'm just…worried about you." She grinned slightly, embarrassed by her admission. "That sounds stupid."

"No it doesn't." Jack moved like he wanted to pull her into a hug, hesitated a moment, and then took her left hand in his right. She squeezed his fingers in response. "We're okay then?" He asked her.

"Yeah, we're good." Kate said. She held on a moment longer and then let go. "Get to bed." She scolded lightly.

"Goodnight." Jack walked quietly up the trail.

Sawyer woke up when he heard scuffling and the patter of feet moving over sand outside his shelter. It was the dead of night, and he reached for his knife, thinking another boar was just outside. Instead the tarp parted and he saw Kate in the moonlight, out of breath. Startled, he grinned at her and set the knife down. "Well Freckles, I don't mind clandestine visits, but give me a heads-up next time if you want to do—"

"He's doing it again!" She cut him off with a harsh whisper.

"Who's doing what?"

"Jack is torturing himself."

"Kate, let it—"

"Get up!" she ordered.

"Excuse me?"

"Get up and see for yourself."

Sawyer sighed and stood up. He pulled a shirt on over the jeans he had fallen asleep in and slipped into his shoes. By the time he stepped out Kate was halfway down the beach.

"Hold on, woman." Sawyer whispered as he caught up.

"You've got to be quiet." She whispered. "Don't let him see us."

"Then how are we going to stop this?" He shot back.

"I'll think of something." She answered.

As they crossed the no-man's-land between the camp and Jack's house of pain, Kate turned to Sawyer. "What did you mean today? When you told him that the Red Sox will never win the World Series?"

"What?" Sawyer was totally surprised.

"What did you mean? It was obviously some kind of inside joke. I didn't think you two were that close." She snapped out.

"How did you hear about that?"

"I overheard your conversation."

"You were eavesdroppin'?" Sawyer seemed hurt. "You told everyone you were going to sleep."

"Yeah, well I was waiting to talk to Jack and you got to him first." Kate said.

"I can't believe he was right about that talking thing." Sawyer mumbled to himself.

"What did you mean when you told him the Red Sox will never when the Series?" Kate demanded.

Sawyer stopped and looked around. They were still far enough from Jack to remain unseen. He looked at Kate. "When I was in Australia, I met his father."

"How?" Kate was now the one confused.

"I was in a pub, and the only other guy there was an older man who claimed that he used to be a surgeon. Of course, he had no money left, so I bought the bottle I was drinking and we shared for a little bit. And he told me this sob story of how he had a falling out with his son. And even though it's the old man's fault the son blames himself over this little rift. And the old man told me that if he could just get up the nerve, he could call his son up, and tell him that it's not his fault, and things would be all better. But he doesn't call. He just drinks the rest of the night and wishes he had the guts." He stopped and looked at the figure of Jack farther down the beach. "Then he told me 'that's why the Red Sox will never win the Series.' When I asked him to explain, he told me it was fate that he and his son had a falling out. That he was so hard on his kid when he was growing up, that when the tables were turned, the kid was just as hard on him." Sawyer paused for a breath. "I didn't know it was his father when I met him. I didn't know it was his father until we'd been on this island for over a month. Jack was chopping wood and I stopped to talk to him. I don't even remember what the conversation was about, but I said something about fate and Jack looked at me and said 'that's why the Red Sox will never win the Series.' When I asked him what he meant, he told me it that his dad used to tell him that when bad things happened or someone made a mistake." He looked at Kate, who was staring at Jack across the beach.

"Does Jack know you met his father?" Kate asked.

"No. I didn't get to ask him if they made up after that night." Sawyer retorted.

"They didn't." Kate whispered.

"What?"

"They didn't make up after that." Kate explained. "I asked Jack why he was in Australia, and he said he had come to get his dad. They still weren't speaking to each other, but Jack's mom asked him to go to bring his father back. By the time Jack got to Australia and found his father's hotel, he'd been missing for three days or something." She took an unsteady breath. "Jack finally found his father when he went to identify the body at the morgue." She looked down at her feet.

Sawyer was stunned into silence. He glanced awkwardly between the sand and the ocean before whispering a curt "Let's go," and walking in Jack's direction.

Kate caught up to him. "Listen," she said. "No matter what happens let me talk to him. You stay out of sight."

Sawyer had a flash of his childhood. His mother was standing there, telling him the same thing. Then his father broke down the door… "I'll jump in when I think it's necessary." He told her.

"Sawyer, Jack is not a violent man." Kate muttered.

"Well, neither was my father." Sawyer glared at her. "People aren't always so nice in the dark of night"

They could see Jack clearly now, he was sitting stone-still and staring at the ocean. Kate led Sawyer to the tree she had hidden behind the night before. "He ain't doing nothing." Sawyer whispered.

"Just wait." Kate answered.

After three or four minutes Jack took a deep breath and reached into his pocket. He pulled out the knife and began to twirl it around like he had the night before. The snap! of the blade locking into place pierced the night air above the gentle rolling of the waves. "That's almost impressive." Sawyer quipped, but Kate heard him draw in a breath as Jack stopped and concentrated on his arm. After a few seconds the scraping reached their ears and Sawyer's jaw dropped. "I'll be damned." He whispered. "Dr. Jekyll's been spending way too much time with Muhammad."

(Earlier that night)

Jack did go to sleep that night, but he woke up after only a couple hours of tossing on the dirt floor. He looked around the cave and saw that he hadn't woken anyone up. For a couple minutes he tried to go back to sleep, but he couldn't shut his mind off. He silently dressed and put his shoes on, then grabbed his pack and headed for the beach.

He cut through the brush on the edge of the trail just in case people were still up. He didn't want to answer any questions about late night activities. He reached the edge of the jungle and looked at the camp. The fires were low and the shelters were quiet. After a minute he stepped out cautiously and then made his way along the tree line to his spot. He sat down and pulled the knife out. This really isn't healthy. He mused silently. If I walked in on someone doing what I'm doing, I'd have the guy committed. He laughed quietly as the thought occurred to him. The knife he was using was nowhere near as sharp as the precision ground scalpel that he had appropriated from the hospital, but it did the trick. It's even a little better. He thought to himself. It hurts more because of the bigger blade. He was concentrating on his left arm, making short, quick slashes like he'd been taught in med school. A satisfying sting followed each slice. After he had cut both arms, he put the knife away and sat staring at the ocean while he waited for the blood to clot. The night was clear and a small breeze kept him cool. Thank God this place isn't mosquito-infested. It would be an absolute hell. After about an hour, he pulled the blade and began to cut again.

Kate couldn't stand it anymore. He had started for the second time that night. She motioned to Sawyer and they quietly backtracked far enough to whisper clearly. "Go back to camp." She told him. "I can handle this."

"What are you going to do?" Sawyer looked her in the eyes.

"I'm going to ask him to stop."

Sawyer laughed grimly. "Babe, I think you'll have to do a little more than that."

"Then I'll tell him to stop." Kate replied, exasperated.

"What happens if he doesn't listen?"

"He'll listen." Kate said, but Sawyer was unconvinced.

"Why would he?"

"Because he cares about me!" she snapped. "And I care about him. And he knows that. He's had a lot of reasons to push me away or hurt me but he didn't."

Sawyer ground his foot into the sand. "I'll wait right here for two minutes and if nothing happens then I'll leave you two alone for the night. But if—" He noticed she wasn't paying attention anymore. "Look at me! But if I see anything I don't like, I'm jumping in. I've met people who do these types of things, so be careful." He sighed loudly, as if he couldn't believe he was telling her these things. "Be…gentle, Okay? He needs someone to understand why he's doing this, not jump on his case."

"I got it," Kate looked irritated. She looked at him. "Sawyer, this cannot get out."

"I know." He sounded annoyed.

"No, I mean it. If there is one secret you need to keep, this is it. People are having a bad enough time already."

He rolled his eyes. "I got it." Seeing she was still skeptical, he repeated himself. "I won't tell. This is between you and me and Jack-o. Cross my heart." He moved his hand across his chest.

"Thank you." She turned to walk towards Jack.

Sawyer watched her leave, tense about the confrontation. Do you really think Jack would actually do anything? He debated with himself. Deep down, his mind answered. He might. If he can torture himself then what would stop him from doing that to others? Kate was almost there, and Jack hadn't noticed yet. He was sitting with the knife in his right hand, staring into the darkness. He watched as Kate stole the knife from his hand in a flash. "What the hell's wrong with you?" she demanded, her voice full of hurt. "Stop killing yourself!" She was nearly hysterical now, pleading for answers. Well, Sawyer thought sarcastically. That was tactful. Jack jumped up, but his voice was low and Sawyer couldn't hear what he was saying. But he could hear Kate's crying as she lashed out at him, and when Jack stepped towards her Sawyer tensed. I didn't think he would actually do it. He took a step towards them. Or at least I thought it would take longer than this. But Sawyer stopped when Jack took her hand in his. She pulled away as if he were a stranger. He heard Jack say 'complicated' and Kate rolled her eyes in frustration at that, saying 'nothing is that complicated.' Jack was trying to calm her down but she was still crying. He pointed to the ground and she shook her head. He said something else and she stepped back. He motioned to the sand one more time and Sawyer heard her cry a little louder before asking, "I want to know why Jack! Why would you do this?" Sawyer saw Jack take a deep breath. "Sit down then, we'll be here a while." When Kate didn't move he spoke again. "I promise, I'll tell you the truth." I didn't see that one coming. Sawyer watched them talk quietly for a few more minutes before returning to his shelter.

After he finally got her to sit and calm down enough to talk, Jack looked into her eyes. "How did you find out?" He asked.

"Look at your arms!" Kate pointed.

"How did you find out I was here." He rephrased his question. When she didn't answer he tried again. "Kate, I would like to know."

"I followed you." She looked down at the sand. "I've followed you for the last three nights."

Jack shook his head as if he should have known this. "Why?"

"The first night I found you by accident. I couldn't sleep…and I saw you sitting there alone. So I thought—you know—misery loves company, but you wanted to be alone." Jack could hear the pain in her voice.

"I…wasn't in a very good mood that night." He said.

"I know. The second night I saw you walking down the beach. I thought you were trying to clear your head or just couldn't sleep." She took a breath. "I was going to catch up to you, but by the time I did, you already had your knife out, and then I saw you start…to do that." She couldn't say those words out loud.

"I'm sorry." He took her hand. Then he realized. "So that's why you wouldn't talk to me."

"I didn't know what to say! That, it…I was really upset." Kate struggled for words. "Nobody else had seen you doing this. No one else would've believed it if I'd told them." She was quiet a moment.

Jack spoke up. "Sawyer knows, doesn't he?" He sounded like he was trying to fit the pieces of a puzzle together.

"He saw me when I was walking back to my tent. How did you know?"

"Just the way he talked to me." Jack said. "He and I had a little conversation right before dinner when you were still asleep."

Kate was silent for a moment before she spoke. "I, uh, actually overheard that conversation. I couldn't sleep, and you two were right outside." He should know I heard that. She thought. Especially if I want him to be honest with me.

"Ah…" Jack responded.

"I told Sawyer to keep this a secret. He promised he wouldn't say a word, and I think he was serious about it."

"Well, I hope so; it would get pretty messy if this got out." He chuckled to himself. "Locke would have a field day trying to get me in touch with why I was doing this."

That comment brought Kate back to reality and she tried to focus again. "I want to know why you did this, Jack. I thought we talked this afternoon. I thought you were over it."

"Well you can't expect everything to get better in one session." Jack replied wryly.

"This isn't funny!" She was angry again, and Jack knew he went a little too far with the joke. "I'm really scared by this. When did you start…torturing yourself?"

"The night after Boone died, after everyone was asleep." He answered.

"No, when did you first start doing this?" She looked him in the eye. "Was it when you were having trouble in residency?"

He gave a short laugh, she'd figured him out. "Yeah," he said, remembering the first time it had happened.

"Jack," She took his right hand and looked into his eyes. "Please talk with me about it. I want to be here for you…I care about you." She'd never told him that, not directly anyways. But he has to have known that. She thought. After trying to get the transceiver, and the cave-in, and everything else we've been through, He must have known. But I want him to be sure.

She saw his face light up a moment in the moonlight before he sighed. "I was just about to finish my internship. I was working the three a.m. shift in the ER that night with Dr. Scott, and we got a patient who was in really bad shape. We worked for three hours before the guy finally died." Jack's eyes fluttered at the memory before he focused on her again. "I didn't even know his name. Believe it or not, this was the first time anyone had died on me during my internship." He waved his left arm but held on tight to her fingers in his other hand, as if he were trying to clear up some technicality in his mind. "Of course, other patients I'd known had died; even other patients that I had helped to treat. But this was the first time a patient had died on the operating table, while I was still trying to save his life." He breathed slowly to calm down.

"'We did what we could, Shepard.'" Jack scoffed when he said the words. "That's what Dr. Scott told me. 'I know it's tough. Take some time alone.'" He rolled his eyes in contempt.

She nodded in agreement. "That's awful."

"I hate how he said it." Jack told her. "It was so dismissive. At the end of the shift,I walked back to the small living area that the med students used and was looking through my locker when I found a scalpel on the shelf."

She thought he was about to lead into the gory details and tried to ready herself. But he surprised her with a genuine smile. "It was from the time my friend and I had broken into the instrument room late one night to celebrate passing our final exams." He laughed to himself as he remembered. "I've never told anyone about this, So you gotta understand this is in the strictest confidence. You can't tell a soul. Promise?"

She couldn't believe he was saying this to her. He knew more than a few of her darker secrets, but was he really going to tell her about something he did that was so illegal. It doesn't even sound like a real crime, she thought. It was just a room. But she saw he was waiting for her answer, so she played along. "I promise." She said seriously.

"Good." He kept smiling. "If the Chief of Medicine had caught us, we woulda been skinned alive. I know it doesn't sound serious." He said, as if reading her thoughts. "But we were in an 'unauthorized area'" He made air quotes with his left hand and wiggled his fingers while she held onto the other. "And we weren't licensed yet. We'd passed all the tests, but we wouldn't be card carrying members until we graduated in a couple of weeks. Because of that, we could have been charged with a felony, even though we would be physicians pretty soon. Combine that with all the stuff hospitals keep in their instrument rooms and we never would've seen the light of day."

Kate couldn't help but laugh at this. She saw Jack look at her in confusion. "I'm sorry; I just have a hard time putting the word 'felon' in the same sentence as 'Jack Shepard.' I never would've thought you were a bad boy."

"Hey, you've seen the tattoos." Jack quipped, and Kate laughed again as she remembered teasing him about being 'one of those hard-core spinal surgeons.'

"Anyways…" he began again, drawing out the word. "We played that stupid kid's game Operation with real instruments, and we were so absolutely serious about it; totally concentrating as if it were an actual life and death moment. When we finished, I was about to walk out when my friend stopped me. 'Jack!' He said. 'Take this.' He handed me a scalpel, still in the plastic wrap. Then he grabbed another for himself. 'Think of it as a badge. We're qualified to use 'em.' He flashed a smile and then we checked the halls and got out of there." He stopped talking and she realized the lightest part of the story was over.

"Well, that's where I got the scalpel from." He said, trying to remember why he was telling that story.

Kate helped him along. "Why was it in your locker?"

Jack sighed. "I had left it in there for luck. Ironic, isn't it?" Remembering where he had left off, he picked up the original storyline again. "So I was sitting there, alone in the room and I opened the plastic wrapping the scalpel. I was doing this little trick I had learned where I twirl it in my fingers"

"I saw you do that earlier tonight." Kate said.

Jack smiled quickly. "Impressive, isn't it." She didn't answer but smiled a little and leaned her head on his shoulder a moment. "Admit it." He teased as he circled Kate with his right arm before taking her hand again. He was smiling, but as Kate leaned into him she realized his body was cold.

"It is kind of cool." She said. Why is he so cold?

"I know. We learned how to do it with ball-point pens after watching that scene in Top Gun where everyone is in the briefing room and Maverick sees Iceman doing that with his pen. You ever see that movie?"

"Yeah." She laughed. "You're such a dork." She joked.

"You're the one impressed with it." He shot back with a smile. "Of course, we learned early on that the girls were much more impressed when we did it with scalpels instead of pens, so that's why we learned to use the scalpels. I still can't believe no one ever lost any fingers."

He breathed in again and became solemn. "So here I was, spinning this blade and thinking of how that boy had died while I was watching. I couldn't get the thought of his parents out of my head. I had been the one that told them that their kid was dead. I'd never seen a look like that before." It was quiet for a moment and Kate could hear the waves washing softly onto the sand. "It felt like I had destroyed that family… I was so caught up in feeling sorry for them and being…upset at myself that when my left arm itched I reached over and scratched without thinking. After a few seconds I felt a sting and something wet on my arm, and was…surprised, I guess, to find I had cut myself. But it didn't even hurt, not that much anyway. I looked closely at the cut and then…placed the scalpel blade on my skin again. It cut effortlessly, and I was absolutely mesmerized…I pretended I was just drawing on my arm with a pen or something. I never cut very deep…just enough to draw a little blood." He paused and she felt his hand tense up as he remembered. "Time flew by, and I realized I should have left for my apartment hours ago. So I quickly packed and put the scalpel in my bag and I left before anyone caught me."

"When I got home I was appalled. 'What did I do to myself?' I kept thinking. Then I heard myself answer. 'I cut myself up like a crazy person, and it didn't even hurt.' I left the scalpel in my bathroom and washed my cuts. I went to bed but couldn't sleep because I was sure that everyone would see what I had…done to myself when I got to work again. But when I was getting dressed the next day, I realized the lab coats are long sleeved. 'No one will notice.' I thought, relieved. And I went about my business. I pushed it all out of my head until residency." He looked sad.

"The next patient that died while I was working was a mother of two." He rested his head against Kate's shoulder and was quiet so long she thought he had fallen asleep. When she was about to shake him awake he spoke again. "That was a really bad night. I told the husband what happened and he was absolutely quiet. I was thinking 'Thank God he didn't break down and cry in front of me.' Then I watched through the window as he sat his kids down and told them their mother had died. I could read the lips of him and his kids. The older one looked like he was eleven and the little girl was maybe nine." He stopped again and took several breaths, but still wouldn't cry. "I felt so selfish. That I had to nerve to think this guy shouldn't cry in front of me. He was holding his kids to try and comfort them, and the boy, he just hugged his little sister while she cried. I'll never get that picture out of my head." He raised his head a moment and she could see a tear trickle down his cheek. "I went home and was staring at myself in the mirror when the scalpel caught my eye. So…slowly…I picked it up and began to cut my arm with it; I couldn't stop thinking about the little kids that mother had left behind. And how the husband had to try and put that mess together, and how he handled everything with so much grace. And I was just glad that I didn't have to deal with anyone crying in front of me." He spit this last sentence out in anger, and smiled a deathly smile through his own tears as Kate cried silently with him. "Well, no one cried in front of me. But I see what was left of that family crying all the time. I didn't sleep for the first month after that. And every time I couldn't sleep, I found that scalpel and started to cut on myself." He was quiet again for several seconds, but Kate could see his tears falling. "So that was how it started, and it grew from there. It wasn't just if someone I worked on died, but when I made a mistake, or was just frustrated with myself. I'd do this for anywhere from a few hours to a month or more. It just…it helps with the guilt." He looked at her again. "When I told Shannon that Boone had died, she looked at me like I had failed her." Kate shook her head to protest but Jack squeezed her shoulder. "It wasn't her fault. I know she doesn't really think I failed her. But she has such a blind hope in technology that to her it's inconceivable that something should happen that can't be fixed. I've seen that look before in people when I tell them someone they love has died. They're thinking, 'My God, all the most advanced technology, all the schooling, all the expertise that you have and you still couldn't stop this from happening?'" He turned his head until he was looking into her eyes. "I just lost it after that. I was tired and miserable and didn't want anyone to know. I know that sounds like a cop-out but it's the truth. I was always told to be calm; that since I'm in charge in the hospital if people see me get nervous then they panic and everything goes to hell after that." He blinks and she watches two more tears fall. "So when a situation got out of control I'd count to five, find a way to make everything right, and then go home at night and…deal with everything else."

Kate was desperate for something, anything, to say. "I wish…I wish you wouldn't have suffered so long by yourself."

"Thank you for being here." Jack whispered. He was still holding her tight.

"Your welcome," She answered. They sat in silence for several minutes, until Jack wiped his face with his left hand.

"Oh man." Jack said quietly; as if he just realized all that he had confessed. Then he noticed she was watching him closely. "I'm sorry I dumped all this on you—again. Like I did this morning." He said uncomfortably.

"No, it's exactly what I wanted to hear." She saw his confused look and clarified. "I'm glad you're not keeping this to yourself—that you'll let someone help you."

He sighed and his stare returned to the ocean. "It's really late." He said, loosening his embrace. "Do you want to head back?"

"What about you?" She asked.

Jack thought a moment. "I'll…probably stay here for a while." He told her.

"Then I will too." She decided out loud. His arm was still around her shoulder, and she moved closer to him before she took his right hand again and entwined her fingers with his. "You don't have to go through this alone. Promise me you'll remember that." She whispered.

She felt his shoulders rise and fall before he answered. "I promise."

"Good." She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder.

Jack sat quietly and stared into the night.