Fortune

Fortune favors the bold.

The mantra echoed inside of his head, it taunted him like a cruel child on the play ground that'd just found out his greatest weakness. Jack wasn't bold, his father liked to remind him of that anytime he got. Taking chances wasn't in his wiring; he liked to pick his battles and rarely played if he couldn't win. At least that was what his father thought of him. Then again it seemed as though his father had a lot of theories about him, none of which Jack even thought to be true. Christian knew all though, so Jack was never in any place to argue with his father. He was just the molded steel; maybe the mold had been wrong after all.

He wondered what his father would think of him now, was taking a gun out into the jungle to work a deal with a psychopath considered brave? Would his father think so? What about his mom? Or Sarah? How about Mark?

Kate thought he was crazy or maybe just desperate but that didn't stop her from coming with him. There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't wonder if he'd really gone crazy over two months ago when he'd followed the white rabbit into the jungle. He wondered if the actions he considered necessary were bold, brave? Or was he just beating a dead horse.

Fortune favors the brave.

Jack never considered himself brave, not when he screamed himself hoarse trying to find 'the others' or any other time on this island when he'd put his life at risk. He was still here, was that his fortune? Was it fortunate?