Title: Tracker
Sawyer/Kate, Jack/Ana

Summary: Some of the castaways trek into the jungle after Michael, learning the Island's secrets along the way.

Status: WIP

Time: Post WKD

Disclaimer: I don't own Lost: I just love it! If you recognize it it ain't mine!

This is my first stab at a fanfic, and I am pretty much a review whore, so please, please review, even if it's just to say I suck!

Also, the first couple of chapters are a little rough, I know, and I am going to come back and rewrite them eventually, but please read past them and I promise you won't be disappointed!

Thanks for reading!

Chapter One
The cowboy boots were silhouetted against the yellow light spilling from the hallway and he shook with the effort to keep his harsh and ragged breathing quiet. The door swung open on squeaky hinges and the boots entered, slowly, steadily towards the bed he huddled under. His breathing ceased altogether when the boots came to the edge of the bed, the toes pointed directly at him; they slowly turned and the bed sagged as a body rested on the edge. He hardly dared to blink, afraid that any sound-

"Sawyer!"

He jerked awake, not really sure where he was; he almost expected to find himself still cowering under that damn bed, blood dripping onto the splayed out boots. After three days of unconciousness he was still easily disoriented; after all, he had collapsed in the middle of the jungle, and how weird was it to wake up in some kind of friggin' bunker, in a bunk bed, no less? Complete with shower and kitchen.

And Kate.

"You alright? Your shoulder is bleeding." Jack was standing over him, looking at his heavily bandaged shoulder with some concern. He bent down to look at the wound more closely. "You were thrashing around," Jack said, in an explanatory way as he removed the bandage gingerly. Sawyer winced and looked down at the bullet hole that had nearly killed him; it was looking a bit better but it was still an angry red and edged with black and purple. He looked away, feeling a little sick. His mouth was cottony-dry.

"How'd I rate the house call, Doc? Ain't the beach a little out of your way?"

Jack just smiled and dabbed some alcohol on Sawyer's open wound. Sawyer grunted and gritted his teeth; Jack was enjoying this, he knew, but he damn sure wasn't gonna give the Doc the satisfaction of knowing it hurt.

Jack replaced the bandages and handed Sawyer a small pill bottle. "Antibiotics. There are enough here for a full course of treatment, take one in the morning, and one at night until they are gone." He smiled and patted Sawyer on his good shoulder. "Should I just add this to my bill?"

"Very funny, Doc. I think that's gonna be one hell of a bill by the time you're done with me." Sawyer started to sit up, but his arm wasn't cooperating. To his chagrin, Jack reached out to help. "I got it," he snapped, and levered himself up to a sitting position. Damn, that was hard. His shoulder was throbbing now from the mixture of exertion and rubbing alcohol, and he thought about asking Jack for a pain pill or two, but immediately vetoed that idea. Instead he asked, "How is Mike?"

Jack looked surprised at the question. He had been expecting Sawyer to ask him about Kate; he was also a little relieved because any conversation about Kate was not going to turn out well for him. He thought about what Sawyer had said to him in his delirium and considered for a moment telling him, but, like Sawyer, he immediately vetoed that idea. He finally answered, "He is okay. He says he got a message from Walt on the computer in the hatch, but John says the computer can only be used to input the numbers. When John went to check, there was only the usual icon."

"No sign of the kid?"

Jack smiled sadly. "No."

Sawyer looked away, feeling guilty about Walt and Michael. It was partly his fault, he had made Mike shoot off the flare. Jack seemed to realize whet he was thinking, and he spoke softly. "It wasn't your fault, Sawyer. Even Michael said so. He said you tried to save him...but it was too late. You took a bullet for Walt, what else could you have done?"

Sawyer didn't answer. Jack patted his good shoulder again and turned to leave.

"Where's Kate?" Sawyer spoke again, and Jack stopped dead in his tracks. This was the question he had hoped to avoid, especially from Sawyer. He turned slowly, then hesitated before he answered. "I don't know." He started walking away again, hoping Sawyer would leave it at that.

Sawyer stared for a moment at the bottle of pills in his hand, then curiously at Jack's retreating back. He had only been gone for a week, but something had shifted between himself and Jack; their relationship had changed over the weeks of interaction on the island, and he suspected that a major part of the difference in Jack's attitude had to do with telling Jack about his father, but there was something else. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. He called after Jack, "Hey Doc!"

Jack stopped and looked back. Sawyer paused, a question on his lips, but instead he waved the bottle of pills in the air and said, "Thanks!"

Jack looked at Sawyer for a minute, then he smiled and said, "You're welcome." He continued up the beach.

Sawyer reached for his water bottle to take a swig. What he wouldn't do for a damn beer right now! Hell, he felt like he had a hangover. He always did after the nightmare.

He closed his eyes against the bright sunlight and took a deep breath. The waves were pounding on the beach, and he just sat for a moment, enjoying the sound. It was funny, he had only been gone for a few days, but he had actually missed the sound of the surf; he didn't really like that hatch, it was so confining and claustrophobic. And creepy. Plus it disconcerted him to wake up in that bunk bed- he felt like he was waking from his nightmare still in it, but instead of blood-spattered boots there was...Kate. She had been by his side almost continually since he regained conciousness, even sleeping in the top bunk while he slept in the bottom. And it had been very difficult to sleep knowing she was right above him. A few times he had lain awake, listening to her breathing, synchronizing his breath to hers until he too drifted off. Actually, if he really thought about it, the only times she hadn't been around were when Jack came by to check on him- he hadn't noticed that before. Did something happen between them while he was gone? He pushed the thought from his mind, hell he'd only been gone a week, what could have happened? He closed his mind against the answers and waited for Kate to come back.

-----

Kate clung to the tree like a second skin, picking fruit from the foliage. It felt too good to be doing something physical again after all of those days cooped up in the hatch. Besides, she loved climbing; it gave her a sense of freedom she could never match with her feet on the ground. She tucked the fruit into the bag she had looped around her shoulders and started to slide down the trunk. The bark beneath her fingers felt rough and smooth at the same time, and she could feel it rasping against her clothes. It felt good- it felt real- and reality was something she had only a passing acquaintance with lately. So much of the past few days seemed like a dream- in fact, she wasn't sure some of it wasn't a dream. If Sawyer hadn't seen the big-ass horse too, she would still be seriously questioning her sanity.

She smiled slightly at that. The horse, or whoever it was, had given her something she had lost for nearly four years- peace. For the first time since killing Wayne, the guilt that had squeezed her heart like a vise had loosened just enough to let her breathe again. But there was hope, wasn't there? That door that had cracked for her could open a little more, and then a little more...it was beginning to seem to her that anything was possible on this island. She wondered if Sawyer's run in with the boar a few weeks ago had given him the same kind of relief; she remembered the look on his face and she thought it must have. Well, now they had something else in common.

Reaching the ground, she stopped to take a drink of water. She looked at the sky and decided to go back to the beach; Jack would surely be done with Sawyer by now, and be gone. She hoped. She had been avoiding him pointedly since the day on the path to the caves, even leaving the hatch when he came to check on Sawyer. Just an hour ago she had been in Sawyer's tent watching him sleep when she spotted Jack coming and made a break for it. She smiled ruefully to herself- she was good at running away, if nothing else. Eventually she was going to have to face him but right now it was too...hard. And anyway, she rationalized to herself, Jack wasn't exactly banging down her tent to see her. Well, she didn't blame him for that. She had seen how shocked and confused he was when she kissed him, and there was nothing she could say to make him feel better about that kiss, because she knew he had felt it too. Nothing. No spark. And then she had run again- back to Sawyer. He was the spark, her flame. Kate was like a moth, drawn to the light no matter how hot it burned. When Sawyer opened his eyes and spoke to her she didn't care if she got burned at all.

She started back to the beach, smiling secretly to herself. After waking, Sawyer had refused to believe that they were still on the island and swore he would only be convinced if they went outside. Kate argued against it, even invoking doctor's orders, but that particular ploy backfired and the mention of Jack made Sawyer even more determined. She had a sneaking suspicion that his disbelief had been partly a plan to get her to dress him, but she gave in anyway. She could feel his smirk on the back of her neck as she knelt before him to help him with his jeans, but she refused to look up, trying not to encourage him. Thank goodness he had kept his moth shut. For a change. He leaned on her and she pulled his arm around her shoulders and they walked through the hatch. Sawyer was still skeptical, so she opened the airlock and took him outside. "Son of a bh," he sighed, and she felt him sag a little against her, so she led him to a log and helped him sit.

Kate was unable to stop smiling. The weight of his arm around her was so comforting she almost hated to break the contact. But to her surprise (and delight, if she admitted it to herself) Sawyer must have had the same thought because instead of releasing her arm when he sat, he slid his hand down to hers and left it there, gently squeezing her fingers and grinning at her. Surprised, she looked down at their hands then grinned back up at Sawyer.

"What?" He asked, looking at her."What are you smilin' at?" She didn't want him to know the hand-holding had surprised her, so she came up with a quick answer that at least had a ring of truth to it. "You need a haircut."

Then there was the horse. For the second time the horse set her free.

And she was right about one thing. He did get a kick out of her feeding him like a baby.

-----

The axe thudded into the wood with a satisfying chunk, splitting the log in half. Jack had taken to chopping wood since the raft had gone and he actually enjoyed it; he could see why Sawyer had chosen this particular task for himself. The rhythmic swing of the axe and the clunking of metal to wood was hypnotic so that Jack hardly remembered where he was or what he was doing sometimes. Unfortunately for him, it wasn't working for him today.

Sawyer loved Kate. Jack swung hard at a log, childishly pretending it was Sawyer's face. Kate obviously felt something for him, too; when she held him in the bunk bed, kissing his forehead, stroking his face, Jack could tell she had forgotten that he was even in the room. The emotion in her eyes had been too much for him. The tender way she held him and whispered in his ear...it was too much for Jack to bear. He looked away, swallowing hard.

What made this situation even worse was Jack was actually starting to like Sawyer. Of course, Sawyer's message from his father had gone a long way towards that, but it was something more. He was beginning to feel almost a grudging respect for Sawyer, especially after Michael told them what went down on the raft. Jack knew the reason for Sawyer's 180 degree turnaround was Kate; even before the raft, he'd noticed that Sawyer was...different around her. Jack felt jealousy bubbling to the surface...but why? He didn't love Kate, at least, not like that, but what he felt was something that could grow into love. But what did he know about her? She was a complete enigma to him, other than she was a murderer. He smiled wryly to himself; that much he knew. And the kiss- he grimaced as he recalled it- he never should have let that happen. She wasn't in her right mind, anyone could have noticed-hell even idiot Charlie noticed she wasn't right. But he was so shocked he hadn't even moved to stop her; now the damage was done and she had been avoiding him like the plague. He'd seen her take off from Sawyer's tent this afternoon when she saw him coming and it hurt him a little, but the truth was staring him in the face. She wanted Sawyer- he'd seen it. Sawyer loved her- he'd heard it. His only choice was to step aside and let her go. She would never be his.

He aimed an especially violent swing at a large stump and the axe stuck fast. Jack pulled and tugged angrily, cursing the axe, the stump, and for good measure, the island.

"Hate to break it to you, but this island is already cursed."

Jack smiled in spite of himself. "Then one more can't hurt, right?" He panted, glancing up from his struggle to release the axe.

Ana-Lucia was watching him, smiling. "Nice swing," she said. "Brutal. What did that stump ever do to you?"

Jack gave up on the axe and left it sticking out of the stump. "Just practicing my surgical skills,', he quipped, picking up some of the already-cut wood to take back to the caves. "Never know when they will come in handy."

Ana-Lucia bent down and started helping pick up firewood. "Not exactly a precision instrument," she laughed, and added, "If those are your surgical skills, I'd hate to see your bedside manner."

Jack laughed. "Well, I have been told that it sucks." He glanced at Ana. Smiling, they walked toward the caves.