Chapter 11
The rain had been the answer to his prayer.

Michael and Jin had been in the pen all day, the sun blazing hot on them. They hadn't heard anyone, or seen anyone; it had just been them, the sun, the wind, and thankfully for their parched lips and tongues, the rain. The sun had finally set, and Michael could see the stars glimmering through the trees above him. He wondered if Walt was somewhere, looking at those same stars, thinking about him. It comforted him to think that he was.

Jin was staring at the stars, too, his thoughts on Sun. He missed her, and he was sorry that he had left without saying goodbye, but he couldn't bear another parting from her. She must be frantic, he thought. Again I am causing her pain. It made him miserable.

A blanket fell over the world. The stars went out like candles in a stiff wind, and the air was suddenly stifling; the blackness was suffocating and crushing. Michael and Jin leapt to their feet, trying to see, but it was total blackness; Michael couldn't see his hand in front of his face. He could hear Jin's ragged, frightened breathing next to him, and he reached out his hand and touched his arm reassuringly.

Come with me now. A voice whispered in his ear. Michael spun his head, trying to see who had spoken. There was nothing but darkness.

Come with me now. It was in the other ear now. Terror gripped Michael in its icy claws, and he stammered, "Wh-h-o is that?"

Nothing answered. Michael gazed around wildly, seeing nothing, nothing everywhere he turned. It was disorienting; he suddenly didn't know where he was, if he was standing or sitting; up or down. He was falling through a void, and his arms struck sand as he lost his equilibrium and fell into a heap.

A thin sliver of light snaked across the pen, illuminating Micahel's face, inches from the sand. He looked up at it, the light hurting his eyes, and he squinted. There was someone there, silhouetted in a doorway that had opened in the wall of the pen- it looked like the wall had vanished. They were hazy and their edges were blurry, like they were covered in a cloud of smoke.

Come now. The shadow-person beckoned to them. Michael looked at Jin, who looked back and shrugged. "Okay then." he said, standing slowly, and walking up to the light, disappeared into it.

---------

The sun was nearly down, and Jack had barely spoken all day. It was kind of a relief, thought Locke, as he followed the trail that was revealed to him. He rather preferred quiet Jack. He glanced up at Ana, who was walking next to him, watching. He slowed his pace incrementally; it wouldn't do for her to get suspicious now that the light was waning.

She was about to say something; he could feel it. He could sense her tensing up, steeling herself to say something difficult...she looked back to Jack, who was a few yards behind, avoiding contact with either of them...John smiled. Here it came.

Her question wiped the smile from his face. "What happened to your wheelchair, John?"

He froze, shock and fear plain on his face. He glanced back at Jack, apprehensively; he didn't want anyone to know about that, especially not Jack. None of them were ready for it; the Island had to show itself to them in its own way. Boone had been different, he'd been a sacrifice all along, and anyway, the secret had died with him. "How did you know that?"

She glanced back at Jack, too, and Locke sighed inwardly with relief; she didn't want Jack to know either. Knowledge is power, thought John, even on a deserted island. Well, not really deserted. "I saw you at the terminal. You were being carried on board by the flight attendents. I figure, the only reason they carry someone on board is because they can't walk. Someone who can't walk has to use a wheelchair. So, where is the wheelchair, John?"

He had to smile, even through his fear. "You're very observant," he noted, scratching his head. He started walking again, stepping carefully over a deadfall of twisted branches and vines.

"Occupational hazard," Ana said, shooting Locke a grin. "Now, quit stalling and answer my question." She paused, seeing Locke's face harden. "Please." She added.

He waited a few moments before answering. "I told you before, Ana, that this place returned something I lost to me." He looked aside at her. "You know. But let me explain that in order for the Island to give you what you want, you have to give it something in return. What that something is, is up to each man, woman, and child to find out for themselves. I hope you understand what I am asking of you." He looked at her steadily, and she nodded. His secret was safe. "Good. In that case, the chair is at the beach, being used for wood transport." He patted his legs, smiling. "A far better use for it, I might add." Ana grinned at him quickly. She certainly would think so. "But in my reality, the chair doesn't exist at all."

Ana frowned. What did that mean?

Locke was already way ahead of her. She watched after him, pondering his last words. Jack nearly bowled her over.

He wasn't paying attention to anything in particular, just keeping track of the two of them enough to keep up. His mind was busy, worrying; How was Aaron? Was everyone eating and drinking enough? How was Sayid dealing with his grief? Was Scott (or was it Steve? He could never remember) over the poison ivy? Did anyone have food poisoning? How was Hurley's digestive problem (and that's a desperate thought)? He thought of anything and everything he could to keep his mind off of her. And him.

She was a magnetic force, as powerful as the island; she drew him to her, just like she drew Sawyer; the two polar opposites- and they repelled each other violently. They were locked in stasis, the three of them, pulling on Kate and pushing on each other, getting locked into a crazy triangle that none of them knew how to break. The triangle wasn't all about love; Jack was connected to Kate and Sawyer in a way that would never change, no matter how their relationships did. All of the things he had done for Sawyer, the times he had saved him, the times he had helped him, the times he had talked to him when no one else would, even the times he had tortured and embarrassed him- all of those moments were bricks in the road that led him to his father again; but without Kate, prodding him, pulling him to Sawyer no matter how hard he fought it, it wouldn't have happened. She and Sawyer were forever a part of him, of who he was, no matter how much he hated it.

All roads lead here, Jack. Locke's words echoed in his head. He cast an irritated glance at Locke's back. "You see anything up there, Locke?"

Locke and Ana both turned at the same time, and a wave of betrayal washed over him again. Ana certainly was getting buddy-buddy with Locke, he thought viciously. "There's a beach up ahead, through these trees. It's getting dark, maybe we can make camp there." He waited for Jack to argue, but he didn't. He and Ana glanced at each other; obviously she'd expected him to disagree as well. "Okay then."

They all walked carefully out onto the beach. Jack and Ana stared up at the bamboo teepee, curiously. "What do you think it is?" she asked Jack. He didn't answer immediately. "I don't know," he said coldly. "Why don't you ask him?" He nodded towards Locke. "He seems to have all the answers."

"Not all of them, Jack. But he does have some interesting ones. Maybe someday he'll tell them to you." She really didn't understand Jack's hostile attitude towards her; he disliked John, but was she supposed to just ignore him? "You know, you need to lighten up. You're boring the hell out of me with this wounded soul bullshit game you're playing." He was looking at her incredulously. "I know what your problem is, Jack, and let me lay it out for you plain because you're a tough guy and I think you can take it. She chose him. There, it's out. Deal with it." She turned on her heel and stalked off down the beach.

The words spoken by someone else were like a physical blow. It made it real; there was no pretending anymore. He crumpled inside.

"Jack!" Locke came up to him, a worried look on his face. "The trail ends here. There are prints going to that tree, and it looks like they may have been tied there for awhile, but there are no tracks leaving."

His anger and irritaion fled in the face of crisis. "What about the water? Are there any tracks from there? Remember Ethan came in from-"

"I checked that too, nothing, no sign."

"You're sure," Jack pressed. "There is nothing?"

Locke stared at him. "Jack, if there was a trail I would find it. Believe me. They just...vanished."

Jack shook his head, feeling the anger building again. "That's not possible, John." He could feel Locke's steady gaze, so he looked up and met his waiting eyes. They crinkled up as Locke smiled at Jack. "Anything is possible, Jack."

They stared each other down, Jack glaring, Locke smiling. Jack looked away first. "Make camp if you're going to, Locke."

A triumphant grin spread to Locke's eyes. "Yes, boss." he said. "But not here. There's a stream about a half-mile back, some fruit trees. We should go there."

"Whatever, Locke. I don't see why the beach isn't good enough." He cringed at the whiny sound of his words.

Locke gazed at him, almost pityingly. "The beach is Theirs, Jack. We can't stay here."

--------

"Jesus, Freckles, where'd you learn to fight like that?" Sawyer was sitting against a fallen tree trunk, eyeing a sharp black bruise right above his belly button. Kate had his shirt open and pulled back, checking on his shoulder by the firelight. It was looking better, not so angry and inflamed; a nice thick scab had formed over it, puckering the edges of the wound.

Kate ignored the question and the bruise. "How's it feeling?" She touched the area around the scab, gently. He hissed through clenched teeth, and she stopped, drawing her hands back apologetically. "Sorry."

He jerked his shirt closed and started buttoning it. "It was alright 'til you started poking it. I ain't a damn pincushion."

She laughed at him and stood up, brushing off the knees of her jeans. "Don't be such a sore loser, Sawyer." She went to her pack lying a few feet away and opened a zipper.

"Excuse me?" He asked, staring up at her. Her heart lurched; his hair was hanging shaggily in his eyes, and he was lounging against the trunk with an easy confidence, his shirt only half-buttoned, a comically insulted look on his face. "How am I a sore loser?"

"All this whining about your bruise and your shoulder, you're just trying to hide the fact that you got beaten by a girl." She smiled to herself, pulling his pill bottle out of her pack.

He rolled his eyes. "You didn't beat me, Freckles. I let you go. You were obviously scared, I didn't want you to hurt yourself." He pasted on an expression of mock concern.

Kate laughed, handing him his antibiotics. "You're full of it, Sawyer," she said, handing him a bottle of water. He eyed it suspiciously, and glanced up at her. "No more sleeping pills, I promise." He drank, swallowing the pill with it. "You didn't want me to hurt you, that's why you let go. Face it," she whispered, bending to his ear, " I kicked your ass."

He looked disgusted. "You didn't kick my ass," he snorted, and wrapping his arm around her he pulled her into his lap. Her arms went around his neck and her mouth sought his; he put his hand on the back of her neck, pressing her gently closer. The kiss deepened. She was twisted uncomfortably, so she turned to face him, straddling his legs. He sat up, pulling her to him until her legs wrapped around his midsection, and their bodies were pressed together. His mouth left hers and traveled down her throat, pausing at the soft skin in the hollow where he could feel her pulse beating against his lips. He flicked his tongue against it, wanting to feel the life in her, drink her in. She moaned softly, and he slid his lips lower. Kate reached for the buttons on his shirt. "Why the hell did you button it?" she whispered raggedly, her fingers working feverishly. He didn't answer, intent on tasting every inch of her.
She finally got the last one undone, and she pushed the shirt aside, running her hands over his chest. She pulled his mouth back to hers, wanting to feel his tongue against hers. He slid his hand under her shirt, teasing it up. She pushed it back down. "No." she mumbled against him.

He looked up at her. "No? Why not?" he looked utterly perplexed. His hand remained under her shirt.

She hung her head. "Well, we're outside, Sawyer. I mean, it's so...open."

"Freckles, there ain't anyone within a mile of us. Who's gonna see you?" He kissed her softly. "You didn't seem to mind in the hatch, and anyone could have walked in there." He moved his lips back to her neck, kissing and nibbling behind her ear. His hand tried to move the shirt up again. She held it down. He sighed in annoyance, giving up on the shirt. For now.

"I know it's silly, it's just a...phobia." She was apologetic, and that irked her.

"Fine by me, Freckles, you're the one missing out." He grinned at her wickedly. "Last chance." He slid the shirt up one more time. She didn't stop him.

The bushes behind them rustled. In a flash Kate was on her feet, gun drawn from her pack; Sawyer moved a little slower, but he was up a second after her, pushing her behind him. They both held their guns trained on the bush; it rattled again and Sawyer cocked his. Eko stepped out slowly, his hands up. They both sighed simultaneously, lowering their guns. Sawyer uncocked his and stuck it in his jeans, rebuttoning his shirt over it. Damn.

"Hello," said Eko, lowering his hands. "I am sorry if I startled you."

Kate glanced at Sawyer, who was looking sullen, like a kid who had his candy taken away. She smiled to herself, then nodded to Eko. "What brings you out here?" She asked. "How did you find us?"

"I came across your trail earlier. I was curious as to why you are back out here in the jungle, with your shoulder in such bad condition." He directed that at Sawyer, who shrugged, still ruffled at the interruption. "And I see my curiosity will not be satisfied tonight." He smiled at Kate, who grinned back. "No matter. I am used to disappointment." He pointed to the fire. "May I sit?"

Kate jumped. "Sorry, of course." Sawyer glared at her and she shrugged a sorry at him. Eko settled down, cross-legged, by the fire, opposite Sawyer, who had resumed his position against the tree trunk. "I didn't know you could track."

"Just one of many recently acquired skills," he said. Kate looked perplexed, but he didn't elaborate. "I have come here to help you."

"Help us what?" Sawyer snapped.

Eko smiled at him. He had seen them before he rustled the bushes, so he would forgive Sawyer the hostility. "I have come to help you find what you seek, James."

Sawyer froze, his eyes flicking instantly to Kate. She was staring at him, almost smiling. "How did you know my name?" Sawyer asked, his voice low.

Eko smiled even wider. "I know many things. And tomorrow, I will share some of them with you." His smile included Kate. "Both of you." He stood. "I don't want to be rude, so I will sleep out there." He motioned towards the jungle, and Kate started to protest. "I will be fine, Katherine," he said gently. "There is nothing out there to fear." With another nod to a still-stunned Sawyer, he melted into the trees.

Kate turned to Sawyer, who was staring after Eko with shock. "Just when I think things can't possibly get weirder..." she said. She sighed and lowered herself down next to him, leaning against his chest. He put his arm around her shoulder, and kissed her gently on the forehead. "'No, Freckles, there ain't anyone within a mile of here.'' she mocked him, and he finally laughed.

"Okay, you got me there," he said, and he lifted the edge of her shirt up again, pretending to peek under it. "Just a peek for me?" She slapped his hand away playfully.

They sat quietly together, leaning into each other. Kate couldn't keep it in anymore. "James?" she asked. Sawyer nodded. She laughed. "I like it. Maybe I'll call you Jimmy."

"Maybe you won't." He growled, but she heard the smile behind it. "Katherine."

She grimaced. She hated that name. "Okay, you win-this time. Sawyer it is."

They fell asleep together, wrapped up in each other's arms- James and Katherine.