Chapter 20
"Jack, we need to talk."
Jack glanced at Kate and Sawyer; they were watching them with interest. "Okay, Sayid, talk."
"I was just at...at the beach. Rousseau came to me and told me that They are coming for Michael." Sawyer paled a little; Kate put her hand on his arm reassuringly. Something flashed in his mind, a memory; a man, he knew him, but he couldn't place him, then he was gone. He closed his eyes, trying to remember. "She asked me about Sawyer," at that his eyes flew open and he looked at Kate, fear clouding his vision. "She said she saw them bringing him through the jungle. She wanted to make sure he was found, so she sent someone to tell Eko." He paused. Kate felt Sawyer relax a little. "She said she sent Alex."
Glancing sharply at Sayid, Kate said, "Isn't that her daughter?" He nodded. "I thought the Others took her."
"They did. She gave them Michael, they gave her access to Alex." He looked at Jack. "Alex met Locke and Eko in the jungle and led them to Michael and Jin."
"Locke knew it was her." Jack shook his head. "Locke knew it and he lied to us."
"Perhaps," Sayid said. Locke had lied, but he didn't want Jack flipping on John right now. There were more important things at hand. "Jack, she said They were coming, not today, but soon. We need to figure out what we're going to do about Michael."
"We're not going to do anything other than what we already are. She's crazy, Sayid, she's unbalanced. We can't go on her word." He paused, looking down. "And anyway, what else can we do?"
"She's not crazy, Jack," he said quietly. "And I don't know what else to do. But perhaps bringing them down on the entire camp is not the best thing. Maybe we can find somewhere to hide him-"
Jack cut him off impatiently. "Hide him? They know this island, Sayid, do you think there is a hiding place they don't know of?" He shook his head angrily. "I say we bring him down here, fortify the hatch, post armed guards."
Kate didn't like that; it had the ring of prison to it. "Is that to keep Them out or keep him in, Jack?."
He spun on her. "Do you have a better idea, Kate? Because if you do I would love to hear it." She didn't answer, looking down at the floor. "Well, then. I guess he comes to the hatch."
Sawyer tensed at Jack's tone; he grew angry at the hurt look on her face. "Lay off, Jack," he growled, "She's just tryin' to help." Kate flicked him a look of gratitude and his heart swelled; Jack threw him a glare and he scowled back.
Sayid shrugged. "Why don't you ask Michael his opinion before you make a decision? Meanwhile I will begin setting some traps and finding people for guard duty. Just in case." He looked questioningly at Jack, who nodded. Sayid turned to Sawyer. "I am glad to see you are doing well, Sawyer," he laid a hand gently on his shoulder and smiled for the first time since Shannon's death. "What you did was a very brave and selfless thing," he said softly, then glanced at Kate, who was watching them with a hint of a smile. "I know she is worth it."
Sawyer looked kind of embarrassed and proud at the same time. He gave Sayid another one of those uncertain smiles. "Yeah, she is." Sayid smiled at him once more, then nodded and left.
Jack was feeling a little abashed. He hadn't meant to snap at Kate like that. He sighed and looked at her apologetically. "Never a dull moment, huh?"
She didn't smile right away. She looked at Sawyer, who decided to take the situation in hand. He hadn't missed how much she had enjoyed him and Jack getting along; and to be honest, he didn't really feel like holding a grudge right now. So, he'd let this one go. "What fun would that be, Doc?" he said, smirking lightly.
Jack was relieved to see Kate smile. "Maybe not fun, Sawyer, but it would be a hell of a lot easier." He grinned. "Dullness has its perks." He gave them one last smile and left.
Sawyer watched him leave, then he turned to Kate. "I guess he'd know," he drawled lazily, making Kate giggle. He took her hand and began rubbing the inside of her wrist gently. "Alone at last, sweetheart." He increased the pressure, rubbing lazy circles with his thumb. She couldn't wait any longer, she was hungry for his mouth on hers; he teased her lips open with his tongue and she met it with hers. He put his hands up to her face, pulling her closer. She was afraid to touch him; he was so bruised and battered she was afriad she would hurt him. He noticed her hands staying at her sides and he whispered against her mouth. "Whassamatter, Frankenstein ain't your type?"
"I'm afraid I'll hurt you if I touch you," she whispered back. One of his hands slipped down to her back, sliding under her shirt, pulling her to him. He groaned softly against her lips, "Freckles, it'll hurt me more if you don't."
She pulled back, and hesitatingly touched one of the stitched-up gashes across his chest. He watched her, the look of sorrow on her face, and his control wavered; he reached up and pulled her mouth to his hungrily. Her fingers traveled slowly down his battered body, tracing the criss-crossing scars; every stitch, every bruise was for her. She felt each one with anguish and wonder; Sawyer's lips became more insistent and she slipped her fingers lower into the waistband of his boxers. He groaned and she slid them lower.
"Don't, Kate." His hand caught hers, withdrawing it. She looked at him questioning. "Not here, not like this. We can wait." She wasn't so sure, but she dropped her hands, smiling. "Your loss, Frankenstein."
He frowned. "Don't rub it in." He sighed shakily. "Well, you heard the doc's orders, nurse. Let's walk." He didn't want to stop, and as much as he hated to admit Jack was right about something, in this case he was. He was entirely too sore for that kind of action, though looking at Kate beaming at him he was tempted to do it anyway. Kate helped him up, slowly and hesitantly; he wobbled and leaned on her heavily. She relished the weight on her shoulders; she wanted to carry him, support him. She had loved him before he gave himself up, but since then the feeling had gone so much deeper and she wanted to do whatever she could to show him how she felt. She looked up at him and he gazed down at her. "Okay, Frank, let's walk."
He froze. "Don't call me that." His voice was chilly and she felt him stiffen.
"Okay, sorry." He relaxed a little, but she sensed the change; he was still bothered. She shrugged it off; if he wanted to tell her he would. They walked slowly through the hatch; Sawyer hissed and grunted with every step. Kate wasn't entirely sure it was all from pain.
-----
Ana sat by herself on the beach, whittling a piece of bamboo slowly into splinters. She had screwed up again; just when she had been starting to feel like she maybe could belong here, she had to go and lose her temper and fuck it all up. She knew that it wasn't all her fault, but it made hating herself easier.
She wondered briefly about Sawyer; she heard he had been found. She kind of wanted to go see him because since he had given himself up for Kate she had formed a new opinion of him- maybe there was someone under the asshle. Somehow she didn't think a visit from her would be appreciated though, especially since Kate was most likely there. She licked her lip where Kate's fist split it, and grimaced; she still hadn't quite forgiven Kate for pulling a gun on her, even if she did deserve it. A little.
Something wet dripped down the back of her neck and she slapped her hand over it, drawing back a long string of slobber. Vincent woofed at her, and happily licked her again, bounding around her in joyful circles. He pushed his doggy nose up under her hand demanding attention. "Hey, pup," she said, laughing in spite of herself; she scratched his ears and neck as he drooled happily in her lap. "At least someone here still likes me."
"He's easy to please." Michael was walking up the beach towards her. "How you doin', Ana?" He sat next to her in the sand.
She eyed him warily. Why was he being friendly? They didn't have the most amiable history. "I'm okay. You?"
He shrugged, staring out at the water. "I miss him."
They sat quietly for a minute. Ana finally spoke. "I'm sorry, Michael, about everything. Especially about Walt." He didn't speak, and suddenly she wanted to unburden her heart to someone. "I lost my kid too."
Michael turned to her. "I'm sorry. What happened?"
Ana hesitated and looked away. "Someone took him from me."
Michael was quiet for a long time. He finally looked at her, feeling a strange kind of kinship. "What did you do?"
Ana turned and looked him in the eyes. Suddenly Michael didn't want to hear, but he was glued to the spot by the force behind her expression. Her voice was toneless; she sounded like she was talking about someone else. "I killed him." She turned back to the ocean. Michael stared at her for a long moment, then he too turned his gaze back to the constant sea.
-----
Locke was at the beach visiting Claire and Aaron. He really did love that little boy; he had never had a real family and he was almost beginning to feel like an Uncle John. It was a novel sensation. He couldn't say he regretted not having a family of his own, it wasn't his destiny. But he could appreciate was he was missing and as he let himself get closer to Aaron and his mother he appreciated it more and more.
The island was quiet today; it wasn't whispering to him like usual. He was a little alarmed, afraid it might be a bad sign; something was coming. His unease grew when Jack came storming up to him looking agitated and angry. "Locke," he barked, "We need to talk."
Great, thought Locke. He handed Aaron to Claire, kissing him on the forehead, then turned to Jack. "What's up, Jack?"
Jack walked away from Claire's tent; he didn't want the whole beach overhearing. "Sayid just had a visit from Rousseau. Did you know it was her daughter who led you to Michael?" He had turned it over and over in his mind. Why would Locke lie about it? He couldn't figure it out.
Locke hesitated. "Yes, I knew."
"Why did you lie, Locke?" Jack was fuming.
"Discretion, Jack." Locke paused, then leaned in, his voice low. "If I had told you, when we came back, that I knew the girl was Alex, you would have dragged us all off through the jungle looking for Rousseau. I understand that you have so many questions, Jack, that you desperately want answered, because you have taken on the role of leader and to be a good leader you have to know where you're going, know what's going on. That responsibility drives you; you're just made that way." Jack flinched and glanced suspiciously at Locke. "But you would have hounded her to get answers that she may or may not have; and what right do you have to do that?" He shifted closer, "If you are meant to know the answers, Jack- if it is your destiny, then you'll get them."
Jack was tense with fury. John's choice of words had struck a nerve. "Destiny, John?" He sneered at Locke, looking a little crazy. "I make my own destiny. I get my own answers." He paused and looked away angrily, then he turned back to Locke. "They are coming for Michael, Locke. Don't you think he is worth trying to get a few answers? Or is that not part of his destiny either?"
Locke smiled, rubbing his palm flat along the back of his head. "Michael's fate is for Michael to find, just as you have to find yours, Jack." He looked Jack in the eye. "Take some of that energy, Jack, that magic drive that you have, and use it to find your way instead of everyone else's." He paused, smiling at Jack. "You can't save everyone."
Jack glowered at Locke. "I can try. I'm just made that way." He spit the words back at him. "That's my destiny."
Locke's eyes crinkled up as he smiled at Jack. "And when you can't, Jack? You just make yourself miserable. You just make yourself suffer." He looked up at the sky, blazing bright blue. "It's got to be almost the end of October, right?" He looked to Jack for confirmation but Jack just stared at him, his jaw working in fury. "I wonder how the Red Sox did this year?"
Jack's heart froze. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Locke smiled triumphantly to himself. "Some people are just supposed to suffer, Jack. You're just made that way. But it could be different. Who knows, maybe this year they won- and then where would all of those suffering people be?" He leaned in close to Jack and spoke in a low voice. "You can fix yourself, Jack, you don't have to be like him. All you have to do is ask." He spread his arms wide, encompassing the island. Jack was staring at him, stunned and shocked. He looked close to tears. "All you have to do is have a little faith...and ask."
Locke flashed one more smile at Jack, then turned and walked down the beach leaving him standing alone.
