In the End

Chapter Thirty-Five

Warning: This chapter has a high PG-13 rating for scary/disturbing images.

Chapter Thirty-Five: Story of A Hero

Sighing, Jack poked the small stick he found into the wet sand beneath him. Every now and then the low mid-afternoon tide would splash his face, but the salty sensation felt relieving against his tired, burning eyes. He wanted to sleep, but everytime he closed his eyes he saw forshadowing of whatever his next dream would be- repetitive memories of Alex's death, the plane. It was like his mind was repeating the past weeks of memories, despite the fact that he seemed to be recovering slowly, but steadily. Now it was all happening again. And quite honestly, it scared him.

"Hey," said Kate's soft voice, sitting down beside him.

He didn't protest, partially because he half-expected her to come. Something told him Kate wouldn't just leave him be.

"Fire burn out?" Kate asked sympathetically.

"Damn wind," Jack let out a snort, "guess they thought it'd explode."

Kate smiled a little in pity. Jack didn't even have the energy to fend it off.

"It's funny," Kate said lightly, "hearing you cuss."

"I didn't cuss," Jack protested.

By the time he finished his statement, what he said before was already lost in his memory. Kate smiled even more.

"When you work in a ward with child patients with their parents around, you have to watch it," Jack said defensivly.

Instead of being defeated, Kate looked interested in what he was saying. Jack couldn't help but to be grafetul for the new subject. Though it was sometimes paintful to talk about the previous life, he knew deep down he shouldn't- and didn't want to- forget it.

"Did you work with kids a lot?" Kate asked curiously.

"Sometimes" Jack replied thoughtfully. "When they needed a miracle."

Kate eyed him inquisitvly.

"I had this patient once," Jack started. He couldn't think of anything else to do but tell his story. "Car wreck victim. Her back was broken. Everyone thought she'd never be able to walk again."

"Everyone," Kate said, "but not you?"

She eyed him with a hint of pride. The thought that she approved made Jack smile.

"Not me," he comfirmed. "And I saved her. She was walking again after a few months of phsyical therapy."

"That's great." Kate praised. "What happened next?"

"I married her."

"Oh."

Realizing she knew this story, Kate grew quiet. She had the excitement of get ready to watch a classic film, ready for a date, when she realized too late that she'd already seen the picture.

"You move fast," Kate complimented, attempting to smile at her failed comic relief.

She held her breath, as if coming to another sudden realization.

"I'm not like that now," Jack assured her in the most sincere tone he could muster. "I married her because I felt..commited..to her. Like I saved her, so I should be there for her."

The explination didn't seem to cheer Kate up at all. Of anything, she looked even more hurt. She drew in a quick breath, as if hesitant about asking what was on her mind.

"Did you-" Kate swallowed hard, resting her head in her hand for support, "did you stay with me because you thought you needed to save me?"

She glanced at him, daring him with her accusing, betrayed eyes. This was the moment, Jack knew, that all pregnant women must fear. He'd seen it with patients, but ironically, he'd experienced it first hand- as a father. It was the fear that their whole relationship had been a lie. The realization that things were wrong from the start. The fear of being alone, the hatred, betrayel. Tension loomed over them like death.

Why did he think of that comparison?

"I didn't save you," Jack defended quickly.

That, of course, didn't help. Emotions kicking in, Kate's eyes looked like they were watering behind her well-guarded wall. The wall only feelings could past through, never anything deeper. Kate was rarely the one to cry or break down, at least not in front of others.

"I mean," Jack took a deep breath. For the first time in a long time, his brain actually hurt. Only once or twice in his life had he been drunk, but even that head-pounding experience couldn't amount to the restless mind he was wrestling with now. "It was more like the other way around."

He had hoped the comment would lighten Kate up a bit. Desperate to help, he offered her a small smile.

"But still," Kate went on, "did you stay with me because I helped you? Is that why we're here today?"

Jack was growing frustrated with himself. He didn't seem to be able to think of one helpful thing to say, and he was ruining things by the minute. This conversation could very well end with Kate running off into the jungle, finally breaking down in tears.

In the jungle, where'd she'd be defensless.

In the jungle, where the monster was...

Jack shivered.

"No," Jack shook his head, "no, that's not why we're here today. Or at least I thought."

Kate didn't respond. That distant stare was back, telling Jack that he'd best not interere. For a few moments he respected that, but then he felt guilty. Like that stare was in the past, and this was now.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Jack said at last.

The statement seemed to have no effect on Kate, which made Jack feel even worse. Instead of responding she stood up, placing a hand on his knee before getting to her feet.

"Just get some rest," she pleaded, before once again leaving him alone.

Defeated and alone, Jack stared at the ground. Sometimes he just didn't understand. She cared, he knew, but why did she always walk away? Leave him to it, like that was actually helpful to him? There was nothing worse than being alone, especially when it's forced upon you. Yet Jack was a verteran at this, living all his life with a father who could've cared less what he wanted or what he felt. Living that kind of childhood gradually caused him to distance himself from everyone, becoming a social disaster. When they crashed on the island five months ago, it was always a wonder to Jack that people looked up to and respected him so much. Sure, at work people loved him and praised him for his miracles, but in the end it would be he sitting alone at home while everyone else was at staff parties. Part of him would actually hope someone would call him up and ask where he was, but when no one did, he knew he was right. Staying at home was just the thing for him. He didn't necessarily like it, but aside from being forced into solitude, there was also nothing worse than being alone when no one else was. These thoughts made him feel drousy, and his eyelids suddenly came to a heavy droop. Before he knew it he was asleep, getting the rest Kate begged him to take. But from what it looked like, it would be a long time before he rest in peace.

(space)

"No honey, you can't have the rock," Claire said in a near whine, trying not to sound too frustrated. Beside her Charlie strummed his guitar, a pad of paper by his side for when he came up with the brilliant new lyrics that hadn't come to mind in weeks. Picking Aaron up off the ground, Claire wrestled the rock from his tiny fist. "Rocks are bad for you."

"I used to eat rocks when I was a kid," Charlie mused, fingering triple minor sounding chords.

You also used to do drugs.

But Claire figured that wasn't the best argument to make.

"Yes," Claire said seriously before talking in her usual baby tone she used with Aaron, "but some of us want to grow up to be healthy boys."

"So that's the big secret then," Charlie teased with a grin.

Rolling her eyes, Claire set Aaron back down. The chid, now four months old, fell on his bottom as soon as she let go, landing on the cloth she had to use for a diaper. Immediatly he burst out crying, receiving glares from near by pedestrians. Sighing, Claire picked Aaron back up to try and calm him down.

"There, there," she told him soothingly, "you'll walk someday." To herself, she added: "You better."

Charlie snorted.

"You know," he began, "you keep taking that tone with him and he might just learn how to walk on water."

Claire glared at him over Aaron's round head.

"I mean, if my dad told me I had to learn to play Mozart by the time I was five, I would've, the way he spoke sometimes," Charlie reminiced. Suddenly his tone grew slightly darker. "Not that he would've cared."

"I didn't know you played piano," Claire said, sitting Aaron back down carefully, thankful for a light subject opportunity that didn't have to do with the way she mothered her child.

She hadn't done this before. Claire didn't even know when babies were supposed to begin walking. In the cartoons she'd watch as a child they'd sometimes began at one, but then again they talked and went on adventurous journies as well. So how was she supposed to know if she was doing something right? Honestly, Claire found it hard to believe that no one on the island had kids or took care of some, and was beginning to believe they just didn't want to help. The suggestion made her furious. At first it seemed great being on the island with a baby, because people seemed so awed to have a new life on board. But that was when she was pregnant. Now she was alone, possibly more alone that she would've been back home. At least here, she knew, she had Charlie. He was a lucky catch. Not that she just concidered him a help figure, she really liked him. Charlie was sweet, despite his old habbits, and deep down, he was religious.

"Hey, what's Aaron got?" Charlie said suddenly, interrupting her thoughs.

Looking over, Claire saw that Aaron had grabbed ahold of a silver chain. Half of it was now in his mouth, and Charlie was just watching in wonder as he chewed on the chain links.

"Charlie!" Claire cried, yanking the chain from Aaron. He began crying, and Charlie was the first to get to him this time. Bouncing Aaron in his arms, he watched as Claire unfolded the necklace. "It's a cross."

At the very end of the strand was a simple silver cross, like the ones churches may offer for free. The chain itself looked pretty cheap, some of the material rusted off by sand.

"Is it yours?" She asked, showing Charlie the necklace.

As soon as he took it in his hands Aaron made a grab for it, and Charlie had to pull him away, examing the chain from afar.

"No," Charlie replied, "sorry. Looks like Christmas came early." He paused thoughtfully. "Or late."

Handing the necklace back to Claire, she studied it, looking for any kind of engraving. The object felt so foreign in her hands, as she had never really been religious. The only religion she had faith in was astrology which, at times, she did believe and preach like a religion. Then again, look where it landed her.

"Maybe it belongs to someone around here," she theorized.

"Maybe," Charlie agreed half-heartly, already returning to strumming his guitar, having set Aaron, who was now having a blast making teeny tiny sandpiles, on the sand beside him.

Though Charlie was already drifting back into his own world, Claire's mind was still on the necklace. For some reason she didn't feel comfortable even holding it, almost like it was cursed.

"Here," she said suddenly, thrusting the chain towards Charlie, "you have it."

He eyed her.

"Since you insist," Charlie said, a little perplexed at her behavior.

He took the cross necklace from Claire, clasping it around his neck. She stared at it for a moment, wondering why it would entrance her like it did.

"What?" Charlie said, looking behind him. "Does it make my butt look big?"

(space)

Jack was staring out to the ocean, dark storm clouds overhead, rushing around him in clouds of distant lightening. But even the dangers didn't keep him from wanting nothing more than to dive into that ocean water, no matter how warm or cool it was. It'd been awhile since he'd taken a swim. Not to mention there was the round, black spot that suddenly merged from the sea awhile ago, staring him down as it swirled around, inviting him to investigate. He stared at it for a good while, wondering and dreaming of what the spot could be. Maybe it was coffee. Or oil. How that would get this far out and only be in that one small spot, Jack didn't know, but it sounded interesting. Pulling off his shoes, Jack decided maybe it would be a good time for a swim. Never mind the approaching storm.

Near the ocean-floor Jack saw that the black spot was no longer black, but a gleaming white light had taken its place, entrancing him. He swam for the light, kicking his feet as hard as he could. Instead of feeling sore from the foreign excersise, he felt excited. Anxious. When he finally reached the bottom he felt around, banging his fist against the ground until they hit against something hard. A hatch. It was small, with a teeny shrand of glass to look throw, though all it offered was darkness. But with a single strand of white light floating through it. Feeling almost mechanical Jack pounded on the door, wishing he had something to pry it open with. At the very thought, the hatch door flew open, missing hitting him by inches. Momentarily he looked from the hatch to the tunnel inside, and without further hestiance swam through. He had to know what was in there. Hatches weren't built for no reason.

For a few feeet there was nothing but tunnels, but Jack didn't doubt himself. Kicking on, cold water passed him from the nearby storm. At last the tunnel turned, though only growing darker. The white light had disapeared, disapointing him.

As he swam on, Jack realized this tunnel was different. Blue emergancy lights clicked on at what was no longer the ocean floor, but solid ground. Around him, manmade walls soon turned into glass. The ocean floated by behind him. The room opened up ahead, and just to double check, Jack looked back to make sure nothing was behind him. He couldn't even see the hatch door. Jack pushed himself into the room like he was diving for gold. And he seemed to hit the jackpot.

Red control pannels lined the ground, taking the shape of large buttons. No screen was in front of him, unless it was hidden. But the button was glowing, almost as though it was mocking his doubt. Jack hesitated, hand now over the red controls. What would happen if he pushed it?

Suddenly Jack blinked and looked around. Immediatly he was in a panic. Underwater..he was underwater. Why the hell would be in the ocean, let alone this far down? Especially with the storm coming. Panicing, Jack swam in frantic circles. Surely he wasn't alone..surely. But after a few complete turns, Jack knew he was. Air was become a struggle to get, as he wasn't used to having to breathe through his nose. He was drowning...he was certain of it. Closing his eyes, the stinging sensation of the saltwater hit him in a late reaction, and Jack clamped his eyes shut tightly. Shortly after he was forced to open them again.

Maybe he was dreaming, Jack thought. That had to be it. The last thing he remembered was Kate leaving him again and drifting to sleep. So this had to be a dream, right? And in a dream, nothing could hurt him. The theory eased Jack a little, but he still felt paniced, rushed even. That was when he noticed the buttons. Confussed, Jack stared down at them, trying to make out the foreign looking writing on the red control pad. What was it for? Where the hell was he?

At least, he thought, the worst had to be over.

As if answering him, determining to make the situation worse than it already was, a gush of rushing water suddenly flooded the room, sending Jack crashing into the glass walls. He expected them to break, sending him plummeting into the deep sea, but sterdy, they kept him in the room. He choked on the saltwater, mouth opening in a gasp of pain as he hit the glass. Pain shot up his shoulder as well, reminding him momentarily of his old injury from the cave-in. There'd definetly be a bruise after that. Desperatly he tried to fight against the rush, but it kept pulling him back down. Jack struggled to regain control, but his hands and feet waved everywhich way, until one of them accidently banged against one of the red buttons on the ground. A soft beeping feeled the air, and through his burning eyes Jack saw that one of the walls was indeed opening.

Briefly Jack concidered letting himself be tossed into the room, just to be free of the foamy water that was quickly engulfing him. He wapped his fingers around the edges of the glass walls, palms immediatly slit in attempts to hold on. Biting down to keep from opening his mouth again, Jack tried to wait out the rush. As he struggled he hated himself, hated himself for being so vulnerable to something so dangerous and risky. God knew what would happen now, and all Jack could do was hope it'd all be over soon. Not literally. He'd never felt so alone or terrified in his life. Even at the second plane crashing he'd been in too much immediate shock to experience such fear.

"You'll be okay."

At the voice, Jack jerked his head around, looking for a source. His hands screamed in pain, and he knew he had to let go soon if he wanted to be able to use them any time soon.

"Trust me."

Trust who? Maybe the voice was inside the room, he thought. The one he, for some reason, hadn't been pushed into yet. But when he looked over, what he saw couldn't be a source of speaking. It wasn't even human. In the room, gaining speed, was a wild cyclone. Or at least that's what it looked like. The tornado-like thing looked so transparent it could've been as simple as swirling air. But it was swirling so fast it made Jack dizzy, lightheaded, and just as true darkness came over him, the last thing he saw was the funnel taking force, rushing itself forward into an unknown place.

(space)

Two strong arms grabbed Jack from underneath his elbows, both men's strength fighting to get back to shore safely. Wind blew in fury around them, but somehow they were able to make it back onto shore, collasping in the sand, gasping for breath. Gently someone else lay Jack down and, shaking, Kate leaned over him.

"Does anyone know CPR?" Sawyer shouting to the crowd gathering around them.

Murmers replied instead of anwers, and just as Sawyer was cursing at the response, Kate spoke up.

"That doesn't matter," she replied. "He doesn't need it."

At her smile, Sayid and Sawyer looked down to Jack, who was slowly awakening. Drenched head to foot, Jack looked okay except for his hands, both laying limp to his sides in a puddle of blood. Over the reunion moment, Sayid called for someone to find some cloth to stop the bleeding. His demands were the first thing Jack heard as he came to, eyes blinking in protest at the stinging salt lingering at his eyelids. Kate's face came into a wavy view, smiling in relief. Sighing, she sat back on her heals. Breathing felt impossible, but yet Jack kept going, looking around in frantic confussion. A hard slap to his shoulder brought him fully into reality.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Kate demanded, firm but too relieved to truly get onto him. "Jack-"

"I have to go back," Jack said suddenly, struggling to sit up.

"What?" Kate inquired, pushing him back down to the sand. "No, Jack, you could've been killed!"

"There's someone down there!" Jack exclaimed. Suddenly he squeezed his eyes shut. They burnt so badly... "There was a voice, and this tornado.."

"Tornado?" Kate repeated in disbelief. She studied him, contemplating his reason. "You hit your head."

"No," as he sat it, Jack subconsiously felt behind his head, feeling for a lump of any kind. There was a small one, but only from hitting the glass. Nothing like that would make him delarious. And he wasn't.

Kate's hand was on his shoulder the second he tried to sit up. The touch reminded him of the pain he felt when he hit the glass, and Jack hissed as the burning sensation came back to him.

"Here," Sayid said, falling down beside him.

Against his will his hands were being wrapped with cloth, pressure being put on him to stop the bleeding. His wrist were covered with blood, but surely it wasn't his..even at the thought of the loss his head felt suddenly lighter, and Jack felt like blacking out again.

"Don't let him fall asleep," Sayid instructed, "he may have a concussion."

He grimaced in pain as hard pressure was suddenly put on one of his palms. His insistance was ignored, while above him Kate and Sayid faught to stop the bleeding. Sawyer was gone, and only a couple of onlookers remained, clearly interested in what was being said above him. A look of confusion came over Sayid just then, and Kate looked at him.

"What?" She inquired, sounding slightly nervous.

"There's glass," Sayid explained, puzzled as he showed Kate the bits of glass wedged in the blood on his hands.

Above Jack they exchanged looks, and then diverted their eyes back down to Jack, who was already fast asleep.

(space)

Jack woke up again to pounding raindrops. They sounded distant, but when he looked around, Jack saw that they were just outside. He was back in Kate's tent, which seemed darker than usual. With sore bones and aching hands, Jack found it hard to move, and had to result to looking around for Kate. She wasn't hard to find, as she was sitting next to him, hands dropped to the ground as she stared at them distantly.

"You didn't have a concussion," Kate informed him quietly.

"Good thing," Jack said, shifting weight in the sand so that his bad shoulder wasn't supporting him, "you let me sleep?"

He meant it partially as a joke, but Kate didn't take it lightly at all. Her glare silenced him, reminding him of his earlier guilt and regret.

"What the hell were you thinking, Jack?" Kate demanded for the second time that afternoon, sounding helpless. Jack opened his mouth to protest, but Kate cut him off quickly. "After all we've been through-" too shook up to continue steadily, Kate stood up and began pacing. A strong wind blew against the tent's walls, and Jack shivered, remembering the cyclone. He was so sure it had been a dream...

"What the hell were you thinking?" Kate demanded again, now too helpless to be infuriated. Before Jack could try and argue, she stood up and began pacing the cramped space. "It was about to storm Jack! And where the hell did you go?"

"There was.." Jack blinked, the memory already feeling far away, "a black spot!"

"I don't care if there was a pony in the water, Jack!" Kate cried out. "You can't keep doing this!"

"Doing what?" Jack inquired, confussed.

He tried to lift his head but immediatly fell back down. Jack's throat was dry and itchy and he wished he had some water. Freshwter.

"You need to sleep," Kate begged desperatly, meeting Jack's stinging eyes with her pleading ones, "it's effecting your mind!"

"I-" Jack fought to think of an excuse for himself, a reason. Even he didn't know why he'd be down there, especially during a storm, but Jack knew he wouldn't willingly go. Maybe it was sleep. No. Jack shook his head. He was fine, no matter what Kate said. "I'm fine."

Kate's pleading gazed turned incredulous.

"No you're not!" Kate exclaimed. Letting out a frustrating cry, Kate slapped her knees and stood up. "I don't know what I'm going to do. I- Jack, we have a baby on the way! I'm sorry, but you can't jump at every mission like you used to." Pausing to catch her breath, Kate looked at him and somehow he knew she'd use an empathetic touch to get through to him. "And we both know what it's like to grow up without a father."

It went unspoken that she meant a real father- a dad. Someone who would be there all the time, at all cost. And even Jack knew that meant he needed to take care of himself now to make sure he reached that point. Then they'd go from there.

"Okay," Jack sighed, knowing she was right, "I'll stop."

He struggled but Jack was determined to stand, back hurting from laying down on the ground after his fight in the sea. Grimmacing in pain, Jack held his back for support, wanting to stand long enough to make himself clear to Kate.

"I promise," he added, meeting Kate's hopeful, yet still doubting, eyes, "I'll do everything I can to protect us...and the baby."

Subconsiouly he glanced down at Kate's stomach, though he knew she wouldn't be showing for awhile. They were still safe, as far as telling the others was concerned. Apparently satisfied with his promised, Kate wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Returning the embrace, for the first time since his rescue he realized he felt no psyical pain, but before he could feel too relived, Kate released herself from him. Her hand lingered in one of his, fingering the bandage carefully wrapped around his palm.

"Where the hell did you go?" She asked, this time sounding more worried rather than demanding.

"I don't know," Jack admited, sounding as though it were a personal failure.

And in a way, it was. If he was going to risk his life like that doing what, sleepwalking? At least he could know where he went. This was just insane...who swam while they were sleeping? He couldn't even swim that well awake. Suddenly he was very grateful someone must've noticed from offshore, because truthfully he didn't know how well he could've made it back, especially with his injuries.

"Hey, doc?" A voice asked from outside.

The rain was quietening down, and Kate pushed opened the tent flap.

"Hey Richard," Kate greeted.

The most they knew about Richard was that at one time he worked as a circus clown, but he seemed pretty nice. He didn't talk much to Jack and Kate, but apparently he was good friends from Hurley, recognizing him from LA. One thing they did know, however, was that Richard wasn't the one to make enemies, yet here he was standing with a cut over his brow.

"What happened?" Kate inquired, tilting his head over slightly.

"I'm fine," Richard insisted, blushing a little as he forced Kate's hand down, "but you might want to check on the southerner."

Looking over, Jack and Kate saw that, despite the rain, Sawyer had managed to still get into an argument with someone. But this wasn't the normal arugment of fairness, this looked heated. People tried to calm him down, only resulting in being thrown back by Sawyer himself. Had he touched the right nerve, it would've seemed very plausible for Richard to receive such a cut.

"I'll see what's wrong," Jack announced, though Kate followed him anyway.

(space)

He was so tired. Sawyer was saying something to him, shouting something to him, but Jack couldn't even muster the energy to understand. He tried to get some rest, like Kate instructed, but the fear of another dream kept him out of the realm of peaceful rest. All that afternoon he'd done nothing but sit there like a useless lump on a log, regretting the decision to move to the beach. At least at the caves they had some privacy. Jack supposed if he had given some more thought to it he would've gone to a more secluded part of the beach, but his restless mind mechanically built his fire(though it grew increasingly warm throughout the day), and just sat there, trying to ignore the looks and glares he receieved. You should be doing something, they told him, sitting around is for someone else to do.

They don't understand, Jack thought desperatly in response to the glares, giving the owners no verbal explanation of his sudden solitary behavior. Turning their noises up, the people simply walked away. They didn't really care, he knew. Had they cared they would've stopped and asked, like Kate.

Yet there was a new voice inside his head aside from everyone elses inner thoughts. A voice that told him he needed to get used to moving around and working again. There was a lot to do. In his head he made a list of everything they'd need over the next nine months and the eighteen years following. Everything from a crib to a car for college entered his mind. It was a fun game to play, but he knew it was useless as his sitting at that fire. Where was he going to find a crib on the island? And he already knew the answer to the car question. Even if they found a road on the island, it would only stir up suspicion. Especially towards me. Because lately, everytime he was the one to discover something, it seemed as though people were less enthused as they used to be. Almost down right accusing. Like this is all my fault.

And maybe it is.

But once he had managed to get some rest, Jack had the wonderful experience of sleepwalking, or whether, sleepswimming- right into the ocean. The last thing he wanted to deal with was Sawyer, but apparently Rebecca was missing, and there was no calming him down. While Kate took it into her hands to fix the cut over Richard's eye, Jack went over to try and get through to Sawyer, who was in the middle of accusing two or three people of having some riddulous part in this when Jack interrupted:

"How long has she been missing?" He called out.

Heads turned towards him immediatly. Trying not to feel intemidated by the wondering eyes who clearly knew about Jack's underwater adventure, he waited for Sawyer's answer. But even Sawyer looked a little stumped by his sudden appearance.

"She ran off a few hours ago," he finally replied, in a much calmer tone than he'd been using with everyone else.

"Ran off," Jack repeated, hardly giving any concideration to the answer from the way it sounded. "Then she'll come back."

Sawyer let out a low, hoarse cough, as if all his yelling was taking a short toll on him.

"Yeah," he said sarcastically, "when you find her chewed up and spit out like a sunflower seed. Blood, guts, and all."

To be using such a grusome comparison, Sawyer didn't seem too choked up about it, but then again he'd never been the one to sit around and share emotions. But Jack knew he was right, especially if Rebecca went out into the jungle, and haunting visions of finding Alex assured him he didn't want to go through that again. As much as he hated to say it, Sawyer and Rebecca were probably closer than Alex and Danielle were, but only because time was definetly not on their side. The one thing Jack knew was that he didn't want to be around if history repeated himself, but the horrific part was, he knew he had to.

"We didn't hear it," Jack said assuringly, "I'm sure she's just-"

"Don't give me that," Sawyer said incredulously. Now Jack felt like he was talking to a kid whose puppy just ran away. "Are you going to help me? Or are you going to be like the rest of these people who cry everytime they step foot in the jungle, when four months ago they were picking berries and swimming in waterfalls!" No one bothered to mentioned that none of them, save Kate and Sawyer, had ever swam in a waterfall on the island. But besides that, Sawyer turned specifically to Jack. "So tell me, why the hell is it so different now?"

"Because now people have died," Kate said, stepping up supportivly by Jack. She offered him a smile, but the gratefulness went unspoken.

"How sweet," Sawyer snapped bitterly. He through his hands up in an exaggerating way, his tone mimicking the effort. "Guess I'll just have to go out by myself then."

In his mind, Jack could just hear Sawyer silently adding: Out there with that big 'ole monster. Just me and him. 'Course, it could be female.

Sighing, Jack tried to ignore Kate beside him, who was warning him with her eyes not to speak up. It wasn't that she didn't want either of them to help out, but just an hour ago Jack sleptwalked into the ocean. Not to mention his promise and her own worries of the baby's future.

"Sawyer, wait," Jack called out.

Sawyer stopped, a sly grin on his face. He clearly had this planned.

"You coming?" Sawyer asked him. Despite his near begging, their was no trace of helplessness in his voice.

And despite Jack's speaking up, he hesitated. Part of him, he guessed, expected Sawyer to just walk off or turn him down. Relucant to answer, Jack remained silent. Sending Sawyer off alone searching for someone with a monster loose was murder, suicide, but the same if he went along. Maybe one life-threatening adventure was enough for the day. But if Rebecca was out there alone...

"You're afraid just like everyone else," Sawyer spat accusingly. He took a step closer, minimizing the space between them. "I don't give a damn what plane you saw out there-" he jabbed a finger at Jack, "but if she dies- or worse- I'll make sure you never forget about it."

Jack could feel dozens of pairs of eyes fall on him. Even the trees seemed to look and whisper along with everyone else, the crowd growing silent aside from the sparking rumors arousing from curiosity and confussion. When he was younger he was always victim of pranks and teasing at school, but he couldn't remember ever feeling this humiliated. It'd stunned him into silence, and Kate didn't say a word either. Though he didn't fight back, Sawyer stared him down, almost as if he dared to turn away, Jack would jump on him.

"Thought so," Sawyer said quietly, turning to leave.

He let Sawyer get all the way to the jungleline before calling after him. Closing his eyes, he could just picture finding Sawyer's body out there somewhere, or worse, Rebecca finding him.

"Sawyer!"

Kate immediatly grabbed his hand.

"Jack.." she tried desperatly.

It seemed like he was just wanting to prove himself to Sawyer, and though he hated that, he knew that wasn't the truth. Staring after him for a moment, Jack spoke up.

"I'll go."

There was a tug on his arm, and he realized Kate's hand never left his. He looked at her, meeting her eyes, feeling what she was thinking.

"Can I talk to you?" It wasn't a question. Pulling Jack to the side, Kate did her best to hide them from the other's view without disapearing completly.

"What's up?" Jack asked casually.

Hands on her hips, Kate stared at him, mouth agape.

"What about what you just said?" Kate said, immediatly lashing out at him. "About protecting me and keeping safe?"

Jack looked at her like he didn't know what she was talking about, stealing a glance towards the audience watching them carefully.

"Unless we want to tell them," Jack said, lowering his voice significantly, "things need to stay the same." Right away Kate began to protest, but Jack quickly cut her off. "I'll be okay," he promised her, "I'll come back."

He contemplating kissing her then. Jack didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable in front of everyone else, but he thought it might reassure her. As time drew on, he gave her hand a squeze and walked over to Sawyer, who already had a gun waiting for him. Sawyer made some comment about Jack's change of mind, but he didn't hear him, the gun feeling so heavy in his sore hands that it seemed to draw him out of the world for a moment. Just knowing Sawyer had a spare gun waiting made him feel slightly more nervous than usual about the mission. Sawyer usually wasn't so serious, and Jack decided that now, more than ever, they couldn't fail, and more importantly, they had to come back.

(space)

"Let me have some of that."

Daniel pointed at Boone's waterbottle, propped up against his bag on the computer table. He raised an eyebrow, but threw the bottle at him anyway. The man intemidated him so much that he was afraid to turn his back on him. As Daniel downed nearly half his water, Rebecca squirmed in the chair she was tied to, desperatly trying to talk...and escape. Someone would discover she was missing soon, Boone knew, and he didn't want to face Sawyer after that. Boone glanced towards Rebecca sympathetically, and wanted badly to somehow be able to assure her that nothing was going to happen. The hunting knife he'd pinned Locke down with was still attached to his belt loop, and at any safe moment, Boone felt confident in using it. But what he needed was a gun, it'd be faster. Shuddering, Boone wondered how he'd learn to think like that.

"Look, let's just let her go," Boone tempted. At least maybe this way he could get some information. For example, how Callum's supposingly dead friend managed to come back and kidnap a girl. "What use is she to us?"

He was almost afraid of the answer, and regretted asking. Whatever the reason was, he didn't want Rebecca to hear. It'd worry her, scare her, and somehow, Boone was still able to convince himself that this would turn around soon. Locke and Sayid were out there somewhere, they wouldn't just disapear for the afternoon.

"Found her in the jungle, sneaking around," Daniel said, disgusted, "thought she might be one of them...Others. Then again, you'd know that, wouldn't you?"

Boone swallowed. Suddenly he hated his lie. Thinking quickly, Boone wondered if Daniel would buy another one. Just before he opened his mouth, Boone realized that if he was an Other, and she was an Other, he would've mentioned it by now.

"I haven't seen her," Boone said, shooting an apologetic glance towards Rebecca, "but she looks harmless."

"Put up a good fight."

It was a half-hearted argument; Daniel clearly wasn't going to be quick to let his hostage go.

"Who can blame her?" Boone said defensivly.

Daniel raised an eyebrow.

"Well if you're that worried about her," he said, "or that confident, whichever. Untie her. See what happens."

Rebecca's eyes filled immediatly with hope, and Boone had to stop himself from acting too relieved.

"Okay then," he replied, afraid to let a moment go to waste.

Quickly as he could without appearing to rush himself, Boone walked over to Rebecca, and held his breath as he first took off her gag. She gasped for breath as soon as she was able to, panting desperatly for freedom and air. Watching them, Daniel snorted.

"Yeah," he said sarcastically, "definetly Other material."

Boone glared at him, making sure he was already in the process of untying her before Daniel could change his mind. At last the binds were off, and Rebecca's arms dropped limply to her sides. She looked up at him, maybe in reassurance, he didn't know, but at her desperate look, Boone felt more in over his head than ever. Where the hell was Locke and Sayid? Even worse, though this guy claimed to be Callum's friend, he was defiently noticing their differences. Callum could be sarcastic when he needed to be, but he was definetly more cautious. This guy was more like Sawyer, never thinking before speaking. Daniel definetly had an ego, and Boone couldn't see how he and Callum could've ever been friends.

Ignoring Daniel's comment, he folded the rope in his hands, not willing to give it back just yet. Daniel's eyes were still on them, watching Rebecca carefully.

"So how'd you get here?" Daniel asked Rebecca, stepping towards her. Knealing down before her, Boone could see Rebecca growing tense.

For the first time, Boone heard Rebecca talk.

"I was in a plane crash," Rebecca whispered in the most quiet, shy voice Boone ever heard. He'd never though any girlfriend of Sawyer's could've been that calm.

Quickly she glanced up at Boone, and for a fearful moment, he thought his plan would be lost. She seemed to get his message and quickly looked away.

"From where?"

Rebecca cleary didn't understand his question, and she looked afraid when Daniel groaned in frustration.

"Where were you flying from?" He asked, fighting to keep his patience.

Maybe he really doesn't want to hurt her, Boone thought hopefully, after all, he thought she may be an Other. Maybe he was just being precautious.

"Australia," Rebecca said softly.

Her voice sounded so small and inocent against the walls and content of the hatch, and in a sick thought Boone realized this place was where innocence came to die.

"What the hell was a girl like you doing in Australia?" The question was more forced than the othe two, scaring Rebecca into replying without the thought her answer deserved.

"My sister died."

The personal response didn't effect Daniel's authoritative demaenor at all. He did watch her closely for a moment, and the thought that Daniel was looking for some kind of reaction from Rebecca herself made Boone's fist clench in fury.

"What the hell does this have to do with anything?" Boone demanded.

Daniel looked up at him, as if deeply interested in the question.

"Because if she was in a plane crash," Daniel began, "then there are more of her."

He gave the suggestion a moment to sink in, but Rebecca didn't need it.

"I'm alone," she cut in quickly. They both turned to her, Boone slightly more surprised. Rebecca tilt her head down, putting on a fairly convincing act. "I was the only one who survived. I was just out looking for food. Please..." when she looked up again, her cheeks were melted with tears. Real or fake, she was certainly a good actress. "I don't know anything about where I am. Let me go...please."

With pleading eyes she met Daniel's, and suddenly even he seemed to grow softer. A long moment passed, full of hope, as both Boone and Rebecca held their breath for a reply.

"Sorry hon," surpisingly, Daniel actually made an atempt to sound apologetic, though it came off with sarcasm, "this island's too dangerous for you to walk around on alone-" he got to his feet, "why don't you join us?"

Automatically Rebecca looked to Boone, who answered for her.

"Let's let her go," Boone said, swallowing his wavering tone.

Daniel looked at him, and at that moment Boone was sure he knew everything- maybe he even knew all along.

And where the hell was Sayid and Locke?

"No," Daniel said firmly, sounding annoyed at the comment, "it wasn't a suggestion. She's staying with us."

By now Boone knew when Rebecca was panicing: her breathing grew more frequent, frightened, and her eyes would dart around the room, desperate for hope. Which was exactly what was happening now. The last thing Boone wanted her to do was panic, because when people paniced, they tended to act without thinking. Desperate himself, Boone scanned the room for an escape. That's when he noticed the gun sticking out of Daniel's back pocket. There was no guarantee it was loaded, but if Boone could somehow get an advantage, he could at least knock the man unconscious with it. Now all he needed was an opportunity.

As if answering his thoughts, the computer suddenly beeped.

"What the hell was that?" Daniel inquired, turning towards the screen, which was still lit up with the map of the island.

Rebecca watched, eyes wide with fear, as if just realizing it was there for the first time. Personally Boone didn't know why the system was suddenly beeping either, but he found himself not worried as he noticed the gun sticking out, as if just waiting for him. So, taking the chance, Boone dove, knocking Daniel over as he caught him off-guard. Boone immediatly scurried to get the gun, which was now pinned to the floor. What he was now worried about was it suddenly going off at the impact. But it didn't, and Boone easily grabbed a hold of it.

He could never remember feeling so alert during a fight; he was even able to block the punches Daniel threw at him. Now didn't even know why he was so worried before, Daniel wasn't even that strong. But as if he needed to contradict his thoughts, Boone found himself suddenly flying back, sailing until he skidded across the floor to a stop. The gun fumbled in his hands, and spare shots bounced off the walls. Rebecca screamed. Boone flinched as a fist came down at him, but somehow his legs began working again, and he kicked up. All he knew was that Daniel was off him now, and this was his opportunity. Struggling for breath Boone fumbled again with the gun, attempting to point it in the direction of Daniel, who was moaning in pain as he lay sprawled about on the hatch floor. The computer beeped again, as if reminding them of where they were, but Boone ignored it. The gun was now pointed at Daniel, and this was his chance. Heart pounding, Boone let his finger clasp around the trigger and began to pull it towards him.

But nothing happened. Rebecca, now standing, watched him desperatly. He knew he was her only hope, and she could've even ran away by now, but she'd stayed there with him. Then again, she didn't know why he was down there. Maybe she thought he was being held captive too. That made him feel selfish...in all the time he spent down here, Boone tended to forget how cut off they were from everyone, how much easier they appeared to have it down here. Hell, not only did this place have food, but it was cool, unlike the beach, where the survivors now reasigned. Boone couldn't even consider himself a castaway anymore. He had survived. Now he was just another worker, a slave, to the island's horrifc union.

But even that couldn't explain why he stood there now, gun raised but frozen, shaking slightly in his shoes. One bullet, and this could be over. One bullet, and another life would die in his hands.

Suddenly a whoosh flew past him. Rebecca screamed again, looking away, unlike Boone, who stood there, watching as Daniel helplessly cried out in pain. His chest became spots of red liquid before his eyes, and Boone didn't move as he watched, transfixed, as another bullet whized by, finishing the job.

"I never really liked him," a voice behind him confessed.

It took a full moment before Boone could turn to discover Callum behind him, holding a gun as he clutched painfully at his leg, which was still in its makeshift cast. Sweat sprinkled down his forehead in beads, as Callum was unused to the labor of moving, having been confined to bedrest by Jack, who would've had no idea what was going on.

"Too daring for me," Callum went on, "would've jumped off a cliff if we paid him for it."

The comment was for comic relief, but no one laughed. The gun was still heavy in Boone's hands, and he only now remembered it being there. Across the room, Rebecca didn't know what to think.

"Sorry," Callum said to her. He received her attention, but she wasn't as relieved as she would've liked to have been. "I'm Callum. Don't call me Cal. I'd shake your hand but-" he motioned to his leg.

Rebecca nodded understandably, but didn't say anything.

"He's all right," Boone said at last. He could worry about himself later. Wearily, he nodded to Callum. "Locke should be down here soon. And for the record, we aren't Others."

Silence was his reply, which was fine with Boone. He didn't want to think about another survivor finding out what was going on, the possibility of publicity, people finding out where he'd been all this time. Especially on Sayid's part, they'd lose a lot of trust. And trust was all they had.

"What the hell is this place?" Rebecca whispered, as if determined to overcome her shock. She even looked a little embarrased, now that everything was somewhat calm.

"Wish we knew," Boone replied, only half lying. He turned to Callum, who shrugged.

A loud banging filled the room in booming echoes, bouncing off the walls like someone trying to break in. Callum looked into the hallway, and Boone thought about the one way emergancy exit. But surely someone wouldn't be wanting to use that. Locke always insisted on using the ladder, and though it wasn't safe, Sayid agreed to it.

"You want to get that, mate?" Callum finally asked Boone, nodding towards the door.

After a moment, Boone realized he wasn't joking. Glancing towards Rebecca, he waited for her to protest. He felt slightly betrayed when she never did, but he went anyway. The banging grew louder as Boone crept closer to the door. When he reached it he stood there, staring at it for a good, long time. Who knew who was behind that door. As he sighed and reached over to pull it open, Boone realized he could've just checked the computer map. But luckily it was only Locke, short of breath and nursing a reddening fist.

(space)

"Would you stop doing that?" Sawyer hissed at Jack in frustration.

Jack jumped back in surprise, from where he'd nearly been walking on Sawyer's heals.

"Doing what?" Jack inquired innocently.

In front of them, Sayid rolled his eyes irritably as they continued to creep further into the jungle.

"Breathing down my neck," Sawyer snapped, "like a damn kid."

Jack's cheeks reddened conciterably, and he put a full foot's distance between himself and Sawyer.

"But don't worry," Sawyer said mockingly, "when the big, bad, monster comes for you, I'll protect you."

"Thanks for the reassurance," Jack remarked bitterly.

He figured Sawyer would be at least a little understanding of his parinoia, concidering what Jack'd been through in the jungle, but he should've known better. Rebecca had only been gone for a few hours, but Sawyer was already back to his old self. If it were Kate missing in this situation, Jack knew he'd probably be the same, if not worse. He did feel bad for Sawyer, but at the same time, Jack couldn't help but to feel furious about the way he was lured into the jungle.

"So what was that about back there?" Jack inquired.

Up ahead, Sayid looked interested in their conversation again. The sarcasm suddenly dropped in Sawyer, and a long silence fell in between them.

"You know what that thing does," Sawyer finally answered, speaking so quietly Jack couldn't even be sure he heard him right.

If he was Sawyer, he would've replied with some smart remark about the fear of being alone, but luckily for Sawyer, Jack wasn't him. Instead he kept quiet, relieved that he wasn't the only one with mixed feelings about stepping into what once was an escape. In the jungle, it was easy to let yourself get lost and, in the first days of being stranded, that seemed like such a joy at times. With forty people living on a single beach, it was difficult to get privacy. Sure, you could be alone, but not without someone suspecting something or asking if you were okay. As sweet as it was, eventually it grew tiring. Because they weren't okay. Time was supposed to tell, supposed to heal, and they were made of time. Yet things only got worse.

"Does it smell different to you?" Sawyer spoke up suddenly.

Ahead Sayid stopped in his tracks, looking down at something his foot had stopped on. Sawyer and Jack's eyes trailed to the ground as well, and the world seemed to stop at what they saw: a toothbrush. Curious, Jack diverted his eyes away from the toothbrush- pink with goldfish. A child's. Swallowing, Jack expected the worst as he crept along the edges of the path. Part of him planned to flee into the bushes at any sign of danger. Since when did his mind think like that? Previously, he practically welcomed danger. Now danger was testing his limits.

And if sky was the limit, the sky just exploded like Independence Day. He didn't know how far they walked, but it had to be further than it felt. The bushes suddenly felt far away, at the time when all Jack felt like doing was running. Jack knew he was choking on heavy smoke, but if anyone else was, he wouldn't know. His mind was blank. A soft buzzing pierced his eardrums, and Jack's eyes locked in on the scene in front of him.

With a strong hit of dejavu, Jack slowly took in the wreck around him. Luggage lay everywhere. Body parts, clothes, even a keyring was poking out of the ground. Sayid took one step, and they heard a crunch. Jack knew the sound, but Sawyer looked like he was going to be sick as the sickening sound of a bone breaking cracked the silent layer of air. Sayid looked up at Jack, as apologetic as Jack'd ever seen him. Suddenly his rapid breathing dropped tremendously, and Jack looked away, swallowing hard as he choked on air. He didn't have to see the passenger's familiar hand sticking out of the window, still begging for help, to know that this was the same plane he and Kate saw before. Though he didn't say it, Jack knew Sawyer figured out as much as well.

Blood could've splashed at his heals had he anticipated it, but Jack forced himself not to look down. Only around. A wheel of the plane was still spinning, as if depseratly hoping to fly off in escape. It's slow speed stired up the buzzing. Carefully Jack side-stepped bodies with arms stuck out in inhumane angles and cuts etched into their skin in patterns he'd never seen before, and put a hand on the wheel. Slowly it came to a stop, and silence took over once more. No one said or did anything, until Jack noticed Sawyer haunched over a body nearby. He didn't even have to say anything, and Sawyer dropped the cigaret pack he'd been holding, muttering something about 'withdrawals'. Sayid just watched them, still looking like he wanted nothing more than to be able to appologize for everything.

All at once Jack began to feel sick, nauseated, and the smoke and smell of death was once more eating at his lungs. Without saying a word he walked out of the scene. Immediatly, Sayid looked at Sawyer.

"I was only going to take one!" Sawyer snapped bitterly.

By then Jack was a good ways down the path, never keeping track of where he was going. At this rate he didn't care. Why did he have to see that? Was seeing the damn thing get eaten not enough? Once he was sure he was a good distance away, Jack leaned back against a tree, closing his eyes as he tried to suck in a breath of fresh air. Air that didn't reek of the dead. But as soon as he closed his eyes, Jack saw the plane laying there. In his mind he could hear the snap as Sayid crushed the finger, like it was happening again right next to him. Right then in there, Jack knew he'd never sleep again.

When Sawyer found him he was hunched over, pretending to be tying his shoe. The sweat trickling down his forehead might've tipped him off, or maybe it was the errie way Sawyer, like Kate, was able to read him like a book. Either way, Sawyer had come back alone.

"I know you're not tying that damn shoe," Sawyer snickered.

Jack let his foot down from the rock it was perched on. It was no use lying...and his leg was sore. He didn't say anything, but Jack straigtened up, taking a bottle of water out of his pack. But instead of opening it, he just stared at it.

"Because none of them will ever be able to drink again, right?" Sawyer spoke up, almost sarcastically. When Jack didn't reply, Sawyer grinned a little. "That's what all the shrinks say."

"Shrinks don't talk like that," Jack autamatically said, defensivly.

"And how would you know what a shrink talks like?"

Once again, Jack didn't answer. Sawyer smiled. But when Jack continued to be silent, Sawyer sighed drastically.

"Look, if it means anything to you, I'm sorry for the trouble," Sawyer said, as sincere as he could be, "maybe they won't ask about it."

Jack stared at the ground dreadfully.

"Yeah they will."

A long moment past, and briefly Jack found himself wondering where Sayid was. Was he back there, possibly burying bodies? What were they going to do with them? They couldn't start another signal fire; now wasn't the time for hope to be played.

"Are you gonna help me or not?" Sawyer asked at last, wasting no time.

This time Jack didn't answer because he didn't know what to say. No, he didn't want to be in the jungle anymore. In fact, he didn't even want to have to face the jungle. He wanted to sit by the beach, back to the trees that would haunt his nightmares for the rest of his life, and see nothing but the open sea; the sea that could bring so much good to them. But yet it didn't.

"Don't worry," Sawyer said at his silence. A hand fell briefly on his shoulder. "You're off the hook."

Sawyer walked away before he could protest, and before Jack knew it he was back at the beach. When Kate saw him step onto the sand, he couldn't even explain how he got there. She ran to him, catching him before he was hardly out of the shade.

"What happened?" Kate demanded. "Where are Sawyer and Sayid?"

"I don't know," Jack muttered, trying to walk on.

Just to the sea. He just wanted to get to the sea. Then he'd be fine.

"Jack!" Kate grabbed at his arm, and he jerked away. He didn't want to tell her what he just saw. To Kate, it was seemingly fading away, and he didn't want to bring it back. She grabbed his arm again, this time throwing him towards her. They stared at each other for a minute, daring the other to talk.

"I don't-" she began with a shake of her head.

Placing his hands on her shoulders, Jack forced her to meet his eyes.

"Promise me," Jack began, more slowly and forcefully this time, "that you won't go in the jungle."

Kate stared at him for a long moment, studying him for reasons. He'd be questioned, he knew, and now she was probably obligating just to get to that point.

"Okay," she agreed, nodding like an obedient child, "I won't, I promise."

Nearby, shifty eyes glared at what was being said, but Jack didn't notice as he wrapped his arms around Kate, as if needing to know that she was really there. Safe in his embrace, Kate was worried, but pulled herself together as they broke apart.

"Are you okay?" She asked him, concerned, but careful to not be to desperate.

"Yeah," Jack replied, just as she knew he would, "you?"

The question caught her off guard, and Kate's head shook in a double take.

"Fine," she replied uncertainly.

Kate stuck her hands in her pockets as Jack looked away, both unsure of what to say next.

"Do you think Rebecca's okay?" Kate asked finally.

It was a silly thing to say, both knew he couldn't possibly have an answer, but Jack didn't turn her down.

"I'm sure she's fine," Jack reassured her.

Another awkward pause passed until something caught Kate's eye from the jungle.

"That was fast," Kate commented, and Jack turned to see what she was looking at.

Sawyer and Sayid were making their way out of the jungle, Sawyer hobbling with Sayid supporting his weight. His ankle was stuck out in front of him at an odd angle, and Jack momentarily froze, remembering the broken bodies that still lay on the jungle floor. Somehow he still remembered to run and helped Hurley retrieve Sawyer from Sayid.

"What happened?" Jack asked Sayid, and then turned to Hurley, "set him down over here."

"He tripped," Sayid replied as Jack and Hurley lowered Sawyer onto an airline chair.

Jack reached for some water, provided to him by Kate. A sock was already wrapped around Sawyer's ankle in attempts to decrease the bleeding, but it wasn't doing its job.

"I didn't trip," Sawyer growled bitterly, "I fell."

Her arms crossed, Kate rolled her eyes above him, but Jack ignored the comment.

"Did he fall down a hill?" Jack inquired, quickly unwrapping the makeshift bandage.

"He tripped on a limb."

Surprisingly, Sayid seemed almost as amused by this as Kate, who was covering her mouth to keep hersefl from laughing; but Jack figured Sawyer probably gave him a hard time. Of anything, comic relief was what they needed. But when Jack saw the cut on Sawyer's ankle, he knew it was no laughing matter. The cut was deep, sputtering blood as he tried to stop it.

"It was a branch!" Sawyer argued defensivly.

"I'm sure it meant well," Kate said with a smile. Sawyer glared at her.

"Sorry if my safety wasn't on my mind," Sawyer expressed. He looked up at Jack impaciently. "Would you hurry it up? I've got places to be."

Jack took a good look at the cut, deciding in his mind what supplies he would need to tend to it.

"Sorry," Jack said, throwing the blood-coated sock on the ground, "you're not going anywhere."

Sawyer glared at him incredulously as Jack felt around the bones of Sawyer's ankle. Immediatly Sawyer gasped roughly in pain, swatting Jack's hand away.

"Does that hurt?" Jack asked, concerned.

"Yeah," Sawyer said, looking slightly sick.

"Yeah, you're not walking for a week," Jack told him, standing up.

Sawyer watched him, furious.

"You're kdding me, right?" He said, almost desperatly.

Jack shook his head.

"That's one helluva rip," he commented, as if it explained everything.

Groaning, Sawyer leaned his head back. The pain felt like it was delayed in hitting him, coming on all at once. After a moment he lifted his head back up, watching Jack carefully.

"I've got to get back out there!" Sawyer exclaimed. Each moment risked passing time, and Jack wasn't the only one that knew what crashed that plane, and the fury of it.

Sayid, who'd been listening thoughtfully, stepped up.

"I'll look for her," he volunteered, surprising even Jack.

"Sayid-"

Jack stopped. He could say what he did to Kate and she would listen, because she knew what they were risking, but it would be unfair to say that to Sayid. Truthfully he didn't want anyone out there, but he couldn't demand they stayed. Sayid, Jack was sure, was well aware of the risk he'd be taking going deep into the jungle.

"I'll go," Sayid said, finalizing the matter. He turned to Sawyer. "I'll find her."

Determined, Sayid set off towards the jungle without another word. Sawyer and Jack watched him, as if transfixed by his disapearing sillouhette.

"Remember when you were a kid," Sawyer said suddenly, "and your teacher wanted you to draw a picture of what you wanted to be when you were older?"

Jack stared at the ground thoughtfully, trying to remember what he drew. He did remember doing something like that, and Jack remembered going home and telling his father about it. Whatever he picked, his father laughed and said 'No son, you'll be a doctor'; and Christian would go on and on about how he'd take over his position, upholding their small family 'honor'. Even as a five year-old kid, that was the philosophy he was taught. Now the thought made him sick.

"Yeah," Jack finally replied.

"Mine wasn't of him."

Snorting, Jack greeted Kate as she brought him the medical supplies she volunteered to retrieve.

"Is he going to be okay?" Kate asked as Jack began uncapping a brown bottle.

Jack looked at her, slightly surprised. If Sawyer was as well, he didn't react, but stayed quiet, already lost in his own silence. His head was turned to the jungle, like he was trying to see straight through it.

"He'll be fine," Jack assured her. He planted a quick kiss on her lips. "I promise." She looked away as he turned back to Sawyer, warning him that, "This will sting."

(space)

"I heard Jack telling Kate not to go into the jungle," Sebastian noted as he sat down beside Michelle, who was sitting in the sand.

"Honestly," Michelle said, sitting up. Her wrist was now healed, and though she was grateful for Jack's help, there were a few things he believed that she was beginning to not agree with. "I don't think he had the right to do that." She shook her head. "I can't believe Kate just lets him overule her like that."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow.

"And what happened to the membership to the Jack fanclub?" He said sarcastically.

Rolling her eyes, Michelle handed Sebastian the glasses he was looking for. He put them on, squinting as his vision adjusted. Mutually they stared out at the sea. Briefly they'd lived in Florida, and other beach type areas that were busy nearly all year around, baring residence to everyone from tourist to a hungry seagull. What would Michelle give to see another seagull, or have to ask for the thousandth time directions to the interstate? She'd always had mixed feelings about living on a beach. In the open space she felt exposed, as if one could point her out like a pink shirt at a funeral. A city, however, provided her with hundreds of women who looked just like her. Everyday she'd be asked if she was a Shelly, Lauren, or Lindsey, and the idea of being mistaken for someone else made her feel that much safer.

"Maybe he's right," Sebastian said over their silence. Michelle looked at him, only slightly surprised. He always seemed to go against everything she said. "The jungle..we don't know what's in there. Jack's seen more than any of us. If he says it's dangerous, it's dangerous."

Michelle stared at him, mouth agape.

"Just because Jack's not going into the jungle doesn't mean I'm not," Michelle protested.

"Fine," Sebastian shrugged, "if you want to get eaten...it's your skin-" scowling at the comment, Michelle turned away, "I figured since you hero-worshiped him, you'd read his bible."

"Reading it doesn't mean worshiping it," Michelle said softly, "and...I like him and all, and I feel bad for him; it's just-" she shook his head, "he's different, somehow."

"Yeah," Sebastian said sarcastically, "he's seen over a dozen people being eaten. I'd imagine it'd change your faith."

Quiet, Michelle stared down at the sand below her. She hadn't mean to lash out, she just had a soft spot for women with overbearing husbands. It was a been there, done that, kind of thing. Then again, Jack wasn't Kate's husband, and Kate definetly possesed a good amount of independence. Michelle hadn't meant for that conversation to bother her so much, it was just a little close too home.

"I guess I'm just a little afraid," Michelle admited, whispering as if not wanting anyone but Sebastian to hear.

Everyone was trying to stay so strong during all of this, and it was just a matter of time before they reached their breaking point. Soon their emotions would come undone, and when that happened, the island would be nothing but complete chaos. Even more than it already was. When their heroes began to fumble, when their guides began to disapear, time drew on to teach them that this was no longer their fight. The fight was in every single one of them, and to have to pick up the pieces, to start over again, would take something that Michelle wasn't sure they were capable of. It had been Jack, after all, that set things straight that first week. Now it was almost like he'd given up. He was fighting to regain himself, but any therapist could see that Jack was afraid he was fighting a losing battle. Or at least a wavering one. Everytime things seemed to perk up, something else would bring him- them- down.

With Sebastian's arm around her, a shiver went up her spine, and she seemed to know what he was going to say before he said it:

"I am too."

(space)

"You don't have to stick around," Jack said, looking up at Kate, who had stuck by him for the last half hour as he took care of Sawyer's ankle. Now he was cleaning up, and he still was having to convince Sawyer the importance of not walking on that foot.

"I'm fine," Kate insisted and forced a smile, "someone's got to entertain him."

Just to spite them, Sawyer grinned wildly, stopped by a glarring Jack.

"Don't worry about me," Sawyer said sarcastically, as if welcoming the pity as he let his head roll to the side again, "I'm just..."

A sudden low rumble drew their attention to the jungle. Motion on the beach stopped at once- Claire passing Aaron to Charlie, Michelle and Sebastian getting to their feet, Hurley eating a mango; and everyone looked towards the jungle. There was another low rumble, and frightened whispers sparked amongst the camp.

"That was close," Jack commented, reading the other two's minds.

Trees shook, and a dejavu of their first week on the island swept through everyone's minds. Only now they were closer, and now they had more to lose. Just like that first week, the very first attack- though, thankfully, no one of knowledge was hurt- a roar echoed through the jungle, and people were running before a command had to be given. Both Jack and Kate grabbed for Sawyer, whose eyes met the jungle, flaring like he was staring at the devil. Already the beach was empty, and Jack got away with Sawyer without realizing Kate had fallen behind, suddenly tripping over her fast-pace footsteps. She cursed at her ungracefulness, and brushed her hair back as she looked for Jack. They were out of sight. She was left standing on the beach with only abandoned tents and campsites, including her own not far away. But the swaying of the trees told her the monster was headed their way anyway.

In her mind she told herself to run, to find Jack. She'd be safe there. Her feet faught the order, staying put, gluing themselves to the sand. At the protest her mind was suddenly blank, and it froze in shock. For a moment she saw a flashing white light, but after staring hard to the jungle, it disapeared. The noises stopped, leaving the beach deathly silent. Still she couldn't run. It was as though not only her mind, but her body as well, was frozen like stone. Maybe that was the monster's secret, Greek mythology. But even though she didn't seen anything, and all was quiet, she could sense something around her, like a shark searching through an abandoned ship. A feeling rushed through her like nothing she ever felt before, and suddenly she knew that this was what Alex experienced before she died. She swore to God she'd never tell Jack. Kate was terrified, and there wasn't anything she could do about it; but at the same time, she felt...satisfied. Like she was looking through the mirror of her life, and she felt good about it. It could all end right now, and it would be okay. Her life was staring her down, its eyes peering at her through the clearness of strength that surrounded her.

But she knew that couldn't be right. She wanted Jack...if she went on, she could never be with him, their baby would never be born. And she wasn't satisfied with what she was leaving behind. She'd never so desperatly wanted him to be there for her, to pull her out of this.

"Kate!"

Her heart lept at his voice. It was as though he read her thoughts. For a moment she felt guilty; he'd come back for her. What if he was just pulled into this as well? At least they'd died together then...

"Kate!"

Someone was tugging at her arm. The essence of the feeling around her dissolved immediatly, breaking into Jack's embrace as he held her close, as if trying to breathe in confirmation of her life. She felt a soft kiss being planted against her hair, reminding her that he was there. Still in shock, Kate hardly noticed when he pulled away. Just to think that she almost lost him...she could still feel it inside her.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked in his usual concerned tone. Studying her closely, Jack held her arms as he searched for an answer before she could speak. "Kate?"

He sounded petrified at her silence. She wanted to talk to him, tell him she was okay, but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out. And just to think, she didn't even see anything. Just the feeling of the experience...and there was nothing even there! Kate couldn't make sense of it. To ease her mind, she concentrated on trying to talk.

"I'm fine," she whispered, her voice coming out in a croak.

As the only thing she could think of to do, she pulled him back towards her, suddenly feeling that same need to know the other one's there. Holding him close, she tried to convince herself that she was okay now, that she was safe. But that was a lie. Even at the beach they weren't safe, and now they had nowhere else to go. Then again, if she was the only one that saw(or rather, didn't see), anything, then maybe no one could know...like a false alarm. Resting her head against Jack, she decided that was the best plan. The thought that their survival depended on a lie made her feel even unsafe than before, but she did her best to cover her fear as she finally let Jack free, breaking away from their embrace.

(space)

"So he comes in," Locke recited, hands waving towards the annexed room of the hatch, "she's tied up, and you tell him you're an Other. And he believes you?"

Boone shrugged.

"I don't think he was right in the head," Boone guessed, "if you know what I mean."

The three of them, Boone, Locke, and Rebecca, were sitting in the main room of the hatch. Boone had already talked through what happened, but Locke wanted to go through it on his own, the dead body of Daniel still laying on the ground. Beside him, sitting untied in the chair, Rebecca was making clear attempts to try not to look towards it. Against the wall, Callum had planted himself in a slouching position, resting his head against his chest with a hand on his bad leg.

"I hate to interrupt," Rebecca shivered a little as she spoke, her arms crossed over her chest in attempts to stay warm in the damp room. Boone and Locke were used to the hatch's unconvenient conditions, but as Rebecca looked around, it was obvious she still wasn't sure what to think or how to react. "But I'd really like to go back."

Locke looked up at her, as if realizing she was there for the first time.

"I'll take her back," Boone volunteered.

Even though Locke was there now, and the weight of the situation was off his shoulders, Boone still felt a little shaken. He wasn't used to being alone in any kind of combat like this, and though none of their own was critically hurt, it still felt like he failed miserably. Normally Boone prefered being in the hatch than the beach, to avoid questions and the simple embarrasment of being alone, but for the first time he needed to get away for awhile.

"Come on," he said to Rebecca.

Ignoring him, Rebecca remained near Locke, as if frozen. Boone realized that this could've been the most traumatic thing she'd experience since the crash, and she hardly knew him. She must've been so frightened...she would be for awhile.

"It's okay," he said soothingly, and reached out for her hand.

She stared at it, as if insulted by the offer. Instead of accepting she walked on herself, following Boone through the darkened hallway with its red lights and emergancy exit sign. Rebecca didn't ask, but Boone knew she had questions. Hell, he still had questions. He nearly sighed in relief when he reached the large exit door, hoping to himself that somehow it would be dark outside. He was ready for this day to end. As he turned the handle, Boone thought he'd dance in joy when the door was open, but instead of pushing open, the door remained cealed shut. Frustrated, Boone tried the handle a few more times, glancing back towards Rebecca sympathetically.

"Sorry, it usually doesn't..." Boone trailed off, despertatly trying to knock open the door. He tried throwing the weight of his body against the door, but it only caused an explosion of pain to his left side. Twice more he tried it, both times failing. "Locke?" He called to the back room. "The door's stuck!"

"I was just about to tell you the same thing," Locke said, appearing in the hallway. Callum was leaning painfully against the wall as Locke explained that the original hatch door was also sealed shut- as though it was never escavated.

Boone stared at him.

"That's impossible," he finally said, after a long moment of silence.

"You're talking about the impossible in here?" Callum called, amused, from his spot on the wall. "I'd get your beliefs straight, if I were you."

Flashing a smile, Callum let himself bathe in his moment before leaning his head back in pain. Boone looked to the door, as if trying to open it with his eyes. Rebecca watched him, horrified, eyes wide with swelling tears. Sighing, Boone began to get the feeling that he was alone in this again. He closed his eyes, and Shannon's face flashed before him in the darkness. Smiling. She hardly ever smiled at him. He wanted to stay in this dark place, but the familiar leaking pipe brought him back to reality. Feeling slightly more confident, Boone turned to them.

"What about Sayid?" Boone suggested hopefully.

"Not a chance, mate," Callum actually seemed to be enjoying himself, "this place is going into lockdown."

Rebecca glanced between the three of them.

"What does that mean?" She asked fearfully, desperatly searching them for answers.

Boone and Locke turned to Callum with the same question. Suddenly the man's cheerful demeanor was gone, and he was back to his alert, parinoid self.

"We're stuck here, mate."

The three of them exchanged glances, Rebecca looking like she'd burst into tears at any given moment. Boone felt horrible for her, and even Locke was starting to. He was just about to reassure her, tell her that they'd get out of this, when then the hatch gave a sudden violent shake. The four of them grabbed onto whatever wall they could find, Boone clutching Rebecca's arm protectivly. Locke held his own arm out over the two, as if shielding them from danger.

"What the hell was that?" Rebecca whispered, speaking their terrified thoughts.

With a long screetch of metal against metal, followed by a familiar clanging, at least the three of them almost expected the roar that came next.

Somehow, the monster was stuck in there with them.

Author's Note: Thanks so much for reviewing! You guys rock!

Coming up next, on "In the End":

Finding the necklace gives Charlie a new faith that he's not afraid to share with everyone, someone's secret is spilt, and someone comes back.

Thanks again!

Until next time..

October Sky