When Jack opened his eyes, he found himself staring at a wooden ceiling he didn't recognize. It was likely pine or alder by the way the rafters had turned a honey brown with age. He stared at them for a while, his eyes tracing patterns in knots curling across the slabs of timber.
He sighed and rolled half-way onto his stomach and felt the heavy quilts covering him shift with the movement. He vaguely considered how he ended up on the couch. It was well-worn and far more comfortable than he imagined. He let his body sink into it and wondered if he was having a vivid dream. If he was more awake, he would have marveled at how incredibly peaceful he felt. But the rational part of his mind was drowsy and pliable. The ambience made it easy for him to relax. The room was dark and pleasantly warm. Somewhere, off in the distance, he could hear a fire crackling, a soothing melody that was comforting and familiar from another time and place. It lulled him back to sleep. And, for once, Jack didn't fight it.
The next time Jack woke, it was the same way he had for years. He burst awake in the clutches of a dream already fading from memory. He sat up feeling jittery from the overload of adrenaline. He rubbed his face with both hands, trying to rouse his brain as his heart rate and breathing slowed. Something cold and heavy spread through his chest. It was making him feel unhinged and was a stark reminder why he didn't sleep. Even if he couldn't remember the dream, it still had a hold on him. Jack took a measured breath, feeling like his bones were drenched in ice - nightmare chill. Clonazepam would take the edge off. It was cheaper than Percocet and settled his nerves when he used Scotch as a chaser. The pills were in his coat pocket.
He stood slowly, trying to shake the tense, keyed-up feeling coiling in his muscles. His coat was on top of his briefcase and the pill bottle carefully stowed in the inner pocket. He shook a handful into his palm and dry swallowed them, wincing at the bitter taste the residue left on his tongue.
"How do you take your coffee, Jack?"
Jack coughed and almost jumped out of his skin. He whipped his neck around to see Sam watching him from the kitchen. He had a coffee mug in hand and yesterday's newspaper spread across the table.
"Sorry, Son. It's early. I didn't mean to wake you. I know you were up half the night checking on Katie." Sam tactfully deflected, but the look in his eyes hinted he had been observing Jack for a while.
"Black. Thank you," Jack mumbled and unconsciously ran his hand along the nape of his neck. A flush of embarrassment crept up his cheeks.
During the night, one of the pillows he had been using found its way to the floor. Jack picked it up and occupied himself with folding the quilts on the couch. It was an excuse to turn his back to Sam, who was retrieving another mug from the cupboard. He slipped the bottle back into his pocket when he was sure Kate's father wasn't looking.
Jack sighed, feeling awkward in the faded gray t-shirt and navy pajama bottoms Sam lent him. He glanced at the chair in the far corner and noticed a similar bundle. A black and red plaid shirt was folded on top of a pair of jeans, a white, crew-neck t-shirt and socks. A can of shaving cream, clippers, and razor were tactfully placed next to the items.
"Nobody's getting anywhere in this storm." Sam set Jack's mug of coffee down on the end table next to the lamp. He took a long sip from his own mug. "Blizzard warning is over, but the highway into the city is closed down until conditions improve."
Jack nodded. The far wall of the living room was mostly glass. On clear days, it provided a spectacular view of the Rockies. Today, all that could be seen was a whitewash of snow piled high against the window panes. It bathed the room in a cool, blue light, making Sam grimace. His back was still sore from last week's snowfall.
"It's going to take a while for them to open the highway." Sam didn't relish the thought of clearing his own driveway, but it was a part of mountain life. "Still waiting for the winds to drop off before I tackle that mess."
Jack reached for his own coffee, needing something to rinse the bitter taste out of his mouth. He gripped the handle of the mug and saw how badly his hands were shaking. He quickly set it down again before Sam noticed.
"Kate's due for more Tylenol. Her fever spiked again so gave I gave her a dose at 3 a.m. She settled down afterwards." He spoke in the calmest voice he could muster, but his mind was racing. He wasn't going anywhere until the roads cleared. What if Sam finds out about the pills? Did he see me with the bottle? How is Kate going to react to my being here? A feeling of dread washed over him.
Sam nodded, his blue eyes appraising Jack. He saw the tremor in the man's hands.
Jack busied himself with examining the bundle Sam laid out for him. It was more than clothes. It was an unspoken suggestion. Or command. Jack wasn't going to argue. He was anxious to escape the older man's scrutiny and needed time for the pills to kick in and suppress his anxiety.
"Do you mind if I clean up?" Jack scooped the items up.
"Not at all. Bathroom is the last door on the right." Sam watched Jack retreat, his shoulders slumped. He could tell the man was in a hurry to get away and knew it was more than the "meeting-the-father-of-your-ex" jitters. He fully expected Jack to "clean up" properly and stop hiding behind the beard and hair while under his roof. He was curious and wanted to get to know Aaron's dad better. He sipped his coffee and returned to his paper.
Aaron woke with a start. He sat up quickly and saw the frost covering the window panes, obscuring his view of the outdoors. They were at the cabin! He smiled, clambered out of bed and raced down the hall in his pajamas and socks. His grandpa sat at the kitchen table, grinning as he came into view.
"Grandpa!" Aaron launched himself into Sam's open arms. Sam had to brace himself slightly for the impact, despite being strong and in good shape for his age.
"Good morning, Scout! How's my favorite grandson?" Sam looked mischevious as he ruffled Aaron's frowzy, blonde hair.
"I'm your only grandson." Aaron pronounced, used to the familiar exchange.
"Well, how do you know that?" Sam asked as he stood. He put his hands on his hips and leaned over a bit as Aaron looked up.
"Because Mom's your only kid. Just like I'm her only kid." Aaron sat down at the table and watched as Sam went to the stove where breakfast items were laid out.
Sam leaned casually against the counter after turning on the burners, waiting for the pans to heat up. "Can't beat that logic. After your mom was born, I figured, why mess with perfection? She's exactly what I wanted. You want your eggs scrambled?"
"Yes, Grandpa." He sat patiently for the moment, still waking up. Sam set a glass of orange juice in front of him as Aaron stretched and yawned. "Does Mom feel the same about me?"
Sam frowned in concentration, considering before answering. "Well …. Could be. But your mom is still young enough to give you a brother or sister. If she does, maybe it's because you make her so happy, she wants another just like you." Sam shrugged and wiggled his eyebrows, making Aaron giggle.
Aaron suddenly froze and looked around. "Jack!" He stood up and saw the blankets folded and piled neatly on the couch. He felt frantic until he saw Jack's suit coat and briefcase on the chair. "Where is he, Grandpa?"
Sam saw the panic on Aaron's face before he figured out Jack was still there. It tugged at his old heart. The boy wanted his father. It only intensified Sam's need to know Jack better.
"He's taking a shower. He'll join us when he's done." Sam scrambled eggs and tossed some bacon into a grill pan on another burner. "Do you like your bacon crispy or burned?" He teased.
"Crispy, please." Aaron grinned, his white teeth showing. He tiptoed over to the bedroom door adjacent to the living room and slipped in when Sam's back was turned. Aaron approached the bed slowly. His mom was asleep. Her cheeks were pink and face was white. He bit his lip, wanting to crawl in bed and curl up with her, the same way she did when he was sick or felt afraid. But he was 10 years old now.
He felt a strong hand on his shoulder. Sam put his finger to his lips and motioned for Aaron to follow him. They returned to the kitchen. Aaron's face fell slightly. "Is she still sick?"
"Yes. She needs her rest. And we don't want you to get sick. Understand?" Sam was on one knee when he spoke so he was face to face with Aaron. Aaron nodded solemnly until Sam poked his belly. He briefly erupted into giggles and squirmed. "Good. Now let's fill that stomach of yours. We have plenty to do today."
Jack felt better after his shower. His hands stopped shaking. The hefty dose of Clonazepam blunted his anxiety, leaving him calm and somewhat numb. He knew he'd have to ration what was left of his supply, embarrassed he needed to use it all. The last thing he wanted was to have a seizure in Sam's goddamn living room because he managed to put himself into alcohol withdrawal. The Clonazepam lowered his risk. He had been taking it for so long he was still reasonably functional when he was sober.
Jack dressed in the jeans and flannel shirt, trying to push his problems to the back of his mind. It would only be another day or two. Then he wouldn't have to worry about what anyone else thought of him. Kate and Aaron didn't need to be around an addict.
He shuffled in front of the mirror, peering at his face for the first time in a long time. He used his bathroom mirror to brush his teeth, but tried to avoid examining his reflection. He was ashamed. The beard made him look old. It was a combination of dark hair flecked with streaks of grey. And his hair was overgrown. He put the wastebasket in the sink before plugging in the clippers to trim it down. As the facial hair fell into the basket, he began to see patches of pale, white skin. He would finish it with the razor.
He snapped a #4 guard on the clippers after deciding to buzz his hair. He put his chin on his chest as he ran it over the back of his head in even strokes, hopefully getting it all.
Fifteen minutes later, he was staring at the mirror. He looked more like himself but different at the same time. His face was leaner and eyes had shadows under them. He ran his hand over his head again to make sure he didn't miss anything. The bristles felt good under his fingertips. He examined the mess he made and immediately began to clean it up. To his relief, there were cleaning products under the sink. He saw how neat the cabin was and knew Sam was in the army his entire career.
It was spotless in the nick of time.
There was a knock on the door. "Jack?" It was Aaron.
Jack was deep in thought, staring at his reflection again. He could almost see the man he used to be. And it took him by surprise.
"Jack?" His voice had an edge of desperation.
Jack swung the door open, worried something was wrong with Kate. Instead, he saw Aaron hopping from one foot to another, a big smile on his face.
Aaron tackled Jack and hugged him around the waist before rushing past. "I gotta pee!"
Jack sat next to Kate on the bed, noting she barely moved since the last time he checked on her. She was laying on her side, curled up in a ball and still feverish. He coaxed her into take two more Tylenol and drinking water to wash it down by whispering words of encouragement. She opened her bloodshot eyes briefly but didn't seem to recognize him.
He sighed and covered her with a heavy quilt. Her fever wasn't as high as the previous evening, but it hadn't broken. He wasn't used to seeing her so helpless. It was usually Kate taking care of everyone else. Even him in the past. He had no idea how she would react to his being there. If she was mad at him, he would take it. He deserved her wrath and more. But it was also worth the risk to be able to help her for once.
Jack hung his head and left the room. He was ready to admit how much he missed her.
Sam was cleaning up the pans in the kitchen. A plate was on the table loaded with eggs and bacon adjacent to a fresh cup of black coffee. Aaron was waiting for him, barely able to hold still. He wrapped his arms around Jack's waist again. "Is Mom okay?"
Jack tentatively touched Aaron's hair before smoothing it back, noticing it was now neatly combed. "She will be. We need to let her sleep."
Sam intervened. "Hey, Scout. He needs to eat some breakfast. Help yourself, Jack." He didn't say anything about Jack's clean-cut appearance but approved. It made him looked at least ten years younger.
Jack sat, feeling awkward. He couldn't remember the last time he ate breakfast, let alone someone making it for him. It was before he left Kate. But breakfast in bed had always been his job and pleasure to serve.
He ate and was surprised at his own appetite. He enjoyed the coffee and noticed Aaron sitting quietly while beaming at him. "You look happy. Did Santa come already?"
Aaron smiled wider but didn't reveal his secret. "It isn't Christmas yet." He watched as his grandpa topped off Jack's coffee and sat down with a cup of his own. "There's a lot of snow here. Grandpa has sleds and a four-wheeler. He also has shovels, a snow blower and man jobs for us to do."
His last comment forced a chuckle out of Jack. "Don't let your Mom here the word 'man jobs,' Aaron. She's more capable and tougher than most grown men." Aaron's eyes grew big. "Ever see her climb a tree?" Aaron shook his head slightly, his mouth agape.
Jack heard Sam laugh softly. "I thought she grew out of that."
Jack shook his head as he took another bite, chewing and swallowing before answering. "On the island…" Jack stopped suddenly, wishing he could retract the last three words. He couldn't let his guard down and contradict The Lie.
Sam saw Jack freeze and heard him suck in his breath. He knew they had been to hell and back when stranded out there. Katie never spoke of it, the hardships or giving birth on the island. And she never made Sam feel guilty for not meeting her at the tarmac when she arrived. He was unreachable at the time: on a mission with his troop in the mountains of Afghanistan. He knew they experienced trauma, but didn't know how it affected Jack.
The silence left Aaron with a slew of questions.
"Your mom learned how to climb when she was smaller than you, Scout." Sam spoke up to take the pressure off of Jack. Sam saw Jack's shoulders slump in relief. "I used to call her 'Katydid' after the bug. Have you ever seen one?"
Aaron shook his head. His attention was captivated.
"She was a tiny girl, but strong and could climb like a monkey. She wanted to wear camouflage like me when we went hiking and tracking animals. Katie could climb trees fast and disappear in the leaves. A katydid is a green bug that looks just like a leaf when it holds still. It's a disguise so birds don't eat them."
Sam stood and asked Aaron to go brush his teeth. He shook his head as he watched his grandson race out of the room. "Just like his mom. Only one speed as a child: Fast."
Jack smiled at the comment and story about Kate, grateful Sam took over the conversation.
"Come on." Sam clapped Jack on the shoulder and was surprised when the man jumped. He didn't lift his hand until Jack relaxed.
Jack wasn't used to regular human contact. It had been years since anyone had been close to him.
Sam spoke calmly to him, the same way he would to a skittish horse. "I need your help with something."
Jack found himself following Sam down the makeshift footpath to the shed behind the cabin. Sam gave Aaron the task of clearing the front steps, which Aaron tackled with enthusiasm. It was his first time shoveling snow. He was eager to start his first "man job."
Jack lingered in the doorway, keeping his hands in his pockets to keep them warm. He felt like an intruder, watching as Sam poured gasoline into his snow blower.
The shed was chilly but had a clean, wooden tool bench with tools hanging from a peg board on the wall. The brisk weather muted the scents embedded in the structure. Decades of oil, gas, grease. Jack could tell where Sam had organized it with military precision and areas waiting for his touch from the stark contrast.
Sam left the door open so that the light spilled in. He had to dig his way through the snow earlier to reach it. Jack could see where the wood left drag marks under his feet.
He glanced at Jack, who shivered. "When's the last time you were in the mountains, Jack?" His tone was even and almost friendly.
Jack had to think. The last seven years were blur of pills and booze. He looked down, trying to remember. He kicked some snow with the boots he borrowed from Sam. "Lake Tahoe. My Dad had a cabin." He paused and drew in the clean, crisp air. "We used to go every summer when I was a kid and in the winter to ski."
Sam nodded appreciatively. "Must have been nice. Does he still own it?"
Jack tried to remember the trips when he was little. He fished in Lake Tahoe or rafted on the Truckee River. In the winter, he played in the snow with kids from the cabin next door. An instructor taught him to ski at Squaw Creek Resort, the slopes closest to the family cabin. He didn't recall spending much time with his parents except at mealtime. When he got older, he usually brought Marc or another friend. The teens did their best to escape his dad's scrutiny and blow off steam. His dad started ratcheting up the pressure on Jack with his grades and study habits during middle school.
"No. He died. I let a property rental company manage it. I haven't been there in years." Jack let out a self-deprecating laugh while looking at the ground. There was no point, he thought morosely. For the longest time, he dreamed of surprising Kate with a weekend getaway but never managed to make it happen. Going up there now would only amplify his loneliness. It was meant for a family to enjoy … His family. The one he lost.
"Sorry to hear about your dad. Here. Untangle this for me." He tossed him a fifty-foot extension cord. "I haven't gotten around to coiling it properly yet." Sam went back to examining the snow blower before he resumed talking. "I moved around and was stationed at different military bases. Katie was a military brat until she was five. Her Ma put her foot down then and insisted on going home, back to Iowa."
He paused and cleared his throat. "I picked Katie up whenever I was on leave or stationed in the states. Would take her hiking, fishing, hunting. She loved it but refused to eat anything we caught. She always tossed the fish she caught back into the water. Even tossed mine back when I wasn't looking." He shook his head and smiled fondly at the memory.
Jack began to work on the knots and kinks. "Kate's skills and courage were a big reason why I … we survived. She helped anyone in need." His voice dropped slightly and had an edge of disapproval. "Even if it meant putting herself at risk."
Sam head turned. He took in Jack's expression, the frown and lips pressed together in disapproval, and let out a guffaw. "Yeah. That sounds like my girl. She's stubborn. You can't tell her no when she has her mind set on something." He took in a deep breath and stopped a moment, thanking his lucky stars she and his grandson survived.
Katie never told him why they broke off the engagement. She didn't have a bad thing to say about Jack. Jack seemed nervous around him, like a high school kid, but he didn't mind keeping the man on his toes until he got a better feel for him. Jack reminded Sam of men he served with who came down with PTSD. It was hard losing a soldier in your company, troop or platoon. A friend, a brother-in-arms, a soldier following your orders ... Death weighed on the soldiers and commanding officers.
He didn't like sticking his nose in people's business but felt compelled to say something. "I imagine it was hard to losing the other survivors on the island."
Jack's head swiveled suddenly towards him with a look of shock. How does he know? Everyone on the island, dead or alive, came to mind. It wasn't until he met Sam's eyes he understood the referral to The Lie. The loss of Boone, Charlie and Libby. He was speechless.
Sam saw how he reacted. He reached down to grease the belt before locking eyes with him again. "Also with your line of work as surgeon. It must take its toll, losing people you feel responsible for. I understand. I've lost men who were following my orders, and before that, friends who fought by my side." He was steady as he spoke. "Some of the strongest soldiers I've known … it got to them. The guilt. They got caught in a mental loop, replaying the battles and horror in their minds. Some turned into shells of themselves, their minds stuck in the past, thinking it was their fault." He shook his head. "I don't judge them. Or anyone else who needs help letting go of the past and pain. The way I got through it was moving forward. The best way to honor the fallen is to live. Not just exist. You need hope, goals, something to live for and look forward to. I had Katie. She was my good luck charm. I carried a picture of her in my pocket at all times when deployed, even during battle."
Jack listened, but his fingers slowed down as he straightened out the cord. He let out a puff of air, visible in the cold. Words were drawn out of his conscience by the older man. Words rooted deeply in his brain like weeds. "No medical facilities. No equipment to treat them with. I should have saved them. It's my fault."
Sam nodded in understanding. "It's not your fault, Jack. It was their time to go. You have to honor that. It was out of your control. And if you don't mind me saying, you are focused on the wrong thing."
Jack lifted a brow, wondering what Sam meant.
"Six of you did survive the impossible including a newborn baby." Sam took off his cap with wool lining, and ran his hand over his buzzed, white hair before replacing it. "Do you believe in a higher power, Jack?"
Jack was reeling. He hadn't conversed like this with anyone for a long time. "I don't know. My parents went to church on Christmas Eve when I was young, but…" He shrugged.
"I do. Not a church-goer myself either, except when Katie was little. I took her to Sunday school and Mass. This could be coincidence, but something tells me it isn't. The craziest thing happened when the six of you showed up. It was a miracle. 108 days missing and there you all were." He leaned back slightly on the workbench. "I was in the middle-east when I got the news. I'm not ashamed to say I cried. I got my daughter back, a second chance with her and a fine grandson to boot. But the kicker is, of all the people on the planet, one of the other survivors is someone I came across when deployed. Katie was a teenager at the time. What are the odds he would survive out of 324 passengers? Or even be on the same plane?" He looked off into the vast, white landscape outside. It was broken only by patches of blue sky above and pine trees poking out of the deep drifts of snow.
Jack knew who it was. "Sayid. He was a valuable member of our group."
Sam turned to him with an unwavering stare. "This is classified information, Jack. I'm going to have to kill you after this conversation."
Jack froze, unsure if Sam was serious. Hell, they were in the middle of nowhere. Who would know?
Sam began to laugh. "Lighten up, Son. I'm only pulling your leg. I don't know what I'm trying to say. Just that I'm grateful for second chances. And don't want to waste the time I have left, especially dwelling on the past. I don't think any of this is coincidence. What were the odds you would be on the exact same plane from L.A. to Calgary when Katie needed you?" He fixed Jack with a long, meaningful stare before smiling and adjusting his cap. "I'll take the cord now." Jack looked down and saw it was untangled. He quickly handed it over. "Do you know how to split wood?"
Jack found himself grinning. "Actually, I do."
"A city boy who chops wood?" He whistled through his teeth. "Now I've heard everything. You surprise me, Jack." Sam said with approval. He pointed. "Axe is on the hook and the wood pile and block are around the corner of the shed. Work gloves are here if you need them." He tossed Jack a pair with traction on the palms.
Jack strode out with the axe, found the block and was soon hewing away. Sam's approval ignited something in his chest. His mind percolated. He replayed their conversation in his head. Moving forward. Living. Second chances. Sayid and Calgary. No coincidences. The words played through his head as he drew the axe back and brought it down, slicing cleanly through the wood.
An old memory surfaced. John Locke. He said they were brought to the island for a reason. Jack argued with him but Locke's believed in fate. Was it fate that transferred him to the Calgary flight? He tried to wrap his head around the concept as he balanced another log and drove the axe blade through it. His back, arm and abdominal muscles were beginning to burn.
Jack had wasted so much time since he and Kate separated. It didn't do him any good. It wasn't good for any of them. He couldn't move on. She obviously didn't either. And the pain… Instead of dealing with it and letting go, Jack did whatever he could to escape it. He brought the axe down hard in frustration, watching the wood splinter off the block. He loaded another piece after pausing to examine it. It felt good to be doing something with his hands.
Aaron finished shoveling the steps and held the shovel. The handle was only a few inches shorter than him. He was warm but his cheeks were slightly chilled and rosy and he could see his breath. He blew out a big puff, pretending he was a dragon and tried to blow smoke rings to no avail.
When he was finished, he stomped through the snow and dragged the shovel behind him, making his way to the shed. He heard chopping sounds and picked up speed, the shovel bouncing on the uneven snow behind him.
He made a beeline for the shed. His grandpa was inside working on the snow blower. Aaron dropped off the shovel by the door and hopped one step at a time in the large, deep boot prints in the snow. They led him to Jack.
Aaron stopped and kept his distance, watching as Jack place a piece of wood on leveled stump. He swung the axe high and hard, coming down and splitting it down the middle. Jack grunted from the effort and took the two pieces, tossing them into the growing pile. Aaron was impressed.
Jack saw him. Two blue, wide eyes met his. Aaron's mouth was in an "Oh" shape. Jack stood up straight and arched his back slightly to stretch it while leaning on the axe handle.
"Can I help?" Aaron imagined himself chopping wood. He had never seen anyone do it in person and wanted to try.
Jack raised a brow. "Not until you're older." He reached over and grabbed another piece of cut wood to split. "Stay there, Aaron. I don't want you getting hurt."
Aaron's face fell, but he perked up as he watched Jack split wood. Jack fell into an easy rhythm again. The pile grew even larger.
Jack broke out in a mild sweat from the exertion. He wiped his forehead and adjusted his woolen hat. "You all done with your chores?"
Aaron nodded. "Yes."
"Let's find out where your grandpa wants this wood and you can help me stack it."
Aaron's heart leapt at the prospect of doing something with Jack. He raced around the corner and grabbed the snow shovel as his grandpa turned to see him. "What's the hurry, Scout?"
"I'm done with the steps, Grandpa. Jack said I can help him stack wood if you tell him where to put it."
Sam saw the eager look on his grandson's face. He was brimming with excitement. "I'm sure you'll be a big help. Firewood rack is on the porch under the brown tarp." Aaron turned to run back. Sam called out to him. "Put the shovel back in its place first. We clean up our tools when we're done with a job."
Aaron swiveled and ran, hanging it on a hook on the wall before flashing Sam a smile and sprinting around the corner. Sam shook his head and laughed to himself. "One speed only."
The sun was low in the sky by the time Sam had managed to clear the driveway for a second time in less than a week. As much as he enjoyed his time in the mountains, his age was catching up with him and his back ached from the exertion. He wheeled the snow blower back into the shed and secured the heavy wooden door with its padlock. The sky had changed from gray to bright blue, but the wind was cold. The fading light glinted off the icy tree branches.
Sam rubbed his hands together, trudging a trail back to the front porch. He needed to check on Katie and put on a pot of soup for supper. If she was alert enough, he could try to feed her some broth. And he had fresh bread from the bakery in town. Banff was a good twenty-minute drive from the highway, but was a tourist town and well-stocked.
"Oh, come on, Jack! You must have built one before." He heard Aaron call out as he rounded the corner. He hadn't seen much of his grandson since he had scampered off to help Jack stack wood.
"How many snowmen have you built in California?" Jack's tone was amused. Sam paused while watching them stand in the middle of what used to be his lawn.
Aaron shrugged his shoulders and scooped a pile of snow into his arms. "Let's try it."
Jack froze, painfully aware of the look of expectation in Aaron's eyes. It was a reminder of all the things he had walked away from. If Aaron knew he was the reason his biological mother didn't make it off the island, same as the other survivors, he was sure the boy would hate him. She vanished. Then the island disappeared. Aaron had no idea how hard he tried to get back, but he failed.
Jack thought of the desperate nights he wound up in a drunken stupor and begged Kate to meet him at the airport. Day after day he forced her to watch him deteriorate into a shadow of himself. The man who was her friend, lover, fiancé and father-figure to Aaron slowly retreated into a shell until he wasn't recognizable. He dug a hole so deep he couldn't get out of it and lost the will to try. He followed in his father's footsteps: Broken, hopeless and waiting for the inevitable.
Something hard and cold hit Jack in the face and spattered. It startled him. When he surveyed the yard, he spotted his assailant.
Aaron shifted nervously from foot to foot. His boots made a crunching sound in the snow.
Jack's expression was unreadable. Aaron's smile faded under Jack's intense stare as he wiped snow off his face. Aaron shut his eyes, bracing himself for Jack to scold him. When no reprimand came, he opened them.
Jack had crouched and scooped up a handful of snow. Aaron grinned, ducking as the man launched the ball at him.
"You missed!" Aaron exclaimed He had played enough Call of Duty with Spencer to know how to dodge an attack. He heard Jack laugh briefly as he formed a snowball of his own. The heat from his hands caused the outer layer to crust as he held it while retreating. He took off, trying to put as much distance between himself and Jack as possible. The snow was deep and he wasn't used to the way his boots sank in the heavy drift. It slowed him down enough for Jack to land one between his shoulder blades.
"I missed? I don't think so." Jack gauged Aaron's reaction to getting pasted in the back. Aaron took advantage of Jack's lack of movement, sending his snowball sailing in a wide arc that soared over Jack's head. He brought his hand to his brow to shield his eyes from the last of the sunlight as he watched the snowball crash against the side of a tree.
"That's quite a pitching arm you got there." Jack clapped his gloved hands few times in appreciation. He could tell Aaron wanted to play and finally caved in. "Want to have a throwing contest? We can use the tree as a target."
Aaron jumped up and down at the prospect and pumped his fist. "Yeah! Let's make a pile of snowballs first!"
Jack took long strides over to join Aaron, squatting while showing him how to make baseball-sized snowballs with an outer crust of ice. The snow was still powdery and didn't stick as well without a little ingenuity.
Sam smirked and shook his head. Jack seemed like a good guy. It reenforced bringing him home was the right thing to do, especially for Aaron. He only hoped his daughter would feel the same. He slipped inside the cabin without them noticing.
Kate felt damp and sticky. She was resting, but where? Her eyelids were heavy. She struggled to open them. She saw a splash of green and she groaned. She was in the spot where she and Jack first kissed. She didn't know how she ended up sleeping there instead of her tent. The place served as a reminder of how the kiss ended. She ran, not feeling good enough for Jack at the time. Past and present were stalled in her brain as she tried to wake up, wondering if he'd know she was there. He was so good at reading her. She didn't credit his tracking skills as the reason he found her. It was something else. Like he was drawn there. She half-smiled, thinking how different things would be if he found her this time.
Kate eventually stopped struggling. Her thoughts slowed down as she drifted back into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Something cool rested on her forehead. Kate felt it as she tried to wake again. Had it been hours? Days? She had a pulsating headache emanating from the back of her skull. Her mouth was dry as if it was stuffed with cotton. Kate struggled harder to wake and managed to roll on her side. The wet cloth on her forehead slid off. Her eyes popped open.
Where the hell was she?
The room was dimly lit but her eyes adjusted. It was small and contained a wood dresser. It appeared to be the same shade of pine as the paneling on the wall. She spotted her suitcase, propped against the night table beside the bed.
Kate covered her eyes briefly with her fingertips, massaging them with the lightest touch. Something tickled the recesses of her memory, but the pieces were fragmented. She was on the plane with Aaron. They were flying to visit her dad's cabin for Christmas.
Laughter reached her ear. Muted voices conversed with pauses in between.
She sat up slowly. Her pajamas clung to her skin, drenched with patches of sweat. She felt dizzy. Grey spots danced before her eyes. She dragged her legs and dangled them over the side of the bed. When she slid off, her bare feet landed on a plush rug. The room tilted slightly. Her legs felt like jello, but it didn't stop her. She leaned heavily against the bed with one hand and made her way to the wedge of light slipping through the cracked door. Her steps were small. She couldn't remember feeling so weak. She grabbed the doorknob and opened it slowly.
Kate was relieved to see her dad in the kitchen. He was focused on stirring a large pot on the stove and didn't notice her.
Another burst of soft laughter distracted her. She clung to the door frame weakly. It was coming from living room, past the back of the couch. She could barely see the top of two heads illuminated by the flames in the fireplace and recognized Aaron's voice when he spoke.
"Your turn! They don't make us memorize that stuff. And at school, they don't say 'Christmas' either. They say 'Winter Holiday.'"
There was a pause before a deep voice answered. "So that's your excuse for not knowing the names Santa's reindeer? Their names are at the beginning of the 'Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer' song."
"No, they aren't! I know that one!"
"Yes, they are. Haven't you seen Rudolph on t.v.? The one with the animated figures? It was my favorite Christmas show when I was a boy. The snowman with the green vest and hat sings it."
Aaron huffed in response. "That show is for babies. I'm big now." There was a familiar tapping noise followed by the clinking of hard plastic. "Ha! I took two of your pieces, Jack. King me!" Two small hands shot up in the air to celebrate his victory.
Kate gasped when she heard his name. It felt like water was coursing through her veins. She bent over and braced her hands on her knees to stave off dizziness and coughed. What she didn't see was Aaron and Jack jumping to their feet. A utensil clattered on the stove. Sam was instantly by her side, bent over while trying to push the hair out of her face.
"Katie! You shouldn't be out of bed." He stood up with a grimace and pulled her into his embrace. Kate's small frame was engulfed in his arms. He pulled back slightly to examine her face. "Do you know where you are, honey?"
Kate's eyes were wide. She nodded slowly before trying to speak. "What happened?" Her voice was hoarse and registered barely above a whisper.
Sam's brows knitted together as he took in her appearance. She was exhausted and drenched. Even her hair felt damp. Her head turned towards the footsteps racing over.
"Mom! You're awake! Are you feeling better?" Aaron wanted to throw his arms around her but was restrained by Jack's hand sliding around his chest.
"Hang on, buddy. You're a strong guy and need to be gentle with her." Jack turned his attention from Aaron to Kate. He felt nervous about how she was going to react to his being there. Her green eyes were lucid, but she stared at him as if he was a ghost. From what he could see, the fever had broken but she wasn't steady on her feet. Aaron walked over and hugged her. She patted his back languidly.
It dawned on Kate she was at her dad's cabin. But Jack…? What is he doing here? He was sober, groomed and wearing a flannel shirt and jeans. The beard and thick, uneven hair he sported for years was gone. She was looking at her Jack. She closed her eyes and slowly opened them, expecting him to disappear or have the disheveled appearance again. The shock of his presence coupled with weakness delayed any emotional response.
"Mom, it's us." Aaron backed up and slipped his hand into Jack's large one. He tipped his head back to look at him. "Is she still sick? Does she still think we're on Mars with a smoke monster?"
Jack didn't want to overstep any boundaries but could see she was faltering. "Your dad's right. You should be in bed." He didn't want Sam to strain his back. He noticed Sam was favoring it after he and Aaron returned to the cabin, but the man refused to talk about it. And he waved off Jack's attempt to help prepare dinner.
Kate didn't respond. Instead, she bit the side of her lip. She was beginning to question her sanity.
"May I?" Jack asked both Sam and Kate indicating his head towards her.
Sam didn't hesitate. He gave Jack the nod. Within seconds, Kate was cradled in Jack's arms and quickly placed back in bed. Her lack of resistance or words, claiming she was "fine," spoke volumes. She was barely out of the woods. He grabbed a few pillows to prop her upright and turned on the bedside lamp. Jack felt her forehead. It was cool. He snared the blankets and covered her before backing away and leaving the room. Her eyes trailed after him before settling on Sam. He sat down next to her.
"You had me worried, Katie. You've been running a high fever." He took both hands and squeezed her shoulders gently before feeling her forehead with the back of his hand, same as Jack. She gave him a puzzled look. She rubbed her eyes and grimaced, her head pounding.
"Jack?" She whispered, wanting to know how he got there.
He reappeared with a glass of water, as if on cue. She saw Aaron on his heels, as if he was tethered to Jack. She didn't know how she felt about Jack's presence. But he wasn't himself, the self-destructing Jack. This wasn't the man who gouged a hole in her chest when he left, leaving nothing but a jagged, gaping space. Or was he?
The glass was at her lips. She sipped slowly. Sam's blue eyes searched hers, still worried. She stopped and let the cool water dampen her mouth before swallowing again.
Jack felt uneasy. He wasn't sure if she was oriented. If she was, would she give him the cold shoulder? Tell him to leave? He deserved it but his gut told him she wouldn't. As long as she didn't know about the pills. Guilt started to gnaw at him. Part of him wanted to escape to the other room. But the other part wanted to stay. To top it off, Aaron had wrapped his arms around his waist. Jack didn't realize it, but he was patting Aaron's back absentmindedly.
Kate watched them both in astonishment.
"I'll give you two some privacy." Jack said quietly. He could see the questions in Kate's eyes. Questions Sam should answer.
Aaron's grip on him tightened. He pressed his forehead into Jack's side. "No! What if she starts seeing things again, Jack?" He grabbed two fists full of the bottom of Jack's shirt. "You gotta make her better." His eyes welled up, pleading with him to do something.
"She's getting better, Aaron. Her fever's gone. We need to give her privacy in case she wants to change or go to the bathroom."
Aaron blanched. He knew about females and privacy. That's why he avoided his mom's bathroom cabinets. There were lady products there; pads and boxes of things he didn't want to touch or see. He scrunched up his face briefly, still clinging to Jack.
"Let's go stir the soup your grandpa is making and finish our game. I'm looking forward to winning this time." Jack felt Aaron's grip relax before releasing him.
"Okay, but you're getting pwned. I already have three kings." Aaron gloated.
"Pwned?" Jack raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah. 'Pwn' means I'm kicking your butt." Aaron gave him a cheeky grin. He went to his mom first and felt her forehead with the back of his hand, same as Jack and Sam, before kissing her gently on the cheek. "I'll be in the other room if you need my help, Mom." He was so earnest and sweet, Kate felt like her heart was going to burst. She and Jack locked eyes. He gave her a small smile and followed Aaron out.
Her head was reeling. Jack was talking and playing with Aaron. Jack was … Jack. She winced and rubbed her temples. It was like seeing someone raised from the dead.
"Headache?" Sam recognized the gestures. She still didn't react to Jack's being there. If anything, she looked bewildered.
Kate nodded. He took two Tylenol from the bottle on the nightstand and handed them to her with the glass of water. She let them rest on her tongue a second before washing them down. "Dad. What happened?" She repeated her question with a raspy voice. "Jack…?"
His eyes observed her carefully as he stood. "Let me get you some soup first. If you eat ... I'll explain."
Kate assented with a brief nod and watched him leave the room. She laid back and looked at the ceiling before closing her eyes. Is this another dream? If so, she wasn't sure if she wanted to wake up.