CHAPTER 5

When they got there Locke – to Jack's surprise – was in tears, but even more surprising was who was there comforting him… Sawyer. Sawyer was incredibly pale but there was a look of genuine concern in his eyes.

"What happened?" Jack asked him.

"I dunno." Sawyer responded. "I just woke up and he was wailing like some wounded animal. He kept on saying 'Why'?"

Jack looked around, suddenly realising that Charlie was gone. "Where's Charlie?" He asked.

"Claire took him" Sawyer explained. "She thought he would be more comfortable with her in her tent"

Suddenly Sawyer swayed, and Jack leaped to catch him before he fell.

"OK." Jack said. "Back to bed with you… Kate could you help him?" He asked her. "I want to talk to John."

"Sure." Kate replied. "Come on solider." She said, smiling as she supported Sawyer and together they made their way slowly back to the Southerner's sleeping quarters.

Jack just gave John a concerned but quizzical look, but Locke just glanced at him through pained eyes, a closed expression jupon his face, and Jack knew that he was not going to tell him anything.

"OK…" He said at last. "John you look exhausted, you need rest."

"Don't tell me what I need Jack…" Locke snapped.

Jack was silent for quite a long time. He didn't know how to respond to Locke's reaction… he didn't know how to comfort him.

Of all the survivors Locke was the last person Jack would have ever thought would find himself in need of comfort and reassurance – and never would he have thought that he would find himself in a position where he didn't know how to give it.

Jack was a doctor – a healer – and it was hard for him to sometimes have to admit that he didn't have all the answers – that he didn't always know how to help someone.

After a while he turned to face Locke, who was lying back down in his bed, staring off into space in deep contemplation – no change there then – Jack thought.

"I never asked you how it happened?" He frowned.

"How what happened?" Locke asked.

"Was it an accident?"

"More like a crime…" Locke explained. "Some jerk in a car"

"Oh God… I'm sorry." Jack responded, sincerely.

"Sure…" Locke replied – his tone initially seemed bitter – but then his demeanour changed. He sat up slowly and turned to face Jack. "Don't be…" he smiled, "wasn't your fault, nothing you can do. I never did understand people who apologised for things that they couldn't change. Especially when it wasn't their fault."

"I wasn't apologising for me, I meant it for you." Jack explained.

"I know." Locke nodded. "But there's nothing to be done about it, so there's little point in feeling sorry about something which can't be changed. It either leads to one person feeling sorry for another, which in turn causes that person to resent the fact that they know that they're pitied, or to feelings of sorrow for themselves. Its unproductive, and nothing good can come of it."

"Even so…"

"Jack…" Locke cut him short before Jack could finish what he had been about to say. "I used to feel bitter, of course. The taunting angered me the most, grown men acting as though they were still kids in the school playground. They hated me for the games I played, war games mostly, but what they didn't understand was that those games were the only way I could feel whole again… normal. I had dreams Jack, dreams which were taken from me the moment the nerves in my spinal cord were severed."

"Normal?"

"Like everybody else…" Locke faltered. "We all have limits Jack, boundaries set that we find that we cannot cross, no matter how hard we try. It's just that some people's limits are a lot more obvious than others."

Jack nodded in silent understanding.

"What was it in the end?" Jack asked.

"Partial nerve damage." Locke explained. "They operated, but the surgery was unsuccessful…"

"I could have helped you…" Jack sighed. "At the very least I would have liked to have tried… but here, without anaesthesia, without anti-septics, if anything else happens to you there would be nothing I could do."

"You couldn't help me Jack, not then and not now!" Locke said. "I wouldn't consent anyway. I've accepted my fate. I couldn't stand to have my hopes raised only to have them dashed all over again. The one good thing to come out of the crash was coming too on the beach and realising that I could feel my legs again after so many years – although I don't know why and I don't know how, so I don't know when it might all be taken away from me again."

Jack nodded. He could understand Locke's anxiety.

"Did you ever find out the name of your original surgeon?" Jack asked.

"His name was Christian Shepard." Locke said…