When Jack woke up his head was throbbing painfully. He had the worst hang over of his god given life. He had a bad pounding behind his eyes. He didn't even want to open them. He probably shouldn't. He was lying, still dressed on his couch. He felt sweat drip on his forehead. He groaned and rolled over and squinted his watery eyes down. There was black scrawling on his arm. He allowed his eyes to stay open long enough to focus on it. It was a number, and message to call Jessica, and Kate. Jessica? Kate? Kate his Kate or a different Kate. He wasn't sure. He could barely remember the night before he was so wasted. He hadn't been so wasted before in his life. Why was he so wasted? He couldn't remember. Oh yeah. Marc.

That day Jack had been thoroughly depressed and this was before his daily dosage of his dad. Marc had asked why, clearly worried for his poor friend. Marc had taken Jack out...and he...oh right. Jack had spewed his love for Kate to Marc like Jack felt he could spew vomit all over his floor at the moment. Then Marc had taken him out for drinks, man to man time. And everything after that wasn't even a blur. It was blank.

And now he had some woman's arm on his number. He didn't want to call her. Not now, not ever. Instead he pushed himself up, and felt wobbly, so he sat back down. For a few moments he sat there, then pushed himself up and went to get some coffee. He went into the kitchen and was thankful that the filter was already in. He clicked the strong button and then the start button and padded his way into the bedroom. He pulled off all his clothing and then washed his face, naked. He considered a shower and then hoped in. It was refreshing, but torture at the same time. He got out and opened a window, but kept the blinds shut. He wanted some fresh air, not blinding sun which would only make his head hammering headache hurt worse. Then he pulled on new clothing, boxers, comfy pyjama pants and an oversized comfy shirt. He went back into the kitchen and poured himself some coffee and sat down, reaching for his home phone and he called Kate's number.

"Hello?" Her voice came, happy and perky.

"Hey." Jack groaned.

"Are you okay?" Kate asked, suddenly very, very unhappy.

"I've been better." Jack mumbled, putting his head in his hands.

"What's wrong?" She sounded concerned, but Jack could hear the anger bubbling in her voice. He knew it well after years and years of friendship.

"I am so hung over." Jack lowered his head onto the table. The cold table felt so nice against his hot sweaty skin.

"Oh." Kate deadpanned.

"My arm..." Jack trailed off. "My arm had a number on it." Kate didn't answer. "It said to call Jessica...?"

"Why are you telling me this, Jack?" Kate snapped suddenly. "I wasn't there. I wasn't invited, remember?" Jack didn't respond. He didn't remember anything. "You know how to take care of a hangover. You've had them before, so deal with it!" She was yelling. Jack turned down the volume on the phone. Yelling wasn't good right now.

"It said to call Kate to. Was that you?" He asked. Kate didn't answer. It was a sad silence. Was that possible? Jack didn't know. "Kate?"

Kate started hesitantly. "Do you remember anything from last night, Jack?" She asked.

"No." Jack stated bluntly.

"Nothing at all?" She sounded upset.

"No." Jack said again.

"UGH!" Kate screamed and Jack pulled his head away from the phone to fast, making him dizzy. "This is so...so...TYPICAL!" She yelled.

"You're yelling..." Jack mumbled.

Kate didn't seem to hear him, and if she did, she didn't care. "I HATE THIS! God, I cannot believe you, Jack Shephard! You are my best friend in the entire world and you do this to me? You hurt me like this! I can never ever forgive for you this, Jack!" She ranted. Jack was suddenly worried, what had he possibly done to her last night? "Our friendship will never ever be the same! I will never forget this. You are the worst possible person you know that? People like you should BURN IN HELL!"

"WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME?" Jack yelled back at her. He felt like little air guns behind his eyes were popping, his head throbbed and he felt a dizzy spell come on. Jack and Kate, being lifelong friends, were well practiced in the art of screaming matches, but he could never get used to them. He hated being mad at her, or vice versa.

"Because you don't remember." Kate snarled. "And by the way, Jack. I would have said yes."

Click.