A/N: Well, I can't believe I actually finished a chapter this weekend! This without a doubt the busiest I've been yet, all because of end of semester finals. It figures that now of all times I go on a writing frenzy when I hardly even have time to breathe.
Anyway, as seems to be my habit, I always get motivated when its hardly the time for me to be writing, so now I've got a chapter. I hope you guys like it!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or ideas that you recognize from the show…
All The Right Reasons
Chapter 5: Delayed
The chill night air of the caves was laced with a looming tension as Jack made his way back to his own cave. His mind was in a fury of guilt as he continued to replay the previous scene in his mind. He envisioned himself angry, yelling mercilessly at Walt and even jerking the boy up by the shoulders. And even now, as it was all so fresh, Jack could see the look of betrayal in the boy's eyes accompanied by the fear. He could still see Walt running from Sun's cave, face wet with tears, fleeing from Jack's rash actions.
As Jack entered his cave, he walked briskly to the back where he kept his supplies. Grabbing his empty pack, he lifted it up and set it out on the medical car where he stored much of the camp's medicine and unzipped it. He then began reaching for anything he might need for a long hike. He took extra clothing, an airline blanket, a small flashlight and a bottle of aspirin and began throwing the items into his pack.
Jack's mind was not on his task as he continued to pack. It was as if he was working in a haze, not really considering what he was doing. All he could think about was that the Others were real. They existed. And most of all, that they had her. They had Kate. And with that knowledge, there was no question in Jack's mind that he had to go after her. He had to find them and take back what didn't belong to them.
"Every bruise, Jack, she'll be paid back two fold!"
Gale's words, his chilling promise rang like a mantra through Jack's mind, clouding his every thought. It was all he could think about, all he could even consider. They didn't just have her and they weren't just keeping her as a captive. They were hurting her. With every passing moment they had her, she would be in pain. Suffering. And there was nothing that Jack could do about it. Nothing that could erase what had already been done and what would continue until he found her.
"Jack," the thickly accented voice came just as Jack slung his pack over his shoulder, empty water bottles in hand. Before Jack had even finished turning around, he knew from the tone and the accent that the voice belonged to Sayid.
Without a word, Jack turned to face Sayid. He inwardly sighed with frustration as he met the man's dark, seemingly cold eyes. It took only a flash of a second for those eyes to spark with an untamed anger like nothing Jack had ever seen before.
"Where are you going?" Sayid asked, eyes flashing. From his tone, Jack knew that it wasn't a question so much as an accusation. Sayid knew well where Jack was going and what he intended to do.
"I'm going after her, Sayid…" Jack said firmly, his voice laced with a sound determination that was mirrored in the depths of his eyes.
"You're making a mistake," Sayid pressed, eyes forcing every accusation possible at Jack. There was a flare of pity within those brown orbs, a sense of utmost sincerity in the contours of his face, but Sayid held strong to his contrasting words.
And that was when Jack too snapped, succumbing to the soaring anger that coursed wildly through his veins, "You call it a mistake, saving an innocent woman's life?" Jack all but yelled, voice escalating with each word. His face had reddened with anger as he spoke, his blood rushing and throbbing in his ears as his pulse raced with his ever growing furry.
Sayid was momentarily taken aback at the reproach in Jack's voice and the disgust in his demeanor. Within seconds though, he was back on his feet, "And that's all this is, Jack?" Sayid questioned, face contorted in obvious rage, "What of the rest? What about them? You're our only doctor, Jack and you would leave us, all of us, for the sake of one!"
In the pit of Jack's chest, he felt the tingle of guilt building up, threatening to expand. He knew what he was doing, what he was chancing. He knew that he may never come back. And most of all, he recognized how much each and every one of the survivors had come to depend on him. Since the crash, there wasn't a single one of them that hadn't come to him for some scrape.
"Sun can-" Jack defensively, eyes displaying his hurt expression of guilt. He was immediately cut off by Sayid.
"She isn't a doctor, Jack!" Sayid retorted, the extent of his anger effectively doubling, "If there was an emergency, another accident like Boone, they wouldn't stand a chance!"
Jack winced at the mention of Boone. The sting of failure and the wound of Jack's conscience at the loss of Boone was still far too fresh. Could he live with himself if he allowed that to happen again?
"It doesn't matter!" Jack yelled suddenly, allowing all of his pent up frustration from the past week to catch up with him, spilling out before he could think to control it, "I'm not leaving her out there!"
"These people need you here, Jack!" Sayid retorted, unwilling to allow himself to pity Jack anymore than he already did. He didn't even want a single thought of Kate to enter his mind, for if he allowed it to for just a moment, then he knew that he would be right there with Jack, ready to run off into any jungle to bring her back, "You're their leader. They depend on you. What's going to happen when you're not here?"
"And Kate isn't my responsibility too?" Jack thundered, looking incredulously at Sayid. Jack let his gaze drop to the floor, his lips twisting into a grim smile as he shook his head in disbelief, "I watched her walk into the jungle that night. I let her go and I didn't follow her. I didn't even protect her, and now they've got her. They're hurting her, Sayid! I'm not going to leave her out there. I can't, not when this is my fault. Not when it was my responsibility to keep her safe and I just let her walk into their hands!"
There was silence in the cave as Sayid found himself at a loss for words. The intensity Jack had displayed just now was more than he had ever expected and now both men had no idea how to respond to it. Jack simply stood there, breathing heavily as he recovered from his rage, letting himself cool down. He still forced an angry gaze at Sayid, but behind that mask a desperation lay hidden, looming in the shadows of his eyes. With it was a fear that Jack couldn't deny.
"She's been gone too long, Jack," Sayid spoke up after a moment, voice suddenly much softer. Though his face still radiated the anger and frustration that he felt, the more dominant emotion in his eyes was the pity he felt for both Jack and Kate and his wish that there could be an easier way to bring an end to all of this.
"It's not too late," Jack muttered defensively, his eyes beginning to water with the sting of hot tears fighting to escape.
"Let's be honest with ourselves, Jack…" Sayid continued, hating what he was saying, but knowing that it had to be said. If this was what it took to make Jack see the foolishness in going after Kate alone, then this was what had to be done, "It's possible that she wasn't able to survive this long."
The look on Jack's face in that moment was enough to make Sayid want to take back everything. He knew that he had been harsh and that he had every intention of continuing to be so, but it was for the sake of everyone that Jack not go looking for Kate. Losing their only doctor was not something the survivors could afford to do. Perhaps if Jack stayed, others could be convinced to go out looking for where Kate was being kept. But not Jack. Not someone so vital.
"No…" Jack said after a moment, his entire demeanor shattered and broken beyond repair. He shook his head, gaze dropping to the floor as he laughed incredulously. In a moment's time, he brought his gaze back to Sayid, suddenly serious, "No…I won't believe that…"
Sayid had to admire Jack's determination, but he couldn't help but feel that the man was simply in denial. What good would losing Jack do if Kate was already a lost cause? In his heart, Sayid knew that the chances of her having lived this long in the hands of the Others were slim to none. What he knew of these Others wasn't good and it indicated that they were savage and brutal. When they claimed they still held her captive, Sayid had believed it was only a bluff and he still believed that.
"Don't be a fool, Jack," Sayid said grimly, hating the turn this argument had taken, "You'd only be giving them what they want…"
"She's not dead, Sayid," Sayid was surprised at the absolute sincerity in Jack's words. It was as though Jack knew without a doubt that what he said was true, "She's alive and I'm going to find her…"
There was a long pause, but finally Sayid spoke up, "Jack," his voice was solemn, as if voicing his final stand, "You can't let your personal feelings get in the way. Not at a time like this…"
Jack blinked back hot tears, once again allowing his gaze to drop to the dirt floor of the cave as though studying the intricate patterns of sand and stone. The silence loomed over them for what seemed like an eternity as Jack refused to respond to Sayid's suggestion. Jack knew it was meant as advice, but the more that the words repeated in his mind, the more they sounded like a burning accusation.
Swallowing hard, Jack mustered up the courage to respond, "I have to do this, Sayid," Jack said solemnly, hot tears burning his eyes, "And there isn't anything you could say or do that would convince me otherwise…"
"Then I suppose we're done here," Sayid responded, speaking almost as thought he had just been slapped. And in his own mind, he might as well have been.
Jack nodded, hardly knowing what else to say. An awkward sense of uncertainty hovered in the air around them. It increased the tension between Sayid and Jack that was already thick enough to be cut with a knife.
Without another word, Sayid walked away, exiting the cave. He left Jack alone to consider the previous conversation, to wonder if he might be making a mistake. He knew that if he was going to do this, if he was going to go after Kate, then he couldn't allow himself to consider what it really meant or even what the consequences could be. He couldn't think about all of the people he would be leaving behind to fend for themselves. He wouldn't deny that the entirety of the camp depended entirely upon him. He knew also that with him gone, if anyone was seriously injured, there would be no way of properly treating them.
Jack's hands unconsciously shook as he stooped over the stream that ran through the caves, silently filling his water bottles. The caves were still under the dark of night, quiet as the rest of the survivors still slept. Jack couldn't see how any of them could find sleep, not after what had happened with Henry Gale stumbling into the camp. Even if Jack had wanted to, he knew he couldn't force himself to sleep after that.
Brushing away his thoughts, Jack finished filling the water bottles and hastily stowed them away in his pack. He wanted to leave in a hurry so that he could be well away from the caves before the sun came up. He didn't want any of the other survivors to stumble upon him, not after he was obviously leaving them. He didn't want that guilt.
As Jack turned away from the caves, he immediately began to head for the jungle. Just as he stepped through the tree line he felt the all too familiar sense of danger and unease. It was as if it were a foreign danger, but one that he had felt every time he had set foot into the seemingly never ending maze of trees. It was as though he were being watched. He had been certain on more than one occasion that someone was watching him. So sure in fact, that he had stopped moving completely and waited in a still silence for someone to step out of the trees. But no one ever did.
Hardly at ease, Jack continued to make his way through the thick jungle, moving in a direction that clearly led off of the regular trail to the hatch. Soon, the clear way underfoot made way for logs and fallen branches, smaller plants and ferns growing up around them. The trees were twice as thick here, for no trail had been blazed to prevent them from getting in the way. It was how Jack had wanted it, when he had hidden the case. He hadn't wanted it to be in a place anyone would suspect. A little extra security couldn't hurt, he had thought at the time. In addition, anyone who managed to find the case would also have to have the key to open the nearly impenetrable object.
Trudging on, Jack finally reached a familiar clearing. It was littered with fallen trees, all rotting into stumps and logs. Plants and moss had grown up through many of them, linking them together through thick greenery. Jack wove his way through the mess of wood and shrubs, his boots and the hem of his jeans growing moist from the contact with the tall, dew ridden grass that was spread like wildfire throughout the clearing. He was heading for the center, where what was clearly the largest, thickest fallen tree lay, now covered by several smaller ones.
Reaching the log he had been heading for, Jack immediately stooped down, finding the hollow beneath the log that he had been looking for. It was covered by plant life, hiding its existence. Pushing away the vines, Jack reached inside, his fingers brushing against the cold metal of the Halliburton case. Getting a better grip on it, Jack pulled the case from its hiding place, lifting it out into the cool night air.
Jack could hardly make out its outline, for the thick trees blocked out nearly all of the moonlight. The clearing was a deep and foreboding shade of black, making it impossible to see precisely what he was doing. Fumbling through his pack, Jack cursed under his breath when he realized that he had forgotten to bring any source of light. Not even a common cigarette lighter, or a flashlight made for a key ring.
Sighing, Jack held the case in his hands, pulling it close to his chest. He held it tightly, as though afraid someone might try to take it away. But no one was there. He was alone. He was walking on his own into an impossible situation, one he knew he may very well never walk out of.
Gripping the case a little tighter, his knuckles turning white from the pressure, Jack nervously ran his fingers through his short cropped hair. Just touching the case, feeling its cool, rigged texture brought vivid memories to his mind, ones that seemed so long ago. In reality, it had been little more than a month.
"Is this it? Is this what you wanted?" Jack had asked, "What is it?"
"Its nothing…" Her eyes haunted, tearing up.
"What is it, Kate?" A touch of venom in his voice.
"You wouldn't understand…" Her tone laced with bitter defiance.
"I want the truth!" Jack yelled suddenly, eyes blazing. In an instant he managed to soften them, inwardly pleading, though outwardly accusing, "Just this once…What is it?"
"It belonged to the man I loved…" It was as if she was testing the water, not yet ready to jump in. Her eyes never leave Jack, though it is obvious that she is fighting him with every ounce of strength she has.
"The truth!" he shouts again, no longer able to hide his frustration.
"It belonged to the man I loved…" Kate tried again, voice shaking as she fought to tear her gaze away from Jack.
"Stop lying and tell me the truth!" The biting tone of his voice stung her as she cringed, shrinking away from him.
"I'm not…" her voice was pleading, begging him to just let her be, "It belonged to the man I killed…" she confessed after a few moments, her eyes finally dropping away from his burning gaze.
Blinking rapidly, Jack let out a breath. Despite the weeks that had passed since the incident, he still felt guilt for the way he had acted. Like it had been his business. Like it was her responsibility to tell him those things. It had been better between them since. He had made it up to her somehow. Still though, he knew it would be wrong to forget it all together.
Releasing his grip on the case with one hand, Jack reached up to finger the thin nylon cord around his neck. He immediately felt the smooth metal of the key that dangled just below his neckline, out of site. He tugged at the cord, pulling it from his neck.
Turning the case over in his hands, Jack realized that in the pitch blackness of the clearing, he had no hope of making out where the keyhole was on the case. Brushing his fingertips over the surface of the case, Jack felt around for the indent in the metal that he knew was there, if he could just find it.
Finally, he found it and held his finger firmly there so that he wouldn't lose site of it while he shifted the case in his arms. Lifting the key, he tried several times to bring it to the hole, though finding this to be a nearly impossible task in the dark surroundings. It took him several moments to succeed and as he did he quickly turned the key in the lock. His ears were met with a satisfying popping sound as the case clicked open.
Opening the case, Jack pulled out the nine millimeter nearest to his hand. He checked to make sure it was set on safety before placing it securely into the back hem of his jeans. He then took a single box of ammo from the case, but hesitated before sticking it in his pack. Did he really need an entire box? If the worst were to happen and he never came back, the rest of the survivors would only be left with a single box of ammo. Deciding it was for the best, Jack put the ammo box back into the case and took only the ammunition that was already in the gun. He hoped that it was all he would need.
Kate felt as though she were less than nothing as she lay cowering in the corner of her cell. The air around her held only a faint chill, yet still she shivered uncontrollably, never ceasing. Her breathing was erratic, her mind in a fury of emotions. How long had it been that she was here? It felt as though she had always been here, like there hadn't ever been anything else before this. All of her life up to this point almost felt like a dream.
She was certain that she hadn't been in this place for more than a week, but the pain and disgust she felt begged to differ. Every bone in her body felt as if it was alight with fire, its embers constantly burning away at her from the inside out.
In the back of her mind, Kate could still here that husky laughter and taste the stench of whisky and cigars on her breath. He had come back for her only once since the last time, but it had been enough. If she never set eyes on that monster of a man again, Kate wondered if she would move past all of this even then. She wondered if she would ever begin to feel anything other than insignificant to the world ever again.
She felt broken; used. Like everything that was good inside her was gone without a trace. She wondered if she was even the same person that she had been after the crash. After meeting Jack. And her heart ached for him. He was the peace in her mind, the thought that kept her from surrendering herself all together. She hardly knew if he would come for her, or that it would even be worth it for him if he did. What would he think if he ever found her like this? If he knew how she had been used and what they had done to her. What that man had done to her.
Since her last encounter with him, Kate could put a name to his face. DeGroot. Gerald DeGroot. She had heard some of the men say it and now it was shackled to her mind, bound by a pain that she could never forget. Gerald DeGroot was responsible for what she felt. He was the reason that she could never be what she once was. Because of him, Jack would look on her with repulsion. She was sure of it.
And so she continued to lay like that, her thoughts never leaving this all too familiar track. She tried not to put too much thought into Jack or to remember the times they had had in these past two months on the island. It wouldn't be fair to remember him that way, for those times were over. It was like this that she waited. For what, she wasn't sure, but whatever it was she knew it was coming. She waited for Jack to come. She waited for the rejection she would feel almost immediately upon seeing him. But most of all, Kate waited for the crackling sound of the intercom. For the shuffling of feet outside her door. And for them to come for her to take her back to DeGroot.
As she lay there shivering, her throat dry from constant sobs and her eyes unable to shed anymore tears, her heart suddenly stopped when the crackling of the intercom sounded overhead. And suddenly the tears came, though she had been certain that there were none left to shed. She whimpered in fear, and unconsciously fidgeted where she lay, knowing what was coming. And it did, for just then she heard the shuffling of feet outside the door of her cell.
Jack had been walking for well over an hour. He had passed through the clearing where the hatch was about twenty minutes ago, and was well on his way towards the island's makeshift golf course. Once he passed that, Jack knew that he would be in unfamiliar territory.
As he walked on, his mind was clouded with thoughts of Kate. He couldn't help but wonder how she was just now and where she was. Henry Gale's words still rang clear in his mind, ever repeating like a mantra. And he had to wonder, how could anyone want harm her? How could these people, these Others, want to harm anyone. And they had. They had harmed Claire and Walt and Charlie. And now Kate.
He didn't want to think of what they could be doing to her. When the thought would cross his mind, he would clamp his eyes tightly shut, trying his best to block it out. But those kinds of thoughts always came back because he knew they were real and until he found her, they would remain so.
Jack was torn suddenly from his thoughts as he heard a twig snap behind him. He jumped at the sound, having thought he was alone. Whipping around, Jack reached behind his back and pulled out the nine millimeter all in one fluid motion, aiming it expertly in front of him. He didn't have the time or the train of thought to see the irony in an L.A. surgeon suddenly being so familiar with such a foreign object as a gun.
Silence loomed around Jack for what seemed like an eternity. After several moments, he began to question having ever heard the noise, suspecting that it could have all be in his head. But then he had to wonder if perhaps the intruder had grown silent because of Jack's awareness.
"I know you're there!" Jack shouted out into the trees, eyes searching out every possible opening in the brush for some kind of movement.
"There's no use hiding!" Jack shouted again, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up. His hands quivered ever so slightly as he held the gun, heart racing, "I can hear you!"
But there was no reply and the silence continued to loom over Jack. The wind blew a chill breeze through the jungle, moving the branches of the trees and plants ever so lightly as if mocking Jack. He was just about to give up, to brush off the suspicion that he was being watched, but then his answer came.
There was a rustling in the bushes and again Jack whipped around towards the sound, finding it to be coming from the completely opposite direction than he had thought, "Come on out!" Jack goaded, yelling for whoever it was to make their presence known. If this was an attack, he was as ready as he would ever be. He wanted it all to happen so that it could be over, no matter what the outcome.
Jack was no longer willing to stay still. He continuously rotated his body, moving the aim of the gun as he went, unwilling to leave his back open to any one spot for longer than he had to. If he was honest with himself, he had no idea what direction his attacker was coming from and he needed to be ready.
"Put the gun down, Jack," came a thickly accented voice from just behind him. It was an order with no hint of suggestion.
Whirling around, Jack saw the thin frame of a woman emerging from the thick trees. At first he could only make out her dark silhouette, but he knew right away from her voice, a rich French accent, exactly who she was.
"Rousseau…" Jack breathed, hardly able to believe he was seeing her. After she had run off that day at the Black Rock, leaving the rest of them to deal with finding the dynamite and taking it back to the hatch, Jack hadn't expected to see her again anytime soon.
But yet she stood before him now, wearing her same worn khakis and cut off sleeve shirt, her thick untamable curls blowing lightly with the cool night air. She had her rifle slung uncharacteristically over her shoulder in an almost leisurely way, surprising Jack. He had half expected her to have it pointed directly at him.
After several moments, Jack caught his breath and his heart managed to slow down a little. Now slightly sure that she meant him no harm, Jack lowered the gun to his side but made no move to put it away completely.
"It is a brave thing that you're doing, Jack," Rousseau stated after a moment, looking Jack directly in the eye. Her voice held the same tone as it always did. One might call it emotionless or dull, but to Jack it had always sounded pained and exhausted.
"How do you know what I'm doing?" Jack questioned, hardly able to hide the accusatory tone from his voice. This woman wasn't to be trusted. After spending sixteen years alone on this hell hole of an island, who could say if she was even still sane?
"I'm not so blind as you may think," she responded simply, her voice holding a thoughtful edge, "Your people, those who survived the plane crash, you are not so secret. You are easily found out."
Jack found himself speechless, not knowing how to respond. There were several moments of silence before she again spoke up, as though completely undisturbed by this awkward stretch of silence.
"This thing you're doing, it is brave," she repeated just as she had before, nodding to Jack as though giving him her respect, "But it is a foolish thing none the less…"
"I have to get her back…" Jack felt a sudden need to defend himself as he shot back at Rousseau, hardly understanding his need to prove anything to her.
"And you would risk your life to do so…" It was not a question that Rousseau voiced, but more like she was simply stating a fact, "You must be careful of these Others," she warned after a moment, voice tense, "You will find that they are not what you believe them to be…"
"Wait, what do you know about them?" Jack questioned immediately, voice rushed. What if she knew about them? What if she could tell him where he could find them?
"Your friends, have they opened the hatch?" Rousseau casually questioned, completely dismissing Jack's question. Her voice sounded genuinely concerned.
"You know where she is, don't you?" Jack's voice grew suddenly accusing, his eyes alight with the tiniest flicker of rage, "You know where they're keeping her!"
"Sayid was right in saying it should be left alone…" Danielle continued to comment, once again nonchalantly dodging Jack's question. It was almost as if he wasn't even there and that she was simply talking to herself.
"Tell me where she is!" Jack yelled, moving suddenly close to Rousseau, as if threatening. His eyes were alight with anger, his heart beating with a fury within his chest.
"The boy will know more than I do about them…" she spoke after a moment, eyeing Jack warily and looking as if she might reach for her rifle. There was little more than a foot separating them now, leaving her little room to make any sort of movement without Jack being able to stop her.
"I already talked to Walt," Jack said firmly, considering pulling the gun on her. He was certain it would have the desired affect, "Tell me what you know."
"What did the boy tell you?" Rousseau persisted, unwilling to surrender anything to Jack. She completely ignored his menacing tone.
Sighing in frustration, Jack decided to respond truthfully, "He said there were two rivers," Jack spoke almost begrudgingly, "He said I should find them…"
"Yes…" Rousseau said thoughtfully, eyes falling away from Jack's as if to consider her words before speaking again, "The twin rivers…"
"Where can I find them?" Jack asked hurriedly, heart pumping madly with excitement.
Casually, Rousseau lifted a hand and pointed to Jack's left, out into the distance, "Look there," she said, motioning with her hand, "Do you see those mountains?" Jack nodded, "There is a flat topped one, a plateau, directly in the center. Do you see it?"
Jack let his gaze fall in amongst the mountains, finding it difficult to fully distinguish them in the dark. If he looked hard enough, he could see their rocky expanses highlighted by flecks of moonlight, defining their features. After several moments, Jack's eyes landed on a formation that looked strangely cut off at its peak, just as Rousseau had said. He nodded to her, telling her he saw it.
"The rivers flow straight through to that plateau," Rousseau said thoughtfully, her eyes looking lost in the expanses of wilderness before them, "Follow them, and you will find what you are looking for."
Several moments of silence passed as Jack studied the mountain formations before him, struggling to make out each of their outlines in the dark. He hardly knew what to think, having information that he had been so desperate for only hours before being suddenly thrust before him.
"The Others…"Jack murmured after a moment, his eyes finally breaking away from the dim outline of the mountains and falling onto Rousseau, "What did you mean when you said that they aren't what they seem?"
"And what do they seem to you, Jack?" Again Rousseau met Jack's question with one of her own, spurring his thoughts. What did he think of the Others?
It took Jack several moments to find his words as he stumbled over the countless thoughts and fears that he had summed up over the past week. When he finally spoke, his voice quivered ever so slightly, his eyes alight with an inner rage, "They're evil…" he said after a moment, obviously suffering to say it. The word sounded so foreign coming from his own lips, laced with venom and bitterness. The anger in his voice and the pain that they had caused him was eminent, "They take people, innocent people, and they hurt them…What they do, it isn't fair and I don't understand it…"
Rousseau's lips twisted into what Jack could have sworn was some kind of demented grin, as though brushing off some experience of her own. The rough and bitter edge to her voice was not lost on Jack, "And perhaps they are…" She spoke through gritted teeth, shaking her head as she spoke, "But then again, perhaps they aren't…"
The anger in Jack, his hatred towards the Others for all that they had done sparked suddenly within him, reaching a height, "I've seen one of them! He said they hurt them! He said they were going to hurt her!" Jack's voice was torn with tears, his lips quivering as he spoke, "They're not even human! Not after what they've done!"
Rousseau shook her head, looking intensely at Jack, "They are not what you think…" she spoke seriously, eyes falling directly upon Jack, "Not all of them…"
"What are you saying?" Jack asked, taken aback by what she was implying. He didn't understand. He couldn't understand. Not just now when he was so bent on hating them, all of them. He had to hate them or else he wouldn't be able to go after them like he intended to.
"You will understand in due time," Rousseau responded, as if finally understanding something, "You're not ready just yet. It will be better for you to see rather than hear…"
Jack didn't know if he should demand that Rousseau explain herself or if he should simply run the other way. He knew that she was likely implying things that he didn't want to hear. But unlike the other survivors, at least she hadn't tried to talk him out of it or tried to tell him that Kate was dead. Somehow, Rousseau seemed to share his belief, or his hope that Kate was alive. But she gave him no assurances that he would find her. He supposed he shouldn't be too surprised at her faith in Kate's survival. After all, from what Jack had heard from Sayid, Rousseau had spent sixteen years believing that her infant daughter, who had been taken by the Others a week after her birth, was still alive.
"I have something that may be of use to you…" Rousseau commented after a moment, slinging her pack over her shoulder as she began rummaging through it. Jack didn't know what to think, or even if he should trust her not to pull some kind of weapon out of her pack and attack him.
When she had finished digging through her pack, she produced a small object that Jack could hardly make out in the darkness. She held it out to him, her body straightened almost proudly, as if this were some kind of proof. Jack reached out gingerly, not knowing how to feel about accepting it. She lightly dropped the object in his hand and took a step back, tentatively watching for his reaction.
Clutching the object in a balled fist, Jack realized that it was small enough to fit into his palm. Opening his fingers, Jack held the object up into the thin rays of moonlight that leaked through the canopy of trees, letting the dim glow wash over it. Right away, he discovered what it was with some confusion.
"A lighter?" Jack questioned skeptically, unable to find any connection this lighter might have to his purpose.
Rousseau nodded, her lips twisting into that same absurd grin that he had witnessed previously in the conversation. The look in her eyes gave Jack the impression that she knew a great many things that he didn't, as though she were proudly keeping some kind of secret.
"I don't understand…" Inwardly Jack was fuming, frustrated at not getting the answers he wanted from Rousseau, and her not seeming particularly concerned.
"You will," was all she said, unwilling to offer him more than that. She knew that the answers he needed were better learned if he found them himself, "I hope that you find her, Jack…" For the first time she seemed genuinely sincere, her eyes haunted as though remembering a time when she had been in his place and the fact that she stood here now, sixteen years later, empty handed.
Without another word, Rousseau turned away from Jack and began heading back into the dense jungle. It only took her seconds to disappear completely from his sight, enveloped by the looming darkness.
She had left Jack standing alone in the middle of the jungle, more confused and lost than he had been before. What could she have meant? And could anything she had said even be trusted?
Hesitating for a moment, Jack lifted the lighter Rousseau had given him into the light again. He couldn't imagine what kind of significance such a simple object might have. Rousseau obviously knew a lot more even than what she was letting on. Why couldn't she have just told him what she meant? Wouldn't it be better if he knew now rather than later? He couldn't understand her hesitance.
Turning the lighter over in his hands, Jack began to examine it closely for the first time. He held it inches from his face, shifting it in his fingers to let the light fall on it, the dim glow of the moonlight washing over it at various angles. It was then that Jack noticed a glint of metal shining off of its white plastic exterior, reflecting in the light. He rubbed his thumb lightly over that area, directly in the center of the lighter. It was rigged and carved out, like some sort of metal emblem.
Jack moved the lighter even closer to his face, fighting against the darkness to get a better look at the emblem. It was made of black painted metal that easily reflected with the moonlight against the white background of the lighter. Jack didn't recognize the emblem as any particular brand or logo that he might have expected for a cigarette lighter.
It looked almost like a black web, with each section perfectly proportioned to the next. It spiraled to its center in equally sized circles, each fitting intricately into the next. In the center of the web like design Jack made out an oddly shaped design, which at first glance looked like nothing more than a blob. Upon closer inspection, Jack realized that it was a swan. Beneath the swan, there was a single word engraved into the logo. Dharma.
Puzzled by the logo and not having a clue what to make of it, finally relented to his instincts and gave up on it. If Rousseau had been telling the truth and was indeed trying to help him, then the lighter and its emblem when make sense in time. Admitting to defeat, Jack reluctantly stuffed the lighter into his jeans pocket and went on his way. His encounter with Rousseau had taken up enough of his time. Now, he had to resume looking for the rivers so that he could follow them and find these Others.
He had been walking for less than ten minutes when a sudden sense of foreboding washed over him. He couldn't explain the feeling, but his heart began racing in response, every muscle in his body clenching with instant adrenalin.
A low rumble of thunder cracked overhead, causing Jack to jump, heart pounding. Within seconds large drops of rain began falling, soaking Jack to the bone. His clothes were soaked straight through almost immediately, the water running in torrents down his face. He shook his head, letting the built up droplets of rain fly out of his hair, only to be replaced by new ones as the rain continued to fall steadily.
More thunder cracked over head, and for a moment, Jack could have sworn he had heard something other than the storm he was now caught in. Like a quiet rustling in the bushes nearby, but he couldn't be sure. Heart pounding, Jack forced himself to a stop. The rain continued to fall without relent as he eyed the trees around him, looking for some sort of revelation.
Just as he was about to move on, a similar sound as Jack had heard before came. It was like a low rustling in the bushes and a cracking of leaves underfoot. Now that he was sure he had heard it, Jack immediately reached for the nine millimeter, pulling the gun from the hem of his dripping jeans.
The thought that it might be Rousseau following him occurred to Jack, but he brushed it off, knowing that it was rare for her to stay in one place for too long. Besides, he reasoned with himself, I saw her leave in the opposite direction. The realization that it was most likely not Rousseau stalking him now came as no relief to Jack. He could hear his blood rushing in his ears, his ever sense cautioned and alert as he waited for a sign.
The fear and anticipation that it might be them rang clear in Jack's mind, causing his pulse to race. He gripped the gun tighter, adjusting his aim and waiting for something that he couldn't identify. As the sound came again, he whipped around wildly, unsure of what direction it had come from this time. He didn't think it would be wise to call out to whoever it was, despite his temptation to do so. If this indeed was the one of them, he had plenty he wanted to say to them.
"Rousseau!" Jack called out after what felt like an eternity. He was at a stalemate and he had to do something, "Rousseau!" he shouted again, his voice shivering with hope.
His calls were met by no answer. Only dead silence with nothing but the sound of the storm overhead, the rain falling around him and bouncing off the canopy of trees. There was a deadly stillness all around, and the looming feeling of dread that had started in Jack several minutes before cried out to him louder than before.
Clamping his eyes tightly closed, Jack exhaled, feeling the tension wash over him as steadily as the rain, consuming him. It was then that the sound came again, but this time with force. Jack could make out at least three forms in the distance. It was then that he was struck with a fear like he had never known, piercing him deeply. This was it. It was now or never.
He slowly twisted his body around so that he was facing the direction in which the dark figures were spread, not knowing what to expect. His hands shook violently as he gripped the gun, unsure of where to aim. He had never been so lost, not knowing what to do in all his life. All he could think was that he had to do whatever was needed for Kate. These people, they had her and he couldn't let them keep her. She didn't belong to them.
Before Jack had time to react or even contemplate what was happening, a shot rang out overhead. A yelp met his ears, and Jack realized after a fraction of a second that it was his own voice. He bolted, gun in hand, moving to get away. The bullet had gone far overhead, no where near hitting him.
Several more shots were fired in rapid succession, each falling closer to their target. Jack's heart was racing, his pulse burning through his veins with a vengeance. Panting as he fought for breath, Jack moved his shaking hands to aim the gun behind him, firing blindly into the dark.
There were shouts and for the first time Jack heard his attackers. In all the commotion, Jack couldn't be sure how many there were, only that he was without a doubt outnumbered. He cursed as another bullet whizzed past him, the wind of it burning against his ear. That had been too close. Stumbling through the dark, Jack threw himself behind a thick based tree and prepared to return fire.
He fired a single shot, this time able to aim slightly better at the distant dark shapes. He clearly saw one of them dodge out of the way, having been narrowly missed by Jack's shot. There were more shouts, and the sound of a woman shrieking in pain and fear. Jack's heart stopped. A woman? These faceless enemies, he had pictured them as ruthless men. Not women. He felt the tiniest fleck of hesitance, but knew he couldn't relent as they moved closer to him.
Knowing he would be cornered if he stayed as he was, Jack hurriedly pulled himself to his feet and rushing from behind the tree. Another shot was fired and Jack nearly tripped at the sound of a ricochet clanged from a nearby tree. Pulling himself together, Jack ran towards the gunfire with all his might, a shout of defiance breaking against the thick night air as he ran.
A final gunshot rang clear in Jack's ears and for a split second he was unsure if it was his own or that of his attacker. A searing pain tore through him and Jack felt the world around him began to violently spin, the earth moving from beneath him. He cried out in pain as a falling sensation was all around him. Falling, falling until he hit the ground with a sickening thud.
There was a thick wetness all around him, pooling over his lower body and completely engulfing his legs. His eye lids felt heavy and he blinked lazily, fighting to keep them from drifting permanently shut.
With a rush of footsteps coming from what seemed to be above him, Jack realized that they were coming. He was unable to rationalize the pain that was searing through his body, spreading like wildfire as it crisscrossed through each of his limbs simultaneously. It was like a burning sensation, starting from the top of his head and spreading out down to the tips of his boot clad toes. He groaned in pain, his head spinning.
"He's over here!" came a thickly accented shout. It was the voice of a man. Jack titled his head just enough to see the dark outline of a very large man towering over him. After a few moments, Jack was able to identify the man's accent as African, but with his head spinning uncontrollably as it was, he couldn't be sure.
There was a scuffling of feet and soon Jack could make out at least three or four other forms around him. Again he groaned, knowing that in his condition he didn't stand a chance.
"I can't see him…" came a new voice, also that of a man. It was much softer than the first and Jack watched as the form it belonged to pushed his way through the others.
"Its too dark!" Another voice muttered, one that was strikingly familiar, but Jack was unable to place it, "Someone pull out a light!" the voice barked the order, and Jack could hear shuffling as one of the other forms hurriedly obeyed.
Jack's eyes burned as a light suddenly blinded his vision, illuminating the place where he had fallen. He blinked rapidly, painfully shifting his body in panic. He could feel strong, rough hands harshly gripping his shoulders, forcing him back to the ground and keeping him still.
His vision was still hazy when a gasp of surprise was emitted from one of the forms hovering over him. Jack placed it with the woman who had commanded one of the others to pull out a light.
"Jack?" the voice muttered gruffly in obvious shock. He could hardly believe what he was hearing, his heart racing in surprise.
As Jack's vision cleared, the first face he could make out was that of the woman who had voiced his name. He saw first her jet black hair that hung loosely around her face, and the blackness of a tank top before the haziness cleared enough for him to see the deep brown of her eyes and for the most stunning realization to take place in his mind.
"Ana!" he breathed in shock, eyes widening as the other forms hovering over him became clear.
A/N: Well, what did you guys think? Probably not what you were expecting, I know. I hope you liked it! Reviews are always a great way for me to alter any future ideas I've got, based on your response to what I did w/ this chapter, so please don't forget to do that. Oh, and now that finals will be over in a matter of days, summer will be here and I'll have all the time in the world (sort of) to finish up this story, so there should be a lot of updates very soon. I've also got plans for a sequel that I hope to finish over the summer…Anyway, thanks for reading and don't forget to review!