Chapter 5: Making Things Work

Who would have thought it would end up like this?
Where everything we talked about is gone
And the only chance we have of moving on
Is trying to take it back before it all went wrong.

Before the worst, before we mend,
Before our hearts decided it's time to love again.
Before too late, before too long,
Let's try to take it back before it all went wrong.
~ The Script, Before the Worst

By the time Kate had made it to her house, half-dragged a semi-conscious Jack through the front door, sent Veronica home, called the hospital saying she'd found their missing patient and told them he would be staying with her for a few days – not taking no for an answer – it was well past three in the morning.

Her eyelids were drooping, threatening to send her into dreamland at any second as she brought Jack upstairs to the bathroom. He slumped to the floor as soon as she let him go, nearly smacking his head on the side of the counter.

"Shit," she cursed, then clapped her hands over her mouth, waiting to see if she'd woken Aaron. In the silence that surrounded her, aside from Jack's laboured breathing, Kate let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding in.

"Okay, Jack. You're going to have to cooperate with me here," she told him once she was certain her son was still sleeping soundly. Kate knew what she had to do now and she could feel her face growing beet red just thinking about it.

"We have to get you out of those wet clothes. Jack? Are you listening to me?" He didn't reply; she was on her own now. "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you."

She started by pulling off his remaining sock, a reminder that he had no footwear on.

"Where are your shoes?" she wondered aloud, not expecting an answer. As soon as the sock was off, spilling sand all over the tiled floor, Kate started on his pants. Just as she had managed to unbutton them, Jack stirred restlessly.

"The beach," he muttered, either to himself or her, she didn't know. And she had no idea what he meant. Did Jack think they were still on the beach?

"My shoes," he explained quietly. "They're in the water."

"What? Why?" Was Jack even coherent enough to understand what he was saying?

"I donno, guess I jus'...didn'..." he trailed off, closing his eyes.

"Jack! Wake up, you can't go to sleep now," Kate pleaded with him, her efforts in vain. Jack was usually a light sleeper, tossing and turning half the night as problems ran over and over again in his mind. But when he was drunk like this he could fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Resigned to getting no further help, Kate continued to undress him. She tried to control the blush that was rising to her cheeks as she flung his soaked clothes on the floor, leaving him clad in nothing but his boxers, and slid him into the shower.

She turned the water on high, wincing as the onslaught of hot liquid stung her skin. Jack grumbled in protest when she aimed the showerhead in his direction. Kate let the water spray down on him until the entire bathroom was filled with steam. By that time her own clothes were even wetter than before and her hair was dripping down her back as she dried Jack off.

"What would you say if you were awake to see me doing this?" she asked. After waiting for a reply that never came, she decided he was still sound asleep and stripped out of her own clothes. Taking off her saturated, sand-covered shirt left Kate feeling clean and warm – especially after the shower she'd just taken.

She slipped on a bathrobe, towel-dried her hair and was rummaging through her drawers as Jack stumbled out of the bathroom. A trail of steam followed behind him, adding to his already-flushed face.

"What the hell, Kate?" he demanded, sounding more coherent than before. She paused her frantic shuffling through the drawer, searching for any clothes Jack had left behind when he'd moved out.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, refusing to match his furious tone.

"Why did you bring me here?"

She threw down the shirt she'd been holding, annoyance making her lose her temper.

"Why did I bring you here? Dammit, Jack! Maybe because you almost drowned a few minutes ago? Or because you were wandering the streets of L.A. stoned out of your mind? You can't keep doing this to yourself! I am sick of coming to your rescue every damn time you act like this!"

The growing frustration she'd felt during the evening was coming out all at once. Despite seeing how Jack's already pale face grew even lighter at her words, she continued shouting, needing to get the words off her chest.

"Whatever you're going through, you either need to figure out how to handle it or get some help. Because what you're doing right now, this, it's not healthy! And I don't know how to deal with you when you're like this!"

She began searching through the dresser again, trying to hide her tears. She heard Jack shuffle awkwardly to her side and suddenly he was whispering in her ear.

"I never asked for you to help me." His breath still reeked of alcohol and it made Kate sick but she didn't back away. Jack sounded oddly sober, a feeling she wanted him to hold on to.

"Yes, you did when you ran away from the hospital," she told him, pleased that her voice came out steady. In reality, her heart was racing – partly due to Jack's close proximity – and the jumbled mess of thoughts inside her brain spun around and around.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," he said sadly as a shiver rocked his body. For the first time Jack seemed to notice his profound lack of clothing. "Uh – " he began to ask.

Kate silently handed him an extra pair of boxers, jeans and a neatly folded shirt, thankful that he'd never properly moved all his belongings back to his apartment.

"I'm going to get us something to drink. Come downstairs when you're dressed," Kate instructed him and without another word she was gone.

Jack was left standing in the room he had once shared with her, a room filled with too many memories. He quickly slid on the clothes she'd given him, throwing his wet boxers into the bathtub and sinking heavily onto the bed. Putting his head in his hands, he tried to push down the many emotions threatening to surface.

Though his memory was fuzzy about the events of the past few hours, he was very aware that the incredible high he'd been feeling was gone. All that remained was a pounding headache and the sense that he'd screwed up again. Jack had no idea what he'd done this time, but judging from Kate's reaction it was something incredibly stupid.

It made him want to throw up, a feeling he knew would come later anyway. Dammit, Kate's right, I have to stop doing this to myself.

In no shape to be around her, Jack sighed and flopped against the bed. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of the silver picture frame resting on the night stand. Staring at the photograph inside, Jack's heart thudded when her recognized it.

He'd snapped the photo of Kate and Aaron one day at the park a few months ago. He remembered the day she'd framed it and set it there. "So that when I see it each morning I can think of you and Aaron," she'd told him. Jack was surprised she hadn't packed it away when he'd moved out.

He noticed the picture on the other dresser – one Sayid and Nadia had taken of them at Hurley's birthday party – was gone. It didn't surprise him that Kate no longer wanted to look at it, why would she when it brought back so many memories? But his eyes still swam with tears as Jack realized Kate really had been trying to cut him out of her life.

He wished he could be angry with her, could scream that she had no right to do this. Instead all he felt was sorrow that things had gotten so bad between them.

"It's my fault." Saying the words aloud was harder than he'd thought it would be. "I'm the one who's gotta fix this." He just wasn't sure how.

Blinking back tears, he pushed himself up from the bed and went downstairs to find Kate. I'll figure this out later, he thought to himself, even though his heart was aching.

He walked into the kitchen and was greeted by the sight of Kate making hot chocolate at the counter. His stomach dropped, the thought of drinking anything right now was not appealing. Though he wouldn't mind another glass of scotch.

Kate clearly had other ideas however, as she handed him a steaming cup of the brown liquid. Her no-nonsense expression made Jack take a tentative sip.

He grimaced as it burned his tongue, the look on his face making Kate smirk. Jack frowned and set the mug down on the table.

"Drink some more," Kate coaxed him. "It'll warm you up and help clear your head."

"I'm fine," he said wryly and she noticed him eying the cup with a guarded expression.

"Everyone loves hot chocolate, Jack. What would you rather have instead?" By the guilty look on his face it didn't take much guesswork to figure out exactly what he wanted. "Oh Jack," she sighed.

He frowned at the look of pity she gave him. "I wasn't going to say anything. You just assumed you know what's going on in my head," he snapped at her.

Kate tried not to let his reaction bother her. She knew he wasn't quite himself yet, the affects of the alcohol were still lingering in his system.

She watched him sit down at the table, unsteady on his feet. The sight filled her with sadness. How had he fallen so far? How could she have let that happen to him?

"It doesn't have to be like this, you know," she mumbled softly, knowing he would hear her.

He did, raising his head to look at her sorrowfully. "What does it matter now?" he asked, his defeat stunning her into silence.

With nothing else to do, Jack began sipping his hot chocolate. He kept glancing out the window and sighing morosely, wishing he could be anywhere else but here.

Kate bit her lip nervously until she tasted blood, trying to distract herself from the uncomfortable stillness. Needing something to do with her hands, she poured herself a cup of hot chocolate and sat down across from Jack.

She stared at him, waiting for him to say something. Finally he tilted his face towards her, meeting her eyes. "I should go," he said calmly, standing up.

Kate found herself shaking her head, though she knew it would be best if she just let him leave. The last thing she wanted was for Aaron to wake up in the morning and see Jack here. It would just get his hopes up.

But as good as that sounded in theory, in reality Kate wasn't willing to give up on Jack that easily. Not this time.

"Why don't you just stay for tonight, okay?" she asked him, reasoning with herself that he could be gone before her son awakened.

He chuckled to himself. "And I thought I was bad at letting things go. Just forget about me, Kate. I know that's what you've been trying to do."

His words stung, almost enough for her to push him out the door herself, but she restrained herself. He still wasn't quite himself, after all.

"You can sleep on the couch. I don't mind," she said softly.

"Yes you do, I can see it on your face. You think I'm just another charity case, someone who's got no hope of ever being fixed. You only want me around because I'm a distraction from your own screwed up life."

Kate recoiled as if he had slapped her. She forced herself to take deep breaths, not allowing herself to speak until she could maintain some degree of calm. He was trying to anger her, she knew that. He wanted her to leave him alone, but his tactic was one she'd used many times as well and she tried not to let what he'd said bother her.

"That's not going to work on me, Jack. You can't push me away like that." Her tone was ice cold, her words clipped despite her efforts to hide her irritation.

"Please, stay here tonight," she added, hating that she had to resort to begging. But he must have noticed something sincere in her expression because she saw barely concealed hope flash through his eyes.

"Why?"

She reached across the table and wrapped her hands around his. She felt him stiffen but she didn't let go and after a moment he sighed, enjoying the human contact though he was afraid to admit it.

"Because I care about you, Jack. I was wrong to try and cut you out of my life before. You have a lot to deal with right now and I shouldn't be making it any harder for you."

That was a stretch, they both knew it. The only problems he had to deal with were his own, caused by no actions other than his. Kate thought it best to leave that part out.

"I want to help you, I really do, but I can't do anything if you won't let me in. We need to talk about what's going on, okay? Then maybe we can get this sorted out. For right now though, you look exhausted."

He nodded, already fighting to keep his eyes open. The after-effects of the alcohol and nearly drowning combined with a warm shower and drink had pushed him past the brink of exertion.

As Kate led him to the couch and got him settled down, she noticed that he looked more at peace than she had seen him in a long while. Tomorrow would be difficult, she was fully aware of that and was certain Jack wouldn't open up easily, but tonight she was glad he could get some rest.

Heading upstairs to get some spare blankets from the cupboard, she turned around and saw that he had already fallen asleep. Her heart swelled at the sight of him snoring calmly, limbs sprawled across her plush couch.

And she couldn't help thinking, just for a second, that maybe things would turn out alright after all. Maybe all Jack needed was something to hope for. And maybe that was something she could give him.