t's been three days since she fell from the tree.
It's been an exhausting time.
She spent 24 hours in bed, and was only able to get up after fighting with Jack to let her at least be able to get up and walk around a bit.
She doesn't know what exactly he told everyone else about what was wrong with her, but it wasn't the truth, and he's been fiercely protective of her privacy, and her in general ever since the accident happened.
She feels so confused about what she's feeling – in general, and towards Jack in particular.
She tells herself that she's happy, that this was a good outcome – what she wanted. And most of her believes that. There's certainly a sense of relief that her life which was about to become so much more complicated – now doesn't have to.
But there's also something inside of her that mourned a little when something inside of her – unwanted and unplanned as it was - died. She doesn't know how to explain that feeling, and she hasn't try to tell Jack or anyone else how she feels.
Jack's been fussing over her since the accident, checking her a couple of times per day, advising her on what she needs to eat to recover her strength.
Part of her is touched that he cares, and part of her rebels against all the limitations on what she can do, when she wants to be free to roam the jungle once more.
And when she thinks about all of the things he did for her when she was sick, it feels so entirely weird she has to shut down her brain. She can't process how oddly intimate it was for him to have changed her sheets while she bled over them, to carry her in the jungle and into the hatch, and to sit by her side for hours on end while she was so sick.
The lines between doctor and lover are now so blurred she doesn't know where they stand exactly. But she does know that she is so much in his debt now that it will take forever to repay him everything she owes.
By dinnertime that evening Kate starts to feel terrible.
Her body starts alternating between burning hot and cold as ice and there's a low nagging pain in her stomach that seems to be getting worse.
Jack has only just agreed to let her go back to the beach that afternoon, along with a stern warning that if she experience any problems she must report back in to him immediately.
She gives it an hour or two but by 8pm it hasn't improved. She considers getting Sun to go to the hatch on her behalf but decides she can make it on her own.
By the time she gets there she's exhausted, and feeling like she might collapse.
Jack takes one look at her and grabs her then picks her up and places her on the bed.
Next thing his hands are on her forehead, her cheek, her stomach while he questions her on her symptoms.
His face looks grave.
"I think you have septis, an infection. I'll need to get you on antibiotics right away and you'll be on them for several days."
This was one of his fears from when she had the miscarriage.
Kate nods and Jack moves into the next room to look through his stash of medicine, praying for something strong enough to deal with this.
He returns with some pills in hand and a glass of water and tells her to take two with water.
Kate does as she's instructed to.
Jack looks hesitant as he broaches the next subject.
"Kate it might be a good idea if I examine you. Internally. To see if there are any signs of infection or other issues going on."
Kate visibly balks at that suggestion. "I don't want to do that," she says, sounding definite.
Jack's not surprised by her response. Normally a female OBGYN would do this, and he's too close to Kate for that to be a comfortable idea – for either of them. Not to mention the elephant in the room that there's some sort of insistent tug of attraction waging between them both.
He hasn't told her that he already had to remove her underwear to check her over when she was unconscious after the miscarriage, and the memory leaves him feeling a little flushed, even if he was doing so in a professional capacity. But that didn't extend to an internal exam which is an entirely more personal matter.
His mind was going over that concept while he was hunting for antibiotics, and it brought an uncomfortable rush of feelings to the surface, none of which were related to his role as a doctor.
"Ok. Well it's not absolutely necessary for now, although it could be if you don't respond to antibiotics. Septis can turn very serious, very quickly," he adds sounding grave.
Kate's relieved about the exam, but idea that she may not respond to antibiotics is something that didn't occur to her. In her head it was just a matter of taking the antibiotics and then getting better.
"Am I going to die Jack?" she asks, eyes wide with fear.
Jack shakes his head quickly. "Absolutely not," he replies, and his voice is fierce with denial, maybe more so than he can guarantee.
Kate feels relieved. She knows it's not a 100% guarantee because Jack is probably providing her with more certainly than he should be offering, but she thinks if the risk were higher then she would be able to tell from watching his response.
"I'll stay with you until the fever goes down. You should start responding to the antibiotics within the next twelve hours and by tomorrow evening you should be starting to feel better," he promises.
He doesn't tell her, or even dare to think about the other scenario. The scenario where she doesn't respond to antibiotics and she could be dead by tomorrow evening.
Jack turns away from Kate quickly, before she can see him shudder at the thought.
Then he turns back to her, pulls the blankets over her to keep her warm and seats himself attentively by her side for another long night.
Kate's almost starting to doze off when her hand creeps out from under the covers and tracks its ways towards Jack then then settles into his palm. Wordlessly he wraps his fingers tightly around hers.
She won't tell him this but she's more scared now than she ever was when she was having the miscarriage. He just promised not to let her die, and she wants to hold him to his word.