it's four o'clock the rain has stopped he's in too deep he ran out of luck

Let It Go

Mon, 09 Apr 2007 22:11:36 GMT

Title: Let it Go
Pairing: what was once Jack-Sarah
Rating: PG
Summary: Jack comes by Sarah (& boyfriend)’s new place one last time. From Sarah’s point of view (and yay, she suffers).
Feedback: make my day - yes, please!
A/N: the Jack/Sarah thing is an endless inspiration now ain’t it? // Written in one go, no betas... ok now I'm just covering my *** in case it sucks. // The song Brother by Racoon got me in the writing mood. Must love it… check it on YouTube, here. // OK - how is the fact that the random woman's name I picked (Karen) because it was the first one that came to mind not scary??? Has the DeGroot woman brainwashed me into thinking of her name?

Let it Go.

Sarah was putting the groceries she had just brought home on their proper shelves etc., when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!” Sarah shouted up the stairs as she walked passed them, as her boyfriend was working in his at-home-office upstairs.

She wondered who it could be - it was 2:14 and she wasn’t expecting Karen till 4.

Jack?

He hadn’t contacted her for a while, and she’d thought/hoped he’d finally leave her alone. Their last conversation had been painful. But then again - weren’t all of their conversations painful since she’d left?

She remembered;

She forced herself to meet his eyes - his big brown Bambi eyes that were filled with pain and made him look like he was going to break down any second now.

He wouldn’t sign the divorce paper her lawyer had drafted. He thought they shouldn’t give up so easily. He was willing to go to therapy, cut back his hours (yeah, right) – whatever to set things straight.

In other words, he was still in denial.

“It’s over, Jack, whether you like it or not! You can’t change this - I’m gone. Why can’t you just let it go?”

Let it go. Hahaha.

Jack snorted sarcastically and looked away. Call it an inside joke between the two of them.

Then his eyes back on her. Bloodshot from lack of sleep, too. Sad.

But never accusing. He’d never yelled at her for what she’d done to him. Why the hell not?

Instead left her to accuse herself, caught by surprise by pangs of guilt, and with so much between them left unsaid.

It was a mixture of anger -why wouldn’t he just yell at her, get it over with, stop being such a ****** stoic saint?- and guilt -look at the guy, it was her fault- that made her be mean, again.

“It’s not even me you miss, Jack. It’s not about me. The only time of day you notice I’m gone is when you get home in the middle of the night because some patient demanded your time and attention after hours!” (she took a necessary pause to breathe)

“And even then you’re so tired you fall to sleep like a rock, so what would it matter if I were there?”

You can be such a bitch, Sarah.

He didn’t say anything, let her talk, looked at her, then down to his shoes. Did he really believe her? Her illogical, mean reasoning? And on she went,

“It’s you. It’s the thought in your head that you feel you failed, and you need to fix it. But guess what, Jack? You can’t fix this. I’m gone. I live here, now. I’m in love with him. So, please - just for once - give up, already. Sign the papers.”

She’d hurt him - of course, again. He shook his head, left. She’d sighed – with annoyment over his obstinacy, with relief over his eyes having stopped probing hers.

She looked through the peephole.

Jack.

For a second she considered not opening the door but playing deaf, but when he rang again, knocked in addition, and said in loud tone, “Sarah?!”she realized he must’ve seen her car parked up front. Maybe he’d even seen her come home from the stores.

Maybe he’d been following her.

Opening the door, she took a deep breath.

What now? – What is it this time?

“Hey,” she said with a make-believe smile.

“Hey,” he answered with a smile that was excruciating to behold.

He looked better. Slightly. Thank goodness.

Hey, maybe a miracle happened – maybe he’s come to tell we won’t need to involve lawyers and whatnot in this. That he’s gonna let it go.

Hahaha.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Ehm…”

“I told you to stop contacting me.”

He smiled wryly, nodded.

“Yeah, I know. Don’t worry – I’ll be gone in a minute.”

Now there was a surprise.

“I just came to…”

He dug a little square piece of paper out of his pocket, unfolded it with surgeon’s hands, no sign of trembling, and presented it to her.

He’d signed it.

She took it.

“Thanks” she said, actually grateful, as she looked at his autograph – little work of art. If there were any instances she had second thoughts about her decision, it was in little things like this. An autograph that was a little work of art, so thoughtlessly put down by his soft, long fingers but yet seeming so complicated you’d marvel at any falsifier successfully copying it.

“Yeah.”

The uncomfortable silence appeared as it always did when they met now, as if it was an entity travelling along with him. Or her.

She met his eyes. He wanted to say something – she could see that. Something that was difficult to utter.

On with it. Please.

She raised her eyebrow – just the right.

“Anything else?”

She sounded like a bitch, again.

“Yeah, ehm…” he did that forehead-wrinkle-knot-thing of his. And then suddenly he started speaking in the most confident manner, gathering momentum as he went along,

“I wanted to tell you you were wrong.”

About what?

He shook his head, “I didn’t fail, Sarah. You - - you gave up on us. You… started something new behind my back… you decided not to try and work things out. And maybe it was my fault we weren’t what we’re supposed to be – yeah… but this isn’t. You’re the one who broke the vow, Sarah. You’re the one who failed.”

And all of this – all of it – in that calm tone; no yelling, no screaming – no anger. Just sadness. Sadness and things said as if they were true things.

Because they were, of course, true.

A tear rolled down her cheek.

“Goodbye, Sarah,” he said relentlessly defnite and irrevocable – and still so calmly.

And so she watched him turn around, and walk away, with the legal document in her two hands, some tears falling on it, never saying another word. Just taking in his words – no yelling, no screaming, but finally – the blame.

Just thinking – he let me go.

And wondering why the hell that felt so bad.

Sat, 06 Jan 2007 20:39:19 GMT

New vid!
Finally I managed to finish & upload a vid... be it that it's not either of the ones I'd been working on forever, and it's a slideshow... *shakes fist at WMM & own computer.* But there ya go - a vid. Some time well wasted.

Fading Light - a Jack & Sarah fanvid

And here's the old one I re-found. My very first ever fan vid... and it's Sawyer i.s.o. Jack?!?!??!!!!

43 Seconds Sawyer

Sun, 19 Nov 2006 19:40:06 GMT

Title: Rebound Girl (4-6 of ? parts)
Genre: Shipper (Jem), AU, angst
Rating: PG(13)
Pairing: Jack, Emily (original characters)
Summary:
4 Jack has dinner at his parents' /// 5 Jack calls Emily /// 6 The Date
Prologue: (Flashbacks;) post Hunting Party; pre- ATBCHDI and White Rabbit. Forget about Taleof2Cities.
Author's Notes: I so hate LJ... I get these violent cravings every time I try to post up here... *looks at pulled-out hair*'

Four - Back To Reality

When Jack’s mother opened the door, it only took one second for her to plaster a welcoming smile on her face. She told him to come in and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Jack put his coat on the rack and followed her into the living room, where Christian sat with a glass of whatever in his hand. Jack sat down and faced the look on his father’s face – one that had grown a bit too familiar over the past few months. It was… hard to define. It could be concern that Jack saw there, but it seemed more like disapproval or disappointment to him.

Somehow, this house always drained Jack of his energy. A suffocating atmosphere seemed to rule it and it made him self-conscious about everything; his speech, his movements - he had to mind it all. Now, it also erased the nice afternoon he’d had with Emily from his active memory.

He’d stuck around after ‘breakfast;’ she’d laughingly threatened to do something horrible to him if he’d sneak out while she was getting dressed, and so he’d waited. She’d asked him if he was feeling OK, since he looked tired and pale. He’d hidden his slight annoyance – which wasn’t as big as it’d been when whoever else’d commented on the subject – and suppressed the pang of the painful reminder. He had laughed it off and told her it was her fault he got a hangover, because she’d let him drink too much. She’d poked him and said, “Likewise.” That had broken the tension he’d felt for a second and the subject was forgotten by the both of them. She’d shown him a couple of drawings she’d been working on; she’d majored arts in college. She was 27 years old. The drawings were impressive.

She was only 27 years old. It should’ve felt wrong when he’d heard that; should’ve made him think her much too young for him. But she’d kissed him and giggled and it hadn’t mattered, anymore. They were both adults, after all.

After some tactful glances between Christian and Margo, the latter announced she’d be in the kitchen to get dinner prepared and left the men. They shared a somewhat uncomfortable silence now the little meaningless conversation his mother had kept going had ceased.

Christian was the one to break the silence; first by playing with the glass in his hand, making the ice cubes clink, then by saying;

“Son – I hope your lunch was as good as mine.”

Jack took a breath and looked at the floor as the memory of the afternoon faded to something even more distant, “Yeah – I’m sorry. I ehm… I overslept.”

If he hadn’t looked up with that, he could’ve heard Christian raise his eyebrows. “You overslept. For an appointment at 12:30 pm.”

“I… had a late night last night.”

Christian looked at him questioningly, probably wondering why his son wouldn’t simply consult his GP, get sleeping pills and get it over with. Jack wondered if Christian recognized his own stubbornness in his son; both of them would avoid having to talk about themselves – their worries and troubles – in whichever possible way they could find. As long as you didn't put it in words, it never happened.

For a moment, Jack was tempted to tell his father he’d been out to assure him his son wasn’t doing that bad, after all. But he didn’t feel like answering the questions that would undoubtedly be asked, so he didn’t say anything more.

Christian took a deep breath and sat up straight, placed his empty glass on the table, and met Jack’s eyes with his own.

“We need to talk, son”

Jack nodded unwillingly. He felt like he always did when Christian talked to him this way; like a teenager in trouble.

“You look like shit.”

Jack couldn’t help but laugh at that – if only for a second. His father could be pretty tactful when he was dealing with patients or superiors, but with his family he never bothered about politeness. Must be some philosophy behind that. Jack’s laugh faded that soon because he knew his dad must be right. Lack of sleep and – let’s face it – proper meals hadn’t done him good.

“You should take some time off.”

“What?”

As much as he should’ve seen that coming; as much as he would’ve told anyone else in his situation the same thing, it completely blew him away. He’d put everything he had in his job, lately; sometimes not seeing his own bed for two nights, but instead taking naps on the couch in the doctors’ lounge of St. Sebastian’s. He had analyzed and thought and worried about patients and cases in a reasonably successful attempt to forget about his own situation. Tireless like a steam engine. Only when he’d let his mind rest was he forced to face himself, his messy apartment, and his empty bed.

“Look - this… thing you’re doing might work for you, but it doesn’t work for your patients. They have trouble putting their trust in someone who looks like he hasn’t slept in a month.”

Jack took a deep breath and moved in his seat as he felt his muscles tense. They could not ask him to take a vacation. What was he supposed to do with himself if he couldn’t work?

“I’m doing fine. I’m not taking a vacation.”

“I’m not asking you to take a vacation. I’m sending you on leave.”

Jack managed not to gasp – barely – but stood up. All the protest he could feel inside was echoed in the tone of his voice;

“No… you can’t…”

Swallowing back the rest of his sentence, he turned around and rubbed his temples. Christian stood up, as well. Annoyingly calm.

“Yes, I can, Jack. You need to deal with this. It’s been nearly three months.”

Jack spun around and got in his father’s face as much as he’d ever dare to.

“What I do with my private time is none of anyone’s business - as long as I do my job. And I do that just fine. So you can’t-”

“It’s not just my decision, son – the board is involved, here, as well. If you want to fight it, you get a confirmation from your GP that you’re fine.”

Jack snorted – both at the fact the board had something to do with this (no doubt for good and selfish reasons) and the suggestion of getting some declaration of health from his GP. He shook his head in disbelief of the impossibility to get out of this and was nearly caught by despair. But no – he’d find a way. He’d… fuck!

“For how long?”

“For as long as it takes for you to get a grip on yourself.”

Jack nodded aggravated and smiled wryly. So, this wasn’t about him dealing with ‘things,’ after all. It was only about him getting a grip; it didn’t matter what went on inside of him, as long as it didn’t show on the outside. So, if he’d sleep for a week and started shaving regularly again, everyone would be satisfied.

“OK,” he near-snapped, “Fine.”

He walked out of the room and grabbed his coat. Christian followed him,

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?”

”I don’t know,” Jack replied as he opened the door.

“Your mother is making you dinner.”

Jack looked Christian in the eyes and failed to see anything of understanding in them; only annoyance and a ‘we didn’t raise you like this.’

“I’m not hungry.”

* * *

Back home, he threw his keys aside and dropped his coat in a corner. His apartment was a complete mess. The sight of it had shocked Sarah when she came by with the divorce papers, yesterday, and in a twisted way he’d liked that. She was worried about him. She’d asked him how much weight he’d lost, when’d been the last time he’d shaven his head, done the dishes, met up with friends, and so on. He’d shrugged, said he didn’t know – which was true in most cases – and she’d given up. He’d signed the papers without reading them and handed them back over without looking at her. He hadn’t offered her a seat or a drink, and she’d left with another concerned look at the mess around her.

Now he dropped himself on the couch and suppressed the mixture of feelings that tried to get him to shout out, cry, or break something – or do all three – until he fell asleep.

Five - Phonecall

Half asleep, Jack glanced at the clock. When he saw what time it was, he veered off the couch fully awake. He was going to be late for work.
Only when he saw himself in the bathroom mirror did he remember he didn’t have to go to work, today, and that he hadn’t been at the hospital for nearly a week, now.

Last Monday – his first day off since who knows when –, he hadn’t had a clue as to what to do with himself. He’d tried to sleep late, but that didn’t really work; when he’d fallen asleep on the couch after ‘dinner’ at his parents’ it’d only been seven o’clock or thereabouts. He’d decided to try and clean up his apartment, but he didn’t feel like… doing something constructive. Restless, he’d decided to go and take a run and try to get things straightened out in his head.

First, he’d have to convince his father he ‘had gotten a grip on himself’ – something he didn’t have a clue how to do since he’d thought he’d had a grip on himself, already. Second, if he didn’t get his mind distracted one way or another, he might have to admit he wasn’t ‘fine,’ at all and – worse – that he probably couldn’t deal with this by himself.

And third, there’d been Emily. Or well, the thought of her. Jack liked her, but when he’d asked himself if he did so for who she was, or for the fact she could distract him, he couldn’t say it was the first, for sure. And he’d wondered whether it’d be fair to call her before he was sure – and how he could find that out if he didn’t call her. So he’d nearly-called her a dozen times in the past week, but never for real.

On Wednesday, he’d tried to sneak into his office to work on his administration – something he’d dedicated quite some time to lately. Normally, it was the least interesting part of being a doctor. Now he’d been glad to find the files ready on his desk where he’d left them last time. He’d been caught by his father, though (probably the receptionist warned him), and he’d been back home within the hour.

Now, late Tuesday morning, he tried to remember what else he’d done in the past week. He’d slept a lot – dreamt about Emily in a way that’d left him with physical evidence in the morning, twice. Tried to be polite to the few people who’d called to ask how he was doing without giving them the slightest hint they could step by - only Marc got an OK to step by, as long as he didn't try to 'help'.
Ran to get his head cleared out. Tried to read some. Sat on the couch listening to music he hadn’t heard in years.
And he’d sat with his phone in his hand, ‘Emily Parker’ looked up in his list and the ‘dial’ button ready to be pressed.

Today.
In the mail he found a paper that told him he was officially no longer married. Jack’d always thought it took months for things like this to be wrapped up. It didn’t really matter, though – whether it was official now or in half a year. He threw it aside. And he called Emily.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, Emily? It’s Jack.”

Silence. He was too late, wasn’t he? She’d figured she’d never hear from him again, and moved on. Forgotten him - already?

“You know, ehm-”

”Yeah, I remember.”

“I, ehm… you wanna… do something together, sometime?”

The cool, disinterest tone he’d thought he’d heard in the short ‘Yeah, I remember,’ must’ve been imaginative, because now he could hear Emily giggle. She laughed at him – and he couldn’t help but feel the same. He was definitely not good at this – to put it mildly. She was, though,

“Yes, I’d like to.”

He nearly was surprised at how surprised he was.

“OK, ehm…”

“Pick me up from work tonight?”

He nodded, then remembered she couldn’t see that, “Yeah. OK. Where?”

She gave him the address, they set a time, and that was that. Jack looked around his apartment as he played with the phone with his hands. What a mess.

* * *

It had been over a week, and Emily figured Jack’d changed his mind or regretted what’d happened and had moved on with his life. Or maybe this guy was in more trouble than she’d thought when she’d seen his face – the look on it and the pale color – in daylight the ‘day after.’

And the worst part was she didn’t know whether she wanted him to call her, after all, and it’d turn out he had a reason for it taking him so long (heck, maybe he just didn’t know a full week was a bit long to wait with a call) – or if it was better to indeed just move on. She hadn’t hooked up with any guy since ‘him.’
According to her co-worker slash best friend Natalie, she’d never been distracted as often as in the past week.

“You like him, don’t you?” she asked.

Emily sighed. She didn’t want to like him. And how could she know if she liked him if she’d only met him once – or maybe twice, technically? But the red lights and alarm bells the cautious part of her turned on couldn’t make her shake her head and give a definite ‘no’ in reply. Instead,

“Well, I don’t know. I hardly know the guy. But, you know…”

“Oh, you are so superficial,” Natalie laughed out loud.

“I am?” Emily replied with played indignity, “You’re the one who assumed I was talking about sexual qualities!” Natalie laughed harder and Emily joined her, glad the subject was gotten over with.

Then her phone rang – unknown number.

“Yeah?”

It was him, and she was so much caught by surprise she acted all out of herself. First with the much-too-checked cold reply, then with the much-too-enthusiastic demanding a date the very same evening. When they’d hung up, Natalie stared at her with raised eyebrows and a big smile.

“You’re in big trouble, aren’t you?” she grinned.

Emily sighed and then smiled reassuringly, “I never get in trouble.”

Six – Encounter of the close kind

When Emily heard the bell over the door go ‘tink,’ she figured for a second it’d be one of those people who needed an emergency piercing ten minutes before the shop closed. After that second, she realized it must be Jack. He was early – that didn’t surprise her. She walked from the backroom into the shop and greeted him with a smile while he shook hands with Natalie and they exchanged names.

“Hi,” she said warmly as she walked up to them. She was much too happy to see him – felt the urge to touch him, if only just for a second; so she put her palm on his upper arm as she stood on her toes to give him three customary kisses on his freshly shaven cheeks. He grinned as he eyed her.

“Hi.”

They stood there looking at each other for a second, slightly lost as to what to say or do - as if they were a couple of teenagers, or something. Emily giggled and snapped out of it, first.

“Have a seat. I’m nearly done, just gotta freshen up and stuff.”

She glanced at Natalie for approval – she wasn’t really off for another ten minutes – and got it beyond a doubt. Jack sat down and Emily pointed to the stash of example tattoos on the table.

“See if you can find one you’d want to wake up with someday after you get ridiculously drunk.”

He laughed. “OK… then I guess it's a good thing I'm not much of a drinker.”

“Yeah, I gathered that much,” Emily teased with a 'yeah, suuure' look on her face as she turned to walk into the backroom. She exchanged a look with Natalie, who smiled and raised one eyebrow approvingly. Emily rolled her eyes and hurried to the employees’ bathroom to change. After Jack’d called, she’d hurried home in her break – ten-minute walk – to get something appropriate, wondering why on earth she’d told him to pick her up from work.

Emily wasn’t someone who felt all that confident about her looks – especially about those couple of pounds she could well do without – but when she stepped away from the mirror about five minutes later she felt she looked OK enough.

Instead of walking into the shop, she quietly peeked at Jack. Natalie was finishing up for the day, and in the meanwhile talked to Jack, who politely laughed and answered. He seemed to look better than he’d done last week; less pale, less tired, less… lost. Emily decided he must just need some good old-fashioned fun – and that she’d try her best to make sure he’d have it.

He happened to look at the doorway and saw Emily standing there, and she walked into the shop pretending she’d just come out of the bathroom, saying cheerfully, “Here I am.”

Jack stood up and put his jacket back on – Emily imagined he’d look better in something a bit less formal than a suit and tie. Not that she was complaining about his looks, now. She could see his discreet glance at her casual-but-not-too-casual evening dress as he gently put the palm of his hand on the bare skin between her shoulder blades as they walked outside. Nice touch. He seemed satisfied enough, too.

Now; Emily didn’t know the first thing about cars beside them having four wheels, but she could see Jack’s was not a flashy red hundred-thousand-dollar show-off vehicle; she set herself on the passenger seat of a luxurious but plain grey car. The same thing went for the restaurant where he took her; she was happy to find out Jack intended to pay the check because she wouldn’t have been able to, but it wouldn’t be on any map for the rich and famous. Well - what else had she expected from this guy?

They got a private enough table for two and had nothing to do but eat, drink, and keep each other company. And that’s where things could have gone wrong; they’d find out they had nothing to say to each other, there’d be awkward silences, and the evening would be too long no matter how short it’d be. But that didn’t happen. Instead, Jack would discover giggling was much more part of Emily’s nature than that it depended on her alcohol consumption, and Emily found Jack’s twinkly-eyes laugh/smile the cutest she’d ever seen. Moreover, Jack didn’t seem to like to talk about himself that much (or well,- not at all), like a lot of other guys did. Instead, he asked her genuinely interested questions about her life and arts and everything.

“I bet you could draw if you tried,” she said daringly when he decidedly labeled himself as having no artistic bone in his body, “I mean – with those surgeon-hands of yours, you must be able to work with the instrument pencil.”

He shook his head with a modest smile. “Nah – that’s really not my thing. Ehm… the only things I draw are explanatory, you know – spines and nerves and whatever to give people an idea of… yeah – you’re trying to eat.”

He obviously did that on purpose. Still, even as he deviously laughed at the acted ‘yuck’ expression her Emily’s face, the slightest shadow seemed to pass over his eyes. It was gone before she could determine whether it was real or just her imagination, though. She forgot about it as he changed the subject – back to her, of course.

Emily got a bit scared when she noticed she was letting go of her usual reservedness and telling Jack more about herself than she had told any guy since… forever. Not any deep, dark secrets or really private stuff or anything, but still – more. And what might be even scarier than the fact he so easily managed to make her feel at ease like that, was that she wasn’t inclined to try and do something about it all. Maybe she was in trouble, after all. Or, heck – maybe she’d just see where this’d go and have fun along the way.

Under the table, she took off her right shoe and felt for Jack’s leg with her bare toes. Finding his ankle, she rested her foot against it and checked his reaction. He glanced around just the least bit startled before he smiled a ‘what-are-you-doing-but-don’t-stop’-smile. Her foot went upwards along his muscled calf.

* * *

Jack hadn’t told her he was sent on leave, and if he didn’t have to he’d rather not – not yet, anyway. They were supposed to have a good time together, and he did not want to be forced to answer any ‘why’-questions that would undoubtedly be asked if he’d tell her he had been sent on leave. He didn’t want to talk – or think – about it, and she most likely would not want to hear about any personal problems on a first date. And he didn’t want to talk – or think – about it. Emily’s foot feeling him up under the table kind of helped with that.

When the waiter’d come by to ask if all was according to wish and they’d answered in the affirmative and asked for the cheque to be brought – Jack’s voice a bit more high-pitched than usual because of what was going on in the shadows under the table, Emily giggling deviously, and the waiter probably wondering what was going on – Emily grinned,

“What do we do next?”

He put on a serious, pensive face; “I had an amazing plan for tonight… but I sort of forgot.”

“You forgot?” she went along with it, “You sure know how to impress a girl, don’t you?”

Played indignation, “Hey, it’s not my fault. I was distracted.”

Played surprise, “Distracted? By what?”

Emily turned around in her seat so she could see another couple at their table; they must be about sixty or over – note the man’s grey and the woman’s white hair. Emily turned back around with an angry look on her face;

“Oh. I see. You’ve been looking at her all the time!”

Jack managed to not start laughing as he got where this was going, but answer her with indignation, “What?!”

She got up to her feet.

“You think I’m blind, or something?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Sure. Just… take me home, OK?”

And with that - plans made.

Emily nodded coolly to the waiter, who’d been within earshot for the bigger part of their ‘fight,’ and walked out. Jack laughed at the man sheepishly. He cleared his throat as he followed the waiter to the counter. “I’m sorry about that. She ehm… she’s a bit paranoid.” The waiter nodded understandingly.

As soon as Jack stepped out the door, he was grabbed with two hands and pulled aside by a wheezing Emily. “You – are – brilliant!”

“Me?” Jack laughed, “You’re the one who accused me of flirting with my grandmother.”

She laughed even louder at this played indignated remark and Jack put his arm around her to lead her to his car. Jack proposed to go to her place as she’d suggested during their little play, since that seemed a better idea than going to the movies (which seemed completely lame). So that’s where they went, and they indeed spent the evening – and the night – with just the two of them.

Coming up: Seven - Decisions

Rebound Girl Parts 1-3

Wed, 08 Nov 2006 14:11:31 GMT

Title: Rebound Girl (1-3 of ? parts)
Genre: Shipper (Jem), AU, angst
Rating: PG(13)
Pairing: Jack, Emily (original characters)
Summary: the relationship of Jack and Emily
Prologue: (Flashbacks;) post Hunting Party; pre- ATBCHDI and White Rabbit. Forget about Taleof2Cities.
Author's Notes: to spittlepig: putting these parts in one post i.s.o. apart meant losing your comments; sorry - I appreciated them greatly! /// I'll keep writing as long as I can't help myself.

One - First Encounter

“Hey.”

A good-looking brunette sat down next to Jack at the bar and smiled at him. Startled from his thoughts, he glanced aside. He gave her a polite smile and a “hi” in return, but then he continued staring at the glass of whiskey standing in front of him. It’d stood there for fifteen minutes, maybe more, and he hadn’t been able to decide whether or not he was going to drink it. Either way, he didn’t want company.

“Is that a double?” the girl asked, referring to the whiskey.

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

“So - are you gonna drink it?”

She sounded amused, and he guessed she’d been watching him for some time before deciding to walk over to him and tell him to get over himself and finish his friggin drink. He turned to her to answer; “I don’t know. Why? You want it?”
He didn’t sound friendly, exactly, but that hadn’t been his intention. He wanted her to leave him alone. She either didn’t get the hint, or ignored it.

“No – you look like you can use it, yourself.”

That was exactly why he thought he shouldn’t drink it. He wasn’t a drinker like his father, who drank habitually and often but rarely seemed to really get drunk. Jack drank only sporadically, and if he did he did so with no other goal than to get drunk, forget about the occasion, shut up his mind and be able to sleep.

Drinking away your problems was too easy – and once you got the hang of it, you’d forget you should actually deal with them. It was one thing he didn’t want to end up like.

He wondered what this girl wanted from him, and snorted, “Well – thanks.”

Their eyes met and he saw hers smile along with her lips. He couldn’t help but appreciate her bluntness and shook his head with a smile – a bit more of an honest one. Apparently, she’d ordered a drink for herself before she’d come over to him, because the bartender put down a glass (Bacardi-coke?) in front of her. As she nodded a thanks to him, Jack took a closer look at her.

What was he doing here?

She caught him and smiled again.

“Emily.”

“Jack.”

“Well, hi, Jack. Pleased to meet you.”

She giggled and he figured this wasn't her first Bacardi-coke of the evening. But somehow, he didn’t mind her company that much, anymore.

Most people he knew had or tried to avoid having to ask him how he was doing and had only gave him weird, worried looks from a distance, or had nagged his head off assuring him they knew how he felt, or that he should keep his head up, or whatever. This girl had just told him he looked like shit, but she didn’t look like she was going to ask why. Somehow, it was exactly what he wanted right then – someone who recognized him for who he was, but wouldn’t get on his back for it.

Emily raised her glass and motioned him to do the same.

“To getting drunk with strangers,” she said. He nodded in agreement and drank.

* * *

An unsure amount of time later they were standing outside, waiting for a cab. Jack felt a bit light-headed and enjoyed the feel of Emily’s head against his shoulder. She was having a laughing fit over something – he didn’t know what, exactly, but the sound of her laughter and the shaking of her body against the arm he’d put around her made him smile broadly and feel giggly, himself.

Jack was glad she’d come sit next to him. It hadn’t been just the booze that’d enabled him to not think – or at least, think a bunch of a lot less – about Sarah tonight. Emily’d distracted him by teasing him about what she said to be his gentleman-ness, by telling stories about the strange people that would wander into the tattoo/piercing shop she worked at, and by imagining vividly what would happen to any patients of hers were she a doctor. She had comic talent, for sure. And she didn’t mind him not telling her half as much about himself as she told him. When she’d asked, “So, why does one go to a bar, by oneself, on a Saturday night?” and he answered, “To be reminded of all the reasons to not get any tattoos” she just giggled, said “I’ll convince you, yet,” and moved on to another anecdote.

Emily caught her breath and looked up at him. Her eyes were as deep brown as his were, and he was caught in them so much he wasn’t even conscious of his own stooping a bit to put his lips to hers.

With the amount of alcohol in his blood it was all too easy to shut up the little voice in his head that asked him to analyze his motives. He was there – she was there – she was beautiful – they’d had hit it off pretty well –

and she didn’t mind his kissing her the least bit. With their eyes closed, they forgot about the world around them as they shared a kiss; her arms around his waist, his hands sliding from her shoulders to her hips.

The sudden honk of a cab’s horn startled them back to reality. Jack tasted blood from her biting his lip in the shock of the noise. She giggled, “sorry,” and he wondered what the cab driver and the people walking by on the street were thinking about them.

Then he opened the door for her to get in and she asked him,

“I thought we’d share a cab,” which he gathered must mean “do you want to come home with me?”

“I’m not sure,” he doubted as the voice grew a bit louder. Maybe it was the cool air that’d woken him up a bit. Or maybe it was just that annoying part of him that always had to do the right thing – even when an attractive, smart woman invited him to spend the night and he had no obligations to anyone else.

“Ow, come on? We’re on the same route,” she reminded him coaxingly, “It’s nonsense for you to stand out here for another five minutes to wait for a next cab! And think about the ozone layer!”

With that she put on a theatrical face and made him nod, “Okay.”

Fuck his annoying part.

* * *

“Can you wait here for a minute? My good Sir Knight here will bring me all the way to my doorstep. Right?”

Jack paid for the cab ride up to there and was dragged out of the car by Emily. He followed her inside her apartment building and saw her push the button that’d take the elevator to the 9th floor. The doors shut and up they went. When the elevator went ping and the doors opened, anyone who’d have been waiting would have found two people kissing passionately and two pairs of hands exploring shoulders, faces, backs, and hips frantically. There was no one there, though, and Jack moved to get out. Emily stopped him by whispering in his ear with a nearly audible grin, “I live on the fifth floor. My mistake.” She felt for the button panel with one hand as she kept a tight grip on his jacket with the other.

The doors closed again and the elevator went down. On the fifth floor they did get out and Emily managed to dig up her key from her purse. When she’d opened the door and flung her arms around his neck to kiss him and move inside her appartment together, he pulled back. In part cursing himself for coming all this way with this; in part cursing himself for not being able to just let himself go for one night.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can do this,” he sighed, shaking his head.

“What?” she was disappointed, puzzled. “Why?”

“Because,” he took a breathe and looked at the floor… “I… you’re too nice to be a rebound girl.”

“Rebound girl?” she said unbelievingly. Then she started to laugh – equally unbelievingly.
“Jack… I’m not exactly looking for a long-term-relationship, either.”

She looked at him and her laugh subsided as she saw he wasn’t laughing, yet looking guiltily.

“You’re serious, aren’t you? My goodness, Jack – how much booze does it take to get you to loosen up? Did you never hear about ‘seizing the day?’”

He snorted with a smile. She tugged at his sleeve. “Come on. Don't make me beg.”

She was beautiful. He was excited. She didn’t ask for anything after tonight. He’d been told to let go of Sarah. There was no one he’d have to justify himself to – no one but himself. He should be able to deal with that.

He let her lead him into her apartment and kicked the door shut behind him.

Two – Morning After

They hadn’t closed the curtains, and sunlight woke Jack up. He and Emily had fallen asleep in half-embrace; he lying on his back and she snuggling up against him. Her arm lay across his bare chest; his arm supported her neck as her head rested against his shoulder. He didn’t remember any sheets, but they were pulled up to cover half of their bodies now.

Staring at the ceiling, he wondered what he’d gotten himself into. Day after. Headache. Deep breath.

He could simply leave. That’s what she’d said, right? “Seize the day;” no consequences; no strings attached. Get up, get out, and get on with life.

There were two things that made it hard to leave.
First, there was the fact she was lying half next to and half on top of him. The chances of her not waking up were small.
And second. She really was a nice girl, and he wasn’t sure he wanted this to be just a one-night thing. He rubbed his eyelids and temples with his fingers and took another deep breath.

Sarah and he weren’t even officially divorced, yet. He’d signed the forms yesterday – after which he’d driven around and ended up in the bar – and it wouldn’t be long before he’d receive some confirmation letter, or whatever. He hadn’t wanted to divorce so soon. That would just make it so… real. He’d tried to believe that it wasn’t too late – that she could and might still take back her decision, and they could both get a chance to make it up. He’d forgive, and she’d win his trust again. He still loved her, and he had reasoned, cried, and shouted. He’d reminded her of the vows they’d made – ‘forever.’ But she’d said it was too late, that she was in love, and that she was sorry.
All they had to do to make their vows undone was sign some paper. And that – if it was that easy, than marriage and vows were just… a lie.

He looked at Emily as he felt her fingers move across his chest. She was awake, and he brushed the hair that hid her face back.

Last night – that’d been real. It’d been fun. And he could credit the alcohol for part of it, but Emily deserved the credit much more.

Day after. There should be regrets. More than he felt, right then. He smiled.

* * *

The first thing Emily became aware of when she woke up was how light it was in her bedroom. The second thing was the man that lay in her bed with her, his chest going up and down regularly under her arm. She lay silently for a while, feeling and listening. When he sighed and she realized he was awake, she raked her fingers through his chest hair and looked up at his face. He looked back at her and a faint smile crept across his face. She gave him a warm one in return.

“Good morning,” she said softly but cheerfully.

“Hi,” he said in a morning-voice.

“You’re still here.”

She couldn’t help but sound surprised, since she was surprised.

“Most guys sneak out as soon as possible.”

It was out before she realized it. Just great – tell a guy he was one out of many. That would make sure he’d get away as soon as he could.

It was the way she lived her life and she refused to judge herself or be judged by anyone else for it.

There had been a time she thought she'd met Mr. Right; a time she'd believed herself settled and satisfied. Until she'd found out the truth about Jordan - after a prolongued mourning period she'd decided to re-embrace life, youth, and fun. And she liked her life; she was not one of those girls hiding their hurt in promiscuous behaviour; not one of those girls who were so afraid to trust any man they would guard off anything lasting.

Someday she’d meet Mr. Right (the real one) and fall in love, and it would be right, but she was determined to enjoy her freedom until that would happen. And the guys she brought home with her were the same - just looking to have some fun.

But this guy was different. She’d known that since she’d first seen him sitting there by himself at the bar, so… lost. He’d never gone home with anyone before, that was crystal. Emily’s guess was he was having a hard time about a break-up. Poor guy.

Back to the present; she reminded herself she was not looking for a charity project, and so it was good if she scared him off with her little comment just now.

But on the other hand, last night had been more than just ‘fun.’ She’d felt safe with him – comfortable was the right word – and she’d had to watch out not to tell him too much about herself. And what he’d said – “You’re too nice to be a rebound girl” – had gotten to her more than she’d like to acknowledge to anyone, including herself. Neither did she want to acknowledge she was, in fact, glad he was still there.

What she’d said either didn’t get through to him, or it didn’t matter to him, because he answered with a smile; “You’re practically lying on top of me – how do you suppose I’d sneak out?”

“Hmm… good point,” she said. So maybe she shouldn’t be that surprised.

As she moved to lie a bit more comfortable (still using his arm for a pillow) she could see it all coming. Jack would not just go home and forget about this – about her. If she’d give him her number, he might actually use it. And – crap – she might say ‘yes’ if he’d ask her out.

He sounded insecure, “I should’ve?”

“What?”

“I should’ve sneaked out?”

She shook her head. “No… no – this is fine.” Warm smile.

Three – Standard Procedure

Things could very well get awkward, since Emily obviously wasn’t used to guys hanging around for breakfast, and Jack thought he must have broken some unwritten code. She said it was fine, though, and she didn’t get up or hint in another way she wanted him to go. Instead, they snoozed a bit, together. They talked about the hummingbird tattoo on her left bicep – which he dared trace the lines of with is finger – and a few other things, but for the better part they found the silence to be comfortable enough, and they dozed in and out of sleep. And, as weird as the situation may be for both of them, it didn’t feel all that weird. Just – a bit when he’d start thinking.

When Jack’s phone rang somewhere in the living room, it was 1:30 p.m. He remembered the lunch meeting he was supposed to have with his dad, and he nudged Emily to move.

“Hmmm,” she protested.

“It’s 1:30,” he stated.

“It’s Sunday. And I’m hung over.”

“It’s my father.”

Something in his voice made her look at him questioningly, but she let him push her off him. He found his coat on the floor in the middle of the living room and got his cell phone from the chest pocket. It stopped ringing the second he pushed ‘answer’ and he had to call back.

“Dad.”

“Jack. Where the hell are you? You were supposed to meet me an hour ago.”

“I’m eh…” he rubbed his neck, “yeah – sorry. Ehm…”

“OK, here’s the new plan. You come over for dinner with me and your mother.”

It didn’t sound like a proposal as much as an order, but Jack didn’t protest. He nodded, not realizing his father couldn’t see that through the phone. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do, anyway. And if his father wanted to talk to him, he’d rather get it over with as soon as possible.

“Jack?”

“Yeah,” he startled – not catching whatever slightest tone of concern might be in Christian’s voice. “I’ll be there at… five.”

“Good.”

Christian hung up the phone without further greeting. Jack sighed and threw his phone on the couch. He wasn’t sure what Christian wanted to discuss, but it didn’t figure it’d be about how well things were going.

Back to reality.

He heard a shower running and found the bedroom empty. He collected his clothes and got dressed. And then – he didn’t really know what to do. He sat on the couch for a while, but then figured things would undoubtedly get awkward if he stayed. To her, he was just one of many guys. He wasn’t meant to stick around. And so, he didn’t.

* * *

Emily wasn’t all thatsurprised that he was gone when she looked into the living room. She’d put on her bathrobe and wore a towel around her wet hair. Maybe it had been one of those phone calls that made you drop whatever you were doing and fly over to wherever the call was made from. Or maybe he wasn’t that different from other men.

“What did you expect?” she asked herself. This was best, anyway. Probably.

As she dropped herself on the couch with a sigh, she noticed the piece of paper on the salon table. He left her a note.

“Had to go. I’m sorry. Jack.”

She grinned. He was different. Absolutely.

Nonetheless, he was gone. And, for the first time, she was upset about a guy leaving without there being any way of contacting him again. No numbers exchanged – not even last names. Just… he knew where she lived. She knew where he worked. But that was not how it worked.

Just as she got up, the doorbell rang, and she peeked through the little hole to see if it were someone she could open the door for in her bathrobe.
She would worry about the too good feeling when she saw it was Jack later, and opened the door for him.

“Hi,” she said with a grin. She wondered why he’d come back. Maybe he changed his mind. But the look in his face scared her. It was… uncomfortable; guilty. And… sad.

“Hi,” he answered, “I, ehm… “he rubbed his head as he tried to think of how to put ‘it’ – whatever that may be.

“I… I forgot my phone,” he said to the floor. The good feeling she’d had disappeared and was replaced with a touch of disappointment.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ehm… it’s on the couch,” he pointed, “I think.”

It was, and Emily handed it over to him as he stood in the doorway awkwardly. That went for the both of them now – it must’ve been one of the most awkward situations Emily’d ever been in. And she didn’t know what was worse; that this guy walked out and then came back for his phone, or that she cared so much about it.

“You left me a note.”

He looked up and nodded as his eyes flew from left to right in a sort of tic, or something.

“Important phone call?” she asked hopefully.

“No. Yeah. Well –“ snorted with a bit of sarcasm, “with my dad, everything is important. But no… I….” He took a deep breath, “I didn’t know what to… do.” He shook his head; in disbelief the embarrassing situation and of what he thought to be his own stupidity, probably.

It’d been Emily’s own fault. With her stupid comment on ‘most guys.’ She smiled understandingly and said, “So you figured you’d just go with the standard procedure and sneak out.”

He smiled again – and again in that self-sarcastic way. “Yeah, I guess.” Emily could tell there was more to it, though. That phone call had played a part, for sure. And the guilty look in his eyes was not just for her – it was for whatever woman he’d warned her she’d be his rebound for.

She decided to act on her impulse of the moment. They could agree to not be serious, right? To just have fun, and see where they’d end up. She should be wiser, but it seemed worse to not take a chance and wonder how things could have been, than to take the risks that came with the chance. In this case, at least, that seemed true.

So, when he took a breath, uttered an awkward, “so, ehm” and must be about to turn and leave, she stopped him;

“Well, I sure hope you manage in-hospital standard procedures better than you did this one, ‘cause-ehm – it didn’t really work, did it?”

Emily grinned – and so did Jack.

“No, I guess not.”

“I had fun last night,” Emily said suddenly, and she looked him in the eye to emphasize her statement. "I mean - not just," she rolled her eyes, "you know."

He smiled – no sarcasm – and nodded. “Yeah, me too.”

“Would you…”
“I, ehm…”

They laughed at their simultaneous speaking. The awkwardness was gone and as good as forgotten, already. She hinted him to go first, and he sighed, doubted, looked at her, away from her, and finally dared,

“I’d like to see you again.”

He looked at her with eyes that wanted to know if a gross mistake had been made. Emily assured him there hadn’t been with her eyes.

“Hand over the phone,” she ordered. He obeyed and she found out how to put her number on his memory card. Handing it back over, “Emily Parker.”

He checked and put his phone away. “Jack Shephard” with a smile.

“So – do you have to be anywhere?” she asked as she pulled him out of the doorway and into her apartment by his sleeve.

“No, not until five.”

“Do you want to have… breakfast?”

She must’ve lost her mind. But for now, losing one’s mind seemed a great thing to her.

Breakfast at two. He nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, I’d love to.”

Expected Next: Four - Back To Reality

Sites

Thu, 19 Oct 2006 15:00:53 GMT

My site with a collection of Matthew and Jack avatars, banners, and other pictures:
Jackaroo's

My Matthew Fox information collection (or whaddayacallit) site:
Matthew Fox

Another one of those (mini fic)

Fri, 06 Oct 2006 15:10:47 GMT

Title: goodness I hate thinking those up (scrolls text) Another one of those
Genre: angst, pre-crash
Characters: Jack and some anonymous bartender and security guard.
Warnings: the word fuck is used (ok - no warnings)
Summary: Christian is dead. Jack is bummed.
LOST-timeline: Night before flight.
Spoilers: How can someone who ain't seen past S1 spoil anyone?
Disclaimer: Not mine, yada yada
Author's notes: Stumbled across this old thingey that was half finished and would / might be the beginning of a longer story. Since chances of that story being written are not extravagantly big, I decided to post this up here. We'll see about the rest.

Another one of those

“Another one of these?”

Jack pointed at the empty glass as he looked at the bartender. The man gave him an investigating look and then shook his head.

“Sir – I think you might have had enough.”

Jack snorted. ‘Enough’ was a euphemism – he doubted he could walk a line – but it wasn’t enough.

He wasn’t a drinker like his father, who drank habitually and often but rarely seemed to really get drunk. Jack drank only sporadically, and if he did he did so with no other goal than to get drunk, forget about the occasion, shut up his mind and be able to sleep.

The occasion of today was Christian’s death, which had been caused by the same stuff Jack now used to deal with it. Or, rather, to postpone having to deal with it. Deal with the ideas of Christian being absent from now on and of him dying alone in an alley. Deal with the tone in his mother’s voice and the looks he’d see on her face that told him she blamed him. Deal with his own mixture of feelings; sadness for the loss, anger at Christian for leaving the way he had and killing himself, regret for the fact they hadn’t been able to make up their differences, and guilt. He knew it wasn’t his fault. But emotions don’t always respond to common sense.

“I’m not driving anywhere, and I’m not causing any trouble,” Jack tried.

The bartender gave him another look and apparently realized Jack was right, but then shook his head in decision.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

Jack looked at the Australian bartender with mixture of disbelief and anger. The little warning bells in his head that warned him to keep his cool were not loud enough to over shout his emotions and the buzz of alcohol.

“You’re sorry?” he snorted as he stood up, “What the fuck do you have to be sorry about?”

“Sir…”

“No – you must be the best bartender on this side of the planet. And I’m sure you’ve never been responsible for someone dying of a heart attack because he’d had one too many drink! Because you know when to stop serving!”

In the silence that had fallen among the other people in the bar, Jack could hear his own words ring in his ears as if there were an echo, and then felt the eyes burning in his back – eyes of people who must be figuring he was another one of those; throwing a scene for being cut off.

He could also feel the heavy hand of a security guard landing on his shoulder and pushing him away from the counter.

“Let me show you to your room, sir,” a baritone voice suggested.

Jack nodded defeated, “Yeah, sure – room 302.”

Thank goodness no one here knew who he was.

Just one of those moments - Sawyer ficlet!

Mon, 25 Sep 2006 11:28:52 GMT

Title: (not my favourite part to fill in) Just one of those moments
Genre: General.
Rating: PG.
Warnings: Sawyer in trouble. Oh, dear – now we seen it all.
Spoilers: I could not have written this if I weren’t spoiled by people who mentioned and/or showed something about food. All forgiven, by the way.
Notes: first Sawyer fic. :D pretty random, I know.
Feedback makes me happy

Just one of those moments

“What is wrong with you!” Kate exclaimed.

There had been moments Sawyer’d thought she understood him better than anyone else ever had; that she had somehow managed to see through him, see through the masquerade and get a clear view of his soul.

Those moments never lasted, though, and whatever he’d tell her in them, he’d regret having done so later. And never did she confide in him in return.

It’d taken him years to build up the wall of defense around him; the one that enabled him to tell himself he didn’t give a shit about what anyone thought about him. But she – she made him care. Because – dang it – he cared about her. Which made life a teensy bit more complicated.

And there had been moments, as well, in which he’d thought she cared about him, too.

But at other times, she made it so clear she didn’t that he wondered how he could’ve believed it.

Now was one of those moments. There she stood, meddling with stuff that wasn’t any of her business. Frowning like she did.

Sometimes he nearly hated her. Heck - maybe they should marry.

“Stay out of it, Freckles. Ain’t none of your business.”

“You’re burning our food. How is that not my business?”

“This ain’t our food. And we did fine without it, before.”

“Oh, so you miss the old days, ha?”

He rolled his eyes.

Could try to explain. That he wasn’t the only one suspecting something was wrong with the Dharma food. That the difference between those who did and those who did not eat it was growing clearer by the day. That this – ditching it – was the only way to stop those morons from doing whatever it was exactly to themselves.

She’d probably just tell him he should’ve consulted Jack about it.

“Hey! What’s going on here?”

Speaking of the devil.

Jack pushed his way through the crowd that had gathered around the fire when Kate’d started yelling. Sawyer rolled his eyes and waited for Kate to fill the Good Doctor in – and with him everyone else there.

“Sawyer’s burnt the Dharma food supplies,” she ratted him out.

“What?” Jack turned to Sawyer with a puzzled and already disapproving look in his face. A mutter started to rise from the crowd immediately.

And there he was again. Surrounded by people who looked at him with disapproving, angry and disgusted faces. Talked about him with disapproving, angry and disgusted tones in their voices. Right where he belonged.

People so determined of seeing bad in all that he did they wouldn’t stop to think he might have a brain he used now and then. Like a herd of sheep that preferred eating poison to thinking for themselves.

He wondered if it was the food that’d dumbed them up, or if they’d been so stupid all along – didn’t take him long to get to a conclusion.

As he answered Jack, he wondered why he kept trying to explain himself.

“The food’s bad and you know it.”

Kate cut in before Jack could open his mouth,

“We don’t know that -”

“Like **** we don’t!” he snapped harshly.

“ - and even if it’s true – who gave you the right to decide what to do with it?”

This was one of those moments in which he decided he’d stay who he was; in which he decided to not bother trying to change into something better, or whatever. Moments in which the gall of bitterness took him over, as he realized he would never be able to earn anyone’s trust let alone love. He hated Jack for being the man standing next to Kate instead of him, for being put on a ******* higher platform by her – he hated him for it because he couldn’t hate her.

So he was Sawyer, again – still – snorting with a sarcastic smile and stepping up to her.

“Jeez – I dunno, Freckles. Who you figure’s got the right to give me rights, then?”

With that he eyed Jack, who seemed remarkably less excited about the whole thing than most of the others. Jack wasn’t a sheep – if he had been he’d been a lot easier to deal with. Lot easier to really hate, too.

“So whadda ya think, Doc? We’re all gonna die now?”

Jack took a breath – guy always seemed to need his five seconds of thinking-time – so Sawyer stepped up to him and continued with a volume making it impossible for anyone besides Jack to hear (even for Kate),

“Let’s face it, Jackass. You know the food had got to go just as much as I do, but you’re either too chicken to do it yourself, or too smart. Knew I’d do the dirty work for ya sooner or later, didn’t ya?”

Jack just sighed and looked past him into the fire – or into nowhere.

**** you Sawyer told him with his eyes, and he walked away.

Forward - short ficlet

Mon, 25 Sep 2006 08:56:29 GMT

Title: Forward (see Warnings 1)
Genre: General
Rating: PG
Summary: Jack wakes up disorientedly.
Warnings: 1 I’m terrible with titles. 2 Vague-ity ahead.
Notes: These are four successive scenes. There’s a whole background story to it, buttehm… that’s sort of stored in my head and not coming out right now. Maybe someday – probably not.
Feedback: very welcome (including angry “WTF!”s)

Forward

When Jack woke up, he had trouble getting his eyes to focus. It took him several minutes to actually get it right, and in those minutes he also became aware of the dryness of his throat which was impossible to swallow away; of the nearly artificial silence in the air; of his nakedness underneath the cool sheets.

He didn’t remember this place, didn’t remember going to bed – nothing. Maybe he’d been hit on the head, but no – no bandage, no headache. Only a vague nausea, dizziness.

“Good morning,” someone said.

Jack wondered if the man he saw sitting at his bedside now had been there this whole time. How could he have overseen him?

But how could he have overheard him coming in?

“How are you feeling?”

As memories started seeping in and Jack arranged them to make sense, he didn’t answer.

“Can you tell me your name?” the man asked patiently.

Things’d fallen into place.

“Fuck you,” Jack muttered before he closed his eyes and turned his head away.

* Forward *

He woke up completely disoriented. Kinda nauseous, and with a helluva headache. Swallowing in a dry throat, he discovered the man sitting at his bedside. Vaguely familiar – where’d he know him from again?

“Nice to see you waking up” the man said in a friendly voice.

Jack nodded vaguely as he eyed the room, which did not look familiar at all. When, after a couple of minutes, the man spoke again, Jack felt he’d been this close to figuring out how he’d gotten here, but the voice interrupted his thoughts and he didn’t quite get it.

“Can you tell me who you are?”

He might not remember what had happened, exactly, but he had figured out the man wasn’t exactly a friend.

“I’m sure you’ve read all the files.”

* Forward *

Why was the light so bright? How could anyone not have the sense to pull down the blinds, or something?

Closing his eyes again, he realized the millisecond they’d been open had been long enough to get his stomach rolling around inside of him and he groaned.

“I’m sorry about that,” he heard a man’s voice, followed by a couple of footsteps and what heard like the rolling down and closing of the blinds. He dared open his eyes again very slowly when his stomach’d settled down, and the nausea was less enough to be able to keep them open – mere slits, but still.

The man sat down again.

Who was the guy? And where was he?

He managed to swallow and asked more or less out loud,

“What’s happened?”

The man shushed him,

“Later. Now – how are you feeling?”

“What do you think?” he growled in answer; not really regretting his rudeness when he realized it. The man smiled and somehow looked familiar, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t figure out where he knew him from.

He racketed his brain as to how he got here – wherever that may be – while the man performed some superficial examination. Growing impatient and uncomfortable for not having a clue as to what was going on, he cut it short by being nearly-rude again;

“Are you going to tell me what’s happened or not?”

The man sat down again and nodded.

“Can you tell me your name?”

He grew way beyond uncomfortable when he realized he couldn’t.

* Forward *

He slowly opened his eyes, sighing, and didn’t recognize anything he saw. The man at his bedside nor his voice appeared familiar to him, so he just cracked out a dry “Hi” in response to the

“Welcome back, Kyle.”

* Forward *

Mistakes

Fri, 21 Jul 2006 10:46:55 GMT

Title: Mistakes (1/1)
Category: General
Genre: Angst
Characters: Jack (centric), Kate. No romantics, though.
Place in Lost's Timeline: Well, there's mention of the Hatch, so it has to be in Season Two. Randomly.
Rating: PG or PG13
Summary: Addiction.
Disclaimer: If I'd own them, this could be another way to torture Jack. Lucky him I don't own anything. The lyrics used are from the brilliant song FIx You by Coldplay. Don't own it.
Author's notes: This was written as bare dialogue first and then turned into something more readable. The first half's been written some time ago, the second half yesterday.
I’m not even used to it myself anymore, but the italicized stuff is thoughts – something I picked up when RPGing.
By the way this is the first time I’ve ever written Kate; apology to all those who have more insight in her and see the lack of it in me.

Mistakes

* * *

I promise you I will learn from my mistakes

* * *

When you try your best but you don’t succeed
when you get what you want but not what you need
when you feel so tired but you can’t sleep
Stuck in reverse.

* * *

Check the bag again.

Jack violently ripped open his backpack, rummaged through its contents, and turned it upside down to shake out the contents when he didn’t find what he was looking for. Bottles of water and medical supplies spread over the floor. He squatted and went through the stash. The blue plastic bottle he needed wasn’t among the things lying at his feet.

He cursed, wiped away the beads of sweat he felt running down his temples. The air conditioning in the Hatch wasn’t broken; it was just him that was cooking up. He blinked a few times and ran his hand through the bag one last time; main compartment, side compartments, front compartment.

The bottle wasn’t in the backpack. Just like it wasn’t in the medicine cabinet, or the cabinet, or any other place it could logically be.

It just wasn’t there.

As he stood back up, he suddenly hurled the bag against the wall –

“Shit!”

- and kicked one of the bottles of water lying in front of him, making it spin in circles as it flew across the room.

Where is it?!

He was absolutely positive he’d put it in its regular place – one of the side compartments of his backpack.

Well - it can’t simply have disappeared, can it!

Then it hit him;

Someone took it.

And as to whom might have done that - the answer wasn’t hard to guess.

Kate.

He rushed out to look for her.

* * *

He could have – should have – known from the start. Maybe he had known.

He’d hit his head pretty hard; hard enough to make him lose consciousness for a couple of minutes and after that feel dizzy, drowsy, nauseated – basic concussion effects.

But the worst had been the constant, relentless headache; a thudding pain spreading from the place of impact at the back of his head through his entire skull. Which disabled him to even think straight.

They’d let him rest for a couple of days, but then Claire got so worried about Aaron’s flu she felt he just had to be examined (and she’d been right that he was pretty ill), and Jin finally revealed not to be the perfect fisherman by stepping into a sea-eagle. With that, it apparently was decided Jack was well enough to be the doctor again; to deal with all the questions fired at him; to break up another fight; to listen to and keep secrets; to figure out what to do about this-and-that situation. Basically, to get back to being the Jack everyone expected him to be.

So he’d prescribed himself painkillers to be able to deal with all of the hectic until he’d recover and the headache would let off.

But it didn’t let off – it only seemed to get worse. And somewhere along the way he wasn’t sure about its cause anymore.

And somewhere along the way he’d lost track of things; forgot those drugs were meant to take away physical pain until the cause of it was gone, and not to deafen the feelings of worry, frustration, and hopelessness that sometimes seemed to evolve into voices whispering in his ear how messed up everything was.

And somewhere along the way he’d found himself standing in front of the medicine cabinet again, his eye falling on a bottle with a more concentrated and thus stronger variant of Lortab. And he’d decided, against all reason, not to decide he’d been on drugs for too long as it was, and it was time to let it go and simply face the pain in his head – and whatever other pains would surface. He’d decided, instead, to put the bottle in one of the side compartments of his backpack.

* * *

He found her by herself in Sun’s garden, squatted with her back to him. He didn’t feel like going through the usual niceties.

“Kate, where’s the Lortab?”

“The what?” she answered absently as she was startled out of her thoughts – she hadn’t heard Jack walk up to her from behind.

“My meds.”

She must have heard the slightly impatient tone in his voice, but she responded as if she didn’t know what he was talking about. Standing up from her squat and turning to face him only slowly, seemingly still concentrated on the small plants in front of her, she answered with an innocent look on her face and the usual disapproving tone underlying in her voice;

“You mean the ones you’ve been using?”

He nodded impatiently, looking at her eyes. He knew she knew exactly what he was talking about, and he was already annoyed with the discussion that would undoubtedly follow about it. They’d had it before.

What do you know?

Matter-of-factly; “The ones I used, yeah.”

She shrugged airily. “I dunno. They’re not in the cabinet?”

Somewhat surprised she didn’t jump him about ever using that ‘junk,’ but more annoyed by her played ignorance, he snorted unbelievingly and near-snapped;

“If they were in the cabinet, would I be looking for them?”

She must have got it then, but she kept up the irritating, innocent air, pretended she had no idea about any whereabouts and was offering him her help;

“OK, ok – well… maybe you misplaced them?”

Come on, Kate. Quit the theater.

He looked her in the eye and said decidedly – accusingly –;

“I didn’t misplace them. Somebody took them.”

Bingo. The helpful/concerned look was replaced by one of indignation.

“Oh – and you figured that ‘someone’ would be me..”

Yes – and I have good reason for that, don’t I?

“Just…” – a shake of his head telling her he wasn’t in the mood for this – “give them back, ok?”

“What you need them for, anyway? I thought you stopped using it a while ago.”

Her eyes emphatically inquisitive, her tone somewhat sarcastic – she was accusing him, now.

Don’t let her get to you.

He nodded, subtly happened to not look at her when he answered, and he thought he sounded convincing enough;

“Yeah - I did.”

As far as anyone knew, anyway.

“Look…” – stop trying to turn this conversation away from the subject. It’s none of your business in the first place. – “they belong with the rest of the meds, ok? If everyone just goes ahead and takes something-”

He sighed as he realized the superficiality of his excuse – and knew she realized he was making it up at the spot, as well. He should’ve thought of something before coming out here to confront her. Now he sensed that all he would accomplish with this was getting into a fight with her – or worse. But it was too late to say ‘never mind’ and walk away.

“- what if you’re not around when someone needs them? And, by the way – what do you need them for?”

Should’ve left that last one out…

Apparently, she agreed, because she ignored the remark. Instead, she hurled another question at him;

“What makes you so sure I took them?”

How sure was he? How likely was it Kate would go trough his stuff to find the Lortab, take it, and wait for him to figure it out and come for it – assuming he would assume it was taken and it was her who took it? Wouldn’t it be much more likely – and easier – to simply confront him?
Yeah – would it?

But another look at her confirmed his thoughts. No matter how good an actress she was proving to be right now. Maybe she’d been planning to confront him later, or maybe this was another case of Kate-the-impossible-to-understand. But she took it, alright. She was the only one who would.

He retorted; “Because you made it so very clear you disapproved of my using it.”

She nodded vehemently.

“Yeah, I did. Because I think you should’ve just stayed in bed and rest for a little while longer, instead.”

He gave her a look, rolled his eyes, and knotted his brows;

“Do you not think I would’ve done that if I’d seen a remote possibility for it?”

“Oh, come on,” she rolled her eyes, “You were back up to full speed after what – two days? I’m sure someone could’ve filled in for you for one week.”

“Yeah? You know how to prevent someone from getting his blood poisoned after stepping on a sea-eagle? Or what to prescribe to an infant with a dangerously high temperature?”

No, you don’t. No one does. And that’s why…

“No, I don’t. But I do know that meds are no more than the next best thing when you have a concussion, and that you shouldn’t use these for over two weeks.”

As she paused to take a breath and tried to lock eyes with him, Jack cursed himself for coming out here in the first place. It’d been a mistake.

She continued a second after he started answering her, so that they spoke simultaneously.

“Oh – so you are the doctor.”
“Because this stuff is addictive.”

I am not addicted.

The word hung in the air between them, threatening to freeze everything around them.

Jack didn’t protest; didn’t say, “Oh, come on;” didn’t ask “what the hell are you implying;” and didn’t tell her she was wrong. But he refused to break down, refused to let the world freeze. Instead, he got himself together and snorted dismissively;

“You know what? Fine. You hold on to them. But just… when you hear someone scream in pain or whatever – make sure you remember where you put it, ok?”

He vaguely realized how little sense that made, but it didn’t matter. He just had to get out of there – get out of there and sit down and deal with the smack of the word ‘addictive’ being hurled at him. Saying words out loud instead of silently thinking them and pushing them away made things too real.

Words said out loud make it harder to lie to yourself.

Kate did not let him go, but called him back before he’d taken a step and a half, “Jack.”

He turned back to her and saw her stooping over her backpack and take out a blue plastic medicine bottle. She walked up to him and extended her hand with it for him to take it. He moved to take it with an annoying,

“Can’t take the responsibility?”

That was another mistake – Kate pulled back her hand and dropped it at her side. Jack looked at her in annoyed surprise.

“Oh – I can handle it,” she said sharply, “the question is; how are you holding up?”

He squeezed his eyes in pretended confusement.

No. We are not doing this. I am not.

“What?”

“We all need something, don’t we? Something to get us through the day here.”

There were too many thoughts in his head to channel them. He did not know what he wanted, anymore. Wished to tell her – everything. Wished to tell her to leave him alone and mind her own business. Wished to just… give up.

“You’re gonna give them to me, or what?”

Theater. Defense. Walls.

She ignored the question; “I mean – Jin and Sun, Rose and Bernard – they all have each other. Sawyer has his books and his sarcasm; Locke and Eko have their faith… what do you have, Jack?”

Accusingly, “I could ask you the same question, Kate.”

She didn’t bite the bait, didn’t start “I have….” and come up with whatever shortlist. Didn’t let him take the conversation away from the subject;

“Except we’re not talking about me, right now. We’re talking about you.”

Jack snorted and shook his head; “No, we’re not. We’re done here.”

And yes – he sounded convincingly fed-up when he went on; “You want to hold on to the Lortab, you go ahead. I don’t need them. I just hope you’ll be around when someone else does.”

That should be that, and he walked away.

And there it was, a sudden, determined, convinced statement, said loud and clear,

“You’re addicted, aren’t you?”

Words said out loud make it harder to lie to yourself. The world did freeze together with Jack in his tracks. Jack defrosted it with another audible snort. Where the hell he managed to dig it up from was hardly a question of importance to him. What else could he do?

He didn’t turn around, just sarcasmed with his back towards her,

“Yeah, sure, Kate. That’s why I let you keep them.”

Taking one step.

“Don’t walk away from this.”

Stopping. Turning. Getting in her face from where he stood.

“Walk away from what, Kate? From you being ridiculous?”

Kate snorted unbelievingly and raised her voice, “Oh, am I being ridiculous?”

He nodded vehemently, knotting his brow, “Yes, you are.”

Kate took a breathe.

“OK. Fine. I’m being ridiculous. But I’m right, too, aren’t I?”

Things started crumbling down inside.

“No, you are not.”

“Can you look at me and say that again?”

Their eyes met. Hers begging him to let her in and tell the truth. His begging her to not do this to him. Jack’s eyes were mirrors to his soul and he felt paralyzed. Vulnerable. He couldn’t do what she’d asked him, but broke the unbearable eye contact.

“I don’t have to answer that. I don’t owe you anything.”

“Oh, you don’t? You don’t think you owe us a clear-headed doctor?”

She sounded near-desperate. But she was not going to let him go. He was not going to walk away from this. This was… going to be too much.

With as much authority and confidence as he could conjure up, “Listen to me, Kate,-”

“No. You listen to me! You think you have to be strong. But are you strong enough to admit that you have made a mistake?”

A mistake?

No…

And there she had him. Jack walked up to her. Walls blown away, control gone.

Voice quivering, “A mistake?”

And she knew it. She nodded and un-raised her voice;

“Yes, a mistake. We all make them every now and then, you know.”

Jack opened and closed his mouth in search for words to tell, to explain, to channel the memories and thoughts and – everything. To let out his anger, his regret, his shame, his – everything. When he started talking, he’d stopped thinking, stopped weighing and considering.

Just let it out. Everything.

“And you’d call – this – a mistake?”

Walking up close to her. Frantically. Voice breaking halfway through, choking at times.

“Do you wanna know why I was on the plane, Kate? I went to Australia to get my father to come home. And - do you wanna know why he went there, why he felt he had to leave the country? Because – because I ratted him out. Because I got him to lose his job, his license to practice, his honor, his friends… Because he performed surgery after having one too many drink at lunch, and he killed a patient. So… would you call that a mistake?”

“Jack…”

He didn’t even hear. Pushing back tears he didn’t know he was pushing back – but visible in a thing layer forming and covering his eyes, anyway –

“And you wanna know what state he was in when I found him there? He was dead, Kate. Now – who’s mistake was that?”

“Jack.”

Beat. Shoulders slumping. Tears fighting their way out.

“So – what do you want me to say? That I’m sorry? That I screwed up beyond all reason? That I… that I took your only doctor and turned him into… because what if that would happen, Kate? What if you’d bring someone in for me to take care of, and I’d be… and I’d… Would you call that a mistake, Kate? No…”

“JACK!”

She took his shaking head between the warm palms of her hands, forcing blurry eye contact, forcing him back to the here and now.

“But that didn’t happen. And it’s not going to happen. It’s going to be okay.”

It’s going to be okay?

He snorted sarcastically, trying to pull away from her touch. She didn’t let him go.

“It’s gone, now.”

Broke loose and stared at a little plant. Big 6’2” guy. Fallen apart. Lost. Whispering.

“I’m sorry… I’m …”

“Jack – look at me.”

He obeyed.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.”

“No - you don’t.”

“We’ll get you through this. You’re gonna be okay.”

* * *

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can’t replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones

and I will try

to fix you.

* * *

Revelation

Fri, 21 Jul 2006 10:30:39 GMT

Title: Revelation (1/1)
Category: Somewhere between General and Slash
Genre: Angst
Characters: Jack (centric), Sun.
Place in Lost's Timeline: Sawyer's ill in bed.
Rating: PG or PG13
Summary: Sun makes Jack spill.
Disclaimer: If I'd own them, Jate nor Skate stood a chance..
Author's notes: This is a whole other style than the script-style used in the previous three stories. It's more really a story. With thanks to Mona Hegli, for she played the part of Sun in a YIM RPG from which I derived muchos of this story.
With thanks to Mona Hegli, who played Sun in the spontaneous YIM RP out of which this story evolved.

Revelation

Jack stepped outside the Hatch to take a walk – and a breather. He just had to get away from there for a while; away from Sawyer, and from Kate sitting at his bedside… Sun followed him out. She probably worried about him, and he guessed she was right. He hadn’t eaten or slept in – how long was it?

“Jack, do you want something to drink?”

He tried not to show how tired he was – or that he’d stepped outside to be alone. She had this sweetest smile on her face – caring. His smile was a faint one. It was no use trying to hide his fatigue from her. Sun had somehow managed to learn to see right through him. He couldn’t help accept the help she offered him.

He nodded, “Yeah, that'd be nice. What have you got for me?”

“Water,” she said as she offered him the bottle. He’d seen that was all she was holding, but asked,

“Water… you haven't got anything stronger?”

“Sorry... Sawyer has got all the ‘booze’...”

He laughed at the face she made to go with the comment. Her eyes twinkled for a second as she smiled broadly, too. He unscrewed the bottle and found himself becoming thirstier with every sip he took. He’d nearly drunk the entire half litre before he realized it – or before he sensed the vague funny taste there was to it.

“Where’d this come from?”

“The rain water.”

“OK.” Didn’t really matter, anyway. “Thanks.”

They stood there together for a while, comfortably silent.

He never suspected her of anything when he started feeling a bit light in the head, or when he got seriously dizzy after that. He blinked vehemently and shook his head to clear up his sight. Didn’t really work. He grabbed hold of Sun’s shoulder for support as the world around him seemed to start moving in ways it shouldn’t.

“Sun?”

She couldn’t keep him upright – he was too heavy for her to support all the way – so she helped him sit down on the ground and calmly talked to him; “Jack… you need some rest…”

“I’m not feeling very well… sort of dizzy…”

“It's nothing Jack… it'll just make you rest a bit...”

You put something in the water, didn’t you? What – are you and Kate gonna pull this on me every time I don’t keep to my bedtimes?

“What did you put in that water, Sun?”

He felt his body going limp, eyes starting to roll away. Instinctively fought to stay awake. It was a fight he couldn’t possibly win, though, and Sun’s voice seemed to come from somewhere distant as she said, “Trust me Jack… it’ll only make you sleep for a while.”

“I don’t wanna…” She probably couldn’t understand him properly, and it didn’t really matter since he never got to finish his sentence. He closed his eyes and gave into sleep. From far, far away; “I know you don't want to… but you need to...”

*

He slowly opened his eyes, finding Sun was there watching him.

“Hi, Jack.”

His first thought was, How long have I been out?

But that really didn’t matter when he remembered he’d dreamt – and what he’d dreamt, and how vividly the dream was still with him. And he just knew…

He sat up, “hi”, looked at her intently to read from her face if he’d talked in his sleep.

He had.

And she had heard it. Shit… shit…

Maybe he could convince her that… that what? Eyes wandering as he searched for something to tell her.

Pretend it’s nothing. Maybe it’s not that bad...

Against all odds he asked, “Did I, er… did I talk in my sleep?”

Please, no. Just say I didn’t.

He remembered Hannah, a high-school girlfriend who broke up with him when she’d heard him talk in his sleep.

She never told him what he’d said.

Sun slowly nodded, looked serious.

“I’m sorry, Jack. I felt I shouldn’t leave you out here by yourself.”

He nodded, too. She knew. Oh, shit…

“Sun… look, this…” he smiled as he shook his head to try and make it all seem less serious.

“I don’t know exactly what I told you, buttehm…”

He got up to his feet. There really wasn’t a smooth way out of this. He shouldn’t have asked her; that way they’d both have been able to pretend it never happened. But – too late for that, now.

“Look, just… forget about it, okay?”

He nodded. Yeah. They could do that. Just forget about it.

“Is that what you want?”

He knotted his brows in confusement, “What?”

“Is that what you want? Forget about it?”

Shrugged, duh, “Yeah.” What other option is there?

A silence fell between them.

“Jack… if you need to talk…”

“I don’t”, he cut in determined. There was nothing to talk about, anyway.

He cursed her for her care, for her instincts, or whatever it was that made her say,

“Are you in love with him?”

The question shook him on his feet, made him snort, smile, cry inside, shake his head.

“What?”

“Are you in love with him?”

“Yea, I heard you. But, I mean – laughing – come on, Sun! He’s the most self-centered, arrogant, pain-in-the-ass redneck I’ve ever met. Oh, and yeah – he’s a guy?”

Did he sound hysterical? Did he look hysterical, the way his facial muscles moved, the way his eyes refused to focus on anything in particular?

“Jack…”

He looked her in the eye, raised his brows. “Sun. I – am not – gay. I was married, okay?”

She nodded, “OK,” and turned; started to walk away from him. Her care, her instincts – whatever it was – somehow forced him to -

“Sun.”

He’d have to get this out of the way for once and for all. Make her believe him.

Or tell her the truth.

But when she turned, he couldn’t speak. Just couldn’t. Because, as long as he kept it shut inside, safely tucked away, he could still go on pretending. But once he’d said it, out loud, or allowed the words to take on a form in his head… it’d be real. Tears burned behind his eyes, but he was not going to let them out.

She walked up close to him, looked him in the eyes questioningly.

“Jack… are you okay?”

She put her hand on his arm. Not good.

Shit! How did she – how could she… he looked around to everything there was to see, anything but Sun’s questioning eyes, as he felt his eyes filled with tears. He looked away from her and bit his lip, fought them back. This was not really happening.

How he wanted to get it out. How he wanted to keep it in. How he wanted to go back in time and tell Sun he wasn’t thirsty. He had to swallow away something before he could answer, softly,

“No… I don’t know… I…”

One tear made its way down his cheek. She just looked at him, patiently, encouraging. He wanted to tell her to get lost and leave him alone. He choked,

“I’m sorry.”

A confused look in her eyes, “What for?”

More tears escaped. He had no words to answer her question – and he couldn’t have answered even if he’d had them. He looked around at everything but the woman standing in front of him. Who took another step towards him. Who put a hand on his cheek and wiped a few drops away with her thumb. A look of doubt washed over her face as she dropped her hand. But apparently, she decided to make him open up to her. And he heard her ask,

“Jack… are you gay?”

A shiver went down his spine as he gasped for breath.

“No…” don’t ask me that, don’t, please… He heard the desperate tone in his own voice,

“I can’t… I won’t…”

“Don’t lie to me – don’t lie to yourself.”

He frantically shook his head in denial, “No. No, no, no, no…”

But it was real. As much as he’d deny it, push it away, it wouldn’t change what he really felt.

His tears won the fight. The shaking turned into nodding.

“Yeah,” he said without sound. A little louder – a whisper; “yeah.”

Looked her in the eye – away – back. Then he closed his eyes as he said it out loud. “Yes.”

She flung her arms around him – which should’ve been comical, but wasn’t. He didn’t respond, just stood there. Shoulders slumped. Truth sinking in.

“It is OK, Jack.”

She sounded like she really believed that. He wished he could. He pulled himself away from her.

“No. No, it’s not… OK, Sun. It’s… this…”

I never should’ve told you. I never should’ve… ******, Jack, what were you thinking?

“this was not supposed to happen. I, I'm not supposed to be…“ Couldn’t utter the word, “I thought... I married... I loved her.”

But he’d known, even back then, that it was not the kind of love he was supposed to feel for her; not the kind of love it took to make a marriage work. And he’d tried, he’d tried, and told himself he’d made it go away. Told himself – told her – she’d fixed him. It’d been a lie, no matter how hard he’d wanted it to be true. But he’d become good at lying, so good that he…

Had he ever really believed it?

She must’ve seen he was shaking. She took his hand and led him to a log she’d apparently noticed, then sat down on it and pulled him down to sit next to her. He let her.

She seemed to weigh her words carefully; she spoke hesitantly and looked at him intently, as if she was afraid she’d say something wrong, and as if it would be catastrophical if she did.

“I… understand it’s… hard, but… it doesn’t change who you are. And… you are a beautiful person, Jack.” She smiled a bit, “You must take my word for that, okay?”

He nodded. He didn’t – take her word for it. He knew himself better than she did, didn’t he? He looked down at the ground.

“Maybe… I am a very naïve girl, but… I thought, in the West… it doesn’t really matter.”

He snorted, even laughed shortly. The amazing Western World, right.

“Oh, it matters, alright.”

“But, how? Why?”

Was she playing dumb on purpose, to force him to answer these questions for himself? He looked at her again. Yeah – that was exactly what she was doing. But he’d answer, anyway.

Because… he trusted her, and he couldn’t dismiss her – couldn’t say ‘no’ to that caring face.

“Because it’s… no one… everyone… parents…” It was hard to think of the right words to put it in.

“It’s just… it’s not normal. It’s not what people want. People don’t want a- - - gay… doctor.

People don’t want - - - gay children.”

Something in his face, or in the choked tone of his voice, had given him away,

“Parents… your parents?”

As much as he hated having to think about himself, he knew letting it out was the right thing to do. And as much as he hated the understanding, probing look Sun was giving him, he knew she was the right person to let it out to. If he could…

“Tell me about them.”

Overwhelmed with memories, he shook his head. A blurry veil covered his eyes.

I don’t know if I can…

He knew his parents loved him. Of course they did. And it wasn’t fair to say his childhood had sucked – not at all. They had just wanted what was best for him; that was why Christian had been - a little distant, and asking much of him. Because he’d wanted the best for his son. This had simply been his way to try and make him strong and able to deal with pressure and criticism.

And he’d turned out well, hadn’t he? Renowned – nearly famous – surgeon. Lots of friends. Wealthy. Lovely wife.

Gay people didn’t get all of that. Not in the society he grew up in. It just didn’t fit the picture.

That perfect picture his father had thought up for him to fit in. Yeah, they’d talked about it. And Christian told him what to do, as he always had told him what he could do best.

“If you want to be a doctor… people don’t want homosexual doctors, son. People want normal doctors. So, if I were you, I’d get my act together and deal with this as soon as possible. You’re seventeen, Jack, and you’re not the only one whose hormones are pulling tricks. But you can fight it. Don’t let this ruin your life, son. Get over it.”

“I was never... good enough. I will never be... good enough.

I am not what they wanted.”

As he blinked the veil away and glanced aside, he could see the nearly angry look in her eyes. That hadn’t been his intention, not at all.

But could he blame her? He was a mess, and she didn’t have that much to go with.

“But they are not here, now. So, maybe it’s time you let it go. Because - what did they want? A perfect picture? A fantasy child? That is not fair. Maybe it’s time you stop trying to live up to their expectations. Allow yourself to be… you.”

He’d wanted to defend his father, as he always had. And he wanted to tell her it wasn’t that easy to let it go, because he hardly know who he’d be if he gave up on that picture of Jack he’d made his own over the years. If he could do that, at all.

Did I really mess up that bad?

But the look on Sun’s face stopped him from saying any of that. All of this; all they had said, all he had shared – it was safe with her. And he knew she understood it – him, more than he’d wanted. But somehow… that was OK now.

Because life wouldn’t get easier any time soon now he’d allowed things to become real. But at least he wouldn’t be alone.

He felt his body relax slowly as they sat there silently, her hand on his. He stopped trembling, his breathing went back to normal. And his tears dried. It wouldn’t be the last time he ever cried – but it was the first time in a long time he stopped it just because he felt better. Eventually, he cleared his throat.

“Sun?”

He looked aside and met her eyes asking him ‘what?’ He nodded.

“Thank you.”

"Sarah, My Wife"

Thu, 20 Jul 2006 23:54:51 GMT

Title: "Sarah, My Wife" (1/1)
Category: General
Genre: Angst
Characters: Jack (centric), Sarah, Kate, Sun. Sawyer, Sayid, Locke, and Charlie have a few lines, too.
Place in Lost's Timeline: After ATBCHDI; before THP. Can be seen as follow-up to Falling Apart, but not necessarily so.
Rating: PG or PG13
Summary: We'd seen Jack's wedding and knew it'd ended. I filled in how.
Disclaimer: If I'd own them, we would love Sarah . Don't own the music referred to, either.
Author's notes: Again in script style. *** Song: “Answer” by Sarah McLachlan; from the album ‘Afterglow; Arista records, 2003.
((It’s hard to estimate the timing with such a song, though)).
*The theme music is from LOST – on http://www.lostlinks.net/audio&video.htm - lost themes - pick one.

"Sarah, My Wife."

**

*Daylight lightens the cave, where Jack lies sleeping and dreaming, moving and mumbling. On his forehead lies a white, wet piece of cloth. Sun sits by his side, watching him. Kate enters and looks a little worried.*

Kate: “How is he doing?”

Sun: “He is still dreaming. And he’s very warm, I think he’s running a fever.”

Kate: “He hasn’t been awake?”

Sun (shakes her head): “No, he hasn’t.”

Kate (little worried): “Well, I guess he’s got some catching up to do. (comforting – to herself?!) I’m sure he’ll be okay.”

*Jack becomes increasingly restless, moving his head, mumbling things we can’t understand, till*

Jack (mumbly, but very understandable) “Sarah… no…”

*Suddenly Jack opens his eyes and veers in a sitting position, staring into nowhere.*

Kate: “Jack?”

*Jack doesn’t respond, and Kate forcefully presses him back on his back. He struggles, but weakly*

Jack: “No. Sarah!”

Kate: “Jack, listen to me. Sarah… is okay. We got her to a safe place. You can go to sleep, she’ll be fine.”

*Jack calms down, and after a few seconds he’s lying still, says “Sarah” once more, and is then sleeping peacefully.*

**

*Late night. Jack wakes up; first slowly, but then he sees two feet at the entrance of the cave; he looks up and sees who it is, an angelic woman; blond hair swaying in the wind, white-white dress to her ankles – nearly radiant. In a flash Jack sits straight up in his bed wide awake.*

Jack (under his breath): “Sarah…”

*Sarah turns around and leaves the cave.*

Jack (throwing back his blankets; as loud as he dares): “Sarah, wait!”

*Jack runs out of the cave*

**

*FLASHBACK – we’re at the Shephard’s house, a nice, airy, fresh kitchen. It’s a regular morning, Jack (the shaved, long-haired version)’s getting ready for work, putting his coffee cup on the table, takes his jacket from the back of the chair and swings it on. Sarah puts down her mug of hot coffee and gets up, too, to show her husband out. They kiss on the lips, and hug, and then Jack pulls away with trouble. He puts her hair behind her ear for her, touches her cheek a second.* *the atmosphere is supberb – these two are in love - *

Jack: “Gotta go…”

Sarah: “Hm-hm. Don’t forget about tonight, okay? I made reservations at eight o’clock.”

Jack: “Of course I won’t! I never forget…”

Sarah (playfully strict): “And don’t get caught up at work.”

Jack (smiles, apologizing): “I know, I’m sorry. Look… (looking her in the eye) I’ll do everything that lies within my powers to be here, right on time, to take you out on the best date you’ve ever been on.”

Sarah (warm): “I know, honey. I know you try; I’m just teasing you.”

Jack (still feels guilty): “Just a few more months…”

Sarah (happily): “Yeah…”

*She lays her hands on her belly. Jack puts his hand over hers.*

Sarah: “Gotta go…”

Jack: “Yeah.”

Sarah (sincere): “I love you.”

Jack (radiating): “I love you, too. Bye, honey.”

*they kiss again – shortly, and Jack leaves; the door falls shut behind him.*

**

*MUSIC: the theme we heard when Jack saved Charlie (link on fanfic section) Jack emerges from the cave to just see Sarah disappear into the woods. Without thinking, he starts chasing her, half walking – half running. He manages to keep on her track because he just sees her disappear again, or just because the bushes move where she past only seconds ago. We see Sarah disappear, Jack appear and disappear after her a few times. Every now and then he will shout her name, ask her to wait; *

Jack: “Sarah, please! Sarah! Wait!”

*Jack’s sweaty, feverishly, tired, desperate. He can’t get to her. He breaks into a run, realising he can’t keep up much longer. When he finally sees her fully (from the back), he trips over something – a low branch, a root, we’re not sure. As he falls, he shouts out in pain – but somehow not that loud. As soon as he hits the ground, he looks up again and sees Sarah disappear once more. Ignoring his ankle, so focused on Sarah, he tries to scramble up – but his leg gives way. He falls flat on his face and he moans under his breath. Desperately he looks in the direction Sarah disappears in – loses sight of her white shirt again.*

Jack: “SHIT!”

*He pounds the ground angrily, then stands up slowly and more careful – grimacing with pain when he tries some of his weight on his left leg. He jumps to the nearest thin tree on his right leg and leans against it. We see a hole in his pants, as well, on his knee, and it’s kinda bloody. He can’t go on, he can’t go back – he’s stuck here for the night.

Jack: “You’re not going anywhere, Jack.”

**

*FLASHBACK. MUSIC fades quickly. Jack is in the locker room in the hospital, getting ready to leave. He has already showered and is now just finished tying his shoelaces. As he picks up his jacket from the bench, he glances at the clock. It’s 6.23 pm – perfect, he can take it easy! – and he smiles happily. The door swings open. A receptionist steps in. Jack looks up.*

Henry (receptionist): “Dr. Shephard, we need you in the OR.”

Jack (bummed): “Oh, no, I’m off. Can you please get someone else?”

Henry: “Sorry, Dr. Shephard, but we’re going to need all the surgeons we can get; there’s been a major bus-crash.”

Jack (briefly closing his eyes, then nodding): “Okay, fine. What room?”

Henry: “Three.”

Jack: “I’ll be right there.”

*Henry leaves. Jack walks to his locker and hangs his coat up in his locker again.*

Jack (to the mirror, sighing): “Looks like you’re not going anywhere, Jack.”

**

*Jack’s back in reality. He sits down by the tree slowly, carefully, then lies down on his back unhappily, then turns to lie on his left side, his head on his arm.*

Jack (choked, whispering): “I’m sorry, Sarah, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

**

*Morning. Sunny. Back at the camp Kate comes running out of the cave and sees Sayid. She runs towards him.*

Kate: “Sayid! (Sayid turns around) Jack! He’s gone!”

**

*A search party in the woods; Sayid, Locke, Kate, Charlie, Jin, Michael, Sawyer, Sun, some people we don’t know – all looking for Jack, keeping within earshot of each other.*

**

*Jack wakes up slowly from people shouting his name from a distance. He sits up and blinks against the sun, which manages to shine in his face. As he gets up on his elbow, still sleep drunk, bushes rumble and Locke steps out.*

Locke: “Morning, doctor.”

Jack (confused as to where he is): “Hi.”

*Jack looks around him, then sees Sarah standing 15 feet away. His eyes open wider, as he remembers what happened. He is half/sitting half resting on his elbow in a second. He is already opening his mouth when he remembers Locke’s presence, and quickly averts his eyes and closes his mouth. Locke casts a glance in the direction Jack looked in, but sees nothing but bushes.*

Locke: “You okay, son?”

Jack (absent, sensing Sarah but not daring to look in her direction again; we see a white blurred spot in the background): “Yeah… uhm… my ankle… I twisted my ankle. I couldn’t get back to the camp.”

Locke: “Let’s get you back, then. (shouts) Found him!”

*Locke offers Jack a hand and helps him on his foot. Carefully testing his ankle, Jack squints his eyes in pain again. Just as he puts his arm around Locke’s shoulder for support, Kate emerges, immediately followed by Sayid and some others.*

Kate (happy, concerned): “Jack! You okay? What happened?”

*Sayid takes Jack’s other arm.*

Sayid: “Later, Kate, we must get him back to the camp first.”

*As they leave the scene, Jack carefully casts another glance in Sarah’s direction. She’s gone.*

**

*FLASHBACK. Jack enters the OR, a lot of nurses, peeping; someone helps him in a shirt.*

Jack: “Okay, what have we got here?”

Assistant 1: “Casualty from bus-accident; 34-year-old male; fractured … , …, pulse…(sorry, guys, I know nothing of medicine – wanna help out, let me know)”

Jack: “Okay, get me ….”

*Jack sets to work; a lot of serious terms are being said over the table – (I’m really sorry)*

**

*FLASHBACK. Jack glances at the clock: 6.42. Time to notify the wife.*

Jack: “Trisha?”

Trisha: “Yes, doctor?”

Jack: “Can you please do all you possibly can to get someone to take over from me? And call my wife and tell her I got caught up at work a little, after all? I’ll call her as soon as I can?”

Trisha: “I’m on it.”

Jack: “And ehm… can you tell her I’m sorry?”

Trisha (faint smile): “I’m on it, Doc.”

*Trisha leaves the room, Jack keeps on working.*

**

*Jack sits in the grass near the cave. Sun’s putting a bandage around his ankle. He winces. Kate sits by him, crouched.*

Kate: “So, what happened? What were you doing out there?”

Jack (making up as he goes along, avoiding looking at Kate as much as possible): “I don’t know… ehm… I… must’ve been sleepwalking. (tries to smile as if it’s nothing) Guess I was dreaming.”

Kate: “What was it about?”

Jack: “I don’t know... I don’t remember.”

*It seems as if Kate knows he’s lying, – Jack feels guilty. Just as Kate opens her mouth to ask something else, Jack winces. Sun looks up apologizing.*

Kate: “Can I get you something for the pain?”

Jack: “No, that’s okay. We might need all that later, for something more serious. I’ll be okay.”

Sun: “This is done. How is your fever?”

Jack (surprised): “I don’t have a fever.”

Sun (smiling): “Okay, than that is good. I will go make you something for the pain, okay?”

Jack (smiles friendly): “Thanks, Sun.”

*Sun takes the stuff she used back to the cave, later we’ll see her head towards her weed garden in the background as Jack and Kate talk – all sort of awkward since Jack’s rather absent and uncomfortable.*

Kate (hesitantly): “So... how are you feeling?”

Jack (as if it’s nothing): “Oh, I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

Kate: “I don’t mean you’re ankle.”

Jack: “Alright, well… kinda confused. How long was I out? I mean, here.”

Kate: “You fell asleep yesterday night – I mean, the one before that. Ehm… you’ve been sleeping for, what, 30 something hours, I guess.”

Jack: “I missed an entire day? Why didn’t you wake me?”

Kate (‘duh’-tone): “Because you needed your sleep? And (careful)… you were dreaming then, too. You kept on saying this name, Sarah. Who is she?”

Jack (startled, then shrugs as if he doesn’t care): “Oh, ehm… I don’t know. I… don’t know any Sarahs. Didn’t I say “Sally”, and you heard me wrong?”

*Kate knows he’s lying, senses he doesn’t want to talk about it, and decides not to push now; maybe later.*

Kate: “Yeah, I guess that’s it. Well, you didn’t miss out on anything, anyway, nothing special happened. Didn’t miss any boats, or planes, or monster…(s)”

*’painful mistake’, Kate thinks as she briefly closes her eyes, because what killed Sally? Jack doesn’t seem to be affected, though – he doesn’t even seem to have heard. As Kate looks at him again, Jack’s staring into nowhere. As Kate looks in that direction, too, Jack ‘awakes’ with a sudden sigh.*

Jack: “Yeah, well… anything I can do?”

Kate (airy): “Nope. Just rest that leg, I guess.”

Jack: “Can you grab me something for a walking stick?”

Kate (nods): “Yeah, sure. Just a sec.”

*Kate walks over to the firewood-stock, looks for and finds a long branch; it’ll reach up to Jack’s hip orso.*

Kate: “This’ll do?”

Jack: “Yeah, thanks.”

*Jack extends his hand and Kate helps him up. Taking the stick from her, he starts to walk.*

Kate: “Where are you going?”

Jack: “Ehm… I don’t know, eh, just to sit somewhere in the shadow. Or find something useful to do with my hands.”

Kate: “Okay… well, just shout if you need anything. And you’d better wait for Sun, first, right?”

Jack (staring again): “What?”

Kate (casting a glance in that direction, too, but seeing nothing): “The painkiller?”

Jack (remembering): “Oh, yeah, right, of course.”

**

*FLASHBACK. Trisha enters again.*

Trisha: “Sorry, doctor, everyone’s still busy right now, it’s chaos. But Ryan promised he’ll be here as soon as possible – he thinks he’ll be done soon.”

Jack: “Okay. And my wife?”

Trisha: “She said… (short laugh) “no desert for you if you’re late.”

*everyone laughs.*

**

*Jack’s sitting on a trunk, still plagued – maybe this guy’s problem is he thinks too much -.*

Locke: “For how many things do you seek redemption, Jack?”

*We see Locke is standing behind Jack – out of nowher?!*

Jack (startled): “John! (questioningly) What?”

Locke: “Who were you chasing this time?”

Jack (looks away, bummed that Locke knows): “Look, John, I appreciate you came to look for me, but… I told you to stay away from me.”

Locke: “Yes, you did.”

*Silence, as Jack expects Locke to leave, and Locke stands still. Jack ignores him.*

Locke: “You can’t let go, can you?”

*Jack sighs unbelieving – is this guy really going to talk to him?! He’ll just have to listen, right?*

Locke: “Tell you what, Jack. You’re going to have to learn. Can’t have those demons haunt you all your life.”

Jack: “John…”

Locke: “Whoever you’re chasing’s running from you because you make them, Jack. ‘Cause you don’t really want to face them, do you? You’d rather… carry on and pretend you’ve dealt with them already. But that’s not working, now is it?”

Jack (defensive): “You don’t know the first thing about me, John.”

Locke: “Well, from that look on your face I’d say I’m getting close enough. … You’re going to have to face them, Jack. You’re going to have to look them in the eye and recognize the truths and the lies they represent, and then deal with them.”

Jack (mocking): “What? Is that my destiny…?”

Locke (nearly cuts in): “You have to find that something (whatever it is) that’ll make you realise that you don’t have to do this. (He gets more exited with every clause following;) That you don’t have to punish yourself, that things are not your responsibility, that you - are not - to blame. … And - you can do that, Jack. You got what it takes.”

Jack (as if bitten by a snake): “What? (he stands up, grimaces, but this is too important and he composes himself immediately)

Locke (takes a step towards Jack): “You okay?””

Jack (raises his hand in a ‘stop’ sign; Locke halts;): “What did you just say?”

Locke (confused): “I said, “you can do it.””

Jack: “No, I meant after that. (closing his eyes, barely audible, to himself:) I can’t have this right now. (to Locke) Get away from me, Locke.”

Locke: “Do you think…”

Jack (cuts in, looking up, confusion in his face, loud): “Get the hell away from me, now.”

Locke (hands in the air in surrender): “Okay. I’m gone already.”

*Jack stares after him until he vanishes from sight.*

**

*FLASHBACK. Another surgeon enters the OR.*

Doctor Ryan: “How are we doing, Jack?”

Jack: “We’re getting towards the end – he’ll make it.”

Doctor Ryan: “So you leave the honours for me, ay? Sorry it took me so long to get here; it was worse than I thought.”

Jack: “It’s okay, thanks a lot. I’ll be on time. Good luck.”

*Jack leaves the OR. He takes off his gloves and throws them away, glancing at the clock. 7.04. He rushes to one of the receptionists;*

Jack: “Henry, can you please call my wife and tell her to meet me at the restaurant?”

Henry: “Sure.”

Jack (already running): “Thanks!”

**

*Locke bumps into Kate, who is on her way to Jack.*

Kate: “Hi.”

Locke: “Hiya, Kate. Ehm… you planning to see Jack?”

Kate: “Yes, I am.”

Locke: “Well… I advise you against it.”

Kate (suspicious, worried): “Why? You talked to him?”

Locke: “He’s busy right now.”

Kate: “Busy with what?”

Locke: “Dealing.”

*Kate looks in the direction Jack must be in, doubting*

Locke (full of trust): “He’ll be fine, Kate. ”

*Locke walks on, leaving Kate to think for a few seconds. Then she casts another glance in the direction she wanted to take, and turns around, back to the caves.*

**

*The woods. Jack’s still lost in memory. Sarah emerges from the bushes. He doesn’t notice her.*

Sarah (soft, angelic voice): “Jack.”

*Jack looks up with a start. MUSIC STARTS AGAIN.*

Jack: “Sarah…”

Sarah: “Follow me, Jack.”

*Sarah smiles loving, then turns around and walks away. But this time, she walks patiently, waiting, so Jack can keep up with her, yet not catch up with her.*

**

*FLASHBACK. It’s dusking. Jack rushes into the parking lot, ‘peeping’ open his car. His watch says: 7.16. As he opens his car door, Henry comes running towards him;*

Henry: “Jack!”

Jack (superbummed, to himself): “Oh, no. Please, no.”

*Henry arrives at the car, looking extremely grave. Jack is worried immediately;*

Henry: “You’d better come inside, doc.”

Jack (getting out of the car): “What? What’s going on?”

*Henry looks grave;*

Henry: “I… when I tried to call her…”

Jack (super worried) “Sarah.... ?”

*Henry nods carefully.*

Henry: “I’m sorry, doc.”

Jack: “You’re sorry? Sorry for what?”

*Henry gives him an extremely sad, grave look.*

Henry: “A cop answered the phone, Jack… She… (falls silent)”

Jack (impatiently): “Where is she? Is she here?”

Henry: “No…it’s… she’s…”

Jack (impatiently, wet-wet eyes): “What, Henry? What? Where is she?”

Henry (troubled): “She’s at the crime scene, Jack. She’s at home.”

Jack (unbelieving, tears escape him, soft): “No….. no….. no…..”

*Jack turns around and wants to step into his car; Henry stops him.*

Henry: “I’ll drive you.”

Jack (shakes his head): “No, I’m driving.”

*He steps in and makes his wheels squeak as he gets out of the parking lot, leaving Henry to stand there.*

**

*Jack arrives in their street – two police cars in front of their house, lights on, and a crowd. He pulls over roughly – half on the sidewalk – jumps out, and runs across the lawn, dives under the ‘crime scene’ tape; and is stopped by an officer.* *The music is dominant over the spoken texts, which are sort of muffled, as if in a haze.*

Officer: “No entry…”

Jack (interrupting): “She’s my wife.”

*The officer lets him go, Jack rushes into the house, into the kitchen that was so beautiful still that morning… and what he finds there… we see his face, horrid, as he stares down at unbelief, not noticing the officers in the kitchen, the photo-taking, or anything else. He just stares down at Sarah, his wife, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to do anything but shake all over, and look, and cry, and produce an inaudible moan. Then he falls on his knees.
Shot from straight above – only now do we see Sarah. She lies on the floor – the white tiles – in a weird angle, in a beautiful white dress. It is smeared with blood; there is blood all over her (and a trace leading to somewhere else in the house). But the most – on her belly. Jack touches her; frantically, shaking his head in denial, crying; her head, her belly… a cop pulls away his hands, he struggles. *

Jack (top of his voice): “My WIFE!”

*the cop lets him go and he puts his hand on her forehead, then puts a lock of hair behind her ear.*

Jack (softly, choked): “Sarah… Sarah…”

*camera retreating – music fades as…*

**

*The woods. Dusk. Jack is stumbling (painfully every now and then) after Sarah, who keeps in front of him by a few feet – still he can’t get to her.*

Jack (murmur): “Sarah…” (doubtful as always): “Sarah, wait up. (then, suddenly determined, reflecting on Locke’s words;) Sarah, stop! I want to talk to you.”

*Smiling, Sarah halts, turns around, and reaches Jack her hand. Ultimately surprised, he stands still for two seconds. Then he ‘steps’ forward and takes it. They take a turn and enter a small open place in the woods, where a dead tree lies, perfect to sit on (very conveniently). Sarah leads Jack to it and they have a seat opposite each other.*

Jack (looking at her closely, unbelieving, enchanted): “You… you’re beautiful.”

Sarah (smiles, reaches out a hand to stroke his cheek, then teasing): “You should shave, honey.”

*They laugh, a sincere, warm, silent laugh. We see Jack’s eyes light up. We haven’t seen him like this on the island before. For a while they simply enjoy each other’s company in silence. Jack keeps on looking at Sarah unbelieving, fascinated. The mood gets more serious. Finally, he speaks, though it’s somewhat painful to start this conversation.* *music starts – ‘answer’ by Sarah MacLachlan’ ***

Jack: “Why are you here?”

Sarah (angelic, soft, warm voice): “You know why I’m here, Jack.”

*Jack looks at her in silence, nodding, his eyes get a little wet, somehow seeming to accept the truth.*

Jack (with trouble): “You’re here to say good-bye.”

Sarah (same way as before): “Yes… (shakes her head lovingly;) n much more.”

*we move backwards – we can’t hear what they’re saying anymore, (instrumental intro)*

**

*Music continues. It’s dark, people sit around the fire, Locke is standing off a bit, sharpening his knives. Kate runs op to him, angrily.*

Kate: “What did you do to him?”

**

*The woods (still music, bit louder, first more instrumental (prolonged intro?), then singing starts (simultaneously with the scene)

“I will be the answer at the end of the line.
I will be there for you, while you take your time.
In the burning of uncertainty
I will be your solid ground.
I will hold the balance if you get knocked down.” )

*Jack and Sarah, about 6 foot away from us. They talk - Sarah seems to be talking mostly. Jack laughs – sincerely. He puts her hair behind her ear, caresses her cheek. They hug; Jack holds Sarah close. We see Jack’s face. His eyes are closed. He’s crying silently (he knows it’s not real).*

**

*The caves. Music very soft in the background. (simultaneously with the scene)

“If it takes my whole life, I won’t break, I won’t bend.
It’ll all be worth it, worth it in the end.
‘s I can only tell you what I know;
that I need you in my life
when these stars have all gone out, you’ll still be burning so bright.

Cast me gently - into morning …” *

Locke (looking up innocently): “Pardon?”

Kate (very exited): “What did you say to him?”

Locke: “You’re talking about Jack?”

*He turns back to his knives. Kate moves in front of him.*

Kate: “Yes, I’m talking about Jack! He’s gone again, and you were the last person with him. Now, don’t tell me he fell asleep and started sleepwalking again. You’ve got something to do with it.”

Locke (stops his knive-thingy and looks up, still calm): “Kate…”

Kate: “What - did you - say to him?”

Locke: “I told him to deal, Kate. And that’s what he was doing when you ran into me this afternoon, and that’s probably what he’s doing right now.”

Kate (moving her head away, rolling her eyes): “Ugh…”

Locke: “I told you he’d be okay.”

Kate: “Yeah, you did, didn’t you? Well… then I’m sure everything’s alright. (getting angry, scared, fed-up with Locke’s calm) He’s limp, alone, without fire, without weapons… but I ‘m sure he’ll be just fine, right? Because all the boars, and the Others, and the monster – they’ll all leave him alone, won’t they? ‘Cause that’s what you believe, and we should all have faith.”

*People heard Kate shouting and Sayid has walked over.*

Sayid: “What’s going on?”

Locke (to Kate): “Exactly.”

Kate: “Oh, screw you. Give me that knife.”

*Kate grabs one of the knives freshly sharpened and storms off, straight past Sayid.*

Locke: “Jack’s taking a walkabout.”

Sayid: “Oh, great.”

*Sayid runs off. Locke looks after him, then goes on sharpening the knife.*

**

*The woods (still music (simultaneously with the scene)

“ - for the night has been unkind.
Take me to a – place so holy – that I can wash this from my mind
The memory of choosing not to fight

If it takes my whole life, I won’t break, I won’t bend.
It’ll all be worth it, worth it in the end.
‘s I can only tell you what I know;
that I need you in my life
when the stars have all gone out, you’ll still be burning so bright.
Cast me gently – into morning – for the night has been unkind.”

Sarah holds Jacks head in her hands, they look into each other’s eyes. Then she kisses his forehead, then his tears away, ending at the corner of his mouth. They kiss – carefully, romantically (no tongues flashing in sight or anything; this is romance!!!) Then Sarah puts her hands in Jack’s (left in right, right in left). -- The music fades into instrumental (prolonged), near the end of the scene we’ll hear the crickets again; but all this goes subtle and we barely notice it.--*

Jack (looking at Sarah, tears in his eyes): “I love you so much.”

Sarah (sincere (not just a polite answer!)): “I love you.”

*One tear down Jack’s cheek. Sarah wipes it away with her thumb, caressing his cheek again.*

Sarah (same): “I need you to do something for me.”

Jack (wet-wet eyes, nodding): “Okay… what?”

Sarah (calm as always): “Accept, Jack. Accept that, sometimes, there is no answer. That, sometimes, there is nothing you can do. Don’t be so angry, Jack, don’t be angry with yourself, with the world. Sometimes, you have to have some faith. And… let it go.”

Jack (choking, looking down): “I don’t know if I can do that, Sarah.”

Sarah (lifting up his chin, looking him in the eye, smiling, confident): “But I do, Jack, I know you can. And I’ll be there, right there. But you have to let me go – you have to let us go.”

*Jack starts crying, really, crying, and half shaking / half nodding his head. He says ‘okay’ inaudibly.*

**

*Sayid, Jin, Charlie and Sawyer catch up with Kate. They’ve got guns, knives, and fire.*

Sayid: “Any sight of him yet?”

Kate: “No, but his tracks are easy to follow.”

*She pauses for two seconds, points at a hole in the ground, caused by a walking stick, and walks on. She is followed directly by Sawyer, behind him Charlie, then Sawyer, and, finally, Jin.*

Sayid: “We should be able to find him; we’re much faster than he is right now.”

Sawyer: “Yeah, unless he got some help.”

Charlie: “Shut up, man.”

Sawyer: “Hey, I’m just being realistic here. He was lucky last night, but…”

Kate (stopped walking, turned around, cuts in shouting): “Shut up, Sawyer!”

*She walks on again.*

Sawyer (insulted (?)): “Alright, fine. Not another word out of me.”

*Silence as they all walk and ponder.*

**

Sarah: “You have to go now, honey.”

Jack: “No…”

Sarah (sad but determined): “Yes.”

*Jack looks down sadly, in pain. He doesn’t want to go (duh). He nods barely noticeable. His head goes up again, and his wet eyes open when he’s facing Sarah. She caresses his cheek (again, yes), trailing his tears again.*

Sarah (warm, loving, smiling): “Good-bye, Jack.”

*Jack nods. He opens his mouth (to say good-bye)…*

**

Sawyer: “So, ehm, we gonna do this all night?”

*irritated general sigh*

Sayid (unpatiently): “Yes, if we have to, we will.”

Kate (angry): “Why don’t you go back to the camp if you don’t want to help?”

Sawyer (playful): “Hon! You’d send me into the jungle by myself, in the dark?”

Kate: “You? Any day, Sawyer.”

*Jin looks at Sawyer – even he’s getting it. They all walk on, but Sayid’s standing still, in their ways.*

Sayid: “Kate, wait. I hear something.*

*Silence as they all listen. It’s coming from the right. Fire pointed there, guns and knives at hand they wait. Kate determined, Sayid frowning, Charlie somewhat scared, Sawyer ready to shoot, Jin intensely listening.*

Kate (suddenly): “It’s Jack.”

*She darts forward before anyone can stop her, and they have no choice but to follow her. Indeed she’s right, it’s Jack coming towards them. Relieved everyone puts their weapon away again.*

Kate (worried, angry, strict): “Jack, what the hell are you doing out here!”

Jack (ehm…): “Taking a walk?”

Charlie: “In the middle of the bloody night?”

Sawyer: “You gonna pull this every night, man?”

*Sayid looks at him to shut him up – Sawyer gets the hint.*

Jack (relaxed, determined, happy): “No, Sawyer, I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

Sayid (calm, informing): “What happened, Jack?”

Jack: “I… I had to… … … I had to do something.”

*Kate and Jack exchange looks – Kate tries to understand. Jack smiles faintly.*

Sawyer: “Well, we hit the jackpot, now let’s get back.”

*Sayid and Kate move to support Jack*

Jack: “No, that’s okay – I think I’m faster this way.

Charlie: “Are you alright, mate?”

Jack (thinks, then nods carefully): “Yeah… I think I will be.”

*Camera moves backwards, upwards, as they start their journey back to the caves.*

**

*Jack sits near the fire, watching the flames. Kate sits next to him. No one else around. Flames illuminate their faces.*

Kate: “You really scared us, you know.”

Jack: “Yeah… I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.”

Kate: “It’s okay… I’m just glad you’re back.”

Jack: “Me too. (thoughtful silence) (somehow, he decides…) Sarah… (he addresses the flames;) She was my wife.”

Kate (shocked to hear he’ s married, then sensing the ‘was’ thing): “Was?”

Jack: “She died.”

Kate (careful, thinking Jack wants to tell her): “What happened?”

Jack (ignoring her): “I ehm… I followed her through the jungle. I talked to her. I know it sounds crazy – it is.”

Kate (patient, understanding): “No… it isn’t. What did she tell you?”

Jack (smiling faintly): “A lot. A lot of good things. When she died… I blamed myself for not being there. You know, for not… being able to save her ‘n… (puts on a story-telling tone; gets more emotional towards the end, eyes get wet, voice gets choky) We were supposed to celebrate our anniversary. Nothing fancy, just a dinner. I was running late (as always). And… while I was busy in the OR, she got ready for the evening, and… she must’ve heard something downstairs, she must’ve thought I was home, so she went downstairs, and… (soft) she ran into whoever was breaking into our house, and… and he shot her… in her abdomen… he - shot her child. Our child. And… they died.”

*silence*

Kate (passionate, wet eyes herself): “That’s a terrible story, Jack.”

Jack (nods, but getting himself together): “Yeah… it is, but… today… (with some actual faith in his voice!) I’m gonna be okay. Not today, but…”

*Camera moves away, tracing some fire-thingeys that go up. We hear the fire, we hear crickets, the wind. We hear the theme – softly – as we see a home video of Jack and Sarah dance, at their wedding. We see Jack is ultimately happy, radiating with love. And Sarah – an angelic woman, radiant as well.*

Jack (voice-over, when we see his happy face): “… I will be…”
(when we see Sarah’s face): “… okay.”

**

Falling Apart

Thu, 20 Jul 2006 23:09:49 GMT

Title: Falling Apart (1/1)
Category: General
Genre: Angst
Characters: Jack (centric), Kate, Sawyer, Sun. Sayid, Locke, and Charlie have a few lines, too.
Place in Lost's Timeline: Shortly after Boone's death.
Rating: PG or PG13
Summary: Jack falls apart
Disclaimer: If I'd own them, there'd be mass suicide going on. Don't own the music referred to, either.
Author's notes: Script style. The theme song mentioned is that wonderful piece of music we heard repeatedly on the show;http://www.lostlinks.net/audio&video.htm - lost themes - pick one.

The character Sally Rafflethorpe was one of the survivors of the middle section of flight 815. We know because of her message in the bottle. Thanks to http://lost.cubit.net -- sledgeweb’s lost stuff.

Falling Apart

**

*Kate is looking for seeds orso for Sun’s garden, when suddenly we hear something approaching through the woods rapidly. Kate is on her feet immediately and looks around her. She is obviously considering whether she should run away, but before she does Vincent comes running out of the bushes, barking as he sees her. Kate kneels beside him and strokes him, worried.*

Kate: “What’s going on, buddy?”

*Kate looks up as another something comes running through the bushes. It’s Sawyer, carrying Sally. She is out cold and there’s blood all over her and Sawyer. Kate looks at them in horror*

Sawyer: “Warn Jack we’re coming!”

*Kate nods and after another second of staring she runs off.*

**

*Jack is just coming out of the cave, Kate runs towards him from behind and shouts.*

Kate (little bit out of breath): “Jack!”

*Jack (obviously) turns around. In the background, so does Hurley. Jack immediately senses something serious is going on. He asks Kate what’s going on with his eyes.*

Kate: “Sawyer’s bringing a woman in. She looked bad.”

Jack: “Who is it?”

Kate: “I… I believe her name’s Sally.”

* Jack rushes back to the cave to prepare, Kate follows him.*

Jack: “What happened?”

Kate: “I don’t know. But she’s bleeding.”

Jack: “Get Sun, will you?”

*Kate nods and runs off (to the weed garden).*

**

*Outside, as Kate disappears, Sawyer emerges. People look up shocked. Hurley approaches Sawyer.*

Hurley: “Shit, dude, what’s going on?”

Sawyer: “Get out of the way, curly. (near the cave) And keep the crowd out.”

**

*Sawyer enters the cave with Sally in his arms.*

Sawyer: “Hey.”

Jack (looks up, shocked and extremely concerned): “Oh, shit.”

*From this moment on we sense Jack is in extreme distress; as all his past failures seem to come back to him.*

Sawyer: “This is not good, man.”

Jack: “Put her down. Carefully. (as they lay her down and Jack glances over her) What happened?”

Sawyer: “I don’t know, man. Just found her.”

*Jack tears open the hole in her shirt further and finds the biggest wound; it is beginning low on her right side and ending near her navel. He checks for pulse (neck) and breathe.*

Jack: “How long has she been out like this?” (puts her head right for mouth-to-mouth)

Sawyer: “I don’t know! She still seemed to breathe when I found her.”

Jack (performing CPR): “She seemed to breathe?”

Sawyer: “Hey, I’m not a doctor! First thing I thought was get her over…”

*Kate and Sun rush in. Time slows down; Jack performs CPR and looks more and more desperate; theme song; Sun gets alcohol, bandages and everything from the cart, Kate seems to takes –for us inaudible – order and puts pressure on the wound. Her eyes seem wet. Sun gets out the alcohol and puts it on. Sawyer stands there completely lost and puzzled and worried (there’s not much he can do anyway), just keeping out of the way. Time moves back up to normal speed. theme song fades.*

Jack: (counting the times he performs the CPR-push on Sally’s chest): 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 –

*Jack performs mouth-to-mouth again, listens for breath, feels for pulse. He closes his eyes in relief.*

Kate: “Is she breathing?”

Jack (nods): “But barely. We need to get that wound stitched up, now. And she needs blood. Sawyer, what’s your blood type?”

Sawyer: “I don’t know, man, sorry.”

Jack: “Kate?”

Kate (as if she might cry): “B negative.”

Jack (still at the CPR): “No good. Sun, get me two of those urchin needles, and the tube.”

Sawyer: “But who will…”

Jack (cuts in): “I will.”

Sun (hesitates): “Jack, I don’t think you should do that again.”

Jack (aggravated, looking Sun in the face): “Do you think we have time to look for another donor? Get me that stuff, Sun.

*Sun keeps her peace and gets it. Jack turns to Kate.*

Jack: “Kate, can you perform CPR?”

Kate (nodding, soft): “Yeah.”

Jack: “Than you watch her breathing.”

*Kate nods again with a look on Sun. Sawyer takes Kate’s place, briefly laying his hand on hers as he takes over the pressure bandage. Kate starts CPR. Jack puts in the needles for transfusion. Sun looks at the scene for a few seconds.*

Jack (seeing the blood’s starting to run through the tube; broken voice): “Sun, will you stitch up that wound?”

*All notice Jack’s voice trembling. He looks wildly desperate, near to breaking down. He’s turning pale again.*

Sun: “Jack… I think she’s lost too much blood already.”

Jack (rather soft, scared, in denial): “No!”

Kate: “Jack…”

Jack: “What!”

Kate (looking up with a tear running down each cheek): “There’s nothing…”

*Jack shakes his head, eyes closed, in utter despair.*

Jack (tear-stricken voice): “Then make it something again, Kate!”

Sun: “Jack…”

Sawyer: “Is she dead?”

Jack (loud, scared, tears in his eyes): “No! She will not die!”

Sun: “Jack…”

*Kate ceases CPR.*

Jack (tears in his eyes): “Come on, Kate, don’t stop.”

Kate: “Jack… (sniffs) it’s no use. She’s gone.”

Jack (desperate): “No, no… no… come on guys, don’t give up now. Sun! Come on, stitch up that wound.”

*Sun looks grieving at him.*

Sun (choking): “She is gone, Jack.”

Jack: “Kate? (begging) Kate, please.”

Kate (crying): “I’m sorry.”

*Jack closes his eyes and shakes his head in despair. He nods his head then, looks to the ceiling, trying to accept.*

Jack: “We could… we should…”

Sawyer: “The girl’s dead, man.”

*Silence. Tension. Everyone grievingly observes Jack, who is staring into nowhere now. Sun carefully approaches him and removes the needle from his arm. Jack ‘wakes up; looks at Suns face, then his arm, then Sally’s arm, and Sally’s face. He starts shifting on his feet, restless.*

Jack: (feverish, soft) “No… (looking at Sun) this can’t… I need to… (barely audible) try…”

*Jack takes some confused steps to the cart. He gives it somewhat of a kick. Then he leans his hands on it and bends over it. He is shaking all over. Kate and Sun look very worried at him and exchange looks. Sawyer raises his eyebrows frowning. Even he senses that ‘this ain’t right.’*

Kate (walking): “Jack… are you alright?”

Jack (sarcastically): “Yeah, Kate, I’m fine, just fine. Aren’t we all fine? Isn’t everything perfectly fine?”

Sawyer: “Hey, man, the girl’s just trying to… (be nice?--)”

*We don’t hear what Saywer says next, because Jack kicks the cart very hard, making much noise. It seems he’s lost it; kicking the cart again and again.*

Kate (nearly crying): “Jack, stop it! STOP IT!”

*Jack takes a pause and rests his hands on the cart again – still shaking. Sawyer has moved over to him again and lays a hand on his shoulder.*

Sawyer: “Hey, man, calm down.”

Jack (shaking off the hand): “Get lost, Sawyer!”

*Jack has let go of the cart and kicks it again. It rolls backwards, things fall of, it hits the nearest rock. Kate turns her head away, looking painful. Jack wipes of the things still lying on it with his hands. Sawyer tries to grab him, but Jack hits him blindly, hitting his nose. Sawyer falls backwards to the floor as his nose starts bleeding. Kate wants to go to his aid.*

Sawyer: “Get someone!”

*As Sawyer gets up (painfully, he fell hard!), Jack tears out a drawer by the handle, making the contents fall on the ground. He throws the drawer away hard, making it crash on a rock. Then he simply takes up the cart (using the space where the top drawer used to be) and pushes it over. Bottles break.*

Sun (looking scared, guarding Sally): “Jack, please…”

*Kate comes back with Locke and Sayid. (Sawyer’s just standing again (they were fast)) They notice Sally and are shocked, but then Jack’s rage -- still vending his frustration on the cart, kicking with the sole of his shoe -- distracts them from her. Sayid and Locke look at each other for a second and then approach him. Jack stands with his back towards them. Suddenly they both grab one of his arms (Sayid left, Locke right), holding him in between them. There’s somewhat of a struggle, but the two men are much stronger than the one. They bend his arms towards his back and force him to his knees. Jack seems to calm down (no way to go), and they let him go. He bends over, resting on his hands again. There he sits a few seconds, breathing heavily. He stands up again.*

Jack (sarcastic and desperate (yes)): “Fine. You know what? (to Kate) You be the doctor from now on. I’m sure you’ll be a great one. Don’t forget to call the time of death, okay? (looking at Sayid) And you be the so-called leader of this club. You be the one that everyone comes to with all of their problems. ‘Cause you know what? I sure as hell am not… a leader.”

Sayid (calming tone): “Jack, you need to calm down.”

Jack (ultrashort sarcastic laugh): “No, Sayid, I need for you not to follow me out.”

*Jack leaves. Kate wants to follow him. THE MUSIC ENDS WHEN SAYID SPEAKS*

Sayid: “Kate?”

*Kate looks at him*

Sayid: “Leave him be for a while.”

*Kate looks at the exit of the cave – then decides against going. She, Sun, Sawyer, Sayid and Locke stand in the middle of the ‘ruins’. After a short thoughtful silence Sun starts looking for something to cover up the body with, her face still wet. Everyone comes back to life.

Locke (to Sawyer): “Hey!” (throws him a piece of cloth to put on his nose, for which he has used the back of his hand until now.)

Sawyer (murmurs): “Yeah, thanks.”

Locke: “Who was this girl?”

Kate: “Sally Rafflethorpe. I… I didn’t really know her.”

Sayid: “What happened to her?”

*As Sayid looks at Kate, Kate looks at Sawyer, and Sayid and Locke look at Sawyer as well.*

Sawyer: “I found her in the woods, bleeding like shit. Thought she was dead already at first, but then she made some sound orso. Didn’t see anyone or anything else around, though, so I just took her and brought her here.”

Sayid (nodding approvingly): “Well done.”

Sawyer: “Yeah, well, if Jumping Jack’s gonna freak out like this every time someone ‘round here goes up to heaven, I might leave the next one I find out there.”

Kate (disapproving): “Sawyer!”

Sawyer: “Well, come on, man, the guy’s lost it. Looked like he’s in need of a doctor himself. A head doctor, that is. He ain’t gonna be playing shepherd to any of us anymore, if you ask me.”

*Silence*

Sayid: “Sawyer’s right. We must give Jack the time to rest and get himself back together. I suggest we take over from him, at least for now. Sun, you know quite a lot about medicine, don’t you?”

Sun (a little bit insecure): “Yes. I… I can try to take over, but I don’t think I can do it alone. I am not that good.”

Sayid (nods): “Okay. I know one or two things myself, and there are bound to be others who have some knowledge. We’ll ask around.”

Kate: “Well… I can stitch.”

Sawyer: “And deliver babies.”

(*this joke is taken the good way by everyone*)

Locke (trying cheerful): “Alright then, let’s get this mess cleaned up.”

*they get to work.*

**

*It’s getting dark. As Kate emerges from the cave, Charlie approaches her immediately.*

Charlie: “What the hell happened? Who was that? What’s with Jack?”

Kate: “Please, Charlie, not now. Where did he go?”

*Charlie points in a general direction. Kate runs off.*

Charlie (to himself): “aren’t we a cheery crowd today.”

*Sayid, Locke, Sawyer and Sun come out, too, in the background as Charlie speaks.*

Sayid: “Okay, everybody, calm down. Listen up…”

**

*Jack sits with his back against a tree, pondering, seemingly. Kate approaches him.*

Jack (calmly): “Leave me alone.”

Kate: “Jack…”

Jack (looking up, louder): “Kate, go away!”

Kate: “I can’t do that, Jack. I think you’ve been out here by yourself long enough now. What are you doing out here anyway? – just torturing yourself.”

*Silence*

Kate (sudden): “It’s not your fault, Jack. (Jack makes a ‘yeah, sure’ sound). You did everything you possibly could.”

Jack (looking up): “Yeah, well, that wasn’t good enough, was it? So tell me, Kate, how does that help anyone?”

Kate: “Jack, stop that. I know…we’ve been asking too much of you. But you’ve been asking way to much of yourself, as well. You need to stop feeling responsible for every single thing that goes wrong on this island. There’re 45 people here, Jack, you can’t take care of every one of them. You need to start taking care of yourself. I mean… look at you, Jack! You barely sleep. And… what happened just now… if things don’t change, soon, you’re gonna have a mental breakdown.”

Jack (trying not to get dramatic): “Wow. You’re really taking this doctor-thing seriously, aren’t you?”

Kate (aggravated): “You don’t have to be a doctor to see this, Jack! You need to get some rest, and get yourself back together. We’ll take over…”

Jack: “There is no other doctor, Kate!”

*Theme starts in background*

Kate: “No, there isn’t. But there’s Sun… and Sayid knows a lot of stuff as well, and, well… we’re just gonna have to manage without a doctor for a while!”

Jack: “Kate, I need to be there! What if something else happens? And… I need to be there for people. Some people – they’ve poured out their hearts to me, they trust me! You think they’ll repeat it to Sun just like that? I need to…”

Kate (cuts in): “Jack! Have you been listening to me? This is NOT something I’m asking you! This is NOT your choice anymore! WE have made this decision for you, Jack! You are now, officially, fired from your position as a doctor! And… if we have to tie you to a bed, that’s fine, but you are going to get some rest!”

Jack (shot silence, seemingly breaking down): “I can’t, Kate. this… I can’t do this anymore. I don’t… I don’t have what it takes.”

*Kate sits down next to him*

Kate (calming): “You don’t have to be strong all the time, Jack.”

Jack (desperate): “But I DO! You really don’t get it, do you, Kate? These people… they need someone to be strong for them. Someone to tell them it’ll be okay…. Someone to give them hope. And... if I fall apart – do you know what that’ll do to them? To their hope?”

Kate: “And what about you, Jack? You’re not – superman. Why do you ask this of yourself?! Why do you have to be the one person on this island who can handle it all by himself?”

Jack: “Because… because that is just the way it is, Kate. Because that is just… who I need to be.”

Kate: “No, Jack, you don’t. … Let it go, Jack. Let it go. It’ll be okay.”

*Jack shakes his head unbelieving.*

Kate: “Somehow… eventually, it’ll be okay.”

*She leans into him, he lets her. Music louder – other sounds are not audible anymore. Camera draws back, rises.*

**

*(still the music) The congregation sitting together, round a fire. Sayid’s standing, talking to them. The camera moves across some faces in the crowd – First Sayid, Locke, Sawyer, Sun and Jin holding her; then Charlie and Claire, shocked but together, Rose, Michael and Shannon (with Vincent in between), and Hurley, then back to Sayid as he speaks. He points at Sun first. Then, to Locke, then himself, then (with a little hesitation) to Sawyer. He pauses for a second as he sees Kate and Jack emerging from the woods – Kate sort of supporting Jack. Then he talks on, pretending he didn’t see anything, giving them the chance to pass by unnoticed to the cave. The camera rises as Jack and Kate disappear into the cave and the group sits around the fire.*

**

Temptation

Thu, 20 Jul 2006 22:26:53 GMT

Title: Temptation (1/1)
Category: General
Genre: Angst
Characters: Charlie (centric), Jack, Sayid, Claire
Place in Lost's Timeline: After Charlie and Sayid'd found the Mary statues.
Rating: PG or PG13
Summary: Charlie is tempted.
Disclaimer: Be glad, for I don't own them - thei'r JJ and the lot's.
Author's notes: This was my very first fanfic - surprisingly not Jack- but Charlie-centric! It's in script style.

Temptation

**

Night at the caves. Silence. Charlie twists and turns; he can’t sleep. Eventually he leaves the camp. Jack notices. Charlie has a ‘Mary’ in his hand.

**
NOTE; Charlie does not look Jack in the eyes in this scene!

Charlie sits with his back against a rock, relaxed. His hand rests on the Mary beside him on his right. We hear bushes. Something is coming… (scary music)?! It’s Jack; he walks towards Charlie from the left, but Charlie doesn’t hear or notice in another way.

Jack: “Charlie.”
*Charlie startles*

Charlie (Charlie speaks slowly and deliberate): “Jack! … What are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”

Jack: “I saw you leave but not coming back. Just making sure you’re okay.”

Charlie: “You needn’t have worried, Jack. I – am – per – fect – ly – fine! Con-sidering our circumstances, of course.”

*Jack gives Charlie a look that tells us he knows he’s high*

Jack (friendly, pretended relaxed): “Okay, I’m glad. But ehm, what are you doing out here, anyway?”

Charlie: “Oh, I couldn’t sleep. Thought I might think a few thoughts.”

*Jack smiles politely and doubts whether or not to ask about what, but he decides against it.*

Jack. “So, ehm, you coming back to the camp?”

Charlie: “Ehm, no, not yet.”

Jack: “Not done thinking, ha?”

Charlie: “Exactly.”

Jack: “Okay, well, take care.”

* Jack leaves*

Charlie (absent): “Yeah, you too.”

**

*Following day, sun brightly shining. Charlie stands watching Claire and Aaron. Jack walks up to him.*

Jack: “Charlie, can I talk to you for a sec?”

Charlie (wondering): “Yeah, sure”

Jack: “Follow me.”

*They walk towards Jack’s ‘practice’. *

**

*inside the ‘practice’ case.”

Jack (pointing to rocks): “Have a seat.”

*Charlie sits down on a rock, Jack sits down on some suitcase or whatever opposite.*

Charlie (little bit worried): “So, what’s this about? Something wrong? Are you worried about the baby?”

Jack: “No, this isn’t about the baby, it’s about you. (sighs) You were high last night, weren’t you?”

Charlie (uh-oh): “High? … High on what, then? Cause I distinctively remember burning my stash – with John.”

Jack: “I know about the plane, Charlie.”

Charlie (playing ignorant): “What plane?”

Jack: “The one with the heroin, the one you and Sayid encountered when getting the baby back.”

Charlie: “right, that plane. (played insulted) And you don’t believe that it just might be possible that I…”

Jack (cuts in): “Don’t lie to me, Charlie.”

*Charlie briefly looks Jack in the eye, then looks down again. *

*Silence.*

Jack: “Look, you’re a grown man and I can’t tell you what and what not to do. But, Charlie, you don’t need this shit anymore. You’ve been doing fine without it.”

Charlie: (looks up) “I’ve not been doing bloody fine, Jack! Nobody’s been doing bloody fine since we got here!”

Jack: “Okay, you’re right. What I meant to say, was; you’ve proven yourself so much stronger than you thought you were – then I thought you were! You can do without this, Charlie. And above that, we need you.”

Charlie (scorning): “No, you don’t.”

Jack: “Yes, we do, and especially Claire. You’re doing great with the baby.”

Charlie (little bit aggravated): “I’m sure Locke will be, as well!”

Jack (laughs very briefly): “Don’t give him the chance, then.”

*They look each other in the eye. Jack smiles and Charlie starts too, carefully though.*

Charlie: “It’s just, you know, I’m bloody exhausted. Aaron… I can’t get any sleep – even when I’m dead tired. I feel like I’m going insane.”

Jack: (laughing) “I guess that’s a ‘welcome to parenthood.’ It’ll pass.”

*They look each other in the eye again, Charlie with a doubting/asking look. But yes, isn’t he playing father?! And responsible? Now he shakes his head;*

Charlie: “I’ve been a bloody git, haven’t I.”

Jack: “You wanna hand it over?”

*Charlie nods carefully, puts his hand in his pocket, slowly, doubtfully.*

Jack: “I’m doing this wrong, aren’t I?”

*Charlie looks at him questioningly; Jack extends his hand*

Jack (strict voice): “Hand it over, Charlie.”

*Charlie does so, embarrassedly. Jack smiles approvingly to him and lays it aside orso.*

Jack: Look, if you need to talk, or anything, any way I can help you out, please come to me, okay? Whenever! And not just because I’m the doctor; because I’m your friend, as well.”

*Charlie looks at Jack happily.*

Charlie: “Thanks, man.”

**

*Claire’s hanging up wet laundry. Charlie looks around – no one else in her hearing distance. He walks up to her.*

Claire: “Well, hiya, Charlie.”

Charlie: “Hello, Claire.”

*Silence, Claire busy.*

Charlie (hesitantly): “Claire, we’re … friends, right?”

*Claire ceases her work and looks at Charlie surprised and puzzled. She thinks: “What does he want?”

Claire (convinced): “Yeah sure we are!”

Charlie: “And, ehm… Locke – is he your friend as well?”

Claire (understands) (laughs): “Charlie, listen; you are the best friend I have ever had. With all the things you’ve done for me! (thinking) And I’ve done so little for you…”

Charlie: “Oh, more than you think.”

Claire (smiling): “Thanks.”

*Silence again, Claire about to get back to work.*

Charlie: “Claire!”

*Claire looks at him – he looks at her*

Charlie: “I…

*Charlie’s shy. He looks down; then looks up again and blurts it out: *

Charlie: I love you, Claire.”

*Charlie looks down again. Claire looks a little bit surprised, then smiles and answers (after short silence):*

Claire: “Well, I love you too, Charlie.”

*Charlie looks up and his grin expands to an enormous smile. Claire smiles broadly as well.*

Charlie (suddenly): “Shall I help you with this, then?”

*They get to work together.”

**

*Charlie walks up to Sayid, who’s busy chopping wood, sweaty.*

Charlie: “Sayid, will you teach me how to make a fire?”
**

*Charlie and Sayid making a fire; Charlie gets one going.*

Sayid: “Yes, good.”

*Charlie looks happy. Sayid looks at him closely from aside, pondering

Sayid: ”Why do you want to learn this, anyway?”

Charlie (bagatalising): “Oh, ehm, you know, just in case I need to make one. Never know.”

Sayid: “I see. Charlie… why did you bring back a Mary to the camp?”

*Charlie looks unpleasantly surprised, ‘I’m in trouble’-thinking. *

Charlie: “Well, I am a catholic, you know.”

Sayid (unconvinced): “Hm-hm.”

*Charlie sighs and sits down. Sayid sits down, too.*

Charlie: “When I got on the plane, I… I was a junkie.”

*Pauses and looks at Sayid, who doesn’t respond but looks patiently at him.*

Charlie: “There are only three (well now four) people on the island who know of it, and they helped me kick it. … I burnt my stash, you know, before it gave out. It was my own choice to quit.” … “But with all that’s happened, and stumbling across such a big bloody stock of it, well – I thought – I thought I might need it.”

*Charlie looks at Sayid and then seems to be confident and determined*

Charlie: “But you know what? I don’t. And I need to learn how to make a fire because I need to go out there and burn it all; just to make sure.”

*Thoughtful silence.*

Sayid: “I thank you for trusting me; you’re secret’s safe with me. And I am sorry I threw it at your feet like that when we were at the plane.”

Charlie: “Oh, don’t matter, you didn’t know, now did you.”

Sayid: “Would you like me to come with you?”

*Short silence.*

Sayid: “It might be safer. I mean, I can bring a gun.” (we all know what he really meant).

Charlie (nods): “Yeah. Yeah, I would like that. Thank you.”

Sayid: “Okay, then let’s go!”

Charlie: “Now?”

Sayid: “Or whenever you’re ready.”

*Very short silence.*

Charlie: “Okay. That’d be now, I guess.”
**

*Charlie and Sayid at the plane-sight. Charlie lights a fire. Sayid brings all heroin out of the plane. Together they smash the Mary’s. Charlie throws the brown stuff in the fire.
-- no text, just nature sounds / or: no sounds but music. -- *

**