Finding True North

A (mostly) Lost Story

Third in a Series

By DavidB226Morris

Disclaimer: Here we go again, boys and girls. As anyone reading this fanfic knows, Jack, Hurley, Kate and everyone connected with that doomed flight Oceanic 815 doesn't belong to me, but rather is the property of J.J. Abrams, Darlton and everybody else who worked on Lost. Much of this story (like the previous two) will be Grey's Anatomy adjacent. Not as many will be showing up as before, but for the record, they belong to the people at Shondaland, and whatever nutballs are running that company.

Author's Note: I know what I said in my author's note in the final chapter of Fixing What Can Be Fixed, which as everyone who read it knows, wasn't supposed to be around either. But every time I finish rewatching Lost (which I tend to every two years or so), I keep getting stuck in just how great all of the characters were. And I'll be perfectly honest, part of me really couldn't help but feel sad at the fact that I'd written two whole Lost novels, and had barely written more than a few lines for one of the greatest characters of all time, John Locke. And while I do intend to write a story that takes place on the island one day (spoiler: it's going to involve the story of one of my other favorite characters, Eko), I really want to see if I could answer a question I left open: What happened to Locke when everybody left him behind? What did he learn? And what would persuade him to leave? And I'll admit, I like the universe I've created – it's kind of a real-life flash sideways. So I figured what the hell?

This story will deal more with the island than the other two, but in flashback more than anything else. (And really, what's a Lost story without flashbacks). I'm going to deal with quite a few of the characters from Seattle Grace, but this is far less of a crossover. And while the characters will deal with the island, don't work. This is Locke, not Jeremy Bentham. They're not going back. There will be island adjacent drama, but no island.

So far, my Lost stories have been among my most popular. I hope you'll continue to review them as much as before.

Prologue

SEATTLE SPACE NEEDLE

"Seriously Freckles, if I'd known you were such a cheap date, I wouldn't have tried so hard on the island."

Kate had that smile on her face she only got with Sawyer. "I spent three years running from the law, James. I think it's pretty much established I've seen as much of the world."

"All the places you coulda gone on your honeymoon, and you pick Yosemite." James said playfully. "Doc, did you put so much effort into getting the girl of your dreams that you forgot to treat her like a princess?"

"For the last time, James, it was her idea," Jack said in a tone no one who'd spent any time after the plane crash thinking he could have ever used with James Ford. "And lest we forget, I think all of us have pretty much decided that if we never got on another plane for the rest of our lives, it would be too soon."

"He's got you there, dude," Hurley told him

Callie Torres watched the Oceanics engage in this byplay with a familiar smile. She'd only been to three of these get-togethers between the friends – only two since Kate and Jack's wedding two months earlier – but there was some part of her that still couldn't get used to the camaraderie. She'd been on staff at Seattle Grace for almost two years, and aside from Jack himself, she couldn't really remember, even on those rare occasions when they gathered for drinks at Joe's, if there'd ever been a time when they had seemed remotely this happy with each other. Hell, the dinners she'd had with her own husband had been filled with more tension than this.

Jack Shephard had come to Seattle Grace about a year and a half ago and, unlike everybody else she'd known at the hospital, had not announced his secrets to the world. It wasn't until CNN had run an anniversary story of the Oceanic rescue and reporters had descended on Seattle Grace en masse that the secret had come out. Even then, he'd been very reluctant to reveal exactly what had happened over the 100 days that the Oceanic survivors had been missing, believed dead.

It wasn't until the fall of that year that Callie had become acquainted with Hugo Reyes, Jack's closest friend on the island. Hurley, as he insisted everybody call him, had since become one of Seattle Grace's greatest benefactors. She had only recently learned that had it not been for the work of the Reyes Foundation, Seattle Grace might have had to merge with a local hospital, if not close its doors altogether. Webber had told her. Hurley, in his typical manner had not taken any credit for it

He had befriended her at the moment she had been at her lowest point, and had done nothing but listen to her problems. Then he'd asked her on a date. Slowly but surely, he had told her some of the secrets of what had happened – that the survivors had crashed on a mysterious island in the Pacific, that it had become clear very quickly that there was something paranormal about the island, and not long after that they were not alone on it. Jack had told her the rest in bits and pieces – how he had been forced into a leadership role he hadn't wanted, that there had been mysteries on that island that he either couldn't deal with or had compartmentalized for the sake of getting them rescued, that he'd had interaction with the Others on the island – one of whom was sitting across the table from her right now – and that they had finally gotten off the island. They'd held fast to a vow not to tell the world what they had seen, mainly so they could get back to some semblance of a normal life.

And even though you could hardly consider any life that involved the resident at her hospital 'normal', they had managed to do so. And in their own way, the survivors had done a lot of good for Seattle Grace. Jack had finally knocked some sense into the residents who had been causing the most trouble, and had been there for Stevens when she'd developed skin cancer that had spread to her brain. He'd been an integral part of therapy for her and Alex during the recovery process, though Callie was pretty sure there was nothing in the handbook about telling them all of their secrets. Juliet, who'd been a top notch fertility doctor before the island, had helped Dr. Montgomery realize her lifelong dream of having a baby, and was now on staff at the hospital. Both Jack and Juliet had made it very clear that they had no interest of taking Weber's job when he retired – they'd both gotten sick of leadership battles when they were on the island, thank you very much.

Of course, there was also the small matter that both were involved in serious relationships. Jack had waited for Kate to get out of prison, and they had gotten married. Juliet and James were engaged. And unlike so many other couples at the hospital that Callie had known – and sadly, been a part of - Jack and Juliet were determined to put their relationships first. They were the only attendings at the hospital who had negotiated in their contracts the ability to work fewer shifts than the rest. Every other attending thought they were nuts. Callie knew better. These people knew there were more important things than their careers. And the funny thing was, she was starting to feel the same way.

Callie knew she was extremely lucky to be let inside the inner circle. Much like the ways surgeons were supposed to, this group had a bond that let in very few other people. They'd let in Stevens and Karev, and to a degree Miranda, but they hadn't told anybody else what had really happened after the crash besides their loved ones. Sayid, who Callie was still getting to know, had told his wife Nadia. Juliet had told her sister. Claire had told her mother, and Hugo had told his. Beyond that, the circle had been rather closed within the survivors.

Admittedly, this was a far larger group that Callie had ever had before, and they made an effort to get together every week. Hugo, as was his want, was the linchpin. He still spent about half his week in LA – his friendship with the other survivors and his work with his foundation meant he did a lot of commuting. So every weekend, depending on their schedules, the group who lived in Seattle would go to LA, or vice versa. Most of the staff at Seattle Grace understood this, but Meredith and Christina in particular couldn't understand why the best spinal surgeon and one of the best fertility specialists in the country would break up their weeks for friends. It was things like this that made Callie seriously wonder just how deep the friendship between the two 'persons' really was.

Jack, however, had told her that he understood. "I was like them once. I was so focused on trying to be the best surgeon at the hospital that I let all my other relationships – including my first marriage – fall to the side. When she left me, Sarah told me that I was always going to need something else to fix. She had a point, but I don't think even she could see was that the person who needed the most fixing was myself. It's kind of terrifying to realize that it took a plane crash to basically get my life on track. I don't recommend it. And considering what Meredith in particular went through her first year here, she may have more problems then even she's willing to admit. I really hope Derek knows the job he's signed up for."

"And Christina?" she'd asked.

Jack shook his head. "She's always been clear on her goal. She wants to be the greatest surgeon in the world. And she'll probably walk over anybody and everybody in order to get there. She'll end up alone at the end of her life, but there are some people who can live with that. At one point, I was one of them. Now I just feel sorry for her." He hesitated. "Don't tell her I said that."

Callie smiled sadly. "She'd probably wear it as a point of pride."

And it was at these dinners – which the Seattle group tried to have every few days aside from the weekly reunions – that Callie felt the sorriest for her. This was a level of human connection that, for all their skills as surgeons, most of the doctors at Seattle Grace just didn't have. Indeed, Callie was reminded of a conversation she'd had with Sloan last year in which he'd told him Derek was his family, and he'd repaid that friendship by having an affair with his wife. They repaired much of the damage in the last year, but it still said a lot about them that had been the rule rather than the exception.

Indeed, it was that entire mindset that had led to what she was about to do next. "Excuse me," she said, tapping her spoon against her wineglass.

They all quieted, even though only Hugo knew what she was about to do next.

"I know I don't participate as much in these discussions as everybody else," She looked at Claire. "Some of you have pointed that out in the past."

"How do you know I just wasn't trying to get you to babysit?" Claire asked.

"You know what her schedule is like," Juliet said.

"Guys come on," Hurley said, in a rare serious tone. "Go ahead."

"I realize just how insular your circle is," she said slowly. "And now that I know what all of you went through, I understand why. And it's for that reason, I'm grateful that you've let me in. My family was never that big. And as Jack and Juliet can testify, it's really hard making friends as a surgeon. Especially at this hospital. So I can't begin to tell you how glad I am to be one of you."

The silence seemed to go on a little longer than necessary. Callie was actually a little grateful that Hurley broke it up. "Sawyer, are you crying?"

"No," James said a little too quickly. Juliet looked at him. "Shut up!"

"My goodness," Kate said with an impish smile on her face. "Was I in prison so longer that James Ford managed to get in touch with his feminine side?"

"There was something in my eye," James said in a tone that other people might've once considered threatening.

"They're called tears, James. If you like, I can explain the exact biological process that leads to their production." Juliet said mockingly.

"Why did you insist so hard that we take her back with us?" James asked imploringly.

And the mood was back to normal.

CEASAR CHAVEZ MIDDLE SCHOOL

All of the Oceanics had needed a fair about of therapy when they had gotten back to LA. Walt, understandably, had needed more than most. The fact that he'd ended up spending several months in a mental institution had paradoxically meant he needed more.

Hurley had been a huge help. He'd convinced Dr. Brooks, the man who had been his therapist at Santa Rosa, to come in for several sessions. Brooks had been more than understanding, and Walt had gone into a fair amount of detail in regard to the various traumas he'd suffered while on the island. Talk and a certain amount of medicine had helped.

Of course, the fact he and his father had finally been allowed to reunite three months helped even more. It had taken a lot of work, but the rest of the survivors had been satisfied that Michael had met the conditions they had set forward. Helping Des and Penny come back to the real world had won over most of them as well. It would probably be asking far too much for the two of them to ever have a normal father and son relationship – no one who had been through what had happened on the island was sure they'd ever have something approaching normal again – but they were finally on the right track.

As for Walt's being 'special', he was beginning to think that might be something he could now deal with. Hurley and Sawyer in particular had been a big help when it came to deal with his powers, and he was beginning to think that wasn't going to be much of an issue either. He knew he'd probably have to deal with it more when he got older, but he had his father, and he had his friends.

And now that he was going to school again, he was actually starting to meet friends his own age, something he'd never had a lot of even before the plane crash. It helped that he was finally staying in the same place for a protracted period of time, and the fact that he was actually something of a celebrity was a bonus in a city obsessed with them. Because they didn't know about his psychic powers, that was actually a bonus.

Walt was feeling good about himself for the first time in awhile. So when he was about to go out to have lunch, and he got one of his twinges for the first time in nearly six months, it almost frightened him a little. There was nothing about the flash – indeed, it could really be considered friendly – but the fact that it was happening at all was enough to alarm him.

Nevertheless, he knew how to handle it, and told his friends that he couldn't eat with them today. "I just got a call from an old friend, " he said. "Which was both true and deceptive.

He walked across the street slowly, with an eerie calmness that he'd had with so many of his flashes before. And sure enough, there he was. He looked a lot cleaner than he had the last time he saw him, but it was the same man who'd taught him backgammon and how to throw a knife.

"Hey John," he said.

"Hello, Walt," said John Locke.