Disclaimer: Lost belongs to ABC and Bad Robot. I own nothing. (Although, I wouldn't mind taking Jack on loan for awhile).

A/N: This story is based on spoiler pictures for "Homecoming." If you prefer not to be spoiled, don't read this yet!

Kate shivered. She wasn't sure if it was from the cold rain or from the adrenaline still coursing through her body, but she knew she had to get into some dry clothes.

Her mind was spinning; it had all been so surreal. Standing there in the rain, gun drawn, just waiting for Ethan to take the bait. Kate had watched as Claire paced nervously back and forth on the path, awaiting the inevitable. And then it had happened. Ethan had come out of nowhere. None of them had seen him; not Jack, not Sawyer, and not Kate herself. But suddenly, Kate had watched as Ethan charged toward Claire, a frightening intensity in his cold eyes.

Kate had barely had time to think. Claire was running in her direction, as they had planned, and she needed to get her to safety. Out of the corner of her eye she had seen Jack running toward Ethan to head him off before he was able to reach Claire. Kate had grabbed Claire's arm and quickly guided her to the safety of the shallow ravine she had been positioned in moments before.

Claire couldn't stop shaking and Kate had tried her best to keep her calm, whispering words of encouragement while trying to block out the sounds of the struggle taking place fifty feet away. But then she had heard the gun shot. Just one shot, but it seemed to resonate in Kate's ears for an eternity.

She was on her feet in an instant, running through the brush in the direction the shot had come from. And when Kate had burst out onto the path, she'd stopped dead in her tracks.

There was Ethan, lying dead on the jungle floor, eyes wide and a single bullet hole through his temple. Jack and Sawyer stood above him, both breathing hard, both holding guns limply at their sides. Jack had a gash above his right eye, and the blood was mixing with the rain pouring down his face.

They had all walked back to the caves in a charged silence, Kate helping Claire along and Jack and Sawyer walking stoically in front of them. Charlie had met them at the entrance to the caves and Kate had passed Claire off to him. She was still quite shaken up and Charlie always seemed to know how to calm her down. Kate hadn't noticed where either Jack or Sawyer had gone, but she suddenly found herself standing alone, silence echoing around her.

She stood for a moment trying to collect herself, trying to block out the vision of Ethan's body, of his lifeless eyes. It was the shivers coursing through her body that brought her back to reality. Kate changed into dry clothes and filled two water bottles before going to look for Jack. She found him sitting in his own cave, dabbing at the cut on his forehead with a strip of cloth.

Kate approached him cautiously. He hadn't spoken since she had stumbled upon the grisly scene in the jungle and she was unsure whether her presence would be welcomed.

"I thought you might want some water," she said, holding out one of the bottles.

"Yeah. Thanks," Jack said, not looking up. Kate got the strong impression that he needed something more than water, though she knew he would never ask for it.

"Are you okay, Jack?" He met her eyes for an instant and then looked away.

"Your head, I mean?", she continued quickly, realizing from the look in his eyes that he wasn't about to start talking about his emotional state. She could always tell when he was closing himself off, but something was telling her that she shouldn't leave him alone just yet.

"It's fine. Doesn't seem too deep," he answered, reaching for the bottle of peroxide. He tried awkwardly to open it with one hand, while continuing to apply pressure to the cut with the other hand.

"Here, let me," Kate said, closing the gap between them and kneeling down at his side. She took the bottle from him and Jack opened his mouth as if to argue, but thought better of it. He didn't protest when Kate reached up to check the wound, her hand momentarily covering his as she lifted the cloth away.

She took her time cleaning and dressing the wound, hoping that Jack would say something, anything, to let her know that he was really okay. But he remained silent, eyes downcast, refusing to look at her. She knew he didn't want to talk about it, but Kate had to know the answer to the question that wouldn't stop running through her mind.

"Which one of you did it?", she asked softly, lowering her hands and sitting back until she was eye-level with Jack.

The look on his face told her the answer before he even said it. "I did."

The pain in his voice made Kate's heart break. "You had to, Jack," she whispered. "He would have hurt Claire, or any of us."

Jack let out a long sigh. He put his head down, covering his face with one hand and shielding his eyes from view. "I'm a doctor, Kate. And in the last three weeks, I've killed two men."

His voice was wavering and Kate's eyes welled up with tears. She knew how hard it had been for him to put an end to the Marshal's suffering, to fix Sawyer's mistake. It seemed Jack was always the one who had to make the tough choices, do the things no one else wanted to. And this was no different. He had been forced to set aside his strongest value- as a doctor and as a man- and he had killed in cold blood. And for a man who had built his life around helping people, around saving them, this was not something he could easily rationalize.

Kate knew all this; she felt it instinctively. She, too, knew what it was to take someone else's life. She knew there was nothing she could say to Jack to make him feel better. There were no magic words that would make him forget it. So she simply lifted her hand and placed it gently on his shoulder, a reminder that he didn't have to face it alone.

It was exactly what Jack needed, and it broke him. At Kate's touch, his shoulders began to shake in silent grief, releasing all the pressure that had been building since the crash. Kate moved closer, putting both arms around him, his head still in his hands as he leaned against her shoulder.

She held him there for a long time, tears streaming down her own face, too. She grieved for Jack, and for herself, and for the other survivors and what they had been through. And when it was over and Jack's breathing had returned to normal, he looked up at Kate's tear-stained face with a look she couldn't quite read, except for the warm thank you visible in his eyes.

She got up to leave, to give him some space, but Jack grabbed her hand. "Stay." Kate nodded and allowed him to pull her down next to him.

She fell asleep that night in Jack's protective embrace, and he in hers. Neither one of them knew what the next day would bring, but whatever it was, they would face it together…