Don't own anything.

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The Good Doctor

Jack had always been in control. Always had the answer, the cure. But one more failure sends him over the edge, and only one person can save him from himself.

1 : Unwell

He felt almost drunk. Not the good, no-shirt-no-shoes-no-problems-drunk. The falling down, stinking drunk that makes you scared of what you may do, and what you may be incapable of protecting yourself against. The trees blurred through the tears in his eyes, and he stumbled and wavered as he tried to run. He had this curious feeling in his chest, like he was caught in a gigantic vice, and it was squeezing his lungs tighter and tighter until they'd pop.

One thought repeated over and over in his otherwise frail mind. I failed.

When he had seen Sawyer being carried out of the jungle by that gigantic black man, Jack's stomach dropped into his shoes. Though he'd never admit it, he was secretly relieved when Sawyer left the island, and not only for the fact that the southerner was far more irritating than anyone he'd ever met. Jack was jealous of him. Of him and Kate. Sure, he'd seen the way they bantered, the way he could catch her eye from across camp.

Since the raft had launched, Kate had found Jack at some point in the day and made sure to ask him how he thought the rafters were. She'd ask, all of a sudden, as if it was some trifle that popped into her head, as if she hadn't been thinking about it all day, "How do you think the rafters are doing?" And he'd cringe. Die a little inside, maybe. His resentment for Sawyer grew even after his departure from the island, because, although he was gone, he was not forgotten. His absence seemed to even make Kate's affection for him grow, and Jack hated him all the more.

Which was why it was so surprising to him that he should be so distraught now, upon Sawyer's death. Anyone else may have shrugged it off, pretended to be sad for show, but secretly celebrated. Jack may have been more upset than if someone he had even remotely liked had died. Maybe it was the look on Kate's face. The pain in her eyes when she walked in the room to see Jack hunched over Sawyer, blood on his hands, the exhaustion in his sigh. He was disappointed in himself, angry at himself that he could not spare her the pain of losing the man she loved. He was angry at all of them to put Sawyer's death in his hands.

So Jack ran. Or he tried to run, as disoriented as he was. After maybe ten minutes, his wobbly legs gave out on him, and he slumped against a tree and slid to the ground. Jack looked down at his hands. Bleary red blotches. Still stained with Sawyer's blood. He felt so helpless. Nothing he did mattered. They'd die anyway, and he'd feel responsible, because he couldn't save them. He couldn't save them. He'd failed.

A strangled sound escaped him, something like a sob, and his father's voice rang in his head. You don't have what it takes, Jack. You don't have what it takes.

He realized it was all just leading up to this. Sawyer's death wasn't special, it was just the last death he could deal with, the one that drove Jack over the edge. He drew in a ragged breath, and held it until his vision cleared. An eerie calm settled upon him, and complete thoughts formed his mind.

He felt as if he was slowly losing his mind. He never wanted to go back there and see her face. She must hate him now. Jack let himself slide off the tree and lay on his back on the ground. His mind blanked, started back into thought, and blanked again. He felt like he could just fade away into the anonymity and oblivion of the trees. He felt like he should die.

He must have fallen asleep, because a twig snapping caused him to jerk awake, disoriented and confused. Jack sat up and looked around, his heart not beating as fast as it should've been. He could be on the brink of death out here. There were the Others, there was the monster, there were animals. But Jack didn't feel worried. And luckily this time, he didn't have a reason to be. Kate peeked out around a clump of trees, the worry creasing her lovely features immediately washed away with relief. But then again, maybe he should've been worried, because anger quickly followed her relief upon seeing him safe, and she stomped up to him.

Jack looked up at her innocently, not having the sound mind yet to wonder why she came after him. Kate's resolve flickered for a moment, but she steeled herself.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Here it comes, Jack thought. The how-could-you-let-my-lover-die speech. How could you have made it through med school, you don't know anything. Why did the survivors pick you as their leader, you can't help anyone.

Jack blinked, and the tortured look in his eyes made Kate sigh. She dropped to her knees in front of him.

"You scared the shit out of me, Jack. You can't just go running off like that." Her voice was laced with concern, affection. Jack furrowed his forehead, slowly regaining his senses.

"W-What?"

"What do you mean, what? You lecture everyone else for going into the jungle alone, and then you run off and do it, and right after…" Kate drifted off there, her angry, berating tone dissipating.

"Right after I let Sawyer die. You came after me to lay into me, didn't you?"

Kate cocked her head, confusion screwing up her brow. Jack's heart raced.

"Kate, you didn't sleep for two days, watching over him. Don't look so confused, I know you felt something for him." He barked.

Kate's eyes widened. "Yeah, pity, maybe." She paused to stand again. "Sawyer and I…we connected. We were both running from our pasts. I understood how he felt, and he understood my fear. Yes, I'm sad that he's gone, now I don't have anyone to really talk to." Kate paused again for effect, making sure her words cut him. "But you-you were acting so strange when you took off, I was terrified. I've never seen you look so hopeless."

"I can't go back there." Jack breathed, eyes focused on nothing. Kate slowly realized just how deeply Jack was crushed.

"This really got to you, didn't it?" Kate knelt before him again, gingerly touching his face with her fingertips so he would look at her. He flinched first, but then allowed her to turn his chin toward her. "No one blames you, Jack."

"I do. For everything. For Sara, my dad's death, everyone who died on my hands in the past month and a half, and for you. You and Sawyer." He swallowed hard, eyes turning to the ground, though Kate still held his chin firmly in her hand. She was quiet, unsure of what to say, and when she made to drop her touch from his skin, Jack took her hand in his and spoke curiously, "If I was dying, would you watch over me?" He asked quietly.

Kate laughed. She didn't mean to, but the child like innocence in his eyes was so uncharacteristic, she couldn't help it. She immediately apologized, and though a smile still lingered on her lips, her words were weighty.

"Of course I would, Jack. I wouldn't rest until you were well. I'd lie next to you and whisper in your ear all night." Her mischievous smile made Jack smile faintly, and he closed his eyes. Kate inched closer to him.

"I'm sorry, Kate." He whispered, eyes still closed, head hung to his chest. His voice wavered, and Kate's breath was knocked out of her body. She grabbed his shoulders hard, and he lifted his head. Her hands moved to the sides of his face, her thumbs on his cheeks, her fingers under his ears.

"Jack, please come back with me." She begged. "Let me take care of you."

He lifted his hands to cover hers.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save him. I'm sorry you can't talk to me like you could to him. I'm sorry I scared you."

"It's okay, it's okay!" She reassured and inched closer to him, balling her fists in his tattered T shirt, feeling panic bite at her. "Jack, there was nothing more you could have done for him. For any of them. You did the best you could. You have to stop beating yourself up for something you have no control over."

"Kate, I just can't do it anymore. I'm sorry I scared you, but I just can't do it anymore. I can't take this-this failure."

"Jack, you didn't fail." Kate's voice was suddenly clear. "You saved me." She offered, unsurely. "I would've been long gone if it hadn't been for you. Once I figured out how to survive in the jungle, I'd have left camp. Probably been eaten by something or taken by the Others, but at least I wouldn't have to go back to jail when they saved the rest of you."

"I thought you stayed on the beach because you couldn't wait to be rescued."

"I stayed on the beach because I just can't…make a real life anywhere. I was too afraid to fall in love with something only to be taken away from it."

Jack realized the squeezing pain in his chest was gone. He could breathe easier, now. He reached out to touch Kate's arms, pulled her into an embrace. Though she tensed, she allowed him to hold her. Jack reached up to gingerly tug the ponytail from her hair, letting it fall heavily about her shoulders. There was only weariness and mild curiosity in his eyes as she looked at him for answers.

He was memorizing the details of her face, the curve of her lips, the color of her eyes. Kate was content under his gaze, her knees resting in his lap.

"It'll be okay." Jack said, as if convincing himself of it. Kate nodded with a smile and turned to sink into his lap, her back pressed against his chest. He leaned his chin on the top of her head and wrapped his arms around her. She laced her fingers through his, listening to his even breathing, feeling his heartbeat behind her.

They both were lost in thought for a while, Kate nearly fell asleep in his arms, and heard Jack chuckle above her when she started violently awake at the sound of the wind.

She elbowed him in the ribs playfully and rose, holding her hands out to him.

"Now come on, Dr. Shepherd, you don't want me walking back to camp all by myself, do you?"

He gladly took her hands, and when he stood, they were toe to toe. His hands still in hers, she tilted her lips up to him unconsciously. Jack looked down at her intently. He wouldn't let himself think that she wanted him to kiss her. Though his mind had cleared immensely, his thoughts were still wandering and unclear.

A bolt of pain shot through him and he winced, looking away.

"Jack? Are you alright?" Kate moved her hands to his shoulders, and his face. His eyes squeezed shut, fighting off the wave of nausea. After a moment, he began to breathe again.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm alright." He tried to reassure her with a soft smile that quivered. "Come on, let's get back. I got a train wreck to clean up." Kate looked at him sadly, and slid his arm over her shoulders, wrapping her arm around his waist tightly. Jack held her to him as they walked slowly back to camp.

As they neared the beach, Jack began to hunch more and more as he walked, shuffling his feet heavily. His eyes were clenched shut tightly, and Kate made him sit down, though they could see the clearing through an aperture in the trees. Jack clutched his abdomen as he leaned his back against a tree.

"I'm going to get Sayid." Kate stated, and Jack didn't have the strength to protest as she shot off toward the caves.

Pain shot through his gut like a knife, and he groaned, clutching his stomach tighter. When it ebbed away, he ran through his symptoms and tried to diagnose himself.

Feverish, stressed, stomach pains, little sleep, incomplete nourishment. It could be a number of things. Simple influenza, ulcer, some sort of exotic tropical illness no one's ever heard of before. Jack groaned again at his helplessness. He was used to being the one in charge, the one taking care of people, and he hated being the one in need of care.

As he heard hurried footsteps approach, Jack suddenly lurched forward and vomited violently in the grass. The tears in his eyes blurred his vision, but when he opened his eyes he clearly saw the vibrant redness of his pooled blood in stark contrast to the green grass.

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I wrote this a while back, and just finished the second and last chapter the other day. So, tell me what ya think. I'll post the second chapter in a couple days.

Love always,

Austin B.