Disclaimer: I do not own Lost.

Full Summary: He saves lives. She takes them. Could she possibly be redeemed for the terrible crimes she's committed? Sarah Gray will learn just that when she finds herself among survivors of the missing Flight 815 and a doctor with the true ability to heal even the deepest wounds. Jack/OC

A/N: My first LOST fanfic that I've been excited to start for a while now, but I wanted to make sure everything was just right. I plan to have some flashbacks and such so that there's a deeper understanding of my OC. I think you might like her, though. Hope you enjoy and leave a review!

-One-

From where Jack stood, he could hear the waves breaking on the sand down at the shoreline. It was another sunny day, glaringly so, though the faint wind did some to alleviate the heat. The humidity, however, was unavoidable. Every time he breathed in, he could taste the moisture in the air. The rain came in spontaneous downpours. It had been a mere five days since the plane stranded them on this beach, and already he was becoming accustomed to these things.

"…and you know we're having trouble with the rations, of course. They're nearly drained. You'd think Shannon, skinny as she is, wouldn't eat more than her fair share, but—Jack. Jack? Do you hear me?"

Jack blinked up at Charlie, who had paused in his movements to stare at Jack curiously. Jack stacked another set of decrepit boxes found from the plane under the large tent before straightening up again. It'd been earlier in the morning, just when the sun was peeking out from the horizon, when he'd been asked to help with the depleted food supply situation. Now he felt a little guilty that his attentions continued to drift elsewhere. "Yeah, sorry. I'm just…"

Charlie waved a hand in the air, the white bandages on his knuckles showing like a sign of truce. Jack thought the black ink letters on it read "LATE", but he couldn't be sure.

"Of course you've got a lot on your mind. We all do. What with that…" Charlie threw an uneasy glance out towards the jungle, "monster lurking about. What do you think it is, anyway?"

Jack only smiled. "When you figure it out, you let me know."

"Hurley thinks it's a dinosaur of sorts. Can you believe it? The man still thinks dinosaurs roam the earth."

After several seconds of no response, Charlie stopped counting the remaining bags of peanuts and glanced up at Jack again. The doctor was staring off into the jungle, his eyes focused in on something. Before Charlie could say anything, Jack blinked twice and looked back down, continuing to count where he'd left off. After tossing the last pack in the amassed pile of peanuts, his mouth settled into a grim line.

"We've got at least forty-eight people to feed. There's not even half of that here."

Charlie frowned. "Maybe we shouldn't have burned the plane last night. I mean, I get the whole thing about the dead being bait and all, but if there was any more food left—"

"There wasn't," Jack shook his head. He could still smell the smoke from the vast fire that'd burned through flesh and bone. He rubbed at his eyes as if he could rub the image away. "We gathered all the supplies in there. All that was left was… people."

Before Charlie could reply, he caught Hurley coming in a half-run at them, breathing heavily. The wind caught the curls of his hair, pulling them astray. Some stuck to a gather of sweat on his forehead. There was a line of worry between his eyebrows and his eyes were atypical of his usual lighthearted self.

"Guys!" he half-panted half-shouted as he stopped before them, placing his hands on his knees as he took a moment to catch his breath. Then he pointed down towards the beach, looking between them fervently. "There's something going on down at the water. Shannon thought she saw something but no one can really tell what the heck—"

He broke off at Shannon's recognizable high-pitched screaming.

All three men looked at the shoreline, where a crowd of the survivors had gathered, while Hurley muttered, "Well, I guess they figured it out. That can't be—"He stopped again as he watched Jack take off towards the shore with that now familiar crisis-dealing look on his face. "—good." Exchanging a glance with Charlie, they headed on after Jack.

If it weren't for the way the sand made Jack feel as if he were running underwater, he would have reached the crowd much faster than he had. He didn't have to push through anyone. They parted for him immediately, the walls of people leading him straight to the problem at hand. He caught sight of Kate standing knee-deep in the undulating water, looking jolted, and joined her. Sayid and Sawyer were about a hundred yards away. From where Jack stood, he could see cloudy red water imposed in the deep blue way out that made his stomach tighten. Did another survivor try going swimming again and somehow end up bleeding? But no—something was different about this. Sawyer pulled a dark shape towards the shore while Sayid seemed to gather something before swimming back.

Sawyer's dirty blonde hair was plastered to his face and the sides of his neck as he hefted the figure in his arms when he came into waist-deep water. By the looks of it, the body was female. Jack met Sawyer halfway, splashing through the water with haste. His eyes quickly sought for an assessment of life, but the woman's black clothes concealed the crimson that would elucidate her condition. The only way he was certain she was bleeding was by the blood trickling onto Sawyer's blue shirt, staining it dark. The girl had long blonde hair. There was a deep gash in her temple.

"What happened?" He asked as Sawyer quickly pushed his way through the thrusting water to shore.

"Don't know," Sawyer said gruffly. "Barbie over there," he nodded at Shannon, "said she saw a shark. This don't look like a shark to me, doc."

Kate was by their side in a second. Jack gave her a quick look as he said, "Clear out the tent and get set up first aid kit. We need to get her out of the sun." Kate stared a moment at the limp girl in Sawyer's arms, mouth parted. "Kate!" He snapped her back to attention. "Go!"

She did. Sawyer made it to the beach and followed where Kate had disappeared in what was now dubbed the medical tent, where the U.S. Marshall had died only two days before. He tried to quicken his pace, but Jack precluded him from doing so. Jack was trying to examine the girl and walk at the same time. He picked up her wrist that lacked any sort of conscious strength and tried to take quick pulse. Her arm was covered in a sheen black material. There were strange gloves on her hands. He delicately pulled the glove off and rolled up the sleeve, feeling the vein.

She had a pulse, but a faint one. Now he hastened Sawyer to walk faster.

"She's lost a lot of blood," he informed Sawyer as they strode to the tent, the way he would talk to a nurse or technician back at the trauma center when they'd cart someone in.

Inside the tent, Sawyer placed the stranger on a strewn out blanket and stepped aside. Kate stood near the entrance, her face tight with unease, her arms crossed guardedly. She'd set the supplies Jack needed right next to the blanket.

Jack perused the woman's body for any sign of injury. The wound in her head was obvious, but by the amount of blood she had already lost, there was something he was overlooking. A split second decision made him seize a razor and cut open the odd, almost thermal material of her shirt from the center of the hem to the bottom. Underneath was a tank top in the same material and color. A shining silver necklace in the shape of a heart rested at the base of her throat. Bright red crimson caught his eye on her left, just where the now cut material frayed at her shoulder. He pulled it aside, revealing the hidden wound.

He had seen it before. It was a bullet wound. After examining it scrupulously, he beckoned to Kate. "Hold this over the wound," he said, handing her a large piece of gauze. "There isn't damage to any major arteries there. We just have to get the bleeding to stop. Her head wound is what concerns me."

Kate abided by his words and pressed the gauze to the girl's skin. She winced when she saw red blossom like a flower in the gauze before looking back up at Jack, who was delicately probing the head wound. The gash looked like it went pretty deep and every so often a spurt of blood would stream out.

"Where do you think she came from?" Kate asked in a hush, pressing her lips together.

"Hell if I know," Sawyer said tactlessly, his arms crossed firmly over his chest as he observed with indifference.

"Do you think she could be a survivor from the tail of the plane?"

Kate received no answer, only a dubious silence.

Jack was quick to tend to the head wound as he clotted the blood. A half hour passed before he could put butterfly Band-Aids over it to hold the skin together. But he wasn't done yet. He had Kate move aside and removed the gauze from the girl's arm. The bullet hole was clear, now. It hadn't gone through to the other side.

"Grab the tweezers," he instructed and was quickly handed a pair of metal tweezers. He held it over the bullet hole and glanced down at the girl's face for the first time since seeing her getting dragged from the water. Her blonde hair was still matted around her, partially pulled from a pony tail she'd tugged it into at some point. Her pallor was nearly white and her lips turning blue. Unawake, she still looked to be in some pain. He knew that picking the bullet from where it had embedded itself in her skin would probably exacerbate that.

He steadied himself as he inserted the tweezers. Metal touched metal, and he tried digging the bullet out.

The girl gritted her teeth together as she let out a plaintive cry of pain.

"Get some water," he told Sawyer, who surprisingly quickly disappeared to fetch it. The girl was thrashing, seemingly in a semi-conscious state. Sawyer returned quickly, handing a bottle of water to Jack. Jack set it aside as he finished pulling the bullet out. He let it fall to the sand as he soaked a clean white fabric in the water and dripped it into the girl's mouth first, and then over the newly bleeding bullet wound. She fell back into an unconscious delirium.

Kate stared wide-eyed at the blood spattered grains of sand in front of her. "Jack," she said slowly. "She was shot."

Jack only nodded. "I know."

As he finished wrapping gauze and tape around the stranger's arm, he sat back and let a breath out. That was when he realized why Sawyer and Kate had become oddly silent. There was a holster strapped to the girl's thigh with a heavy-looking gun in it.

"Who the hell is she?" Sawyer said, his eyebrows furrowed. "A friggin' Charlie's Angel?"

"Jack." It was Sayid, standing in the triangular entranceway to the tent. There was blood on his shirt, soaked straight through. His face was unreadable but his tone was urgent. "There's something you need to see."

"He'd already been dead when I pulled him from the water," Sayid explained quietly as he stood with Jack behind the medical tent. In front of them was a man with short blonde hair, the same dark clothes the girl wore, and a chilling expression. His bright blue eyes were wide open and lifeless. His mouth was parted. Water from his clothes soaked into the sand in the shade of the tent.

Jack had made sure to leave the girl in the care of both Kate and Sawyer; the latter now had possession of the gun in question and the former was pressing cold wet clothes to the stranger's forehead.

"He's not all I found, though," Sayid said as he pulled a black backpack into view, along with a silver briefcase. He set them on the ground, his arms crossed. "Sawyer and I had to untangle the backpack from the girl's shoulders. The briefcase had been clasped in his hands."

Nodding, Jack absorbed all of this. Nothing seemed to add up even though only an hour's time had passed. By the looks of it, this man did not die from drowning. He wasn't bleeding. Jack couldn't determine what caused his untimely death. Maybe only the girl would have answers.

The sun descended low in the horizon and Jack's new patient had yet to arise. He sat in the tent, his eyes on her face casted in the glow of torchlight. She had a small frame, but was most likely in her twenties. Folding his fingers together, he stared at the holster strapped to her thigh. Why did she have a gun? How did she get shot when the man didn't have one? Who was she?

Hurley came in an hour later. He paused in the entranceway, taking in the scene before him. There was a small amount of food in his hands—most likely the remnants of what remained. Jack had forgotten about that pressing issue. It would have to be discussed with the others very soon.

"Dude," Hurley said as he walked in, handing Jack a water bottle and some food. "Everyone's talking about this chick. She was strapped? Do you think she was part of a rescue team?"

Jack picked his head up and considered Hurley. It was the first mention of a theory on a rescue team. But what rescue team would need weapons? "I'm not sure, Hurley," he said wearily. "There's no way to know until she wakes."

"You gonna stick around until she does? Could be a while, man."

Jack shrugged. "It'll be sooner or later."

"Sawyer was right," Hurley said in a deeming tone as he looked at the girl further. "She does look like a Charlie's Angel. The hot blonde one. Cuter, though."

A laugh escaped Jack's lips. Leave it to Hurley to break up the gloom.

"Listen," Hurley said on his way out. "You need any help, just holler." Before he left, he added quickly, "As long as it doesn't involve any blood."

Jack smiled again, but it only served to remind him of the past few days everyone had endured. A good night's sleep had eluded him since the crash due to his constant worries and the monster that seemed to make nightly jungle haunts a sort of habit. Now with the mystery presented before him, he knew he wouldn't sleep, still. It would be wise to skip the attempt and stay so that the girl wouldn't wake alone.

His lack of sleep won out in the end. For a moment, he had told himself, he would shut his eyes. The moment stretched on into hours, and before he knew it, the first beams of daylight were breaching inside the tent as he was being nudged awake. He blinked around groggily and rubbed the back of his wrist over his eyes, sitting up straighter. Kate was beside him.

"How is she?" Kate asked in a whisper.

Jack took a moment to look from Kate to the girl, lying still on the blanket. "She's better out than awake," he said. "She lost too much blood yesterday, and that gash in her head could get too disturbed from healing if she wakes up."

Kate nodded. She paused. "Do you think it was a good idea to give the gun to Sawyer for safekeeping?"

"I took the bullets out," Jack said absently. "It shouldn't be a problem."

"And when she does wake?"

"We'll just have to see."

Sayid joined them a moment later, looking stern. "The others are getting worried. They want to know why someone who wasn't on the plane is here."

"They aren't the only ones," Kate barely said loud enough to be heard.

"This isn't the only thing we should be worried about," Jack told them, wondering if he could gauge their reaction before he actually said it. "We're pretty much out of food."

Both Kate and Sayid were silent until Sayid said, "Then lucky for us we crashed near a jungle. We'll just have to start gathering what's out there."

"What about poisonous fruit?" Kate asked. "We can't exactly get anything if we don't even know what we're looking for."

"We can always ask—"

There was a loud gasp as the blonde girl sucked air into her lungs.

In an instant, Jack was on his feet before kneeling by her side. He moved to cradle her head, but her arm lashed out and she scratched his forearm, drawing a small river of blood. Jack fell back with surprise. The girl pulled herself into a sitting position, moaning with pain as she held a hand to the Band-Aids on her head and edged backwards, away from the three survivors. Her breathing was heavy and labored, and her eyes looked around the tent with terror. As they landed on Jack, she steeled herself and placed her hand on the holster where her gun should be. She felt around for it a moment before realizing it was gone.

"It's okay," Jack said, holding his hands out in front of him. "We're not going to hurt you."

"How convincing," she breathed. Then she broke into a fit of coughing and held a hand to her heart.

"What's your name?" Kate tried in a soft voice, putting on a kind smile.

The girl ignored this as she shoved to her feet. Instead of standing, she wobbled. Jack caught her before she fell back to the ground. She tried putting up a fight, but her limbs felt like dead weights and her head throbbed. Something was wrong with her arm.

"You need to calm down," Jack said. "And you need to sit. You lost too much blood."

"What I need," she countered harshly, "is for you to let go." Little silver stars began to glitter in her vision, but she tried her hardest to rein in her balance and disregard the pain swelling in her head.

"Listen to me, if you don't sit down all the blood in your head will rush down to your legs and you'll black out. Considering you've been out for almost an entire day, now, I think—"

"A day?" This finally seemed to get through to her. She looked at Jack with widened eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"You don't remember?" Kate asked, grabbing the water bottle on the ground and carefully handing it to the girl. The girl accepted it warily and shook her head. "We found you out in the—"

Jack stopped Kate. He was still staring at the girl he was trying to keep from falling over in his arms. It wouldn't be good to shock her right now. "What's your name?"

She stared at him long and hard, her lips pursed together. The color had returned to them, but the rest of her face was still ashen white. Even her fingers, to the very tips, felt weak and tired. Her heart felt like it was fluttering in her chest, and there was a memory she was suppressing just on the edge of her frayed mind. Finally she said, "Sarah. I'm Sarah."
Jack nodded. He gave her a small smile. "I'm Jack."

Whatever response she was prepared to make was cut short by the rustling outside the tent. A moment later, Sawyer emerged, sour-faced as usual when it came to seeing Jack. Then his eyes turned to the unnamed girl. She stared unblinkingly at the gun sticking out of Sawyer's jeans. Her gun.

"Well," Sawyer said as he looked around the faces before him. He pulled out the gun with two fingers and dangling it in the air almost teasingly. "Care to explain this, sweetheart?"

So what do you think? Please leave a review, even if you didn't like it! I'd like to know what I'm doing right or wrong so that I can improve for you guys! (-: