Settling In (open)

[Jack Shephard]

Jack worked his way up the beach to where the survivors were now gathering. He had given up on trying to wear his shoes. They were filling up with sand every step and so he had removed them in favor a barefoot stroll up to the other shocked and puzzled looking folks. Night appeared to be settling in quickly and he hoped that Locke would be back with some firewood soon. He was also surprised to find that in spite of all of his panic, he was really hungry. He wondered if any food had survived the crash. They would have to look later. For now all he cared about was making sure people were safe.

He checked on two men sitting together, Scott and Steve. hey both had minor injuries, and Jack gave them makeshift bandages before moving on to the next group, where everyone seemed okay. It was interesting to him. People seemed to either have died in the crash or survived with nary a scratch. That was when he remembered the own deep cut along his back. Okay, maybe not any scratches. He would need to find someone to stitch this up for him. That could wait though. There were more important things to worry about.

Like why hadn't rescue arrived yet. They had been here a few hours now... Where was rescue? He had thought it would only be an hour or two. The United States had bases everywhere these days. They should have been found by now. Maybe, maybe the transceiver wasn't working. Jack looked back and realized the cockpit had broken off too... It must be in the jungle somewhere. He'd have to look for it once he was patched up.

[Hurley Reyes]

There it was. All of it. They'd gone through some of the luggage earlier, a bunch of the survivors, trying to sort out the stuff that'd be immediately usefull to the group. Essential in that list of items had been the food, since nobody had probab eaten since that morning. And for Hurley himself, there had been no partaking of nourishment since last night's dinner. He wasn't used to that kind of time in between meals, and he was certainly feeling the effects, with each uncomfortable churn and gurgle of his stomach. He kept looking down at it ruefully throughout the afternoon, wishing he could do something to ease his hunger and his thirst. And when someone had asked him to help sort out the food they'd found, of course he'd instantly agreed.

So it was all spread out before him in neat stacks, hidden away in the corner so as not to cause mass chaos and mad dashes for whatever people could grab. There was a decent size pile of foil-wrapped airplane meals, which would at least provide some substance (though not particularly flavorful, one had to admit). Next to those were the small bags of snack foods, peanuts, chips, sunflower seeds; the typical airplane snacks, as well as a few things that had apparently fallen out of carry-on bags and were now to be claimed by the group of survivors. Then there was a rather large and quite comforting pile of waterbottles, the plastic, Poland Springs kind, as well as a few reusables that had also come from passengers. In all honesty, he didn't think anyone was going to care if they were missing their waterbottle when they all got out of here, as long as they got home safe and sound.

For a while now, a few of them had been passing out meals and water to the survivors. He'd deposited the wood he'd collected earlier with Locke somewhere in the middle of the gathering; he himself hadn't the first clue about how to go about making a fire, so he'd hoped someone else would be able to pick up on it, especially since the sun was not sinking. Hurley bent down and retrieved several of the foil-wrapped packages, and tucked some of the waterbottles under his arm. Then, laden with the refreshments, he rose and started forward through the group. He recognized one man from earlier, who appeared to have recieved nothing yet, and walked over toward him. "Hey man, you're the doctor, right?" He asked, eyeing the guy as he spoke. "Here." He offered one of the airplane meals out with his free hand, indicating that the doctor should take it.

[Jack Shephard]

Jack was looking down at the sand when he felt food being pressed into his hands. He looked up in to what was the closest to a happy face he had seen since he had woken up in the jungle. He smiled up at the rotund fella and took the meal, wincing as he did so. He had forgotten the cut. He opened the meal and took his face back from it to avoid the entrapped smells the foil had encapsulated.

"Thanks. And yeah, I'm the doctor. Call me Jack though, please? Doc makes me feel like one of Snow White's dwarves." He pushed the plastic spork included with the meal in to one of the unidentifiable globs of food and ingested it without tasting. "Thanks." He said through a mouthful of food. "What's your name?"

Jack looked up at him again as he swallowed, smiling, happy to find at least one hopeful face here. For some reason around this guy, he felt like smiling. He had an idea this guy had that affect on a lot of people.

[Kate Austen]

Kate Austen stared at the clear blue ocean and shivered violently, not from the cold ocean salt water that soaked her now tattered and bloodied clothing, not from the fear and elation of having fallen thousands of feet from the sparsely clouded sky and surviving with only a few scratches and bruises, but for the mere fact that the handcuffs were off, and for an instant she was free. She could feel the heat of the engines on fire at her left, heard the fading screams and calls of fellow injured passengers, smelled the lush greenery of the jungle behind her through the smoke, but none of it mattered. All that mattered was that he was dead. He had to be dead. She wasn't going to live out the rest of her days in a cage.

Her hair clung to her back as she tried to take a step away from the ocean lapping at her feet. She nearly stumbled and found a slight gash on her cheek was still trickling warm blood onto her shirt. She dabbed it away and moved towards a pile of seemingly dead bodies, she'd check every one if she had to, she needed to know that he hadn't survived. She breathed in and out of aching lungs examining every face that lay still on the ground or that passed quickly in front of her. It could have been hours, seconds, or days since they crashed, she had lost track of time, she hadn't noticed but she was completely dry from the hard work of toiling over bodies and limbs once belonging to them.

She chastised herself in her head for not helping the frantic people all around, if she could just find him the shaking would stop and then she might be of some use. She absentmindedly brushed some sand from her forehead as she walked away from the still softly whirring plane wreckage. It was smoldering but not as angry as it had been. How had this happened, she wondered, her stomach tying itself in knots with guilt. She hadn't really meant it when she begged that the plane would crash to keep her from her fate at home. She hadn't meant...this. She bit her lip and forced her shoulders still as she heard footsteps nearby.

[Jack Shephard]

Jack felt the wind pushing at his back as he finished his airline meal. Most of the survivors had come up the beach but there was one girl still by the wreckage, peering at a pile of bodies. A little lonesome for Jack's taste. Or morbid. Maybe she was checking for loose change. Not that it mattered much here. Nothing he couldn't fix. He stood and clapped the robust man on the shoulder. "You already told me your name. Hurley. I almost forgot. Hurley, I'm gonna take another..." His voice trailed off as Hurley eyed him, perhaps suspiciously. "It's for her, Hurley, please?" He pointed at the girl and Hurley relented, handing him another food tray.

Jack made his way slowly up the beach and noticed her tense up as he approached. "Hi." He said simply. She turned slowly, and the first thing Jack noticed was that she was beautiful. From the way her hair moved to the way her hips seemed to coil and sway as she turned fully. The second thing he noticed was the cut on her cheek. "I'm Jack. You looked a little upset. I thought you could do with some... some food, I guess, if you want to call it that." He looked down at the item and laughed. Suddenly the deed of offering her food seemed so mundane and stupid for some reason. He felt like he was asking the girl out, and they had just all been through everyone's worst fear. A plane crash.

She didn't speak at first and so he continued to ramble a bit. He had never been great around pretty girls, as his dad had reminded him often. "Well, I'll just leave it here, whenever you finish you know, whatever it is you were doing. Uh, and I'm a doctor, so, if you'd let me later on, check out that gash, I'd appreciate it." He leaned down to put the meal on the ground and winced again as the cut on his back flared pain. The meal dropped the last six inches to the ground and landed softly, seemingly fine. He stood back up and bestowed upon her one final smile before turning around to head back.

[Hurley Reyes]

The man smiled up at Hurley, and he couldn't help but return the expression. Hey, things weren't so bad, right? Sure, they'd just crashed on an island, and only about a third of the passengers had survived; but there was food, company, and now (he discovered, as he looked past Jack's shoulder for a second) fire. That was a comforting thought, as the dark was beginning to set in in earnest now. The man winced as he took the meal, but Hugo simply attributed it some injury he must have recieved in the crash.

He chuckled slightly at Jack's response. "Okay, Jack it is." Hurley watched in satisfaction as Jack took a bite of the food. He felt somehow responsible for people being able to eat tonight, since he'd worked hard to help sort out the food and water. He was happy that maybe it would bring even the merest of smiles to people's faces around the makeshift camp. And Jack's smile as he looked up at Hurley cemented that idea in his mind. The guy seemed actually, somewhat close to happy right now, even under the circumstances.

Hurley, I'm gonna take another... It's for her, Hurley, please?"

Hurley's eyes followed the invisible path of where Jack was pointing to a girl sitting alone, and he nodded and handed the tray over to Jack. "Sure man." He said with a nod, watching as Jack headed off in he direction. Then he made his way over to the fire, which was now growing in size as more wood was added. He took a seat near a few other people and set all the food down, selecting one for himself, as he had yet to eat. As he pushed the bland chicken into his mouth, his stomach let out a sigh of relief, and a small smile crossed his face again.

[Kate Austen]

As the man approached her from behind and began to speak, Kate cringed slightly, she hoped he hadn't been watching her long, she hoped he hadn't seen what she'd been up to. She supposed she'd cover her tracks with the simple lie that she'd been looking for a friend. Easy out. She sighed and tried to still her trembling hands as she turned to face him. The man was tall enough that she had to look up at him to meet his eyes, and when she did, her heart raced, though she'd deny that fact to herself for weeks to come. The man's shadow engulfed her completely as he dropped a small tray of food at her feet and introduced himself.

As she stood in the cool dark cast by his frame in front of her she had a chance to look around at what she'd stumbled into. She realized she must have been about her own affairs for quite some time. There were the makings of shelters along the beach, fires being built, lost children being tended and wounds mended. Kate should have been a part of this, but her life had become less than she had meant it to, a part of your humanity was lost when you were always running, always worrying, she thought sadly.

She pushed her hair behind her ears as the man who called himself Jack, mentioned he was a doctor and asked to see the cut on her cheek later. She didn't think it needed the attention, but she wouldn't mind letting him look at it again. He turned to walk away before she had a chance to say anything, leaving she and the airplane meal to their own devices. As she looked at his back she wished she'd been cordial enough to at least introduce herself, but that chance had seemingly passed. She breathed in again, her lungs still sore from breathing smoke and fuel, and noticed a fresh trickle of blood leak from the doctor's shoulder. He felt it too, though he tried to make as if he didn't in offering her one more smile.

She followed the few steps he'd taken up the beach away from her, and she found herself in his shadow again. " Hey Jack, I'll make you a deal, you let me look at your cut and I'll let you see mine. You know your shoulder's bleeding right," she asked, knowing the answer already and turning him back around. She stood on her toes to get a better look at the gash and it was deep enough that it clearly wasn't going to close without help. " You should probably have someone close this up for you," she said softly as she allowed him to face her again. "I'm Kate by the way, thanks for the uh food, that was nice of you." She smiled tentatively up at him.

[James "Sawyer" Ford]

Sawyer was sitting on a circular piece of wreckage in the centre of where the other castaways had gathered. He was trying to sit on the outside, but people just seemed to form around him.

"Here dude" Hurley said, walking past handing him a airline meal and a fork. Sawyer didn't respond and opened the meal up. He took a bite and was instantly not pleased.

"What the hell?" he said to himself, and put the meal down. He took out his cigarettes and lit it, trying to get the taste of what was labelled 'lasagne'.

"damn airline food."

[Jack Shephard]

Jack winced again as he felt her hand on his back, but it was gentle, and the pain was minimal. She asked to see his cut, made it sound like she even thought she could help. "You know how to sew?" He asked her the question hopefully. It would hurt, having this done with no anesthesia, but it would have to be done either way. She nodded gently, and he held up an item from a small gathering of medicine bottles and bandages he had already collected. It was a sewing kit. I could use a hand then, you up for it?" She nodded again. "And it's nice to meet you Kate. Here, let's go somewhere else. I'd rather save the others having to hear me cry like a little girl."

He led her away and she worked quickly and efficiently, pausing only once until Jack told her a story about one of his first surgeries. How he had tensed under pressure, nearly allowed a simple surgery to go horribly wrong, and how he had fixed it. He always fixed it, he told himself silently, and he always would. He felt pain at her work, she was definitely an amateur, but she wasn't bad for her first time sewing an actual person, Jack thought, and laughed.

"Nothing, nothing," he said, answering her unasked question. "Almost done? I need to get back to check on someone else. He's in pretty rough shape. You can come with if you want. I might be able to use a pair of steady hands." As he spoke, Jack winced again at Kate's one mishap. It hurt, but he'd be fine, and he tried hard to hold back any tears he felt coming in her presence. He didn't want to seem weak in front of anyone, but for some reason, especially in front of her.

[Kate Austen]

Kate was nervous, her hands were already shaking, but that was a lingering aftereffect of the crash and the reason she was on the plane, not just because she was about to stitch flesh to flesh. She pressed the two sides of the gash on the doctor's shoulder together with one hand and pushed the needle through his skin with the other. She focused on making perfect stitches, well as perfect as junior high home economics could do ya, but still, she tried. She wasn't trying to be delicate, she didn't want to hurt him, but he seemed sturdy enough, and she was more worried with getting it right at that moment.

The cool wind was picking up off the ocean and blowing her hair around over her back, it sent wave after wave of goose bumps down the length of her entire body and back, she had to stop to keep from shivering and losing the work she'd already done on his shoulder. She stilled herself until it passed, but she was still too long, thoughts of the uncertain future crept in until Jack replaced her mind's voice with his own. He was telling her a story about his first surgery and she managed to simply concentrate on his voice enough to continue, she even smiled as she completed the fifth stitch.

She swallowed hard as she pulled what appeared to be a light fishing thread tighter closing the wound, she moved her face closer to his skin to get a better look in the fading light, she was so close in fact her nose made contact with his warm shoulder. She startled herself and caught the faint smell of his skin at the same time, making her hands tremble again and tugging the thread too tightly. Jack winced and she apologized in a whisper accompanied by flushed cheeks and a smile he thankfully could not see. She made one more stitch and felt satisfied with the job. She tied the string and once again had to lean in close to bite it, cutting it from the small spool. He had mentioned needing to help someone else who wasn't faring well, though embarrassed from stabbing the doctor over a school girl reaction she thought she could redeem her earlier lack of concern for her fellow survivors by helping out.

" All done," she replied and wiped her hands over the tops of her thighs. " It's a good thing chicks dig scars," she laughed and winked at him wishing she was more skilled in the arena of home surgery for this occasion alone. "I'll tag along if you still think I'll be worth bringing," she laughed again. " Maybe I'll get better with practice, got anything else that needs stitches," she asked seriously but when his eyes immediately widened she smiled, " I'm kidding Jack."

[Jack Shephard]

Jack smiled and turned. "Thanks Kate. If I'm ever too busy I'll send anyone who needs stitches to you, hah." Jack pushed himself up from where he was leaning and put a hand on Kate's hip, feeling her warm tanned skin and smiling as he led her back towards camp. "I had to put him a little distance from the camp... I didn't want to scare people. He's out cold most of the time, but once in a while he comes to. He's uh, loud. I need to stop by camp to grab a mango I found earlier with someone else, then we can get going."

Jack led Kate back to camp and brought forth a mango from the duffel bag which had been left at his tent. Skinner was nowhere to be found, and that was just fine by Jack, who was only interested in learning more about Kate. "So, Kate, where are you from?"

They walked further down the beach, out of yelling distance to a spot where Jack had set up a small bed of leaves for the unconscious man. It was easy to tell what was wrong at first glance. The man had a large piece of shrapnel protruding from his lower stomach. It was a wonder he was still alive at all, Jack thought, and there was no way he could perform the necessary surgery. He would just have to try and keep him alive until after rescue.

"Well, here he is," he said softly to Kate, trying to keep from awaking the man. "No ID, so I've just been calling him John Doe. Want to get me some water so I can clean up his wounds? Then we can head back, it's getting late."

[Kate Austen]

Kate let Jack the doctor, lead her to the spot where he was keeping an obviously gravely injured man, if his screams were worth hiding him, then it had to be bad. Kate had seen carnage before, heck Kate had caused carnage before, but nothing like this, and she had her reasons, this just seemed so senseless and haphazard. How was it she survived with just one bad scrape, when all that was left of some of the others was a dismembered torso? She shuddered at what she was about to be shown, and as they came upon the man, she realized with a gasp of breath that burned like liquid fire, that reality was far worse than what she'd been imagining in her head.

Kate was either going to pass out or throw up, it was unavoidable, the metallic taste was filling her mouth, the edges of her sight line growing dim and her stomach was turning, every nightmare she had ever had was coming true, and it had nothing to do with the man's protruding intestines near her feet. It was simply his face. A face that had been haunting her every moment. Kate reached her hand to cover her mouth. She gripped a tree, and tried to force herself from vomiting and or falling down. How was this happeneing, what was she supposed to do, if the man at her feet lived, she was going to jail, maybe for the rest of her days, and if he saw her, everyone would know what she did, what she was, but if he died...she closed her eyes and tried to calm down, but she just couldn't.

" Jack, I need a minute..." she sputtered and walked a few feet away, her whole body screaming for her to simply run. Run like the wind away from this place, away from the situation, away from the marshall. She tried to catch her breath and stifle her own tears. She wanted to obey her gut, she wanted to run as fast as her feet would carry her, but she couldn't. Jack was again at her side. Was it him that kept her? She wiped her face and in barely above a whisper asked, "Is he gonna make it?" She knew no matter hwat Jack said, it wouldn't fix anything.

[Jack Shephard]

Jack hadn't expected Kate to handle the sight well, but he was surprised how poorly she was taking it. Especially after she had just stitched him up. He walked over to her and put a hand on her elbow as she walked away. "Take your time Kate. I know it's a bad sight. I should have warned you I guess. Sorry. It's my fault."

His sputtered apologies were cut off by her next question. Would he make it. She whispered it but asked him in a tone of desperation that again surprised him. She seemed very concerned for this one life, especially considering all the others that had been lost tonight. He supposed it was natural. She wanted to avoid the loss of any more life. Unfortunately, he wasn't so sure about the man's chances.

"I don't think so Kate. I mean, if we could get him to a real hospital, maybe, but... with the way things are looking now... I'll be surprised if he lasts another day."

He removed his hand from her elbow, wondering if he should hold her hair back. She seemed like she was going to throw up. And in all honesty, he had been wondering since he first saw her if her hair felt as smooth and silky as it looked.

His thoughts were snapped when he remembered his patient, laying on the ground. He turned back to him and kneeled beside him, checking his fever, which was still through the roof. "Kate, when you think you can, I could still use some water for his forehead. We need to break his fever somehow. Could you soak this cloth for me?" He held it up behind him, absentmindedly. As hard as she was to take his eyes off of, when Jack was looking at a patient, nothing else mattered.

[Kate Austen]

Kate forced herself to breathe steadily filling her mouth and lungs with the heavy island air, at least she assumed they were on an island. She hadn't given it much thought at this point, but it looked like just the kind pulled from a storybook or Disney cartoon. She turned slowly to look up at Jack and forced a small closed mouth smile at him. He released her hair and turned back to the marshall. He was on his knees and tending to the man who's case seemed hopeless, but this Jack showed no signs of giving up, it was like he didn't even consider that an option, Kate had never really seen that before, she supposed she could be wrong guessing at the man's intentions, but it didn't stop her.

For a brief instant she considered just telling this Doctor Jack everything....but as she took a step back to where the man lay that held her fate in his bloodied and mangled hand, she came to her senses. No with any luck, he'd take her secrets to the grave, that is if for just once luck would side with Kate, she certainly wasn't getting her hopes up though.

Jack turned back to her again and asked her for water, she was slightly embarrassed that because she'd spent her time looking for the marshall's body, that she had no idea where to find fresh water, or who to ask. She knew she could find it if need be, she was far from helpless especially in her own mind, but it was getting dark, and she was desperately thirsty herself, the metallic taste had faded and left behind an aching dryness so upsetting that she couldn't waste any effort on just walking off blindly. " You mind pointing me in the right direction for water Doc," she again forced a smile as she reached out her hand to take the towel from Jack.

[Jack Shephard]

Jack smiled and looked up at Kate, who had perhaps asked the most obvious question of all time. "Very funny, Kate." He pointed out at the vast ocean just a hundred or so feet away. "I think anything from that aisle should do just fine. We're not looking for a drink, that's what the mango's for. Just something to cool his head." Jack laughed and turned back. He looked at the man again whose body had been so terribly ruined by the plane crash. Jack wondered silently who he was, what he did for a living. He wondered if he had a family.

This led Jack's troubled thoughts to his own family. His poor mother, she had already lost her husband, and now she would probably think he was dead too. At least until rescue came. Where the hell was rescue though. It had been too long. They should have been here by now.

Jack's hand went against the marshal's forehead and he felt for fever. It was there. He was still stiflingly hot. In the back of his mind, Jack knew that this man had at most a day or two, if he was willing to fight. He leaned down close to the man's ear and whispered to him so Kate wouldn't hear, wherever she was.

"Hope you got something worth living for, bud."