Fall from Grace
Part 3: Learn to Be Still

As hung-over as he was he found it difficult to fall back to sleep. His back was stiff and the redness around his eyes had not dissipated any, making him look haggard in the crest of light that was flowing in from under the door. Kate and Sawyer had long since vacated the room leaving him to stew in his thoughts that bubbled hotly in a wild race across his brain.

Jack rubbed his neck as he sat up automatically reaching for the glass on the table. The amber liquid sloshed against his lips as he slugged it back in one heaving gulp, catching every last drop with his tongue. He groaned as he turned the glass over clumsily in his hands; wanting more, needing more.

There was plenty back at his apartment.

Slowly, he twisted his legs over the edge of the bed and began a languid stagger toward the doorway. His balance was off causing him to stumble over his feet, but the muscles in his legs kept him upright while the glass tumbled out of his hand.

Kate grabbed him by the wrist before he had a chance to sink down into the shards and guided him up the hall. Somewhere in mid step he froze, giving her a calculating look.

“Jack.” For a moment she was sure she saw a flicker of something more than anger but when he turned his head it was gone, replaced by the feral glower of an intoxicated man who didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Jack, come on.” She tried again, this time positioning her hands to either side of his face, forcing him to look at her; feeling the rough beard that made her skin prickle as she explored his jaw line with her fingers. He visibly flinched under the contact.

“Why are you doing this to yourself? This isn’t you, Jack.”

He swallowed hard, feeling the heat of her hands radiate to every single part of his body as he tried to shrug away with a withered gasp.

“I have to go.” His voice had lost the unwavering certainty that Kate was used to. She dropped her hands in her lap and stared up at him.

“Do you really think running is the answer? That drinking yourself into oblivion will make things better because it won’t Jack. You know it won’t” She stated coolly.

“Than what do you want me to do? I can’t be the leader you saw on the island. I’m not that person anymore. I can’t be…”

“Perfect.” Kate finished.

“And I don’t want you to be, but you need to let us in Jack, you need to let us help you.”

“Why?” He sneered. His expression was stony as he hauled himself to his feet, continuing in a direction that was unknown to him.

“Because I happen to give a damn what happens to you.” She almost whispered. Jack turned but did not stop walking. He couldn’t stop, for that would mean that he would have to face his fears, it would mean that he would have to face her.

“Still adamant about leaving him to his own devices Freckles?” Sawyer, now fully dressed, quipped almost casually. He had his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the doorframe, watching the entire affair in utter silence.

“I thought I could get through to him,” she said quietly.

“He’s drunk.” The blonde haired man shrugged. “Right now he’s only interested in how many shots of tequila he can knock back.”

“Right Doc?” He shouted listlessly earning an incredulous look from Kate. “Isn’t that what they taught you in medical school? Do you run away from your patients too or only when it counts?”

The first punch was thrown before he could even consider dodging but he blocked it with considerable ease and sidestepped the next.

“Freckles get the door,” Sawyer grunted, forcing the intoxicated man against the wall. He felt a fist angled sharply into his stomach and bit back a wince.

The expression on Kate’s face was one of horror as she watched the struggling men: Sawyer, considerably stronger and sober and Jack, dull eyed and enraged, as they bore down on each other.

“Any time now Sweet Cheeks!”

She took a second to respond, deciding that neither man was in any state to argue with. What happened next occurred so fast that she was only half sure that it actually happened. Sawyer ducked his head and forced Jack against him in a makeshift fireman’s carry. The next moment they were all standing outside on the veranda facing the ocean.

“You don’t know anything about me,” the doctor hissed. His voice was muffled by the roar of the tide as Sawyer released him and he tumbled backward onto the sand. His hands broke the fall with a dull thud that made him whimper, trying to catch his breath.

Sawyer too was panting hard and had to shake his head to brush the rugged columns of sandy hair away from his brow. His gaze was piercing, watching the doctor, waiting for him to make the next move.

“Not bad Doc, you fight pretty darn well when you’re drunk.” He produced a wry grin, still feeling winded and oblivious to the pointed glare that Kate had fixated on the back of his neck. She looked at Jack who met her line of sight with a formidable scoff.

“Why can’t the both of you leave well enough alone?” He scowled, diverting his attention to the rise and fall of the ocean. Like molten silver it stretched into the gray expanse of sky, making it difficult to tell where the water met the clouds. Jack stared at it longingly as though no longer aware of the two sets of eyes watching his every move with a cautious intensity. He inwardly shivered, suddenly becoming aware of the heavy, salt laden breeze caressing his skin. Clad in his boxers he sat in the sand looking dazed as his eyes settled on the swelling whitecaps strike the stony cliffs of the beach below. The sun hung lethargically in the crimson afternoon sky, half blanketed by a low, sweeping layer of fog that was gradually making its way inland.

Sawyer noticed Kate slip through the sliding door of his kitchen and promptly followed suit.

“Do you have any spare blankets?” She looked up at him as he moved toward her.

“Well gee Freckles, no need to be modest.” A slow smile appeared on his face.

“It’s for Jack, Sawyer.”She said blandly.

“Just check’n, Sweetheart.” He winked and pointed toward the living room.

“There’s a spare one on the couch.”

He gave a mock whistle. “Hell, it ain’t all of us who can look that good in flannel; the Doc really has something going for him there. Don’t ya think the beard really brings out his eyes?”

She laughed a little and watched him wander down the hall, searching for something.

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