Brothers

“Where is it, where is it…” Jack pushed a notepad and a book aside, knocking them off his desk. He flipped through a few other papers, reading the headings as he did so. He sighed when he didn’t find what he was looking for and tossed them on the floor carelessly. Hands shaking with frustration, he grabbed his bottle of gin that was sitting next to his out-dated computer and took a swing, finishing off the bottle.

He slammed the bottle down and grabbed his sports jacket off the back of his chair, pulling it on as he continued to pace his apartment and scan the messy floor for what he was searching for. He checked his watch and sighed, pulling on his shoes and running a comb through his hair. He then touched his growing beard self-consciously and tugged at it, wondering if he had time to shave.

He didn’t. There was a firm knock on his door and he turned around, pulling the chain off, unlocking, and opening it. Charlie stood outside the doorway, grinning.

His hair was cut shorter and he was wearing black slacks, a dress shirt and dress shoes. His skin was pale and even, no longer sun-damaged. The scar he had received from the rock trap was hardly noticeable. The only thing that hadn’t really changed about him was his tiny figure and silly smile.

“Charlie!” Jack exclaimed, embracing him and half-pulling him into the apartment. But as an afterthought, he stopped Charlie at the doorway and held up a finger. “It’s a mess, give me a second.”

Charlie nodded and leaned against the doorway, watching as Jack hurried around the apartment, looking for something. “Jack…the beard…” Charlie noted, shaking his head disapprovingly. “I thought we had a deal. The beard goes so I don’t mistake you for a caveman.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Jack apologized, not stalling in his search as he flipped more books over and kicked things out of the way. “I haven’t really had the time.”

Charlie raised his eyebrows. “You obviously haven’t been too busy cleaning your apartment, mate. It’s like quicksand…if I step inside and struggle, I’ll only sink faster…”

Jack suddenly stopped and turned around, staring at Charlie.

“…Sorry.”

Jack shrugged and went back to searching.

Charlie sighed and moved to step inside. “If you’re looking for a sock or something, maybe I can help…”

Jack put a hand up, stopping him. “Hang on.” He went into his small bathroom and closed the door behind him. There, under a bottle of prescription pills, was a stack of papers. He sighed with relief and knocked the pill bottles over with his hand, folding the papers and shoving them in the pocket on the inside of his jacket. He turned to go, but paused, turning back around. The bottles had rolled over into the sink. He pulled one out and unscrewed the lid deftly, dumping three pills into his palm and tossing them into his mouth. Then he left.

When he came out of the bathroom, he noticed that Charlie had wandered into his apartment and was squinting up at a corner in the ceiling. Jack sighed and walked over to stand next to him. “What is it?”

“You’ve got an army of spiders, Jack,” Charlie pointed out, indicating the nest in the corner. He now glanced over at Jack, concerned. “Everything going ok? This isn’t like you…” he gestured the cluttered apartment with a wave of his hand.

“Not everyone can live in a townhouse in London like you, Charlie,” Jack said quietly. His tone wasn’t bitter, but actually a little sad.

“Sorry,” Charlie said again. “C’mon, Jack. We’ve got dinner reservations. We‘ll take your car.”

Jack’s breath caught in his throat and he shuffled his feet nervously. “Actually, lets take yours.”

Charlie snorted and rolled his eyes. “Jack, I took a taxi from the airport. Don‘t be ridiculous.”

“Well, we’ll just take another taxi, then…” Jack walked past Charlie and towards his door.

Charlie laughed again. “It would be so much cheaper if…”

“Charlie,” Jack cut him off. “I don’t have a car.” He didn’t turn around to meet Charlie’s eyes. He just walked out of the room and headed for the stairwell.

Charlie winced and followed him.

---

“We’ll have a bottle of ‘98 Perrier Jouet Epoque!” Jack called to their waiter, raising his hand to get his attention. The waiter nodded and made his way over to Jack and Charlie’s table, clearing off their dinner plates. They were at an expensive, urban restaurant in LA called ‘Blue Velvet.’ It was one of those places you could hardly get a table in unless you made a reservation a good deal ahead.

“That’s…er…two-hundred and thirty-five dollars a bottle, Jack…” Charlie pointed out, looking at the wine menu.

“Don’t worry, it’s on me!” Jack exclaimed proudly, grinning at the waiter. “He’s my brother in-law,” he told him, as if the situation called for an explanation.

The waiter just nodded slightly and headed back to the kitchen to get their wine.

“I’m going to tell him to split the check…” Charlie told Jack. “Champagne plus dinner? Here? That’s insane.”

Jack shook his head, dismissing the idea. “No. I’m paying.”

Charlie sighed and sat back as the waiter brought out their champagne, opened it for them, and poured them both a glass. Charlie sipped his slowly, watching as Jack downed his and went to pour himself more.

“Take it easy,” Charlie offered, grabbing the bottle and pulling it a little closer to his side of the table. “We’ve got a whole bloody bottle.”

Jack shrugged and changed the subject. “How’s Claire?”

“Great,” Charlie smiled.

“And Aaron?”

“Walking.” Charlie’s smile widened. “As of two weeks ago.”

Jack smiled to himself and sloshed his champagne around in his glass. “Can’t wait to see them.”

“The holidays are coming up,” Charlie said. “You can come stay in England with us - use the Gold Pass. You’re family, you know? I know sometimes it might not feel like that. You’re always welcome at our house.”

“Thanks,” Jack muttered. “I wish I could offer the same to you guys.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Charlie said quickly. “You’ll get everything sorted out.” He smiled at Jack encouragingly. “You know, I could even stay awhile and-”

“No,” Jack said. “Claire and Aaron need you home with them. Not taking care of me - I don’t need it.”

Charlie frowned and poured himself more wine and allowed Jack to do the same. They sipped in silence for awhile before Jack started rummaging in his coat pocket. He pulled out the stack of papers and set them down on the table. Charlie frowned at the stack.

“What’s this?”

Jack bit his lip and shoved the papers towards Charlie. Charlie flipped through them after a hesitation.

They were maps of the ocean between Australia and Los Angeles. Red marks were scribbled all over them. Some of the pictures were magnified and others were from a distance. All the other papers were records of Oceanic Airline’s flight schedule since September 22, 2004. The day they had crashed. Jack had highlighted certain sections of the records and made notes that Charlie couldn’t exactly interpret.

Charlie dropped the papers back down on the table and glared up at Jack. “That’s what this is about? Kate told me all about this, she said-”

Jack’s eyes widened. “Kate talks to you?”

Charlie blinked. “…Yes…” he answered slowly.

Jack’s eyes lit up angrily, and Charlie was actually afraid of him for a brief moment. “She doesn’t return any of my calls.”

“Maybe because of this!” Charlie said, stabbing the stack with his finger. “She said you leave messages on her voicemail, saying that you have to go back! That we have to go back! You didn’t want to spend time with me,” Charlie decided. “You just wanted to try to get me to do this with you.”

Jack stared down at the tabletop and didn’t respond for a few minutes. Charlie stared at him angrily, waiting.

“That’s not true,” Jack finally whispered.

“Yeah, Jack, ok,” Charlie spat, more than a little flustered as he took the last sip of the Perrier.

“N-no one else will listen to me,” Jack stammered. Charlie glanced at him now, feeling a little sorry for him. “You’re the only one that returns my calls. And…and I know it’s just because you married my sister and we’re family and you feel like you can’t ignore me. And I know that if we weren’t related by wedlock, you’d be just like them…”

They were getting a few stares from other tables. Their waiter lingered by the doorway to the kitchen with their bill in his hand, looking a little hesitant to interrupt.

Jack was playing victim now, and Charlie couldn’t help but feel sorry for the stable and strong doctor that he once knew. He glared at the people staring at them and spoke to Jack quietly.

“You know that I’d answer your calls, Jack,” Charlie reassured him.

“No one else does.”

“That’s because you’ve made them all nervous with all this nonsense about going back to the Island. They don’t want to go back. They don’t understand why you want to. I don’t understand, Jack.”

“Because if we go back…then we can…we can…” Jack stumbled over his words and fell silent.

“We can what, Jack?”

“We can all be together again. We were supposed to be there. It was fate. Help me talk to them all…they’ll listen to you…they like you…”

Charlie frowned and rolled up all the papers, putting them in his own pocket. “How many pills have you had today, Jack?”

Jack jerked his head up to look at Charlie. “They’re for depression.”

Charlie winced. “Yeah, I know. But how many have you had?”

“I’m supposed to take one a day.”

Charlie glared at him, getting impatient. “Supposed to, yes…but how many have you had, Jack?”

“…Eight,” he muttered.

Charlie clenched his jaw as the waiter left their bill on the table. He picked it up before Jack could grab it, read the total, and cringed.

Jack frowned at Charlie’s reaction. “Give me that.”

“I got it, Jack…”

“NO,” Jack screamed at him. Charlie flinched and the entire restaurant turned to stare at them. Not wanting to cause even more of a scene, Charlie shoved the bill in Jack’s hands.

“H-here, then.”

The red in Jack’s face went away and the other diners started to whisper and stare. Jack looked at the total and frowned, pulling out his wallet.

Charlie watched as Jack put a twenty dollar bill, two pennies, and a nickel out on the table. He continued to search for more money, but from the angle Charlie was at, he could see that it was empty.

Embarrassed, Jack muttered to himself as he continued to look. He was acting like he had it all together. “Plus the tip…total would be…”

Charlie frowned and shook his head, pulling out his own wallet and handing his credit card to the waiter as he walked by. Jack frowned and looked down, tearing the edges of his napkin.

“I’ll pay you back…” he promised.

“No need to,” Charlie responded, shaking his head. The waiter brought back his card and Charlie left the tip as well. “Come on, Jack…lets get you home.”

Jack stood up, pushing his chair in. “You know, I have the money…just not…not right now…not on me…”

“Yeah, ok,” Charlie sighed, leading Jack outside Blue Velvet where they could wait for their taxi. Jack groaned and sat on the stoop, resting his head in his hands.

Charlie watched him for a moment. “I’m calling the hospital tomorrow to tell them to take you off that medicine.”

Jack groaned again and didn’t look up. Charlie sighed and sat down next to him.

“You know, Jack…maybe it was fate. But I didn’t think you believed in it. Locke always said you were a ‘man of science.’”

“I believe in it now.”

“If everything happens for a reason…then…this happened for a reason. We were supposed to get rescued.”

“We messed with it. We screwed it all up. We were supposed to be there.”

“Jack…”

“You think everything that happened was just coincidence?!” Jack exclaimed, looking up now. “We were all connected…all on the same flight…I looked back on my old files at the hospital and I found out that Shannon’s dad was one of my patients! Claire and I had the same picture of our dad! Hurley owned Locke’s box company…we’re all supposed to be there!”

Charlie hung his head slightly and sighed. “We’ve all moved past the Island. It’s time you do the same thing…”

“You thought it was fate, too, Charlie. In case you’ve forgotten.”

“I haven’t,” Charlie said quickly. “But the last thing we should be doing is trying to go back.”

Jack shook his head, frustrated. “You don’t understand…”

“No. I don’t. But I think once we get you off those bloody meds, you’ll be thinking much clearer…”

“The reason I’m on them is for this. They think I’m crazy…”

“Well, they’re not working then, are they?” Charlie pointed out, referencing the medication. “If the purpose of them is to get you to stop thinking like this, they’ve done the exact opposite. You’re abusing them…”

“Yeah, you’d know about that.” Jack stood up from the curb and walked back and forth, waiting for the taxi.

Angered, Charlie stood up and pulled the papers out of his pocket, throwing them in the trash can next to the entrance. Jack yelled in protest, and Charlie thought for a moment he’d come at him swinging. But he stopped mid-stride and stared at Charlie, eyes softening.

“Why don’t you want to go back, Charlie?”

“Because if it was fate, and you know I believe in it, I still have to take care of my family. That’s my destiny, mate. Not going back to the Island. And don’t mention my old addiction.”

“Sorry,” Jack muttered, humbled slightly. He slumped back down and leaned against the brick wall. He stared ahead for awhile, eyes half closed as if he was thinking. Charlie was about to move to sit with him, but he stopped short when Jack burst into tears.

Charlie stood before him, stunned into silence. He hadn’t exactly seen Jack cry like this before. He’d seen him tear up and hide it, if anything. He had been like that when they had walked back from the spot Charlie had been hanged. Charlie had obviously been out of it - bumping his head against Jack’s shoulder and relying on the doctor to partially hold him up as they walked. But due to the closeness of their bodies, he clearly remembered hearing Jack’s stifled sobs and feeling his body quiver and shake with relief. He also remembered tilting his head back to look up at Jack to see what was wrong. His eyes had been red and he looked tired and sick. Jack noticed that Charlie was looking at him and had quickly smiled down at him, hiding his tears and trying to give Charlie a sense of relief during the hard time.

When they got back to the camp, Jack did his doctor things. Cleaned the wound, gave him water, asked him what happened. But it was when they lied down together to rest that night that Charlie had heard Jack actually sob. Charlie hadn’t known how to react. So he didn’t.

But now he was standing in front of his friend, who was technically his brother, and he couldn’t exactly turn away from him now.

Charlie sat next to him, resting his own back against the wall. They probably looked ridiculous - sitting outside of a five-star restaurant in the dark. And Jack - with his unnaturally huge beard and broken sobs wasn’t making the situation look any better.

“Jack, I think you want to go back because you don’t think anyone needs you anymore.”

Jack stopped crying and looked over at Charlie. “What?”

“I mean, you were our leader. And you were needed. And now here you are - back in the real world and you feel like no one is depending on you anymore. But, you know, I needed you. And Claire needed you. And Aaron. And we’re your family, Jack.”

“What are you getting at?” Jack mumbled, frustrated. He pulled his coat on around him a little tighter, even though it wasn’t the least bit chilly.

“I’m just saying that you have people that love you. And you’re not going to find those people if you go back.”

Jack started crying again. He pressed his forehead against Charlie’s shoulder and Charlie awkwardly wrapped an arm around his back. A group of people walked towards the entrance and passed them a weird glance. Charlie just gave them a silly, almost embarrassed smile, which unsettled them even more. Charlie sighed with relief as their cab pulled up into the roundabout. He hauled Jack to his feet and they climbed inside, neither of them speaking for the ride.

When they got to Jack’s apartment, Charlie logged onto Jack’s internet and blocked all of the Oceanic Airlines websites so Jack wouldn’t continue his research. Jack didn’t protest. Over the next few days, Charlie managed to cancel the prescription to Jack’s anti-depressants. His doctors and psychologists gave him hell about it, but Charlie, in the end, managed to convince them that Jack didn’t need them.

And he really didn’t. Jack was noticeably happier, but Charlie was worried about him all the same. He’d have to leave for London soon.

He was getting ready to leave, and he found himself watching Jack instead. Jack paced around his now-clean apartment, touching his clean shaven chin. Charlie wondered what would happen to Jack when he left. Would he go back to being the same? After all, being isolated from the people he loved had done this to him in the first place.

“You should come with me,” Charlie blurted.

Jack looked up. Charlie was delighted to see that Jack was looking like himself again instead of the Yeti. “What?”

“Come with me. To London.”

“I can’t,” Jack said, shaking his head. “My life is here.”

Jack should’ve felt silly saying it. Because - he had to be honest with himself - he basically didn’t have a life. He really just didn’t want to cause Charlie any more trouble than he already had. Charlie saw right threw him and frowned.

“Come on, Jack…take a couple weeks to pack and come stay with us in London.”

Jack sat, considering this. His family was there. Charlie was there. And Charlie had pointed out that a lot of Jack’s difficulties since rescue had surfaced because he didn’t have anyone to be with. All the other survivors drew themselves away from Jack because of how emotionally violent and angered he had become. And Charlie was right - it was because he had no one. And he thought he had no one because he had been rescued and taken away from one place where he genuinely felt needed. But it turned out the people that needed him the most and that he needed had been rescued right along with him.

And Jack had been rescued, in a way, by the person that was standing right in front of him.

-LOST-