By Dinuriel

Disclaimer: Don't own it… saving up for Sawyer and Boone (what's left of him) though.

Summary: AU. Jack's parents once adopted Sawyer, but Jack nearly got him killed and now he suffers from selective amnesia. Can Jack help Sawyer remember those lost years of his life while both of them are trying to suppress feelings for Kate? And what about the jungle…? NO slash.

A/N: I am so sorry this hasn't been updated in forever! It is so hard to stay true to the characters! Maybe that's why I have more stuff on fictionpress (but of course, fewer fantastic reviewers!) than on fanfiction… but I just had to write this, just like "The Art of Getting Even". Thanks for the reviews:

sillyya: Yeah, once the idea got into my head, I couldn't not write it. Glad you like it.

SpuffyShipper: Meh... a bit too late for the update soon thing, but it's good to hear you liked the premise. Sorry about the update (or lack of).

Kat: Nope, they don't realize it... yet...

Sawyerslover: Again, sorry for not updating sooner. I hope you enjoy this chapter though.

padfoot1979: I'm not sure if this chapter is longer or not, but here's the continuation- finally. Thanks for the review.

October Sky: I'm glad you like my writing style and ideas. I hope you continue to enjoy the story.

So, here it finally is... chapter two. Enjoy!

Chapter Two: Traumatic Amnesia

"The tracks stop here," muttered Locke, lowering himself to the ground, "It must have rained- not enough to wash out all the tracks, but enough to wash out some of them."

"Let's just find the dog and get back to camp," hissed Sawyer, "one of the others- the Pillsbury Dough Boy, most likely- might be gettin' into my stuff."

He took the lid off of the bottle of water he held and took a sip. It was warm, and he was in jeans- he was always in jeans.

"We will split up," ordered Sayid, "Locke will take me and Jack on the trail to the right. Kate and Sawyer, you will go left."

Sawyer nodded. "Gotcha."

He was quite relieved that it would be only him and Kate. As a fellow outcast and criminal, she was the only one of the other castaways he felt free to talk to, the only one who would listen. The only one who cared.

"So, why do you want to know about Jack's memory?" she asked a few minutes after they had left the others.

He shrugged. "I don't know. Just was curious."

"Really?" Kate pressed, unconvinced.

"Yep," he insisted, "'Sides, seems like a perfectly good opportunity to get to know old Doc a little better, don't it?"

Kate rolled her eyes. "You confuse the hell out of me."


"His name is James Ford," the social worker introduced the small boy, "I think he'll grow on you."

Mrs. Shephard reached out to touch his face. "Isn't he precious, Christian?"

To a mother, he must have been, with the big blue eyes and the angel hair, but Jack had been told that his parents were adopting another kid so he'd have someone his age to play with. His father had told him that the boy was ten, not even a whole year younger than Jack, but James only looked about eight, maybe nine. He didn't really react when embraced by Mrs. Shephard, he just continued staring, reminding Jack of a frightened puppy.

The social worker smiled. "Are you going to say hello, James?"

He glanced up at her briefly, then down at his own feet.

"He's a little shy," she apologized, "I'm sure he'll be quite the little chatterbox in good time."

Jack honestly couldn't say he believed her.

"I'm sure he will," agreed Mrs. Shephard with a smile, "Come, James. Let me show you your room."

She took him by the hand and started to lead him up the stairs.

"Jack, would you mind taking his suitcase?" Dr. Shephard requested, "I would like to have a word with Ms. Walker."

Shrugging, Jack picked up James's luggage and dragged it up the stairs into what had once been his own personal rec room. He had offered to let it be converted into a bedroom for his new brother, but now that he had an idea of what his new brother was like, he was beginning to regret the decision.

"Thank you, Jack," his mother acknowledged briefly.

She then turned away and began to organize James's clothes.

James was sitting on the bed, staring at Jack, partly in awe, partly in fear.

Awkwardly, Jack smiled. "I'm Jack. I'm your big brother."

The smaller boy nodded, then looked away.

He decided to press on. "You're ten, right?"

Another nod.

"I'm eleven."

"Jack, don't pester him!" his mother scolded, "It's very difficult for him, being sent to live with a whole new family! He'll talk when he feels comfortable. Won't you, Jamie? Sweetheart?"

The boy now christened Jamie didn't respond, verbally or otherwise.

Biting his lip, Jack slowly made his way into the hallway, fairly sure that neither his mother nor brother would miss him, completely unaware of the wide, scared eyes that watched him as he left the room.


Somehow, Sawyer and Kate ended up meeting Jack, Sayid, and Locke only about twenty minutes after they had split up. Their paths had intersected- and now, there was another fork in the unseen road.

"Jack, are you okay?" asked Kate, rushing to the doctor's side.

He did look somewhat pale, as if something were troubling him, but Sawyer really didn't care. He scowled- at this moment, Kate's choice of company was Jack.

"We should split up again," declared Locke, studying the surroundings.

Sayid nodded. "Who would like to go with Kate?"

"I'll go," volunteered both Sawyer and Jack at the same time.

Kate shook her head. "I'm not taking both of you."

"I'll go with Kate," decided Sayid, "Jack, Sawyer, you two go with Locke."

Jack nodded. "Fine."

He looked at Sawyer and shrugged. Maybe the two of them didn't always see eye-to-eye, but they could go for a while in each other's company if the need arose.

"Well, come on, men," beckoned Locke, "Who knows where the trail may lead!"


"Traumatic amnesia," began the doctor as soon as Dr. Shephard had joined his wife and son, "is usually temporary."

Dr. Shephard nodded. "I know. I'm a doctor too."

"Did you talk to Jamie?" asked his wife in desperation, "What did he say?"

Jack shifted uncomfortably. This was all his fault.

"The most recent thing he remembers is the night his parents died."

"The night his parents died?" repeated Jack, "But that was seven years ago!"

The doctor nodded. "As I said, traumatic amnesia is usually temporary."

Jack frowned. "Usually?"

"There may be some repressed memories," admitted the doctor, "but-"

Mrs. Shephard stood. "Repressed memories? You mean my baby will never remember me?"

"Do you not understand the meaning of the word temporary?"

Looking out the window on the door, Jack saw a quick flash of Jamie running down the hallway, being chased by three nurses.

Still quite the ladies' man, he thought to himself, shaking his head.


Sawyer pulled a cigarette out of the pack he'd taken, lit it, and took a dreg. Here he was, camped out in the middle of the jungle with a knife-wielding geezer and his archrival. Why couldn't he have just continued on with Kate?

Jack stirred in his sleep.

"Hey…" he muttered.

"Shut up," growled Sawyer.

"Hey… stop being such a baby."

He raised an eyebrow. Why did that sound so familiar?


Fifteen-year-old James Ford let out a sigh of relief as he slid into the passenger seat of the car that had just stopped in front of him.

"Thank you," he muttered breathlessly.

The driver shrugged. He could have been as old as twenty-five or as young as nineteen, but whatever his age, he seemed hard. Cold. Tough.

"Name's Hibbs," he introduced himself, "Yours?"

James frantically searched his head for an alias. "Trenton."

It felt odd, using the name of his father's accountant, but he figured a fake name would be useful. Besides, a cop car had just sped after him- he must have been a fugitive or something. He didn't remember. Seven years of his life- gone. All because some punk kid who called him 'Jamie' (which no one had ever called him in his life as far as he could remember) slammed into a taxi.

"Well, Trenton, where to?"

He shrugged. "I don't care."

Hibbs grinned. "That's just what I wanted to hear."

A/N: And so that chapter ends. Well…? Is it just me, or was Sawyer really quiet as a kid? Because after seeing 'Outlaws', I figured he was… although granted, in that flash back he was hiding from a gun-wielding killer, but I just couldn't imagine that kid talking a lot, despite how much of a loudmouth Sawyer is as an adult (of course, he's a loudmouth with gorgeous hair). I don't think this chapter was as good for some reason... Please review. Thanks.