Title: On An Island

Rating: PG-13

Paring: Jack/Kate

Summary: Thrown together alone on a deserted island following a horrific plane crash, Jack Sheppard and Kate Austin must learn to overcome their fears to survive, but in doing so, they're introduced to a world of redemption they never knew was available..and a chance for relationship that both thought they could only dream about.

Spoilers: This is AU season one, so if you haven't seen all of season one there may be some. Ask if you fall into this category.

Warnings: None. Even though it's only Jack and Kate on the island, I'm still sticking to a specific Jate timeline.

Disclaimer: Lost belongs to J.J. Abrams and Co. from ABC. On An Island is a wonderful album by David Gilmore.

Time passes slowly our hearts entwined

All of the dark times left behind

-"Where We Start" from On An Island by David Gilmore

Prologue: Where We Start

Pain. Excruciating pain. Darkness began fading, welcoming him to a blinding light, though when he opened his eyes, all Jack Sheppard could see were trees. And bamboo. A jungle. With a gasp Jack twitched, trying to take in the sudden new atmosphere with the new pain. Where the hell was he? The last thing he remembered was boarding a plane, telling a woman hitting turbulence meant nothing crucial, that it'll all be over..and now it was.

Nearby a dog barked. Jack's head turned to the side, fast as he forgot his pain. Breathing hard, he watched in painful agony as a golden retriever wagged its tell before running away, just missing Jack's head on the ground. He let himself have a moment as he watched the dog disappear into the jungle before turning back to his hellish reality. Whatever his injury was, it revolved heavily around what felt like a back wound, and Jack knew no matter how much pain he was feeling in his legs, laying on the jungle floor wouldn't mix in well with his blood.

Reaching out, Jack made a grab for a nearby tree. His legs felt like stiff crutches as he forced himself from the ground, grunting as he went. Body screaming in horror of the painful trauma, Jack gritted his teeth in attempts to ignore the fire rushing through his skin. His back shot out at the sudden upright position, and Jack grabbed with with a silenced scream. The pain told him at once that he didn't want to stand still, and using every once of strength he could to begin running, tearing through unfamiliar territory, charging past trees of bamboo- and a child's single white tennis shoe hanging on a tree.

Panting, Jack reached finally reached a beach. Waves crashed calmly to a sandy shore, the sky above a brilliant color of blue. As if nothing in the world were wrong. For a long, fearful, moment, Jack worried that he was alone. Confusion was taking over, and Jack's pounding mind was finding it hard to piece things together. But sudden passing smoke coming from his left told him where he needed to go, and Jack dashed in that direction, despite his protesting back. Before his mind was ready, Jack discovered what happened.

As horrific as the site in front of him was, the massive plane thrown on its side, parts scattered about the beach, was what stuck out the most. Then Jack really began to take in the site. Bodies were sprayed over the beach like some sick human fettucini. Blood stained the once white, sandy, beach. Jack let out an incredulous sigh. He hurt all over, and his eyes were watering at the smoke fumes. And the bodies..

Jack felt like he was going to be sick. Swallowing hard, Jack forced himself to make a quick sweep glance for survivors. God let there be survivors, Jack prayed desperatly. And there one was.

Walking in a daze through the pool of bodies was a young woman, certainly no younger than thirty, at the most. Brown curls hung around her face, highlighted with smoke and what could've been blood. Her movement was swift, graceful. Like an angel. Jack nearly grinned at her. He could've sworn there was some glow that illuminated her pathway, but maybe that was just from the side effects of his injuries. As she continued to walk, circling sadly around the bodies, Jack concluded that there was only one worried to descibe the woman: traumatized.

"Excuse me!" Jack called after her, his voice echoing off the thick hair. The heat from flames that danced randomly amongst the beach landed in uncomfortable beads of sweat on his skin. He watched her helplessly, with so much sympathy that he was sure he'd explode. The woman looked absolutely lost. "Excuse me!"

At the louder tone, the woman looked up. She looked startled, and the first thing she did was grab her wrist. Jack's eyebrows furrowed, but he decided not to ask, though he made a note to do so later. Assuming there was a later.

"Were you on this plane?" Jack asked her, approaching her carefully.

As he stepped forward, the woman stepped back, but nonetheless, she shook her head yes. Jack's breath suddenly became caught in his throat, and he had to force himself to continue speaking.

"Are you okay?" Jack said, concerned for the woman's dazed appearance. He pointed to her arm. Maybe, he decided, he shouldn't be depending on a later. After all, the morning, 'later' was after his father's funeral.. "Your wrist-"

"They're all dead."

It was a whisper of information Jack always feared the most. He couldn't even bring himself to look around for confirmation. The woman's lower lip began quivering. Her voice had sounded harsh as she immediately silenced herself. If that was from the smoke fumes, Jack knew that may not be good. But that was possibly the smallest of injuries- physically and emotionally- that this woman had indulged.

"What?" Jack forced himself to say, studdering a little.

This was all too surreal to believe. He really felt like he was a in a dream. Any moment now, Jack was sure that one of the flight attendants would wake him up. Or maybe, hopefully, he'd wake up to an alarm telling him to go to work. His father would be there as well, alive..

But at the same time Jack didn't want to be woken up. There was something about this woman, something that told Jack he should stay and watch over her. Something that told Jack she wouldn't be going away any time soon. Something that told Jack that she wouldn't hurt him, like so many had before.

And here he was, standing here and thinking all this about a woman he'd only known for a few seconds. Secretly he couldn't recall seeing her on the plane, but then again, it had been a big plane. Quite a good one too, fairly new. And now..now it was gone. And so were its people.

That's when Jack began to force himself forward again, determined that she was wrong. He dropped to the ground, falling into a random mass of bodies. Bones stuck out in numerous unnatural positions, blood coating any unripped clothing. Once again Jack felt like he was going to be sick, but once again he pushed that offer aside, feeling around necks for pulses. He found none. Letting out a cry of frustration, Jack threw himself to another bank of bodies. As he went around, feeling for pulses and checking injuries of the dead, the woman watched nearby, mesmerized by the stranger's determination.

Finally, Jack found what he was looking for. Singled out from the other bodies, a single man's form lay in the sand, a brutal cut bleeding from his head. But the worst injury was a shrapnel that stuck out from his side, blood already clotting around the wound. The most important thing, however, was that the man was breathing, unlike those around him. Jack grimaced, trying to decipher what he needed to do.

"Can you find me some water?" Jack asked the woman.

She tore her eyes suddenly from the man on the ground.

"You're going to try and save him?" She said in awe, staring at Jack with incredulous amazement, though with a hidden trace of hope.

"I'm a doctor," Jack informed, "a surgeon..I'm used to this kind of thing, but I need some help." He made sure he met her eyes. "Please?"

For a long moment she stared at him, as if trying to decide if he was trustworthy. With his pleading eyes, Jack desperatly tried to convince her that he was honest. He could save him. He had to. No longer would he let a death happen in his hands, and more death seemed the last thing this island needed right now anyway. Suddenly, his own needs and fears seemed unimportant. All that mattered now was saving this man and helping this woman.

"Okay," the woman whispered. She pushed some of her hair back behind her ear. Even covered in smoke and blood, Jack noted that the woman had a natural beauty about her, especially in her face. He also detected some kind of natural kindness as well, and suddenly Jack was grateful it was this woman he stumbled upon. Confidence was a tricky thing for Jack, and he was relieved to have someone there with him. Once again the sensational feeling of hope came through him, as if he knew it was a good thing to be with her. And yet they'd only knew each other for less than a few minutes. So when she finally asked: "What do you need?"

The grateful relief that came over him at her words didn't seem too terrifying.

Author's Note: To any of my "In the End" readers, don't worry, that story will be finished. The next chapter's in the works right now.