standardblack: ([Hydra] In The Halls)
I missed a lot of opportunities in my life...chances to put myself out there and indulge in new experiences that I otherwise might never have had a chance to. The chances to do something great, to meet and know people who could have changed my life...

It didn’t start that way, the beginning, I wasn’t afraid to take those risks. When I needed a new experience I went after thought for what could happen, no regard for anything but what I could gain.


I found that in Pukhet. I even found that with Achara. Being in that place...furthest corner of the world that I could find, completely alien and almost dangerously exotic...being there alone gave me a sense of freedom and peace I hadn’t known in a long time.

And Achara...she changed me. It was more than what was the way she made me feel. Being with her...the moments we spent on the beach or at her brother’s restaurant, or even just talking with her gave me a level of contentment I hadn’t felt in years. Fucking her was rough and wild and strangely sweet. Being with her and feeling that good without actually loving was liberating in a way.

Being with her...knowing she had something to made the revelation that much more thrilling. It hurt that much more when I pressed that divide and made her mark me with the identity I had spent my whole life trying to run from. I didn’t want it...the things, the power I knew lived inside me but denied for so long.

I never wanted to be a leader. I never asked to be more than anyone else. I just wanted to be me.

She gave it to me in pain, blood, and ink...and even though I had finally stopped running, it didn’t mean I was ready to bear my burden.

That didn’t happen until I came here.


If I could do things differently...I’d have been less afraid of taking chances. Because the ones I did take, however terrible the price I paid...they were too important to relinquish to fear.

Muse: Jack Shephard
Fandom: LOST
Words: 367
standardblack: ([Hydra] In The Halls)
"A photograph is a secret about a secret. The more it tells you the less you know." — Diane Arbus


Muse: Jack Shephard
Fandom: LOST
Words: 318
standardblack: ([Emote] Out of Destruction)
"It is better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for what you are not." -Andre Gide

I’m not a good man...everyone thinks I’m a good man, but it’s not true. And every day, it eats at me...what they don’t know. What none of them will ever know. I can only pray that they never get to see that face...the one that can kill. The one that *has* killed.

It’s a constant struggle to fight the things I feel...this ugly black monolith that lives in my head and heart. People think evil is cold, that it feels nothing...they’re wrong. They’re so wrong...darkness is hot and alive and, oddly enough, so bright it hurts.

It’s all about feeling...too much and too hard and too furious. And I don’t know how to stop. Love, hate, anger, grief...I have to be careful with them all. I’ve loved and mourned myself into places I hope I never go again, but I’ve also been pulled out of the blackest holes by these things inside me...flames that never seem to burn themselves out.

The world calls it virtue. I call it pain.

I envy Sawyer that...the freedom of being what he is. I know he’s not as bad as he’d like people to think with his forced misanthropy and his sarcasm...but he doesn’t have to hide the darkness in him. He’s hated, and honestly...but he’s also loved the same for the good in him he insists on locking away.

Kind of ironic, I guess...this weird sort of jealousy. Because at the end of the day...of all the people in the world, I envy a con man for his honest living.

Muse: Jack Shephard
Fandom: LOST
Words: 269 (w/o quote)
standardblack: ([Emote] No Hero Here)
Any of my people...everyone that survived that plane crash. I’d give my life for them in an instant, and not because I trust them...not even because I have any deep feelings for them. Well...maybe that’s not entirely true. There’s forty-plus people that survived the plane crash, and out of all of them? I only really know a handful. Kate, Faith, Sawyer...those are just three. Charlie, Claire, Shannon, Boone...there’s a young woman named Nikki in the group, but the only reason I even remember her name is because she got upset with me for calling her Nicole at some point.

I’ll willingly give my life for them because I don’t know them all...because I can’t. I’ll do it because there’s no one else here *to* do it. These people needed a leader...I didn’t ask for this, but now it’s mine, and I have to be willing to do anything to protect keep them safe.

Most importantly, though, I’ll die for them...because no one else should have to die.


There’s two people specifically I’d die for in an instant...maybe more readily than the rest of the group.

There’s obvious reasons why I’d die for important she is, how I’ve come to care of her...but she helped give me something no one else ever has, something I value more than my own life. I’ll die for her because I’ll die to preserve that.

And that’s why I’d also die for Faith...though there are other reasons, among them being trust. I trust her to do the same for me, and for anyone on this island. Not because she cares, and not because it’s right...but because it’s in her. Regardless of what she did before, or how bad she may be, or *thinks* she is. I’ve seen her save lives...I think it’s more natural in her to be a hero than it ever will be in me.

But these two alike and so different...they changed me. They mean different things to me, but they’ve both taught me the same thing.

I never knew I was doing it, but it took them to make me see that everything in my life has been about getting away from...everything. And these two, these took them to make me realize that it was okay to stop running.


Muse: Jack Shephard
Fandom: LOST
Words: 401
standardblack: ([Emote] No Hero Here)
[locked to all those who are unaware of Jack’s romantic history]

Truthfully? I don’t think I’ve felt safe in years...not since my divorce. Sara...I felt safe with her. My whole life with her was safe and comfortable, and as close to perfect as I thought things could be for a long while.

But perfection isn’t possible...I found that out the hard way. And I spent a long time after that making sure that I didn’t feel safe. I didn’t want to feel that way again...I never wanted to feel that way again. That warmth, that comfort...that knowledge that I had something in my life to look for no matter what I did or where I was...I wanted it gone.

I wanted to spin without a reference point, and I didn’t care where I landed at the end of the day. I didn’t just want to feel that loss of security and control, I wanted to *become* it. I lost myself in that freefall rush...and I *did* become it for a while. I didn’t just stop feeling safe...I wasn’t safe to cross, or even be around.

It all happened in Thailand...things that even now don’t define themselves with individual memories. It’s a single, scary rush of raw, brutal feeling and terror that brought out darkness in me that I didn’t even know I had. When I came back to the States, I was different...everyone saw it. Everyone knew, and it wasn’t just the tattoos that were on display in the locker room.

I saw it when I looked in the eyes were never the same. They were darker...harder. If the eyes are windows to the soul...I think it shows that I lost a piece of mine.

But ever since the crash...when I’ve seen my reflection, looked into my own’s different. They’re still hard...but not as dark.

And there’s someone who doesn’t see the darkness, or the hardness when I look at her. Or if she does, she doesn’t care...maybe she even accepts it as part of the package. And maybe that’s why I can’t get away from her, or the way she makes me feel.

She makes me feel Thailand again...the terror, the freefall, but it’s never dangerous. It’s always warm, heady...intoxicating. Right.

It’s not safe...but it’s the next best thing.


Muse: Jack Shephard
Fandom: LOST
Words: 403
standardblack: (Inside Relentless Mind)
He wasn’t angry at her. Not in the least.

Jack stood there, watching Kate sink into Sawyer’s arms...a blurred, black and white mass of humanity and bare, tangled limbs on the floor of a cage outside the facility somewhere, coming through the surveillance monitor embedded in the wall before him. He watched as their lips met...slow and soft, as she shifted in his arms just a little, just enough to get closer.

For a moment, an image was superimposed over the two of them in his mind’s eye...features with a beauty that was more handsome than extraordinary, that came together as beauty should and not in bits and pieces of what should have been a very plain, very ordinary looking woman.

Kate shouldn’t have been as lovely as she was...but somehow the curly brown hair, the freckles, the simple green eyes...they came together in an image that haunted his dreams. Sara was beautiful as a woman ought to be.

The man in Jack’s mind had no face...he never would.

Once she’d been fixed he’d left her, all without ever straying from his home or the arms of the woman he’d married. He’d been so quick to have her...and now he wasn’t. He wasn’t overly eager, and he was cautious with the new, shining thing he’d found with the dangerous, wounded enigma calling herself Kate Austen.

This time he’d been too cautious...the one time he’d held back, he realized that he hadn’t held on hard enough. Not like he’d held onto Sara.

He wasn’t angry at Kate. He wasn’t really even angry at himself. And though the old hurts rose, threatened to choke him...he didn’t mourn, didn’t grieve the loss right in front of his face.

He was drowning in his mistakes, but he was done fighting them. He let them choke, stopped swimming and breathed in the dark water, allowing it to fill his lungs and let him sink. There was a measure of comfort to be had...a shred of warmth and life, knowing that she had somebody. He had a fairly confident bead on was ultimately how he knew he’d get the heroin from him.

They really did share a connection...and Sawyer wouldn’t hurt her if he could help it.

Jack only prayed that Sawyer’s notion of what he could and couldn’t help fell in line with his.

Muse: Jack Shephard
Fandom: LOST
Words: 401
standardblack: (We Know Who You Are)
Contrite...funny word, that. )

Muse: Jack Shephard
Fandom: LOST
Words: 560
standardblack: (Inside Relentless Mind)
We’re all answerable to someone...a boss, a spouse, a parent or guardian. At the end of the day, we’re all held accountable for our actions.

But above all else, when all is said and done we’re answerable to ourselves for what we do. That’s free will...doing something and knowing that, if nothing else, you’ll do what you do knowing that no one is to blame but yourself for the outcome. You can’t share your victories, and you can’t shirk your failures. It’s all on you.

It’s one of the reasons I’m not a religious man..God and Fate, I don’t believe in either one...not insomuch as entities outside myself. If you’ve ever read a book called STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND, you know what I mean. The theme and ultimate credo of that novel... “Thou art God”’s the ultimate statement of personal responsibility and the ultimate subservience to a higher power than yourself.

It’s like the book says, even God can’t escape His own will...and neither can we. At the end of the day, we have to answer for the choices we make. Thou art God.

There’s no arrogance to’s a frightening and painful notion to consider, that there is no omnipotent power that can save our souls. Yes, I believe in souls, I believe in the potential for something more...but I don’t believe we’ll get there by surrendering our will to an invisible all-powerful being.

We are who we are because we choose to be that way...and our lives will be richer or poorer for the choices we make. It’s a terrible burden, and it’s also a precious gift...that realization of your own power.

Me? I’ve yet to learn how to master mine...but I’m working on it.

And knowing what I do? Suffice to say, relinquishing my free will isn’t something I’ll do easily.

Muse: Jack Shephard
Fandom: LOST
Words: 315
standardblack: (Inside Relentless Mind)
"When the gods wish to punish us, they answer our prayers."

-Oscar Wilde, An Ideal husband, 1893

I never asked to be a leader. )

Muse: Jack Shephard
Fandom: LOST
Words: 480
standardblack: (Jack Voices In The Dark)
My polar opposite...okay, I know it may sound a little crazy, but I think that my opposite would be a man without any fear of the things that really count. Someone who has no doubts, no inhibitions...who can find even a grim measure of peace in himself.

Again...I know, it’s a little strange, but I can explain. When I say a man with no fear, I don’t necessarily mean a man who isn’t afraid of anything...*or* Stan Lee’s Daredevil, so you can forget about that one right there. I’m talking about someone that isn’t afraid of the more frightening aspects of giving yourself up to something, or someone. Someone who’s not afraid to feel...not afraid to care. It’s the fine line between commitment and love...dedication and desire, need.

I can do commitment. Too often, though, to me it’s all about perpetual motion...the living machine. If I stop, I’m dead. And dead is can’t come back from it. Every time I’ve ever stopped, someone’s gotten hurt. I know that sometimes when I *didn’t* stop, people got hurt, too...but no one ended up dead.

I question...everything that I am, because I can’t remember the last time I was my own man. My father made me a great doctor, he made me a man that could stand on my own...but usually it was because I had nowhere else to stand. I lost track of what was me and what was him a lot of years ago, and I don’t think I’ve ever really gotten that back. I don’t know if I ever will.

There are things in me I don’t want anyone else to see...things I don’t want anyone else to know. They eat at me...gnaw at me, burn at my brain and whatever soul I may have until I can barely stand it.

You’s kind of screwed up, but I think my polar opposite would be Sawyer...because he invests *everything* into being what he is, and he does it without being afraid of it. The one thing I know we share is that we’re both capable of being mean sons of bitches, but Sawyer...he knows it, and he’s at peace with it. Even the better nature he hates himself for having...he can fight it all he wants, but he knows it’s there and he accepts it, along with the bad.

He’s just as messed up as I am...but he’s not afraid to be that way.

I, on the other hand...I think I always will be.

Muse: Jack Shephard
Fandom: LOST
Words: 434
standardblack: (Inside Relentless Mind)
From the pages of a Dharma Initiative notebook...

Over sixty days ago, Oceanic Flight 815, Sydney to LA, crashed on an island that seems to have avoided detection from the outside world. Between sixty and seventy people survived the initial crash. Forty eight days in, forty nine of those survivors remained.

I'm one of them.

My name is Jack Shephard...I'm a spinal surgeon from Los Angeles. I was in Sydney to find my father, and returning home to bring his remains back for burial. Since the crash, I've been doing my best to survive on this island...not just for myself, but for the others who've placed their trust in me to get them through this. I've seen all manner of strange things, and heard even stranger.

I've heard of polar bears lurking in the tropical jungles. I've *seen* monsters made from nebulous black smoke. I've stood by as members of my camp were abducted and stalked by a group of people that occupied this island before us...the Others. I've unlocked a buried hatch and discovered a button that needs to be pushed every 108 minutes...otherwise it's the end of all things, according to some. I don't know the truth, but until several days ago, I was pushing that button without fail.

Then the Others came for *me.*

I was taken from my camp...from my friends...myself and two others, Kate Austen and James Ford, goes by the name Sawyer. It's been days, and I haven't seen either one of them...I've been locked in what used to be a shark tank in an underwater facility that belonged to the same group that made the button I used to push...the Dharma Initiative. A woman named Juliet brings me my meals and...I'm not sure, tries to offer me some sort of twisted companionship. Another man, Benjamin Linus, sees me now and again with an agenda of his own.

He's dying...and he wants me to fix him.

Yesterday Juliet brought in a notebook and a pen with my food...she said she thought it might help if I could put down my thoughts. She said she thought it might be a better diversion than the TV they wheeled in on the other side of the glass. The hell of it is...she's right.

Under the radar, she's asked me to do something...something big, something that goes against everything I believe in, even though it appeals to the worst of my current predilections towards revenge...towards a means for escape.

She says that I can trust her. I hate her for it...because I know I can't believe her.

And yet...I do.

My name is Jack Shephard...and in just about a day, I'm going to have to decide whether or not a man deserves to die.

Jack Shephard

((OOC: Hey, all! I'm a little late to the dance *curse be unto RL*, but Jack here's strictly canon through S3, so to those who are spoilerphobic, all of Jack's posts will likely contain spoilers for the whole series, and S3 in particular. I will, however, be putting all of his spoilery challenge responses up in the comm as links to his journal, featuring nonspoilery teasers. He's open for RP, though...granted, he can't do much in captivity, but he could always use a little company! :P))
standardblack: (Jack Scrubs)
Do no harm. The words had once held such hope and promise for him...a future where suffering could one day be a memory and the name of ‘healer’ would always mean something. He knew that the weighty responsibility of saving lives would always belong to him, and that the accolades which came with it wouldn’t always belong to him.

“Who’s working anesthesia?”

“She is...this is Anthony.”

This he was ready and willing to accept back in med school...that his work might be thankless at times and overwhelming at others, but always he would take comfort in the knowledge that he had a gift he was sharing with the world. He was helping others, and saving lives.

Then he lost his first patient.

“Gloves and gown.”

“Jack...thank you.”

The first set of dead eyes he was ever responsible for shone out of his face as he grabbed the slim, delicate wrist in front of him, hating the satisfaction he felt at the feel of bone grinding, the electric spark that danced over his skin at the soft, breathless gasp of discomfort.

“There’s a bullet out there waiting for...for my friend.” He spat, dark eyes locked with sterling blue. “I’m not doing this for you, and I’m not doing this for him.”

All illusions had been stripped away when he called his first time of death...when he turned to the face of God and found an empty void. He wasn’t a saver of lives, he could only prolong them before the darkness finally claimed them by one.

Until he met Sara.


“I’m a doctor.” he bit off tersely, releasing Juliet’s wrist and stepping back over to scrub his hands again. “I have to try and save his life.”

“But you said--”

“Not Ben’s!” he snapped, glaring up at her for a moment before focusing on his hands again...soap and water, hot as he could stand...not for cleanliness, but for the pain that would clear his head of the red haze threatening his sanity.

“I have to try and save Sawyer’s.”

Because he knew that even if he fixed the man on the table...another man was still going to die.

Muse: Jack Shephard
Fandom: LOST
Words: 377
standardblack: (Jack No Hope)
I’ve done a lot of things I regret in my life…I’ve also got a lot of regrets about who I am, things I’ve allowed to happen…things I didn’t allow to happen…things I missed out on. But that’s not unusual in anyone’s life…we all have things we regret.

The one thing I regret the most, however, isn’t something that I did or did not do…it’s something that I didn’t get to hear.

The one thing I regret more than anything…is that I never got to hear *him* say it.

Everything that Sawyer told me…about the chance encounter he had with my father in Sydney...the things he said there were things that I wanted to hear. They were things I *needed* to hear in his voice, his words. Even if it was a damn phone call, I needed to know what he had to say, and I needed to hear it in his voice.

I needed the hesitations between breaths, the stammer he got when speaking was difficult. I needed the touch of arrogance that was always in his voice and manner to inflame when he started talking about something he couldn’t handle…as if making someone else feel small could help him get through the difficult task of admitting to something that was totally against his nature.

I needed my father to tell me…because then he might not have died in Sydney. Maybe I would have come for him earlier. And even if I hadn’t? Even if that one phone call changed *nothing*…if I had known then what I know now, I wouldn’t have been so desperate to bury my father so quickly.

I know what Sawyer did was a gift…his own way of saying goodbye, thank you, and everything else in between before leaving for what might have been for good…but as grateful as I’ll always be to him for that, I’ll always regret that the voice that told me my father loved me was a Southern drawl and not my father’s crisp, careful diction.

I will always regret that I needed it to be over.

Muse: Jack Shephard
Fandom: LOST
Words: 345
standardblack: (Out of Destruction)
Maybe I am somewhat impulsive...a little more than I’d like. Usually I give most things a fair amount of thought, but sometimes...well, you know. Heat of the moment, acting on emotion rather than intellect...when you think with your heart or your gonads rather than your mind.

But when looked at rationally, I suppose, maybe that’s part of my problem. I know...I know I have a problem with letting go. Of anything...of everything. I’m a physician, and to a degree a scientist so I understand the raw importance of reason, rationality. I’m not given to flights of fancy...I think most everything in my life through.


I think if I want to be honest with myself, though...I am, if nothing else, a visceral man. I try not to be...but I am, and I can’t change that. I embrace logic, I favor logic...but I can’t help the fact that I...I *feel* things. Maybe it’s all a part of my own fucked up commitment issues, I don’t know...but when I feel things they’re a part of everything inside me.

Joy, love, empathy...hate, anger...I try, but I can’t hold them back, and I can’t diminish them. And here on the island, where life and death are more than just my stock in trade? It’s a lot worse.

You’d think I was crazy, given the way he acts, and the way people think of him around here, but I think, in some ways, Sawyer may be a better man than I am...he may be flighty? But his impulses are something he has much better control of. The man does *nothing* he doesn’t want to, and I envy him that.

I don’t think Sawyer would have followed his ex-wife around for weeks on end, trying to find the man who took her away from him. He wouldn’t attack his own father...he wouldn’t have trouble letting go the way that I do.

He embraces his impulses, and so he controls them...but when your impulses embody the darkest parts of you, how can you embrace them without being consumed by them?

How can you control that *without* giving in to the darkness?


Muse: Jack Shephard
Fandom: LOST
Words: 367
standardblack: (Jack Voices In The Dark)
We all make mistakes in our lives, and I honestly believe that most everyone deserves a second chance in opportunity to make things right. Not to erase or correct the wrongs we’ve can’t erase things, and some mistakes just can’t be undone. I mean...if you steal from a friend and that friend dies, you can’t give the money back.

But I do believe we can make up for our mistakes...and I believe that life can give us a chance to make certain things right. I don’t chalk it up to fate or destiny or even any kind of God, despite what Locke might’s all a matter of being in a certain set of circumstances that presents an opportunity. Whether or not we take advantage...that’s our choice. It’s all within our power.

Shortly after we crashed, I found out that two people on the plane...they weren’t who they first claimed to be. I said around that time that all of us deserved a chance to start over. Who we were before it all happened...that none of it mattered.

Getting a second chance is all about not allowing the past to matter in the make it something that happened and stop trying to make it into something that’s still happening. The things we’ve already done...we can’t change that. But who we are...the things we do, here and now, from one moment to the next? Those things we *can* change. And that’s the purpose, the heart of second fulfill the promise of change that the future brings.

To do things differently...not to go back and redo things. That’s what makes it such a blessing.

But with second’s all about taking advantage, and sometimes no matter how hard you might blow it. You might make the same mistakes again, and even if you don’t? Sometimes doing the right thing can kill you.

Or kill someone else.

Then one ever said getting a second chance was easy.

Muse: Jack Shephard
Fandom: LOST
Words: 346
standardblack: (Jack Smile)
People here on the island trust me, almost a little too much. I don’t know where the trust began, it just feels like it’s always been there. It’s like an automatic thing... ‘trust the doctor.’ I guess it’s somewhat inherent to what I do...being a doctor, healing the sick. People put their lives in my hands. Other people see it and think ‘hey, let’s trust him...he made that one girl walk again.’

[locked from all castaways]

That’s what Gabriela and her father were thinking when they came to see me.

It’s been some years now, and I still haven’t forgotten her...the sting of that poor man’s death, and the pain that her quiet grief caused me. The kiss...I had a heavy burden of guilt to bear back then, but time’s tempered that some and I know that it *was* a mistake. It was me, trying to make it right, and by feeling something for her...with her...I thought I could make it all right again.

I guess you could say that my bedside manner is either one extreme or the other...rotten, or too good for *my* own good.


That trust that comes with the mantle of’s never been one I was comfortable with. I think it’s that trust which is why I get along so well with people like Faith and Sawyer...they don’t trust anybody without good reason. Their trust, I had to earn...hell, maybe I still do. With them, it’s always hard to tell.

Then there’s the kind of trust that’s borne of something else...I would call it chemistry or mutual understanding, but it’s a little more complex than that. It’s the kind of trust that comes from sharing something simple, something that’s tested by experience and grows over time.

Like, say, sharing a fire for instance. A few true confessions and life-or-death jaunts through the jungle later, and you have a fairly complex and interesting interpersonal relationship going on. Just ask least anyone on this island.

In the end, I think trust is all relative...but no matter how it comes, it’s the trust that’s earned that’s the only kind that will never be betrayed. Unconditional’s never wise.

Because even those with the power to heal can have a bad day.

Muse: Jack Sheppard
Fandom: LOST
Words: 388
standardblack: (Jate Watching You)
A lot of what`s happened since I came to this island`s been pretty monumental for me...I`ve faced a lot of demons and I )

Muse: Jack Shephard
Fandom: LOST
Words: 465
standardblack: (Jack Voices In The Dark)
Truthfully? I think I’d have to say Kate…and not for the reason probably everyone’s thinking, either. Yes, Hurley and Sawer, I’m talking to you. Something as simple and uncomplicated as romance would be good to have in my life, but it’s not like that, and it’s not what I’m talking about here.

A lot’s happened since we got stranded…and she’s been with me through all of it. I’ve never been very good at letting things go…she makes me. When I don’t sleep, she forces me to bed…when I haven’t eaten in more than a day, she suddenly appears to give me grief and toss a mango or two in my direction. She’s the voice of reason and logic when mine’s gone silent, and Boone’s death is only one example of that.

I’d given Boone my own blood…I still don’t know how much, could’ve been a couple pints, maybe more. I hadn’t slept in nearly a day, and had no food or water in me.

She drugged me…a fact I’ve pretty much forgiven her for, being that she probably saved my life and all.

It was just some sleeping pills crushed up in some orange juice, but it was what I needed. Those few hours of sleep got my adrenaline levels down, which let me rest on my own later…after the situation with Shannon was taken care of. The bottom line is that she was there for me…she basically took care of me when I wouldn’t, when I *couldn’t* take care of myself.

The funny thing about it, too, is that she acts so selfishly at times. I know Kate…I know what she is, who she is, even if no one else does. There are so many reasons why she shouldn’t do the things she does, and not simply because of the facts I know about her.

Even if she doesn’t know it…I know Kate’s afraid to connect, to get close to people.


And maybe that’s why nothing has *really* happened between us yet. I know what’s there…what I feel, what I want, but I know in my heart that acting on it will drive her away.

I see her…and I like what I see.

I also want her…however I can get her, and if that means keeping this distance between us…I can do that. It’s hell…but if I can’t *hold* her close, I can *keep* her close.

I’d rather have her by my side than have her in my bed, if the only other option is not having her at all.


Muse: Jack Sheppard
Fandom: LOST
Words: 421
standardblack: (Jack No Hope)
[locked from all castaways]

Marriage…I used to be married. She was a good woman…strong, funny, smart…beautiful, too. She was too good for a guy like me…she was whole. I wasn’t. I’m not sure I ever will be…and that’s why she left me.

I fix things. It’s who I am, it’s what I do…it’s all I know. And that’s how I met my wife…because I fixed her. She was a patient of mine…broken back. I tried to help her…I did everything I could to save her and I did.

At least that’s how it appeared. I did the procedure…I did everything I could. I promised her that I would fix her.

I didn’t.

Medically, she shouldn’t be walking…because I couldn’t keep my promise, I couldn’t do it. And yet…she danced at our wedding. I actually believed, the day I saw her wiggle her toes, that I could be responsible. That I might have made a miracle…with my promise, my need to keep it…my *desire* to keep it.

But when there was nothing left to fix, no broken pieces to fit back together…I started looking again. I was faithful as I could possibly be to the woman I thought I loved, but in reality I was cheating on her with my patients. The broken backs and nerve damage and helpless souls I had the power to piece back together.

She ended up leaving me. It hurt. A lot. I fixed her…but fixing her broke us, as a couple. With nothing else to repair…we didn’t need each other anymore.

I don’t regret her recovery…I don’t begrudge her for a single second the fact that she can walk, that she found a life for herself outside our home, that she was able to be happy in spite of me. I cared for Sara…I still do, I always will.

But I know now that I don’t love her…I never did. Love can’t be fixed or broken, made or unmade, it just is. It always will be. It’s there and you can’t get rid of it, no matter what.

Marriage is a promise to be kept…and a broken marriage is a broken promise. It’s a beautiful thing, a wonderful thing…but I made that promise, I kept that promise…and it wasn’t enough.

I guess you could say that I stopped believing in marriage the day I stopped believing in miracles.


Muse: Jack Sheppard
Fandom: LOST
Words: 389
standardblack: (Jate Watching You)
I’ve been put in charge...unofficially. Everyone realized someone needed to make the big decisions...the hard decisions. Someone had to step up and keep this group together. Keep things running in this community we’ve built here.

Somehow, someone decided I was the man for the job...and so I took it. I keep myself busy pretty much constantly. I don’t have a lot of free time for myself, and in a way I guess that’s a good thing. Idle time means time to think...and that’s not something I enjoy doing, nine times out of ten, especially given our current situation.

But when I do have a few seconds....sometimes even when I don`t...I watch her. )

Muse: Jack Sheppard
Fandom: LOST
Words: 475
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