Fandom: Lost/Grey's Anatomy
Summary: Jack won't do the surgery but maybe someone can persuade him?
Notes: I kept thinking "Wouldn't it be funny if Meredith were on the island instead of Juliet?" And then when I caught myself thinking how much I'd prefer Addison to Juliet, this fic idea was born. Not to be taken remotely seriously.
Spoilers: "Not in Portland" for Lost and vague Grey's Anatomy references up through "Drowning on Dry Land."
The woman stares at him mournfully through the glass, the clipboard held awkwardly in her hands like she’s going to drop it at any moment. Girl. He mentally corrects himself. She looks too young and desperately thin and fragile to be thought of as a woman.
“Look. Jack,” she says, adopting a brisk tone and a confidence that’s completely undermined by her body language. Her shoulders hunch forward and her fingers tap the edge of the clipboard. Just a kid, he thinks, and he has the insane urge to feed her.
She’s been talking and he hasn’t been listening, but she just sighs and starts over. “Jack. We really need you to do the surgery.” She furrows her brow, as if this is how she’s practiced looking serious in a mirror.
He just shrugs, waiting to see what she’ll do now.
She steps closer to the glass and puts her hand up to it. Her eyes, if it’s even possible, get even bigger and that much dewier. More than anything, she reminds him of a forlorn puppy hoping to get adopted at the pound. “It’s the right thing to do,” she says firmly.
That melancholy act might work on other men, but not on Jack. “Sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t mean it.
Her head drops and her shoulders slump forward a little more and she nods sadly. “I tried,” she says and heads for the door. As she leaves, her can hear her muttering under her breath.
“I knew it. Burning the muffins was a sign, a definite sign that nothing was going to go right today. And then no one else liked Carrie and now he won’t do the damn surgery and ...”
The door closes softly behind her and he breathes in, happy to be alone again.
The next one is blonde and buxom and seems to be running on all the missing energy that must have been sucked out of the last girl. She happily announces he knows he has a thing for blondes and how she’s supposed to be using that to her advantage and she winks at him. She’s speaking entirely too fast and when she approaches the glass, he’s suddenly glad he’s safely on the other side of it.
“So. You have to do the surgery. You just have to,” she insists. She’s smiling and she starts to speak even faster, if that’s possible. “Because, like, Ben will die if you don’t and I know you don’t care about that, but of course you do, because you’re a doctor, but really, I know you couldn’t just let someone die.” She lets out a high-pitched laugh to punctuate that last thought. There’s a mad glint in her eyes that is probably the scariest thing Jack has seen since being dragged here against his will.
“So, anyway, I know we should have just come out and asked, but then things got a little out of hand and, well, but you’re here now, and you’re going to say yes, aren’t you?” She pauses for a millisecond and, when he doesn’t answer instantly, she wrings her hands together. “Oh my God, you have to say yes.”
Jack takes pleasure in telling her, slowly and deliberately. “No.”
Her face falls. “But ... you have to.”
“You do it.”
She laughs that odd strangled laugh again. “No, I can’t, I’m on probation. You see, there was this guy and...” Her eyes start to well up, her entire mood switching in an instant. “Well, anyway, it doesn’t matter now. The important thing is that you’re here and I believe that you’re going to save the day and everything will be fine. Because it has to be.” She finishes on a cheery note, smiling through her tears.
Jack just turns his back to her. He hears her spluttering incoherently in indignation and then the door slams shut.
“Hmm, Jack.” The redhaired woman looks up from her clipboard, pen poised in one hand as she pushes her glasses down the bridge of her nose to regard him coolly. “They’re telling me you don’t want to do the surgery. You mind telling me why that is?”
Unlike the other two, she radiates quiet authority. Her white lab coat is so much crisper than their scrubs were. And, he can’t help but notice, she’s wearing heels. The withering gaze she’s fixing him with is precisely the kind his mother used to turn on him.
“What’s the point?” He says, crossing his arms, knowing just how it shows off his biceps. Sure enough, her eye goes to his tattoo and she, unconsciously, he’s sure, bites her lower lip.
She’s only distracted for a second and then she snaps back with laserlike focus. “The point is to save a man’s life. You’re the only one here who can do this, Jack. I’m an OB/GYN, I can’t possibly do spinal surgery.” She stops, frowning slightly. “We need you.”
“What about what I need?”
“What’s that?” One eyebrow raises suggestively and, again, he’s convinced that she’s not aware of it.
“I need to get out of here. With my friends.”
The eyebrow lowers and the frown deepens. “You know that’s not going to happen. Not until you do the surgery.”
Jack bares his teeth. “Let them go first.”
She sighs and shrugs, tossing that gorgeous red mane of hair. “Well, I’m sorry, Jack. I knew you weren’t going to cooperate without a little more coercion.”
The hair prickles on the back of his neck. But she’s clicked her pen off and is walking away. “Wait!” he calls after her. She shoots him one more raised-eyebrow glance -- her eyes on his tattoo, not his face, and then, with one last flip of her hair, walks out.
He’s not at all prepared for who they send in next, a man with model-perfect wavy black hair with just a touch of gray in it and a few lines of age, just like his own, etched around those intense blue eyes.
“Derek?! What the hell are you doing here?”
“Well, I’m here to talk you into the surgery of course.”
“But .. here, on the island?”
Derek sighs and crosses his arms. “Well, I left New York after Addison and I split up. I took the first job I could find, one outside of Portland. I figured the Pacific Northwest was as far away as I could possibly go. But I was wrong. The job wasn’t in Portland. It was here. And then they recruited Addison too. Seems they needed a fertility specialist even more than they needed a neurosurgeon.” He offers Jack a wry smile.
“You just met her. Jesus, Jack, did you really never ... wow, I guess you didn’t.”
Jack tries to picture Derek with her and fails. He wonders if she reminds Derek of their mother too. “Never mind. They flew you here?”
“I don’t really remember the trip. They must have drugged me. Anyway, here we both are. Brain and spine, together again.”
“How long have you known I was here?” Jack is beyond outrage.
Derek shakes his head. “Jack, it’s not like I have any say here. I’m a prisoner, just like you. The sooner you do this, the sooner we can all get off the island.”
“So they’ll just let us all go?” Jack huffs in disbelief. “Derek, they’ve killed. You can’t possibly trust them.”
“I don’t trust anyone anymore, Jack,” Derek sighs. “Did I mention that Addison was cheating on me? With Mark? At least your wife didn’t cheat on you with your best friend.”
“I never told you about Sarah.”
“Oh, I read your file,” Derek says, rubbing his forehead. “We all did.”
“Great, that’s just great. My own fucking brother working with these madmen.“
Derek shrugs. “Tell me you wouldn’t do the same if they threatened to kill the woman you love.”
Derek winces at the name. “No, Meredith. She came in and asked you first...”
“Oh, right.” Jack nods, as if he approves. “Well, yeah, she’s pretty.”
“It’s more than that,” Derek says, rubbing at his chin like he’s just remembered he hadn’t shaved that morning. “There’s something about her ...”
And so Derek begins, warming to his topic as he rattles off the long list of Meredith's charms. He has them send in a few bottles of beer and then he joins Jack inside his cell, like he’s just come over to watch a baseball game. Jack asks Derek what he thinks of Kate and Derek looks thoughtful and asks what this Sawyer fellow means to her. Jack admits that Sawyer can be a problem and that causes Derek to go off on a tangent about Mark and how could Jack possibly have ever liked him. Jack confesses that Kate’s a fugitive and Derek nods and says that he knows all about her.
“They’re not like other women,” Derek finally sighs and Jack clinks his third bottle against his. The question of the surgery can wait, at least for tonight. And Jack's going to have a helluva hangover in the morning.