A friend in need is a friend indeed -a short fanfic

A Friend in Need is a Friend Indeed

Category: Missing scene, drama, Jack/Desmond friendship
Rating: G to PG
Warnings: Spoilers for MOSMOF
Disclaimer: All Lost characters belong to ABC and the creative genius J.J. Abrams. I receive no profit from this and no copyright infringement is intended.

Desmond Macpherson walked slowly to his car. His muscles burned from the running he had just done. He was sore and tired, but it was a good tiredness. He smiled thoughtfully and pulled the elastic band from his sweaty hair. It had been an excellent training session. Excellent ,but also strange. Desmond unlocked the car door and got in. He put his sports bag on the seat next to him and grabbed a water bottle out of the mesh pocket on the side. Unscrewing the top he drank half or it at once. He thought about the man he had just met in the stadium. Jack, he had said his name was. Desmond was amazed to meet someone as driven and passionate as himself. Dr. Jack he thought again. The man's pain and anguish had been almost palpable. It was more than just the woman he had mentioned, Desmond was sure of that. It was much more personal. Only family, only a father could cause the kind of pain he saw etched on the other man's face. Desmond knew this kind of pain all too well. He saw it on his own face almost every time he looked in a mirror.
Desmond took an energy bar out of his bag. He slowly unwrapped it, trying to get the image of his father out of his mind. He wished he could have talked to Jack longer. He seemed to Desmond like a kindred spirit. How he knew that was a mystery. Desmond also had the strange feeling that they had been meant to meet. It felt like fate. Jack wouldn't have seen that, he knew. He hadn't understood the "lift it up" comment. That might have been because it wasn't a common expression in America. Deep down he knew it was more than that. Desmond thought of the passage from the Bible about having faith the size of a mustard seed. He wondered if Jack's faith was even that big. His faith on the other hand, was without measure. It was what had brought him to America, and what had made him consider the Tour de Monde in the first place. Without that faith he knew he'd be lost.
Jack Sheppard stepped out of the shower. He quickly dried his hair then wrapped the towel around his waist. He walked to the sink, wincing a bit as he put weight on his injured ankle. Jack had showered once since his run but according to Sarah at least, it hadn't been enough. He still couldn't believe she was going to be able to walk again. How he had manage
to repair her spinal damage was a mystery for the medical journals. Jack looked down at his ankle. It throbbed a bit and there was a red and purple bruise but it wasn't broken. He bent to pick up his discarded clothes, wincing again as his sore muscles protested. He hoped he hadn't overdone it with the running. Jack was fit, but he hadn't had a workout that intense for a long time. Intensity. The word made him think of the man he had met that evening. Desmond. Jack had thought he was alone in the stadium until he twisted his ankle and Desmond came over to see if he was okay. It was like he had appeared from out of nowhere. Jack knew how silly that idea was.Desmond had certainly been there all along. He just hadn't noticed him. Heck, as the way he had been feeling then he wouldn't have noticed a car about to run him over.Jack pulled on boxers and a t-shirt and left the bathroom. He went to the kitchen and got an ice pack out of the freezer, then made his way to the living room where he sank down on the couch. He propped his injured ankle on a pillow and placed the ice pack on it. Sighing softly, he reached for the remote control.