Title: All the ordinary sinners
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don't own them; just borrowing.
Summary: They remember everything. Kate/Sawyer, mentions of Kate/Jack and Sawyer/Juliet.
Spoilers: all the way through to The End
Notes: For
lenina20, who requested Sawyer/Kate; they don't walk into the light. (This also fits with
mollivanders' request, but you'll get your own :) And fics for the other requests are in the works, too.)
Title from Over the Rhine: when all the ordinary sinners take flight/no one will ever see your wings
She remembers everything.
{Daddy - fire - gun - die - sleep - run - plane - fall - blood - trees - runrunrun - skin - bars - hate - war - run! - boy - love - lie - stay - RUN}
She remembers everything, and sees when Jack does, too, how she's just one in a long line of memories, nothing more, nothing she wanted to believe she was. She remembers.
The church is warm and light and inviting, everything good. Temptation, everything she cannot have.
She'd be crazy not to run. She turns away, on her heel.
Jack doesn't notice.
Outside, the night air bites cold against her flushed cheeks. She doesn't look back.
-----
He remembers everything.
{hide - letter - cash - con - lie - shoot - crash - breathe - kiss - fever - lies! - kill - flames - jump - longest con - love - bomb - lies, all lies}
He remembers everything and knows himself, more honest than he's ever been. He looks at Juliet, beautiful, whole, and brushes a kiss over her cheek. He knows, now, what kind of man he is; he's beaten himself at his own game.
Blood on his hands. So much blood. He remembers.
He'd be crazy not to leave, but that don't mean he's got to like it. He turns and ignores her voice calling after him.
For her own good. For his.
He walks in stops and starts. Keeps looking back.
-----
She hears him approach from behind; she doesn't turn, just stops and waits for him to fall into step beside her.
“You too, James?” She finds she's not even surprised, and it tastes like relief. Only now does she look back, when he does. The church is far behind them, light a faint glow.
He hums something, sounds like it might be agreement. “Tiger don't change its stripes, Freckles.” His voice tries to sound amused and fails.
“You con, I run?”
“Somethin' like that.”
She nods, and when he grasps her hand his fingers are cold against hers. He holds on tight; she breaks into a run and he keeps stride beside her.
Over the smog of the city, he thinks he can smell the ocean.