In the Silence - Lost - Sawyer/Kate - 1/1
Because Heidi told me to. The first of about a thousand skate fics I've written in recent months.
Title: In the Silence
Fandom: Lost
Pairing: Sawyer/Skate
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Through the season five finale
Summary: Kate helps Sawyer grieve.
In the Silence
It was three hours since The Incident, and Sawyer hadn’t cried yet. Juliet was gone. The bomb went off, a bright flash occurred, and the area was in ruins. Sawyer was in some sort of catatonic state. He didn’t speak, he didn’t move. He just stared forward into oblivion, sitting in the jungle.
Kate stayed with him. Even in his catatonic, non-responsive state, she stayed with him. Sawyer did not look at her, talk to her, or acknowledge her presence in any way. But he never told her to leave, so Kate supposed that he somewhat appreciated her quiet company.
She never made the mistake of touching him. She did not move the hair out of his eyes that stayed there for hours on end until the right gust of wind came through and blew it back out of his face. She did not brush the dirt from his face, grimy build up left over from his fight with Jack earlier in the day that seemed like ages before. She did not place a comforting hand on his shoulder and give him a gentle squeeze. Kate did not do these things as many others might have. She simply sat beside him in the vast silence that encased the jungle.
The pair remained like that through the afternoon and into the late evening. They sat side by side and spoke no words. They didn’t move. Kate would glance over at Sawyer and take in his glazed-over expression every once in a while, and then turn back to the jungle unmoving once more. Eventually, as the sun began setting, Jin stopped by and handed Kate two portions of fish with a solemn nod. Kate ate hers wordlessly. Sawyer finally acknowledged Kate’s presence when she began handing him his food, piece by piece, like a small child who can only eat small portions at a time. He ate it quietly and slowly. When he was finished, things went back to the way they were, sitting side by side motionlessly.
When darkness fell, Kate found difficulty in containing her yawns. She rubbed her eyes periodically, but she forced herself to stay awake. Her head drooped frequently, and she would snap it back up every few minutes, trying to reach attention again.
Sawyer sighed heavily - the first noise he had made in quite some time. Finally, hours after The Incident, he spoke in gruff tones, “You should get some sleep, Freckles.”
Kate blinked the sleep out of her eyes. “No, no, I’m okay.”
“Get some sleep,” he insisted quietly.
Kate yawned loudly and decided that fighting it was worthless. She rubbed her eyes once more and conceded, “Okay.”
She laid down on the ground next to him. “Wake me up if you need me.”
Sawyer nodded.
“I’m serious,” Kate said. “I don’t care what it is. Just wake me up if you need me, okay?”
Sawyer nodded again silently and stared into the night.
* * *
Kate awoke the next morning with the sun shining painfully in her eyes. She tried to roll over, but something stopped her. She was stuck, unable to move more than a few inches. Something was holding her down. Kate squinted her eyes and glanced to her right. Sawyer was lying next to her with no space between them. His face was nuzzled into her neck and brown curls, pinning her hair down against the ground. His hand was placed loosely on top of hers, his heat warming her skin more than the sun possibly could. She assumed that his positioning was involuntary - something that had happened naturally over the course of the night. He had probably shifted unconsciously in the night to draw comfort from the form next to him. In his hazy mind, he’d probably mistaken her for Juliet - they’d slept next to each other for years, after all. He was used to a woman next to him night after night. It was only natural that he would gravitate towards her.
Kate knew he needed his sleep, so she was exceedingly careful not to move from her precarious position and awaken him. She closed her eyes again in hopes that she might fall asleep once more, but she was too easily distracted. She could feel his breathing. She had Sawyer in close contact with her for the first time in a long time. It was a bit overwhelming.
She’d never gotten over him. She’d moved on, eventually, but she’d certainly never gotten over him. And if the look he’d given her the day prior indicated anything, he never truly got over her either. But Kate couldn’t let her feeling for him get in the way. He was grieving. Juliet was his everything. And now she was gone. Kate needed to be there for him, but only as a friend. That was what he needed. And she would take any place in his life that he’d let her, as long as she got to be in it.
Time passed quickly in his presence, despite Sawyer’s sleeping state. He eventually began muttering in his sleep, nonsensical things that Kate could not quite make out. He was becoming restless. He squeezed her hand and through his head side to side. She assumed he was having some sort of nightmare, possibly about the events of the day prior.
“James,” Kate whispered. “James, wake up.”
She shook him lightly, and his thrashing stopped.
“James…” she tried to rouse him from his sleep.
Sawyer’s eyes snapped open quickly. “Don’t call me that.” His words were bitter and angry. “Don’t call me that name.”
“Sorry,” Kate whispered.
“Me too,” he muttered in response.
Kate bit her lip and looked down.
Sawyer stood up without looking at her. “We should get cleaned up.”
Kate stood beside him, wiping the grime from her pants. “The others are at the beach, I think.”
The two walked back together side by side without making contact. As they approached where their old camp would have been, a large blue tarp came into view. Kate furrowed her brows.
“Is that…” she began, “…your tent?”
Sawyer’s eyes widened. “What...the…hell?”
“Holy shit,” Kate breathed.
“What-did-how-are we…”
“I think,” Kate said slowly, “we’re back in the present.”
They walked in silent acceptance for a moment.
Sawyer sighed. “So much for Dharma beer.”
“You don’t have any booze from the plane left over, do you?”
“It’s been three years! Hell if I know, Freckles.”
They approached camp and saw Jack out on the beach, sitting in the sand, looking out at the ocean. It was a strange image, Kate decided, because so often before it had been her exact position and location. Jack turned his head towards them and nodded in greeting. His face was grave, and he tried to smile at the pair, but instead forming more of a grimace.
Sawyer and Kate headed towards Sawyer’s tent and sat inside. No longer catatonic, he seemed to want to talk. Not about Juliet, of course - he was looking for distraction, not resolution.
“So Sweetcheeks,” Sawyer began. “Tell me about yourself.”
Kate laughed. “What?”
Sawyer repeated, “Tell me about yourself.”
“Are you serious?” she questioned. At his nod, she continued, “You already know me. Do you have specific questions, maybe?”
“Well, for starters, how old are you?”
“Couldn’t you have asked me this three years ago? I would have been happy to tell you then…”
Sawyer scoffed. “How old, Freckles?”
“Thirty,” she mumbled.
“Well damn girl, you’re getting up there in age!”
Kate smacked him somewhat playfully. “Shut up. You’re the grandpa here.”
“Just how old do you think I am?”
“Thirty-seven? Thirty-eight?” Kate ventured.
Sawyer sighed, “Thirty-nine.”
“Grandpa indeed!”
Sawyer rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure, sassafras, I’d bet the Doc is older than me.”
Kate giggled almost inaudibly. “Same age, actually.”
“Well how ‘bout that?” Sawyer remarked. “Me and Doc are the same age. Bet he had the better childhood, though.”
“He did,” Kate decided. “He didn’t became irrevocably screwed up until adulthood.”
“Is that so?”
Kate nodded.
“Who screwed ol’ Jack-o up?”
“His dad. But it was Jack’s fault for letting it take him over. He shouldn’t have. We’ve all got daddy issues.”
“What are yours?” Sawyer inquired.
“Well,” Kate began very slowly, “I killed mine.”
Sawyer’s face registered the briefest amount of shock and then settled on an expression of acceptance. He did not look horrified as many would, simply understanding. Maybe even a little concerned. “How come?”
“He deserved it,” she said simply. After a moments pause, she launched into the story. “Wayne…he hit my mom all the time. He was a pig. Locked me up so I wouldn’t try and defend her. If she wasn’t around to be the punching bag, then I’d take the brunt of it. But mostly it was just her.” Kate sighed. “But that’s really the reason I killed him. The thing is…I always thought Wayne was my step-dad. I could deal with that. There was no blood relation, he was just some ass hole my mom decided to marry. Then I found out he was my biological father. I couldn’t take it. His dirty blood ran through my veins. I was tainted. I could never be good.”
Kate normally would not be so open with anyone about such topics, even Sawyer who she knew would not judge her, but she knew that he needed the distraction. And this would certainly qualify as quite a big one. Understanding the inner-workings of Kate Austen.
She shrugged her shoulders. “I got out, but he kept hitting my mom. So when I turned 24, I decided I wouldn’t stand for it anymore. I blew up the house after putting him to bed.”
“Putting him to bed?” Sawyer questioned.
“Yeah. Wayne was drunk, as usual.”
Sawyer nodded thoughtfully, absorbing everything she had just told him. His eyes widened with recognition. “Wayne…that was his name?”
“Yeah,” Kate affirmed, “Wayne.”
“Three years ago, after I got shot, we were down in the hatch. You remember that, Sweetheart?”
“Yes,” Kate whispered.
“And when we were down there...you went off on this speech. You called me Wayne.”
“Yeah. I, uh, went a little crazy that day.”
“Care to elaborate, Freckles?”
“Well…I kind of thought you were channeling Wayne. This island…it does some crazy things.”
“Do I remind you of him?”
Kate looked down. “Three years ago…at the beginning, you did. But never since that day.” She continued bitterly, “If anyone reminded me of Wayne, it ended up being Jack.”
Sawyer cocked a brow. “Allow me to repeat myself: Care to elaborate, Freckles?”
“Once we got off the island,” Kate explained. “Things were good between us for a while.”
“I heard you were engaged,” Sawyer remarked.
Kate nodded sadly. “Yeah. I said yes. But I don’t think I ever thought we’d get married. After that was when he really started drinking. Then he started popping pills. He was angry all the time. He didn’t trust me. So I left.”
“He told me he wants you back.”
Kate’s eyes widened. “When did he tell you that?”
“Yesterday. That’s why he wanted to drop the bomb. To have another chance with you.”
“If the bomb went off, I’d be heading to jail. That makes no sense. I would know him.”
“Well, that’s what I told him, Sweetcheeks. But you know he’s never been a good listener. He said it would be fate taking its course. I don’t know when he started speaking Locke, but it was all sounding a little crazy to me.”
Kate sighed and shook her head. “Of all times, he wants me back now? When we were off the island, I waited for him. I waited for him to clean up his act and figure things out. But I finished waiting a long time ago. Now he wants me back? Now?”
“Do you want him?” Sawyer asked seriously.
Kate blinked. “Do you think I want him back?”
Sawyer raised an eyebrow. “You never could make up your mind before.” He paused. “But no, I don’t think you want him back. Not now anyways.”
“I don’t,” Kate whispered. “I don’t want him.” She ran a hand through her messy hair and picked at the blue tarp beside her. She looked up again and simply stared at Sawyer for quite some time. He returned her gaze with equal intensity, a stray hair falling in front of her eye that he tossed back with the flip of his head. The wind blew and the piece fell back in front of his face.
Kate opened her mouth to speak and closed it again. She looked down and a strand of hair was pulled from her ponytail. Kate shivered as the breeze chilled her body.
“Need a jacket or somethin’?” Sawyer asked. “I think I must’ve left something around here back in the day.” He rifled through his things.
“Try the grey suitcase,” Kate suggested astutely.
Sawyer did just that and found a black, long-sleeved button-up shirt that he used to wear a lot. He tossed it to her. “Keen memory you got there, Freckles.”
Kate bit her lips, shrugged her shoulders, and pulled the shirt on. She remembered most things that involved him. The feel of his skin, the golden shade of his hair, and the size of his favorite Levi’s found in the unclaimed luggage were a few.
“I missed you when I was gone, you know,” Kate stated. “I missed this place. I missed its power. I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” Sawyer admitted. “It took me a damn long time to move on from you. I had a friend in-” Sawyer choked on her name, “Juliet…she was there for me when-” he broke off. He was not yet ready for the emotion of it all.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Kate murmured.
“Well ain’t that sweet. Makes me feel real special getting fed the same damn line strangers tell each other at funerals. I think I even got it in a greeting card once.”
“Listen,” Kate spoke, “I know it hurts. But avoiding it won’t make it go away. It won’t bring her back. I know you don’t want to feel the pain, but I also know the pain lasts longer if you try and ignore it.”
“Oh really?” Sawyer snapped. “And how do you know?”
“You’re not the only one on this island who has lost someone, James.”
“I told you not to call me that!” Sawyer shouted.
“It’s your name!” Kate shouted back.
“It’s what she always called me! Now get the hell outta my damn tent.”
Kate exited in a hurry, heaving his side for the first time in 24 hours.
* * *
Kate relocated to the beach’s shore where Jack had been in the hours prior. She was glad he was no longer there. It was her spot, after all. She sat down and pulled her knees into her chest, resting her arms on top of them. She was still wearing Sawyer’s button-up shirt. It was the one he had warn as they trekked through the jungle three years prior, searching for the boar Sawyer swore had some sort of vendetta against him. The shirt still smelled like him, even after the years. Kate inhaled deeply into the sleeves and looked out at the sea. She watched the tide. She watched wave after wave crash down and wet the sand just below her feet. She listened to the waves as they started and ended. They soothed her senses and calmed her in a way only the water could. Time passed, minutes into hours.
The tides changed, and Sawyer emerged from his tent. He spotted Kate immediately. She was just where he expected her to be. After all, some things never change. Sawyer approached slowly, allowing himself to take in her appearance. Her brown curls were disheveled, and she looked slightly worse for wear, but she still looked beautiful. She always was, no matter what she was wearing, no matter the amount of grime on her. He sighed heavily in thought and sat down beside her.
Time passed as it had the day prior, with the pair sitting next to each other in silence. Seconds into minutes.
Finally Sawyer spoke, “Who was he?”
Kate furrowed her brows. “What?”
“The one you lost,” Sawyer explained. “Who was he?”
“Oh.” Kate ran a hand through the sand beneath her. “His name was Tom.”
“Tell me about him?” Sawyer requested. It was another distraction and an unspoken plea for forgiveness.
“He was my best friend and my first love,” said Kate. “We grew up together in Iowa. We were both convinced we’d end up together - married, kids, the works. He was my everything. But I wanted out, and he wanted to stay. I got dark, and he stayed light. Then I killed Wayne. I went on the run, and he got his medical degree. I came back one day, and he was married with a kid. We were both in the car when the cops came. I was driving. He refused to leave when I told him to…he was shot and killed. It was all my fault.”
She grabbed a handful of sand and let it slowly trickle through the cracks between her fingers. “Do remember my toy plane? The one I would pull out and just stare at for hours on end?”
Sawyer nodded, having seen her with it before of numerous occasions.
Kate elaborated, “It was his. I went as far as to con a guy into helping me rob a bank just to get the damn thing. My way of holding on to the past. Sort of like your letter.”
“I burned it,” said Sawyer, “I burned the letter.”
“Why?” Kate asked with surprise.
“I finished the job I needed to do.”
“How?”
“How do you think I channeled your dead dad, Kate? No one knows. It’s this damn island. But he was here. The real Mr. Sawyer. Anthony Cooper. And I killed him.”
“I don’t know whether or not to congratulate you or chastise you,” Kate said with a sliver of a smile.
“Probably both,” Sawyer suggested. His dimples were just barely visible with his hint of a smile.
The pair turned their heads away from one another to look at the ocean once more, silence falling over them like a blanket.
“I miss her,” Sawyer spoke after a long while. “I miss her.”
Kate reached over and squeezed his hand, hoping he wouldn’t pull away at the contact. “I know,” she whispered.
She expected him to pull away with force. She expected bitter words of resentment in exchange for her attempt to help. But instead Sawyer squeezed her hand in return. He squeezed it hard. He squeezed it as the tears filled his eyes, and the gaping hole left inside of him burned with the pain of open wound.
“It’s been one day,” said Sawyer, “Only one day, and I can’t breathe. I miss her.”
Kate squeezed his hand with the equal force he so desperately applied. She suspected there may be bruising in a few hours, but she paid it no mind. She’d always been a little bit of a masochist.
“I know,” she whispered again. She whispered it on repeat. “I know, I know, I know how much it hurts.”
Sawyer squeezed her hand even harder.
Kate continued, “I know how much you love her. How much you miss her. But you’ll be okay. I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but you will be okay.”
A single tear fell from one of Sawyer’s red eyes, and he wiped away furiously. He did not want to cry. He was not a crier. He had cried at his parents funeral, and he cried after he killed Duckett. But not since. Never since. Sawyer was not a crier. Another tear slipped out, followed by another and another and another. He could not stop it. A violent, wet sob racked through him. His breath caught in his throat, and he cried. He cried like he had not cried in years.
Sawyer squeezed Kate’s hand with everything in him as he sobbed. She turned towards him and lost all reservation and restraint. She did not think of consequences. She stroked his long, messy hair. She rubbed his shaking back. She held him. She held him as he cried, and he did not pull away. He drew strength from her comforting embrace. He let himself fall apart in her arms. He wet her shirt with his tears. He tangled fistfuls of her hair with his hands. He took comfort in her. He cried for years in her arms as minutes passed. Five, ten, twenty, thirty, an hour. He shared his pain and made it hers.
“You’ll be okay,” Kate whispered. “You’ll be okay.” She pressed a kiss onto the top of his head - a dangerous move - but he did not complain. He did not pull away. It was an action between friends, after all, wasn’t it? She repeated, “You’ll be okay.”
Whispered words resounded in the air between them: “You’ll be okay.”
Her words and his cries filled the silence of the island. Everything occurring in the silence. Them, in the silence. They were always taking part in the silence.
Kate stroked his hair again and whispered once more with meaning, “You’ll be okay.”
Sawyer pulled Kate’s hand to his heart and held it there. Tears dissipated, leaving splotchy and red cheeks. Silence continued. The island was quiet again with their remorse. He kept her hand clenched in his against his heart and turned to face the ocean again. The pair continued to stare onward, into the future, in the silence.
Title: In the Silence
Fandom: Lost
Pairing: Sawyer/Skate
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Through the season five finale
Summary: Kate helps Sawyer grieve.
In the Silence
It was three hours since The Incident, and Sawyer hadn’t cried yet. Juliet was gone. The bomb went off, a bright flash occurred, and the area was in ruins. Sawyer was in some sort of catatonic state. He didn’t speak, he didn’t move. He just stared forward into oblivion, sitting in the jungle.
Kate stayed with him. Even in his catatonic, non-responsive state, she stayed with him. Sawyer did not look at her, talk to her, or acknowledge her presence in any way. But he never told her to leave, so Kate supposed that he somewhat appreciated her quiet company.
She never made the mistake of touching him. She did not move the hair out of his eyes that stayed there for hours on end until the right gust of wind came through and blew it back out of his face. She did not brush the dirt from his face, grimy build up left over from his fight with Jack earlier in the day that seemed like ages before. She did not place a comforting hand on his shoulder and give him a gentle squeeze. Kate did not do these things as many others might have. She simply sat beside him in the vast silence that encased the jungle.
The pair remained like that through the afternoon and into the late evening. They sat side by side and spoke no words. They didn’t move. Kate would glance over at Sawyer and take in his glazed-over expression every once in a while, and then turn back to the jungle unmoving once more. Eventually, as the sun began setting, Jin stopped by and handed Kate two portions of fish with a solemn nod. Kate ate hers wordlessly. Sawyer finally acknowledged Kate’s presence when she began handing him his food, piece by piece, like a small child who can only eat small portions at a time. He ate it quietly and slowly. When he was finished, things went back to the way they were, sitting side by side motionlessly.
When darkness fell, Kate found difficulty in containing her yawns. She rubbed her eyes periodically, but she forced herself to stay awake. Her head drooped frequently, and she would snap it back up every few minutes, trying to reach attention again.
Sawyer sighed heavily - the first noise he had made in quite some time. Finally, hours after The Incident, he spoke in gruff tones, “You should get some sleep, Freckles.”
Kate blinked the sleep out of her eyes. “No, no, I’m okay.”
“Get some sleep,” he insisted quietly.
Kate yawned loudly and decided that fighting it was worthless. She rubbed her eyes once more and conceded, “Okay.”
She laid down on the ground next to him. “Wake me up if you need me.”
Sawyer nodded.
“I’m serious,” Kate said. “I don’t care what it is. Just wake me up if you need me, okay?”
Sawyer nodded again silently and stared into the night.
* * *
Kate awoke the next morning with the sun shining painfully in her eyes. She tried to roll over, but something stopped her. She was stuck, unable to move more than a few inches. Something was holding her down. Kate squinted her eyes and glanced to her right. Sawyer was lying next to her with no space between them. His face was nuzzled into her neck and brown curls, pinning her hair down against the ground. His hand was placed loosely on top of hers, his heat warming her skin more than the sun possibly could. She assumed that his positioning was involuntary - something that had happened naturally over the course of the night. He had probably shifted unconsciously in the night to draw comfort from the form next to him. In his hazy mind, he’d probably mistaken her for Juliet - they’d slept next to each other for years, after all. He was used to a woman next to him night after night. It was only natural that he would gravitate towards her.
Kate knew he needed his sleep, so she was exceedingly careful not to move from her precarious position and awaken him. She closed her eyes again in hopes that she might fall asleep once more, but she was too easily distracted. She could feel his breathing. She had Sawyer in close contact with her for the first time in a long time. It was a bit overwhelming.
She’d never gotten over him. She’d moved on, eventually, but she’d certainly never gotten over him. And if the look he’d given her the day prior indicated anything, he never truly got over her either. But Kate couldn’t let her feeling for him get in the way. He was grieving. Juliet was his everything. And now she was gone. Kate needed to be there for him, but only as a friend. That was what he needed. And she would take any place in his life that he’d let her, as long as she got to be in it.
Time passed quickly in his presence, despite Sawyer’s sleeping state. He eventually began muttering in his sleep, nonsensical things that Kate could not quite make out. He was becoming restless. He squeezed her hand and through his head side to side. She assumed he was having some sort of nightmare, possibly about the events of the day prior.
“James,” Kate whispered. “James, wake up.”
She shook him lightly, and his thrashing stopped.
“James…” she tried to rouse him from his sleep.
Sawyer’s eyes snapped open quickly. “Don’t call me that.” His words were bitter and angry. “Don’t call me that name.”
“Sorry,” Kate whispered.
“Me too,” he muttered in response.
Kate bit her lip and looked down.
Sawyer stood up without looking at her. “We should get cleaned up.”
Kate stood beside him, wiping the grime from her pants. “The others are at the beach, I think.”
The two walked back together side by side without making contact. As they approached where their old camp would have been, a large blue tarp came into view. Kate furrowed her brows.
“Is that…” she began, “…your tent?”
Sawyer’s eyes widened. “What...the…hell?”
“Holy shit,” Kate breathed.
“What-did-how-are we…”
“I think,” Kate said slowly, “we’re back in the present.”
They walked in silent acceptance for a moment.
Sawyer sighed. “So much for Dharma beer.”
“You don’t have any booze from the plane left over, do you?”
“It’s been three years! Hell if I know, Freckles.”
They approached camp and saw Jack out on the beach, sitting in the sand, looking out at the ocean. It was a strange image, Kate decided, because so often before it had been her exact position and location. Jack turned his head towards them and nodded in greeting. His face was grave, and he tried to smile at the pair, but instead forming more of a grimace.
Sawyer and Kate headed towards Sawyer’s tent and sat inside. No longer catatonic, he seemed to want to talk. Not about Juliet, of course - he was looking for distraction, not resolution.
“So Sweetcheeks,” Sawyer began. “Tell me about yourself.”
Kate laughed. “What?”
Sawyer repeated, “Tell me about yourself.”
“Are you serious?” she questioned. At his nod, she continued, “You already know me. Do you have specific questions, maybe?”
“Well, for starters, how old are you?”
“Couldn’t you have asked me this three years ago? I would have been happy to tell you then…”
Sawyer scoffed. “How old, Freckles?”
“Thirty,” she mumbled.
“Well damn girl, you’re getting up there in age!”
Kate smacked him somewhat playfully. “Shut up. You’re the grandpa here.”
“Just how old do you think I am?”
“Thirty-seven? Thirty-eight?” Kate ventured.
Sawyer sighed, “Thirty-nine.”
“Grandpa indeed!”
Sawyer rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure, sassafras, I’d bet the Doc is older than me.”
Kate giggled almost inaudibly. “Same age, actually.”
“Well how ‘bout that?” Sawyer remarked. “Me and Doc are the same age. Bet he had the better childhood, though.”
“He did,” Kate decided. “He didn’t became irrevocably screwed up until adulthood.”
“Is that so?”
Kate nodded.
“Who screwed ol’ Jack-o up?”
“His dad. But it was Jack’s fault for letting it take him over. He shouldn’t have. We’ve all got daddy issues.”
“What are yours?” Sawyer inquired.
“Well,” Kate began very slowly, “I killed mine.”
Sawyer’s face registered the briefest amount of shock and then settled on an expression of acceptance. He did not look horrified as many would, simply understanding. Maybe even a little concerned. “How come?”
“He deserved it,” she said simply. After a moments pause, she launched into the story. “Wayne…he hit my mom all the time. He was a pig. Locked me up so I wouldn’t try and defend her. If she wasn’t around to be the punching bag, then I’d take the brunt of it. But mostly it was just her.” Kate sighed. “But that’s really the reason I killed him. The thing is…I always thought Wayne was my step-dad. I could deal with that. There was no blood relation, he was just some ass hole my mom decided to marry. Then I found out he was my biological father. I couldn’t take it. His dirty blood ran through my veins. I was tainted. I could never be good.”
Kate normally would not be so open with anyone about such topics, even Sawyer who she knew would not judge her, but she knew that he needed the distraction. And this would certainly qualify as quite a big one. Understanding the inner-workings of Kate Austen.
She shrugged her shoulders. “I got out, but he kept hitting my mom. So when I turned 24, I decided I wouldn’t stand for it anymore. I blew up the house after putting him to bed.”
“Putting him to bed?” Sawyer questioned.
“Yeah. Wayne was drunk, as usual.”
Sawyer nodded thoughtfully, absorbing everything she had just told him. His eyes widened with recognition. “Wayne…that was his name?”
“Yeah,” Kate affirmed, “Wayne.”
“Three years ago, after I got shot, we were down in the hatch. You remember that, Sweetheart?”
“Yes,” Kate whispered.
“And when we were down there...you went off on this speech. You called me Wayne.”
“Yeah. I, uh, went a little crazy that day.”
“Care to elaborate, Freckles?”
“Well…I kind of thought you were channeling Wayne. This island…it does some crazy things.”
“Do I remind you of him?”
Kate looked down. “Three years ago…at the beginning, you did. But never since that day.” She continued bitterly, “If anyone reminded me of Wayne, it ended up being Jack.”
Sawyer cocked a brow. “Allow me to repeat myself: Care to elaborate, Freckles?”
“Once we got off the island,” Kate explained. “Things were good between us for a while.”
“I heard you were engaged,” Sawyer remarked.
Kate nodded sadly. “Yeah. I said yes. But I don’t think I ever thought we’d get married. After that was when he really started drinking. Then he started popping pills. He was angry all the time. He didn’t trust me. So I left.”
“He told me he wants you back.”
Kate’s eyes widened. “When did he tell you that?”
“Yesterday. That’s why he wanted to drop the bomb. To have another chance with you.”
“If the bomb went off, I’d be heading to jail. That makes no sense. I would know him.”
“Well, that’s what I told him, Sweetcheeks. But you know he’s never been a good listener. He said it would be fate taking its course. I don’t know when he started speaking Locke, but it was all sounding a little crazy to me.”
Kate sighed and shook her head. “Of all times, he wants me back now? When we were off the island, I waited for him. I waited for him to clean up his act and figure things out. But I finished waiting a long time ago. Now he wants me back? Now?”
“Do you want him?” Sawyer asked seriously.
Kate blinked. “Do you think I want him back?”
Sawyer raised an eyebrow. “You never could make up your mind before.” He paused. “But no, I don’t think you want him back. Not now anyways.”
“I don’t,” Kate whispered. “I don’t want him.” She ran a hand through her messy hair and picked at the blue tarp beside her. She looked up again and simply stared at Sawyer for quite some time. He returned her gaze with equal intensity, a stray hair falling in front of her eye that he tossed back with the flip of his head. The wind blew and the piece fell back in front of his face.
Kate opened her mouth to speak and closed it again. She looked down and a strand of hair was pulled from her ponytail. Kate shivered as the breeze chilled her body.
“Need a jacket or somethin’?” Sawyer asked. “I think I must’ve left something around here back in the day.” He rifled through his things.
“Try the grey suitcase,” Kate suggested astutely.
Sawyer did just that and found a black, long-sleeved button-up shirt that he used to wear a lot. He tossed it to her. “Keen memory you got there, Freckles.”
Kate bit her lips, shrugged her shoulders, and pulled the shirt on. She remembered most things that involved him. The feel of his skin, the golden shade of his hair, and the size of his favorite Levi’s found in the unclaimed luggage were a few.
“I missed you when I was gone, you know,” Kate stated. “I missed this place. I missed its power. I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” Sawyer admitted. “It took me a damn long time to move on from you. I had a friend in-” Sawyer choked on her name, “Juliet…she was there for me when-” he broke off. He was not yet ready for the emotion of it all.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Kate murmured.
“Well ain’t that sweet. Makes me feel real special getting fed the same damn line strangers tell each other at funerals. I think I even got it in a greeting card once.”
“Listen,” Kate spoke, “I know it hurts. But avoiding it won’t make it go away. It won’t bring her back. I know you don’t want to feel the pain, but I also know the pain lasts longer if you try and ignore it.”
“Oh really?” Sawyer snapped. “And how do you know?”
“You’re not the only one on this island who has lost someone, James.”
“I told you not to call me that!” Sawyer shouted.
“It’s your name!” Kate shouted back.
“It’s what she always called me! Now get the hell outta my damn tent.”
Kate exited in a hurry, heaving his side for the first time in 24 hours.
* * *
Kate relocated to the beach’s shore where Jack had been in the hours prior. She was glad he was no longer there. It was her spot, after all. She sat down and pulled her knees into her chest, resting her arms on top of them. She was still wearing Sawyer’s button-up shirt. It was the one he had warn as they trekked through the jungle three years prior, searching for the boar Sawyer swore had some sort of vendetta against him. The shirt still smelled like him, even after the years. Kate inhaled deeply into the sleeves and looked out at the sea. She watched the tide. She watched wave after wave crash down and wet the sand just below her feet. She listened to the waves as they started and ended. They soothed her senses and calmed her in a way only the water could. Time passed, minutes into hours.
The tides changed, and Sawyer emerged from his tent. He spotted Kate immediately. She was just where he expected her to be. After all, some things never change. Sawyer approached slowly, allowing himself to take in her appearance. Her brown curls were disheveled, and she looked slightly worse for wear, but she still looked beautiful. She always was, no matter what she was wearing, no matter the amount of grime on her. He sighed heavily in thought and sat down beside her.
Time passed as it had the day prior, with the pair sitting next to each other in silence. Seconds into minutes.
Finally Sawyer spoke, “Who was he?”
Kate furrowed her brows. “What?”
“The one you lost,” Sawyer explained. “Who was he?”
“Oh.” Kate ran a hand through the sand beneath her. “His name was Tom.”
“Tell me about him?” Sawyer requested. It was another distraction and an unspoken plea for forgiveness.
“He was my best friend and my first love,” said Kate. “We grew up together in Iowa. We were both convinced we’d end up together - married, kids, the works. He was my everything. But I wanted out, and he wanted to stay. I got dark, and he stayed light. Then I killed Wayne. I went on the run, and he got his medical degree. I came back one day, and he was married with a kid. We were both in the car when the cops came. I was driving. He refused to leave when I told him to…he was shot and killed. It was all my fault.”
She grabbed a handful of sand and let it slowly trickle through the cracks between her fingers. “Do remember my toy plane? The one I would pull out and just stare at for hours on end?”
Sawyer nodded, having seen her with it before of numerous occasions.
Kate elaborated, “It was his. I went as far as to con a guy into helping me rob a bank just to get the damn thing. My way of holding on to the past. Sort of like your letter.”
“I burned it,” said Sawyer, “I burned the letter.”
“Why?” Kate asked with surprise.
“I finished the job I needed to do.”
“How?”
“How do you think I channeled your dead dad, Kate? No one knows. It’s this damn island. But he was here. The real Mr. Sawyer. Anthony Cooper. And I killed him.”
“I don’t know whether or not to congratulate you or chastise you,” Kate said with a sliver of a smile.
“Probably both,” Sawyer suggested. His dimples were just barely visible with his hint of a smile.
The pair turned their heads away from one another to look at the ocean once more, silence falling over them like a blanket.
“I miss her,” Sawyer spoke after a long while. “I miss her.”
Kate reached over and squeezed his hand, hoping he wouldn’t pull away at the contact. “I know,” she whispered.
She expected him to pull away with force. She expected bitter words of resentment in exchange for her attempt to help. But instead Sawyer squeezed her hand in return. He squeezed it hard. He squeezed it as the tears filled his eyes, and the gaping hole left inside of him burned with the pain of open wound.
“It’s been one day,” said Sawyer, “Only one day, and I can’t breathe. I miss her.”
Kate squeezed his hand with the equal force he so desperately applied. She suspected there may be bruising in a few hours, but she paid it no mind. She’d always been a little bit of a masochist.
“I know,” she whispered again. She whispered it on repeat. “I know, I know, I know how much it hurts.”
Sawyer squeezed her hand even harder.
Kate continued, “I know how much you love her. How much you miss her. But you’ll be okay. I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but you will be okay.”
A single tear fell from one of Sawyer’s red eyes, and he wiped away furiously. He did not want to cry. He was not a crier. He had cried at his parents funeral, and he cried after he killed Duckett. But not since. Never since. Sawyer was not a crier. Another tear slipped out, followed by another and another and another. He could not stop it. A violent, wet sob racked through him. His breath caught in his throat, and he cried. He cried like he had not cried in years.
Sawyer squeezed Kate’s hand with everything in him as he sobbed. She turned towards him and lost all reservation and restraint. She did not think of consequences. She stroked his long, messy hair. She rubbed his shaking back. She held him. She held him as he cried, and he did not pull away. He drew strength from her comforting embrace. He let himself fall apart in her arms. He wet her shirt with his tears. He tangled fistfuls of her hair with his hands. He took comfort in her. He cried for years in her arms as minutes passed. Five, ten, twenty, thirty, an hour. He shared his pain and made it hers.
“You’ll be okay,” Kate whispered. “You’ll be okay.” She pressed a kiss onto the top of his head - a dangerous move - but he did not complain. He did not pull away. It was an action between friends, after all, wasn’t it? She repeated, “You’ll be okay.”
Whispered words resounded in the air between them: “You’ll be okay.”
Her words and his cries filled the silence of the island. Everything occurring in the silence. Them, in the silence. They were always taking part in the silence.
Kate stroked his hair again and whispered once more with meaning, “You’ll be okay.”
Sawyer pulled Kate’s hand to his heart and held it there. Tears dissipated, leaving splotchy and red cheeks. Silence continued. The island was quiet again with their remorse. He kept her hand clenched in his against his heart and turned to face the ocean again. The pair continued to stare onward, into the future, in the silence.