i've been waiting
Title: I've Been Waiting
Prompt: un_love_you- This cancels out the hurt.
Fandom: Lost
Pairing: Jack/Kate
Word Count: 367
Rating: PG
Table: Here.
Spoilers + Disclaimer: Post-island flash forward type stuff. I don't own them.
Summary: Kate's has been without Jack for a while, but sometimes she still needs him back.
Notes: 5/30.
He was still gone. It could be said hundreds of times and still she would feel the same gut wrenching pain. And worse, there was no consolation. She had lived alone for almost 8 months now, ever since he left. His contact was still in her phone, taunting her. She had made him leave, after the yelling and unpredictability got to be too much.
But the pain also got to be too much without him. And the purpose of him leaving was to stop feeling this way. Despite his outrage that she feared each day, she longed for that voice, that face of familiarity, the arms which could protect her from harm.
It was 3 am. She didn't know what she was expecting, but he didn't pick up. It was his answering machine.
"Hi, you've reached Jack Shephard. I'm not here to take your call, so-"
And it stopped. And he breathed into the phone, where he knew she was waiting for him.
"Should I come over?"
That's what she was waiting for.
Instinct still dominated his senses. The instinct that something was wrong or that she needed him, or that she missed him as much as he missed her. The house was dark inside. He still knew his way around, though. She would be where she always was-the closet behind their bedroom. Or rather her bedroom. It was a big closet, enough for all of his suits and scrubs and her lack of clothes.
And she was. She sat against the tall mirror, in which he saw the mess of hair that was tied up off her neck. Her face showed only desperation and hesitation.
He closed the closet behind him and didn't turn on the light. In his button down shirt and pajama pants, face free of that terrible beard-he sat next to her on the floor, a distance away. And as she turned her head toward him, there was a gravitation to move closer, so she did. She sank into his self tentatively and the tears flowed into him. Words were not necessary. The atmosphere he brought with him and the look of sincere worry in his forehead was all she needed. This-him-he was what canceled out the hurt.
Prompt: un_love_you- This cancels out the hurt.
Fandom: Lost
Pairing: Jack/Kate
Word Count: 367
Rating: PG
Table: Here.
Spoilers + Disclaimer: Post-island flash forward type stuff. I don't own them.
Summary: Kate's has been without Jack for a while, but sometimes she still needs him back.
Notes: 5/30.
He was still gone. It could be said hundreds of times and still she would feel the same gut wrenching pain. And worse, there was no consolation. She had lived alone for almost 8 months now, ever since he left. His contact was still in her phone, taunting her. She had made him leave, after the yelling and unpredictability got to be too much.
But the pain also got to be too much without him. And the purpose of him leaving was to stop feeling this way. Despite his outrage that she feared each day, she longed for that voice, that face of familiarity, the arms which could protect her from harm.
It was 3 am. She didn't know what she was expecting, but he didn't pick up. It was his answering machine.
"Hi, you've reached Jack Shephard. I'm not here to take your call, so-"
And it stopped. And he breathed into the phone, where he knew she was waiting for him.
"Should I come over?"
That's what she was waiting for.
Instinct still dominated his senses. The instinct that something was wrong or that she needed him, or that she missed him as much as he missed her. The house was dark inside. He still knew his way around, though. She would be where she always was-the closet behind their bedroom. Or rather her bedroom. It was a big closet, enough for all of his suits and scrubs and her lack of clothes.
And she was. She sat against the tall mirror, in which he saw the mess of hair that was tied up off her neck. Her face showed only desperation and hesitation.
He closed the closet behind him and didn't turn on the light. In his button down shirt and pajama pants, face free of that terrible beard-he sat next to her on the floor, a distance away. And as she turned her head toward him, there was a gravitation to move closer, so she did. She sank into his self tentatively and the tears flowed into him. Words were not necessary. The atmosphere he brought with him and the look of sincere worry in his forehead was all she needed. This-him-he was what canceled out the hurt.