Just a little one shot I thought of, kind of a reverse of what's going on on the show between Jack, Kate, and Aaron. It's a bit different from things I've written before, so of course I'd love to know what you think.
Gone Again
Jack watched the sleeping boy turn fitfully, his leg wedged in between the couch cushions where he'd suddenly fallen asleep almost an hour before. Aaron was a few months past three years old, and Jack could hardly believe it. He couldn't believe how far they'd come, what they'd been through, but most of all, who wasn't there with them.
They'd been happy in the beginning- Jack, Aaron, and Kate. Almost like a family. He and Kate's relationship progressed steadily, until he was no longer surprised to wake up beside her every morning, but not any less amazed by her presence in his life, how she'd changed him.
"Shit," he mumbled, as he stepped on one of Aaron's plastic toys that was littering the living room carpet. He held the sleeping boy in his arms, steadying himself, not being able to shake the nagging thought that if Kate was here, she'd be scolding at him for using profanity in front of the child. And as Jack climbed the stairs slowly, he let out a sad smile, letting the soft smell of the boy in his arms comfort him.
Aaron remained asleep as he placed him gently in the bed, Jack breathing a sigh of relief when he didn't wake. The sheets on his small bed he'd recently graduated to were covered in stars and rocket ships. Kate had picked them out. This whole room reminded him of Kate- no, this whole house reminded him of Kate. Sometimes it was a blessing, when he wanted nothing more than to take their relationship back in time and relive their best moments, and a curse when all he wanted to do was forget, to pretend that no such thing ever happened.
He stared at Aaron's sleeping, relaxed face, and wondered if he really knew what was going on. When Kate first left, he was constantly asking where she was, why she wasn't there to tuck him into bed, why Jack didn't slice his oranges the way she did, or decorate his pancakes with smiley faces. Jack had never known what exactly to say, how not to reveal his broken heart to a three year old, so he'd put on his best brave face and explained that she'd be back. But whether he told this lie for himself, or for Aaron, he wasn't quite sure.
When Kate first left, Jack wanted nothing more than for Aaron to forget about her existence, to forget the woman who raised him for a few years. Most of all, he wished that question that always managed to escape Aaron's lips, mostly in quiet, heart wrenching moments, would stop. "Where's momma Kate?" he'd ask, not realizing that when Jack's head bowed in front of him, he was hiding the tears forming in his eyes, the little boy not realizing that the man he looked up to, the man who he depended on for love and devotion, was wondering the exact same thing.
Three months ago was the last time he saw her. She'd stopped by the house late at night, when she could be sure Aaron would be asleep. She looked at him with weepy eyes, kissing the tears that were rolling down from his closed eyes and downward to his cheeks, then his lips, holding his hands, every part she could get a hold of, so tightly it actually swept through his mind that she wouldn't leave again.
She'd wanted him, needed him so badly that they made love right there in the living room, grasping, reaching for each other, breathing the other in, because they knew then, more than ever, that it could be their last chance. Kate worked her head into the crook of his neck and she breathed him in, biting, suckling, kissing the flesh there and then finally his mouth, pulling away and clutching his head to her chest when she reached her peak, like she always did when she was with him.
"I'm sorry," she had breathed after he came inside her, kissing his jaw squarely, breathing hard, their bodies pressed together. It was enough to make him pull away from her, enough to make him regret what had just happened. Before he could stop her, she dressed and walked quickly up the stairs, wedging the bedroom door open, staring at her sleeping son. He watched her open the door a little wider, like she was daring herself to go in, but she couldn't, the tears streaming down her face. Then she left, giving Jack and Aaron one last glance. "I'll be back, I promise," she whispered, closing the door tightly behind her.
He hadn't bothered to go after her.
Jack shook the memory and stood straight from his place by the window where he'd been leaning. Checking one more time that Aaron was asleep for good, he took the stairs down slowly, reaching the kitchen and mixing himself a late night drink. Just to relax, he told himself. He sat in the small leather chair for a few minutes, then found himself reaching under the coffee table, feeling the small squares of paper that were taped underneath.
No, he told himself. Don't do it. You promised yourself. Instead of listening to the conscience that had helped him through so much of this, he pulled the pictures and found they came down more easily than they used to. He'd looked at them too much, practically worn the adhesive off the tape. The day they wouldn't stick back up, he'd told himself, would be the day he'd have to forget about her. He wasn't sure that he could do that tonight.
He shuffled through the five or six pictures he'd stowed away, finding his favorite, a private moment his mother had managed to capture one afternoon when she was over lunching with them. It was springtime and they were lying together in the hammock in the backyard, Kate's body draped across his on her stomach, her head raised and smiling at him. It was so them. How they used to be.
Jack glanced absently at the vivid photos, the images quickly turning from stills to real moving memories, real life. He sighed and stirred his drink, shuffled the pictures back together and palmed them underneath the coffee table once again. When he removed his hand, he heard the stack drop to the carpet softly. Dropping his forehead into his hand, he rubbed the tense skin and muscle there. Like it would change anything, he thought sarcastically. He couldn't, wouldn't forget about her- ever, and Aaron was a constant reminder.
"Daddy?" he suddenly heard, and jumped from his chair, the little boy frightening him. Clinging a small stuffed dinosaur, Aaron stood before him, his hair tussled from sleep.
Jack set his drink down behind the large picture frame on the table beside his chair, hiding it from the small child. "What's wrong, little man?" he asked him in the most comforting voice he could muster. "Can't sleep?" Aaron nodded at him, rubbing his eyes. Jack pulled him onto his lap and relaxed into the back of the chair, the tired boy resting easily against his chest.
They sat together silently, Jack getting the feeling that he'd been a bit distant with the boy lately and he probably just missed him. "Want me to read you a story?" he asked him after a few minutes, after he'd heard Aaron's breathing slow a bit in drowsiness.
Aaron shook his head against his chest. "No story."
"Okay," Jack agreed, rubbing his hands up and down Aaron's arms soothingly.
"I miss mommy," he said suddenly, his eyes welling up with tears. He wasn't asking for an explanation, so Jack didn't offer one.
"Yeah, me too buddy."
"I can't wait til she comes back," he said in his quiet, innocent voice.
Jack's stomach tightened at the words. Maybe if Aaron had faith that Kate would come back, he should too. Maybe they should believe together. "Me either."
Drifting in and out of sleep, Jack thought he heard the door open and then shut quickly, quietly. He held the now sleeping Aaron against his chest and turned his head.
It was her. Of course it was. Just when he'd decided now was the time he'd really try to move on, that this time he actually could. She always had that kind of timing.
"Hi," she said hesitantly, inching toward the living room, her face dropping when she saw Aaron perched against his chest, his arms wrapped securely around Jack's neck. "Oh," she whispered, pressing her fingertips against her lips and her face straining with emotion. "Oh," she repeated.
Jack didn't know what to say after three months, after how it had ended last time. "What... why are you here?" he finally asked her, harshly but quietly, rising from the chair and carrying Aaron up the stairs. He noticed her following him.
Jack shot her a look. "Don't," he warned. "Stay here." He waited until Aaron was settled in his bed and his door was shut to clench his fists and hold back from yelling out in frustration. Why now? He knew she wouldn't be back for good.
She was still leaning against the wall on the landing, her arms folded against her chest, when he made his way back downstairs.
"Jack," she whispered, crushing her body into his, and as much as he wanted to be able to resist, he wrapped his arms tightly around her back and leaned his chin on her shoulder. "I just... I couldn't stay away any longer," she choked out. "I miss you guys so much."
He let her loose from his arms and surveyed her- her unsure eyes, her defeated stance. "Where's your stuff, Kate? Are you back for good?" His tone was sarcastic and a little mean spirited.
He knew the moment he asked- hell, probably even before, what her answer would be.
"Jack- you know- you know that I can't," she whispered to him, cupping his chin.
Flinching angrily under her touch, he backed away. "Then what the hell are you doing here? Are you actually trying to make this harder?"
Kate shook her head soundly, biting her bottom lip. "No," she choked out again. "I just wanted to see you. I wanted to see him."
"Well," Jack started angrily, holding his arms wide open, "You saw us, okay? You got what you wanted, just like you always do."
She moved toward him, backing him into the wall and pushed herself against his body, palms resting flat on his chest, then squeezed her eyes tightly shut once she felt Jack still against her. "You know I don't want it like this."
"Then fix it," he pleaded, pulling her hips towards him. "Fix it," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers.
Kate swallowed thickly, Jack's breath mingling with hers beginning to affect her. "He looks good, Jack."
"He misses you. Asks about you all the time."
Darting her tongue out to lick her dry lips, Kate placed a chaste kiss just below his stubbly cheek. "What do you tell him?" She couldn't get close enough to him, burying her face into his neck, kissing him there, relieved that he let her.
"That you'll be back." His breath comes out in shallow spurts, like he can't get enough of her, like his hope is the only thing holding him up. "You'll be back," he told her, cupping the sides of her face.
Her lips inch toward his, until he can no longer hold back, pressing his against hers, almost roughly, demanding answers from her that she couldn't give. Kate kissed him back, feeling their slight tears mix together and on their lips, the first thing they'd done together in nearly three months. She opened her mouth against his, taking air from his own mouth into hers, sucking his bottom lip, feeling Jack's breath hitch inwards. The stubble on his face scratched against hers and she dragged her fingernails down the rough hair, nipping at his lips softly, afraid that when she pulled away it might be for good.
Jack's eyes remained closed, still backed up against the wall. He knew what was coming.
Her breath hitched in and then she spoke, those final words, until next time.
"I'll come back, I promise."
