Disclaimer: I do not own anything or anyone in this fanfiction.
Rating: T, in case.
A/N: Written for my precious snowflake Eli (riddlewrappedinmystery on tumblr). Not exactly pleased with it, but remember – it could end up worse. ;) Happy belated bday!
Collection of one-shots, scenes from Kate's POV and "missing" things.
MISSED COUNTINGS
One.
It happens quite often that Kate's instinct takes over her actions and she just do what she has to do, without even blinking an eye, like now, when she's running to the caves. She let herself just for a second of panic, feeling like there's a cold stone in her throat, making it hard to breathe. But she's running. For Jack.
Hours pass, and after all, things are not that bad as they could be.
It happens quite often that Kate doesn't think, she just runs. Not exactly runs away, but she runs, like now, when she sees him, covered with dust and tired, but alive. Before she can stop herself, she hugs him, and then, one flash of a moment, it's all right.
…
Two.
As for a criminal, some people could think that Kate is used to deaths, that she probably killed some people by herself. But if there were things that she couldn't deal, one of them was death. In this case, two deaths.
We should really employ a professional gravedigger out here, she thought, standing next to Hurley. Sadly, the only thing they could do; dig holes in the ground, say some pretty magnificent, cheesy words and walk away, trying to survive the next day, to not hear the words: game over. Sometimes she even wasn't sure why they all care so much to stay alive in this hell.
"How are you?" Jack asks when it all ends (except not, it doesn't).
"Terrible, but fine," she answers, nodding her head. When she looks around, with nobody close to them, she says, "It can't be like this."
"I know."
"I know you know." A quite sigh. "The question is: what are we going to do about it?"
He smiles mysteriously, like it's a challenge. "We?"
"As usual." She throws her hands in the air, feeling stupid – like she sometimes feels around Jack, and later she can regret some words or things – but it finally makes him laugh. "Saving the world and stuff."
"Yeah, I think it could be this." He holds her hand, just for a second, and walks away. Now, the air is filled with smell of coming storm.
…
Three.
Maybe it's funny, but every time Juliet is around Jack, Kate feels like a toy that someone get bored with and put it in a corner. It's kind of pathetic, and she doesn't even recognize herself then, like she's someone else, constantly comparing her with the blonde girl. She doesn't sympathize with Juliet, strong, cold and always confident, but there's a thing that the Other girl wins at. She had no occasion to break hearts yet.
Kate wonders why she is the way she is, a fucked up fugitive with unstable emotional side, and it makes her furious that she just can't work out some things in her own life.
Jack, as usual, is very nice to her, smiles and jokes, but it just feels so wrong, so wrong since their meeting when she has been apprehended and he's been fooled by a promise of coming home. She wants to change things, but here they are, in a dead point, with Juliet and Sawyer, the three of them knowing each other for long enough to know some more about themselves, and Kate has no idea what is actually happening with them all.
…
Four.
There are times when Kate can't sleep, being afraid – of what? She doesn't know herself, but sometimes she dreams of the Island, and these colorful dreams often turns to be nightmares. It's been a while since she understood – it's a fear of losing things she has now.
It's raining outside, sound of falling raindrops makes her calm. From what she suspects, it's almost four am. Coffee. Coffee is always a great resolution by this time. Why not?
She almost misses knocking at the door. By the seven heavens, what the hell? If it's some kind of crazy reporter "politely" asking about the Island stuff almost at night, she'll literally kick his ass out of here.
But when she opens the door, suddenly, it just doesn't matter.
Jack's standing right there, all wet, dressed like he was running and get caught by rain. But then again, he smiles, says, "I changed my mind."
Finally.
…
Five.
It's always a chaos; thoughts in Kate's mind mix with each other, cover themselves, lost the track – Jack. Aaron, the Island, Aaron, Jack… Five things that concerns her now.
He still sleeps next to her, and she wishes they could just go back to this night and stay there forever, because morning is followed by the day, and she isn't ready for this day, for coming back. She would prefer to stay in this bed, pretending that the bad stuff didn't happen, and the good things will come again, like usually – but as for them, not much of a hope left.
When Jack wakes up, she falls asleep again, making things easier. Kate runs again, from responsibility and choices she has to pay for. But after she makes one, there's no tuning back. No guns, no glory. Just a bitter reality.
…
Six.
It seems to be years ago, but actually, Sawyer said it a few weeks ago. Sitting in the plane, Kate suddenly remembers these words.
Some of us are meant to be alone.
Tears aren't coming, and the only thing she feels is emptiness. She never was a hopeful person, neither naïve. But sometimes she is like a little girl, who so badly wants to believe in happy endings; but then again, it's a life – and she probably already has got all the happiness she could have in her life. Funny, isn't it? May there be blessed days she didn't deserve, and didn't appreciate.
Kate wants to look out of the window, to see the Island for last time – real last time, this time – but instead she lets flashes appear before her eyes. They are full of Jack.
As the plane slowly lands, something like a panic comes in, and there's a surprising realization.
I don't want to come back.
She closes eyes and counts.
One. (- any color preference?)
Two. (- i'm sorry that i'm not as perfect as you!)
Three. (- promise you'll never come back here for me.)
Four. (- i'm not going without you!)
Five. (- are you with me on this?)
Kate opens her eyes and takes a breath.
(Six. I love you.)