Disclaimer: Of course I don't own Lost or any of its characters. I would be set for life if I did!

This is my 50th story! (Well, on this site, at least.) *Throws confetti* Yay!

Twist on a lot of post-finale Jate fics out there. If the timeline on Lostpedia is to be believed, only about 18 days pass between the time flight 316 crashes and the events of The End. Not sure if that's accurate, but I'll take it (for the purposes of this story)!

Kate sat in the dark motel room. According to the blood-red numbers on the bedside clock, it had been six hours. Night had long since fallen, but she couldn't bring herself to switch on a lamp. It would mean she would have to face… things she wasn't ready to think about.

"Tell me I'm going to see you again."

The pain that gripped her chest cut like a knife, and Kate gasped in a breath – wondering if this was what he had felt like. He'd been dying, and he'd known it. That's why he'd pushed her to leave.

"He," she said to herself, bitterly. "You can't even say his name."

But it wasn't grief at his death that made his name unbearable. It was the knowledge that she'd left him behind. The man she'd only just realized she cared about more than life itself, and she'd left him. Because he'd told her to.

Now, sitting alone in a strange room, she found she wanted nothing more than to get on a plane.

She hoped it would crash.

A harsh knock on the door interrupted the gloomy turn her thoughts had taken, but Kate didn't move. The room was dark – hopefully whoever it was would go away.

"I know you're in there, freckles. I can see you in the window."

Damn it. Wiping a hand hastily across her face, Kate walked carefully through the room. She actually managed not to bang her shin on any of the furniture. Switching on a light, she pulled the door open a crack.

"What do you want, James?" She didn't want company, and she hoped it showed.

Sawyer threw his hands up in defense. "Hey, I just wanted to see if you got some dinner – you weren't at the diner with the rest of us."

"I'm not hungry," she replied, not budging an inch. Sawyer's brow furrowed.

Without a word, he shoved his way into the room. Kate tried to keep him out, but he was too strong. It was only moments before he stood next to her, the door closed.

Resting his hands lightly on her shoulders, Sawyer asked, "What's wrong?"

Kate shrugged him off and walked away. She kept her back to him.

"I'm fine."

"Like hell you are," Sawyer replied, following her.

Kate hugged her arms across her chest, praying she could keep the ache there at bay. "Just leave me alone."

"Not a chance." He gently turned her to face him, and then dropped his hands. "What's goin' on?"

Kate just shook her head.

"I know you miss… the doc." Kate took in a deep breath as she stared at the ceiling. "But you've got to get out of this room sometime."

"It's not just that," Kate said before she could stop herself. She grimaced and turned to sit on the bed, her knees curled up to her chest.

"Then what is it?"

Kate sniffled, running her fingers over the mass of her curly hair. She tried not to remember Jack's hand buried in it that night (was it really only three weeks ago?) as he'd pulled her closer for a kiss.

Shaking her head quickly to summon reality, Kate blurted out her secret.

"I'm late," she said, fresh tears springing up magically. She was beginning to wonder if they would ever run out.

"You got somewhere you gotta be, Freckles?"

She closed her eyes in exasperation. "No, James. I'm late." The extra emphasis on the word seemed to help. Sawyer's eyes widened to the size of plates.

"Oh…" Silence fell. It lasted only a moment before Sawyer blurted, "So…" With shaking hands Sawyer reached up to scratch the back of his head as he sat down beside her. It was painfully obvious how uncomfortable he was with the subject. "You and the doc…?"

Kate was glad he was avoiding the name, too. She nodded in answer to his question. "The night before flight 316 took off."

"So… so you're…?"

"I don't know yet," she said, hugging herself again. "I took a test, but I haven't been able to look at it."

"Well how long do these things take?"

Staring resolutely at the floor, Kate pushed down her wandering thoughts of how Jack would be handling the news if he were here.

Jack. There – she'd said it, even if it was only to herself. Kate waited a moment, but a fresh flood of tears didn't arrive. Yet. She knew they would eventually. For the moment she was blessedly numb.

"Kate?" Sawyer's soft voice broke into her thoughts, shattering them like glass. "How long do you have to wait?"

"It was ready hours ago," she admitted. "I haven't been able to…"

Sawyer nodded, standing.

"Where is it?"

Kate looked up at him in shock.

"I can't."

"Yes, you can." The earnest way that he was looking at her almost made her believe him. "Where is it?" he asked again.

"Bathroom counter," she murmured.

"Well, alright," he said with a nod as he went to retrieve it.

Unable to sit any longer, Kate stood and began wringing her hands. When Sawyer returned, holding the small white indicator, she nearly exploded.

"I can't do this James," she said, sobbing. "Just get rid of it – throw it away."

Sawyer had the look of a man who was approaching a skittish colt. "It'll be okay, Kate. You need to know." He closed the distance between them, holding out the test. "You want to know."

Kate held her breath, holding in her cries of protest and grief. She counted down from five, letting go of the fear when she reached zero. Kate tried not to think about where she had learned the trick.

When she had calmed a bit, she held out a hand. She was pleased to note it didn't shake too badly. Sawyer nodded and handed her the test.

Wiping her nose with her free hand, Kate blinked hard to free her eyes of tears. It would do no good if she couldn't see it.

One glance was all it took. Kate went still and silent as she took in the results. She didn't know how long she'd stood there before Sawyer started to get impatient.

"Come on, freckles – what does it say?"

"There's only one line," she answered, her voice breaking.

"Well what the hell does that mean?"

She began to sob again. Sawyer immediately wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight as he rocked her gently back at forth. Kate wondered how the feel of him could seem so familiar and yet so alien. She buried her head in his chest, wishing – praying – to God that it would be someone else there when she opened her eyes.

Of course it wasn't.

As Sawyer looked down at her, his expression softened.

"I'll do whatever I can to help," he said earnestly. "I'd be proud to be a part of that kid's life." Kate knew he meant it, and a ghost of a smile surfaced through her tears even as a fresh wave of grief hit.

"James," she said, staring at the plaid of his shirt, "I'm not pregnant."

Gentle fingers lifted her chin, and Kate met Sawyer's confused face.

"You're not having a baby?"

"No," she replied, sniffling.

"Then what's wrong?" he asked quietly as he searched her eyes.

Kate buried her head back into his shoulder in response, and Sawyer stroked her hair. For the first time in her life, Kate found herself wishing there was something more after death – some way she could see Jack again. Because she couldn't bear the thought that he was gone – that they were separated.

Forever.

"I just wanted something to remember him by," she whispered.

The end! Leave a note if you enjoyed it. This is my first Lost fic (of course I wait until it's all over to write something!), so I'd really like to know how I did.

Thanks in advance.