Author's note: Hey everybody, Katie here! Well, this is my first Lost fiction, and please keep in mind that I'm a new fan, and haven't seen all the episodes yet (Only 3, actually)! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this; it's just a light, fluffy little fic. Please review and feel free to leave suggestions for other fics.
Disclaimer: I really hate these things. If I owned "Lost" I would be on a yacht in Hawaii, not at home on my computer in the OC. So, no, I don't own it.
What If?
Kate stood on the beach; thinking back to when she had first unearthed Sawyer's deep dark secret. She was partially pleased with herself for discovering Sawyer's real past, and partially sadden because it was his past. It didn't matter that he wasn't the nicest person on the island; no one deserved that kind of tragedy in his or her lives. On the other hand, she was almost grateful to learn of his early life. It him easier to forgive, especially went he went did something stupid such as telling the entire island that she was the criminal. As much as pained her to say it, he did have a point. Kate would have done exactly the same thing if it were she in his shoes.
She closed her eyes as her mind repeated the contents of the letter. It was so strange to think of Sawyer as a little boy, small and vulnerable. Kate wondered what he was thinking right now. He'd left with Michael, Jin, and Walt just yesterday and she wanted so desperately to talk to him about his past right now. Funny, the thought hadn't even entered her head until he was gone.
Why is it, she thought, that whenever you're sitting right next to someone you can't think of a thing to say, and the moment their gone a ten page questionnaire pops into your head?
Kate pondered what questions she would ask him. Who took care of you after it happened? Do you hate your Dad for what he did? Do you hate your Mom for what she did? She knew he hated the real Sawyer, so that question was useless. Why did he change his name? She had discovered (via his passport) that his real name was James, and Kate thought, for some odd reason, that it suited him perfectly. Suddenly, another question struck her.
What would you be like if your parents never died? Would you love me then?
Oh, how she wished she knew the answer. But Kate shook her head and sighed, almost laughing to herself as she walked back to her makeshift bed. She would never know—wishes didn't come true, not in a million years.
She didn't the shooting star that flew across the sky.
(Flashback)
Tennessee, 1978.
Eight-year-old James awoke with a start. He opened his eyes and saw his mother leaning over him, fear in her eyes.
"Wake up. He's here. C'mon. Got to get you up. He'll think you're still with your grandparents, okay? Get under the bed. Let's go. Listen to mommy, this is really important. Get under the bed, don't make a sound; don't come out, no matter what happens. Don't come out, okay?
He nodded, "Okay."
Laura Ford looked into her sons eyes, eyes that mirrored her own. "I love you," she whispered.
"I love you too, mommy."
"Let's go. Down you go." She forced her son under his bed and headed downstairs. James could hear the pounding from under the bed, and instinctively crawled up into the fetal position.
Suddenly he noticed something: the pounding grew harder and harder as if his father was gaining rage with each second that passed. His mother hesitantly opened the door, and James felt fear grip his stomach. He didn't know why but something told him to get up. Suddenly he was running down the stairs and able to see his father in front of the door with a pistol in his hands. And then something happened within James—some strange force took hold of his body and forced him to shield his mother.
"Don't do it, Daddy. Please, Daddy, please!" he cried out in desperation. Jacob Ford glanced down at his son and instantly felt his grip on the gun weaken. He stood still for what seemed like hours.
"You look so much like your mother," he finally muttered, still shaken. He let the pistol fall to the floor and picked his son up, finding comfort in James' little arms liking around his neck. He glanced at his wife who stood by, silently crying.
"Laura…" his voice was hoarse, and it was obvious that he was fighting back tears. "I don't—I don't know what…"
She sighed deeply and smiled up at him, "I'm sorry too." She gripped his free hand and tenderly fingered his wedding band.
"You—you want to start over?"
As she nodded her gaze fell upon her son. She knew she would be dead now if not for James. She had raised him well.
No, she thought, we raised him well.
Kate opened her eyes to the sounds of excitement and awe. She scrambled out of her tent and ran towards the voices on the beach. What she saw there made her heart skip a beat—the raft. But no one was on it!
Suddenly she saw them; Jin hugging Sun, Michael shaking hands with Jack, Walt playing with Vincent, and Sawyer…where was Sawyer? All of the sudden she saw him, but something wasn't quite right—he was carefree, almost gleeful, and as he got closer she found kindness in his eyes which she had never seen before.
Kate didn't know why but she ran towards him, and threw herself at him as his arms encircled her waist. And then it happened; he kissed her, and it was like no kiss she had ever received in her life. It was just enough to make her knees weaken, and she clutched him harder for support. When he finally released her, he was bewildered to find the startled look on her face.
"Something wrong, Freckles?"
"Sawyer—"
"Sawyer? What's that, a new nickname for me?"
She continued to stare at him, almost afraid. Was she dreaming? No, it couldn't be.
Kate laughed nervously, "Yeah…like Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn—and their raft," she said lamely. Then, "James?" she asked hesitantly.
"Yeah?"
A look of realization came upon her as she remembered her wish. It must have come true! How? But as she looked into his eyes Kate suddenly no longer cared how it happened, she was just grateful it happened, period.
"I love you."
She saw a God-honest smile on his face for the first time in her life.
"I love you too, Kate."
End.
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