I've been thinking about it a lot, and with Jate's onscreen story resolved, now seems like a good time for me to stop writing for them, but I've really enjoyed my time here and I'm not sure I'm ready for it to end so soon after the show so I put a poll on my profile with a list of options in the hopes that something will inspire me. Otherwise I may just have to try to finish my existing AU fics and leave it at that.


IRREVERSIBLE

When she opens her door, he's there.

For months she has felt like her mother must have while her father was away at war, dreading each knock and the news it would bring, but instead of Hurley or Ben or Desmond, it's him. Her returning hero.

"Is this…? Are you real?" she whispers, choking on the word, almost too afraid to listen to his answer.

"Yeah, Kate," he assures her, the sound of his laughter filling her with light, making her feel whole again for the first time in months. "I'm real."

She realises that she's trembling as she raises a hand to his face, terrified that if she touches him it will break the spell and he will disappear, but instead, she's surprised by how solid he is, down to the familiar stubble on his cheek.

"But you died," she reminds him, tears springing to her eyes at the undeniable truth. Ever since she got on the plane she's been consoling herself with the thought that maybe he's still out there somewhere, doing his job, but deep down she thinks she always knew.

He lifts the corner of his faded blue t-shirt, exposing his stomach to reveal a long pink scar that wasn't there before. "Nothing is irreversible," he says simply.

She shakes her head at the impossibility of what she's seeing. "I don't understand. You're Jacob's replacement. I thought that meant you couldn't leave?"

"I did what you said," he explains, grinning at her. "I let the island sink."

None of it makes any sense; it occurs to her that she should ask him how he got off when they took the plane, but the truth is she doesn't care. He's back where he belongs and that's all that matters.

She pulls him towards her and he crushes his mouth to hers, kissing her so hard that it almost hurts. "I waited for you," she breathes when they finally come up for air, still clinging to each other as if they might be torn apart again. "I want you to know that. Claire, Sawyer, they told me I should move on but I never gave up hope that I would see you again."

Ever since she watched him walk away, she's been trying to let go, but in the back of her mind, she couldn't help wondering what if? What if he wasn't really gone? What if he could find a way back to her?

But while she's done everything in her power to hold herself together, there have been days when she thought she would die from the pain in her heart, and the only thing that got her out of bed was knowing that he would have wanted her to take care of the unconventional family that he left behind.

He's so tall that rather than hold their position, he lifts her against him the way he has a thousand times in the past, and she wraps her legs around his waist, cupping his head in her hands and resting her forehead against his. "I've missed you so much."

"Not as much as I missed you," he insists.

He kicks the door closed behind them and carries her up the stairs to the bedroom that she still thinks of as theirs, where he sets her down gently on the bed.

"You are so beautiful," he says as he crawls on after her, half to her, half to himself, and she's so overcome with emotion that she can't speak. He brushes a wayward curl from her eyes so that he can look at her and she smiles at how tender the action is. "I forgot how beautiful you are."

He kisses her again, then when he sits up she peels the worn t-shirt over his head, tracing his scar delicately with her thumb.

Once he rids her of her shirt too, he kisses his way down her neck, across her collarbone to her shoulder, where he lingers over the old scar tissue – all that's left of her wound now – and for once she doesn't feel the urge to try to cover it up.

They're both scarred now because of that island.

Damaged goods, just like she told him all those years ago in the jungle.

"Let's make a baby," he murmurs with uncharacteristic impulsiveness as his lips graze her stomach and she shivers at the intensity of his tone. He lifts his head, moving back up her body until their faces are level again and she can see in his eyes that he's never been more serious. "We've wasted too much time already. I don't wanna waste any more."

Ever since they discovered that they were candidates, all she wanted was for him to forget the whole thing and come home with her so that they could finish what they started. Since then she'd wished that he believed his destiny was to marry her and not to give up his life protecting something that she wasn't convinced was worth saving, something that had brought them all so much pain.

She feels a sob well up in her throat, but this time it comes from a place of pure joy. "I love you."

"I love you too," he agrees.


When she wakes up in the morning, he's gone.

The sound of running water drifts down the hall and her first thought is that he must have decided to take a shower before breakfast, but on rolling over she notices that the left side of the bed hasn't been touched, and with painful clarity it hits her that she's been alone the whole time, because Jack is dead and will never come home.

Some things are irreversible.

It's not the first time she's dreamt of him and she doubts that it will be the last.

A sense of desperation washes over her as she struggles to hold onto the last remnants of him – the taste of his mouth, the smell of him, the way he always managed to make her feel like she was the only woman in the world – and for a moment, she considers giving in and going back to sleep in the hopes that they'll be able to pick up where they left off, but she can hear Claire moving around outside her door and she knows that Aaron won't be far behind.

And so she forces herself to get up and face another day without him.