Lost and its characters belong to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot and The Others. Henry interrogates Kate. Possible season three spoilers. Enjoy!
Lost -- Fanning the FlamesBy Mystic
July 21, 2006
"Good morning, Kate." Henry's voice was always even with her. Calm and assuring. And he never entered her personal space when he opened the door to her room. He stood back, waiting for her to get up from her bed, or from the ground, or the chair next to the small desk. Today she was sitting at the edge of the small bed, her hands crossed over a space between her knees.
"Morning," she replied curtly, stepping out of the shadow and into the light pouring in from the hallway.
She never called him by a name. He expected her to greet him by 'Henry'. Jack did. In a condescending tone, knowing it wasn't his name. Sawyer didn't, but he had his own clever names picked out to replace it. His favorite was Hatch Monkey. It made him smile in that way that made Sawyer sneer.
He watched her rub her hands together through the fabric of the long-sleeved tan shirt they'd given her. It was two sizes too large and hung limp against her body, but she said she didn't mind. She didn't seem to mind much of anything. From the moment they'd captured them, she'd been subservient. Henry thought she'd given up, but in reality, he knew she was just playing along. It intrigued him. He expected her to put up a fight with them.
The legs of her pants covered her bare feet and dragged along the ground as she walked towards him, knowing they were heading towards the interrogation room. It was the only reason he ever came for her. She lowered her head as she passed and turned the corner. Tom was waiting. He never had to do anything, but he waited anyways. For signs of a fight.
Henry expected her to be the most aggressive. He'd learned about them all through Walt, through Claire. Fugitive. Brought in handcuffs by a US Marshall, the boy had told him, excitement in his eyes.
"But is she dangerous," Tom has asked passing Henry a glance of hesitation.
Walt shook his head slowly. "No, naw, she's cool."
Henry did his own research; he knew what they were all capable of. But Jack wouldn't fight and Sawyer couldn't con. Kate, he smiled, watching the way her hair fell over her shoulders and swayed gently as she walked, Kate could run. Boy could she run, he thought to himself. And her deception, it was what kept him on guard despite her supposedly good behavior.
Alex opened the door for them, nodding at the woman who smiled at her politely. Henry tossed the youngster a look of frustration, making her recoil, letting go of the door and heading down the hallway. He'd forgiven her for Claire, but he wasn't going to let it happen again. He glanced back behind him, letting Tom know he could leave, and he looked back at Kate, who rounded the metal table bolted to the ground and moved into the metal chair attached to it. She swallowed visibly and put her hands in her lap.
"How are you feeling this morning?" Henry asked gently, raising his chin in her direction.
"I'm doing fine, and yourself?" Her left eyebrow went up slightly, waiting.
Henry smiled. She never flinched the way the men did. It made something inside him bubble with excitement. Aggressive resistance was what he was used to. He paced the room, watching as she stared right back at him, just waiting. "I'm doing well. Woke up this morning more refreshed than usual. Do you know why that is?"
Kate shook her head slightly, leaving it tilted to the left slightly, her eyelids dropping just a bit, as though annoyed. She knew he was going to tell her and he knew she wouldn't ask. Henry put his hands on the table.
"You."
She snorted and that single noise made the corners of her mouth lift into a smile. He hadn't seen her smile in a few days. It was beginning to worry him. His goal wasn't to frustrate her, just explore her potential. He tried to tell her a joke once, but she stared at him, clearly not amused. He was never good at jokes anyways. Scientists, he knew, weren't about the punch line.
Henry watched her smile to herself before ducking her head and then looking up at him. She didn't hide her amusement the way he expected her too. But nothing about her was what he expected. It was what made him tell Klugh he'd hand her personally. It was what kept him awake at night thinking of what to ask of her next. The men gritted their teeth and refused to participate. Jack ripped up paperwork and Sawyer drew obscene gestures with a hearty grin.
Kate sat patiently. When he asked her questions, she'd given him answers. When he lied and told her she was wrong, she shrugged. "Maybe this isn't my forte," she'd responded once, touching the edge of the card he held in his hands. "Star," she sighed when he'd just stared. He shook his head; he lied again.
Watching her now, grin still planted on her face, he asked, "Aren't you the least bit curious about why?" His head gave a small shake of confusion.
Kate shrugged. "Honestly? No." She glanced around the room. "More curious about Jack." There was a pause, during which the smile disappeared. "Sawyer."
"I find it interesting that someone who's survived on a need for self-preservation cares so little about herself in dire circumstances and so much for the conditions of others." Henry grinned and this time, it affected her. "Why is that?"
Her eyes shifted off his, onto the table and she went silent. Henry watched the way her expression glazed over, tuning him out. Tuning the situation out. He took a step towards her and watched, with a kind of amazement, the way her eyes sharpened, focusing on his left hand as it slid along the table. There was the Kate he wanted. Henry took in the quickening of her breath, the way her jaw clenched and he pushed, he rounded the table and lifted his hand, letting it land on her shoulder, feeling her muscles tense under it.
Standing behind her, he moved his right hand up, gripping her other shoulder and he inhaled slowly, waiting for her to snap, wondering just what it would take. He'd tried taunting her with threats. He'd told her that the men shout out for her from their cells, that they ask about her during their sessions. Henry even divulged that they think about her in their sleep, understanding that she could infer something about who they were, what they wanted, just by that information.
He remembered the way she stared at him inquisitively. The thoughts that raced through her mind as they did now. Kate asked curious questions, but never aloud. She had curious thoughts, curious memories, curious nightmares. Henry gave her shoulders a squeeze and felt her flinch, and he proceeded to massage the taught muscles underneath his fingers.
"Would you like to see Jack?" He smiled, then added, "Sawyer."
For a moment, she allowed nothing more than a grunt, then she said, quickly, roughly, "Yes."
Henry's hands released her, feeling the anger bubbling just below the surface. "How do you know they're even alive?"
Kate waited until he turned, leveling her stare at him. "Because you're thinking it." She paused, pushing her hair behind her ears before continuing. "You're thinking about how we'll all react to one another. Whether the positive reinforcement will stimulate positive responses in subsequent interrogations, or whether the result will be more resistance from them."
Grinning, Henry nodded slowly. "You're absolutely right." Then his eyebrows lowered. "You're absolutely right." He eyed her, watching as she lowered her head again and fumbled with her hands in her lap. Henry leaned against the door and pressed a finger against the intercom. "Tom, could you come here please."
Kate stood and walked around the desk, then towards the door and remained next to Henry. She didn't look at him, hugging herself, concern plaguing her face. A knock came at the door, signaling Tom's arrival and Kate raised her eyes to Henry's when he opened it. "You touch me again, I will kill you," she whispered, giving him a nod before exiting with Tom.
Henry rubbed his forehead and watched as she walked down the hallway and back to her cell. She didn't look back at him and something about her step seemed more comfortable, more sure. He smiled to himself, chuckled softly, feeling something cold inside his head. Something that made the hairs on the back of his head stand and he thought he smelled the faint scent of fire.
Finis