Remember Me

"Remember me in your heart, your thoughts, and your memories. Of the times we cried, the times we fought, and the times we laughed. For if you always think of me, I will never have gone."

She thinks nothing of it when he calls her name. Its firm and strong and now, looking back, it makes sense. He'd already made up his mind. He was already going to jump. And when he called her name, he wasn't looking for approval or a reason to back out. It was simple. He wanted to say goodbye.

Though it hurts, knowing that she couldn't change his mind. She couldn't make him stay. Not even for her.

Then he whispers in her ear and tells her something, his words soft and gentle but urgent and that puzzles her. She can only briefly take it in but then he utters two words that drag her back into reality. "Remember me" Why is he telling her this? Panic sets in but it's not quick enough as his hands are cupped round her face and his lips are pressed against hers within seconds.

She momentarily forgets were she is, too lost in the moment, that she knows will end sooner than she wants. The kiss is everything that you'd imagine. Its filled with passion and promise of the best time you could have. His lips are soft and gentle against hers (this isn't the cage). Her mind is racing, wanting more this very second (this isnt the tree. She isnt letting him carry on for a reason. For an answer.)

She can feel him slowing, can feel two piercing blue eyes on her closed eyelids. Then there lips are slowly parting, his hands still touching her flushed skin, words falling out of his mouth that at first she has trouble hearing. She focuses and realises that somehow this is the end (for now). He smiles briefly, though there eyes don't connect, but somehow, that smile, that captivating, penetrates-right-through-your-soul-and-straight-to-your-heart smile chokes her and she begins to wonder, what next?

Then, unexpectedly, he's gone. Falling down into the vast expansion that is an ocean. Falling to what? His fate? His destiny? Rescue? She watches as the blue water swallows him and suddenly the helicopter seems too small and too loud that she cant think, she cant believe what's happened. Though the image of him leaning out and just…falling, flashes in her mind and she realises, yes, he has just saved them. He has just sacrificed himself for others. For her.

And she waits for what seems like an eternity, watching the white froth bubble were he landed. Watching. Waiting. Seconds tick by and why isn't he coming to the surface? Its like she's frozen in time as she waits for what is an eternity. Then he rises and she doesn't know what to feel; relief? Somehow that doesn't seem right. He's been left behind. Though he's alive. Safe? Who knows.

Her eyes cloud and she fights to hide it from them. She fights to not touch her lips that are burning from the kiss. She fights to shout and scream and ask them why? Why him? Why is nobody doing more?

But its too late. She can barley see him swimming back to the island, that at one time she told him was home.

Then when the helicopter is out of fuel and they too, are falling from the sky (which all seems to déjà vu and maybe Locke was right) it all seems worthless. And as the day turns to night and she has Aaron in her arms, she stares into the darkness that is as continuous as the stars that shine, and she thinks it seems even less heroic and more stupid and ridiculous.

She shudders as she remembers his words. The soft southern drawl that was breathy and that momentarily tickled her ear as he whispered those words.

Remember me. Why them words? Why? Wouldn't it just be better if she forgot and smiled than remembered and mourned? Though now her mind subconsciously flicks through the memories they had shared together, and it's a bit like counting sheep, they go by fast and the more she remembers the more her eyes droop as she fights to escape.

The fun. "I never wore pink."

The protection. "If you touch one hair on her head I'll-"

The kissing. The jungle. The tree. Just the two of them. Lips touching. Slowly. Delicately. Hearts racing. Remembering the real reason there here. Lips parting. Truth. Anger. Each wanting more.

The cage. Rain. Silence. His hands. Her body. A gentle rhythm. Lips touching. Tenderly. Passionately. A sense of wholeness. Them.

Those four words. "I love you too"

Her eyes are closed now and as she remembers the helicopter passing over him and how she watched him swim away in the water, she smiles.

"So when tomorrow starts without me, don't think we're far apart, for every time you think of me, I'm right here, in your heart."

She wakes to the feeling of bobbing. The feeling of dancing with the ocean. The sun rises slowly and she watches as the orange rays of light unravel over the ocean. It's a new day. They're going to be free (well, maybe for a while). She feels like she should breath a breath of fresh air, but she cant. The only thing that crosses her mind is that inevitable question. Where is he? The island? The ocean?

Tears sting the back of her eyes but don't fall. Never will fall.

Memories are clear and strong. But she will forget.

Unvoiced words spring to mind. Accusations of 'why's'. Why didn't I tell him…? Why didn't we….? Though they will stop.

Tomorrow has begun and she has to understand, he did it to save them. For once not himself. Although that theory will die….

But new ones will start. Maybe…maybe he did it to show everyone that there was some good in him. And good people always have to sacrifice something. For him, the one person he truly loved. This theory too, will eventually fade.

For you don't leave the person you love. Absence defiantly isn't going to make the heart stronger. Is he forgetting? She doesn't know who she loves!

Though she will do what he asked. And she will lie; he survived the crash, but died. She tried to save him, just like she did the other person. She tried. And is she laying it on too thick? This "I tried, really I did" story. Are people actually buying it? Are people as naïve as this. Really are they? Apparently so, as she watches a past friend break down and cry. And is she forgetting? At one time she wanted revenge. Though she rubs her back, gently, reassuringly. And again she repeats that she tried.

The tears stop, and for once in the last thirty minutes she can form a complete sentence.

She nearly chokes when she hears what she proposes. Though she goes along with it. Her daughter needs to know the reason why he wasn't there for her, she tells her. Kate nods, of course. (She's come to realise that just nodding is much easier than trying to find her voice that she knows will reveal the lie. And for once in her life she doesnt want to lie).

The lights twinkle against the nights harsh black sky and at some point it gets hard to identify which are stars and which is just artificial light. In the distance she can hear the waves lap against the shore. Calmly. Quietly. She can feel the sand between her toes and if she closes her eyes she can see the image that provides so much peace to her.

She smiles at the women in the corner; the little girl who's tugging at her hand, a nod of gratitude as she walks by and Kate knows what she's silently saying. Thank you, thank you for doing this. Again, she nods.

Her eyes scan her surroundings, taking in the people and the expressions, every face she sees is a memory, every smile a friendship, every empty space an enemy or - and more likely - a person he couldn't save. A person he'd let down. A person that stayed. Or a person that wasn't supposed to be the hero (Charlie), a person that gave the ultimate sacrifice Jack could never- would never -give. (Sawyer).

They- the public- called this a memorial, maybe it was only for lack of a better word. What are they mourning? Planes crashing? Life? Death? Both? In the eyes of the public this plane crash is no different than others. Why this one?

This all seems so fake, so well organised. People are made to believe something that hasn't happened. Conspiracy somehow seems a better word to describe it. They have formed a lie and the truth is being held with only a select few people.

They are among the few people that know the truth. Them- the special ones, the lucky ones- the Oceanic Six. People look up to them, they are hope to every other plane crash that happens. And its like applying antiseptic to an open wound; it stings.

The first time the ceremony happened it was broadcast on television. That was hard. Millions of people watching, focusing on there faces. The faces of people who have lost a husband, a father, a friend. Haven't they heard on letting sleeping dogs lie? Cant people move on from this- it never happened to them!

She briefly exchanges a look with Jack. Silently telling him, This cant go on! He nods. She turns to Sun, whose forceful eyes lock with hers, Maybe he was right. Sayid. Time to face it. Hurley. I cant take it much more. She turns back to Jack. We have to go back.