A/N: So, when I procrastinate I write, usually just little snips here and there but this time I wrote an entire fic! It was an idea I had when LOST producers announced that they had an ending for the show all planned out. Spoilers from ALL seasons and up to all episodes shown in the U.S.A.

It's set at the end of Lost, and of course a JATE one-shot. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I have writing it. I literally got tears in my eyes at the end.

Disclaimer: No, I don't own lost, no matter what the voices in my head say (just kidding of course lol)

I know I used the Penny quote before, but it felt so right for this story. Angsty Alert!

Shatter

"All we really need to survive is that one person who truly loves us"

-Penny (Live Together, Die Alone)

Alive yet dead inside. Something was missing from each of the survivors the day they fell out of the sky; a situation under different circumstances, with different meaning, would appear almost biblical. They spent their first night hopeful of what tomorrow would bring, no doubt in their mind that they could be wrong. But then the night dwellers of the sky, moon and stars alike, made way for the bands of color, pinks, oranges, and yellows, all surprisingly proportionate to each other, that come with dawn. Their optimism proved to be worthless. The cycle continued, day and night, sometimes too fast for them to grasp each individually, the two almost becoming one, furthermore proving that the longer they spent there, time was irrelevant.

And yet they had come to familiarize with this sense of voided meaning; almost preferring it over their previous life. Almost because beneath the beauty of the forest was a mystery, its secret kept until it was too late. Until knowing became almost as confusing as not knowing. The 'monster', if you could call it that, the others, although wrongly accused, and each other, in which the secrets of the island ironically paralleled.

Despite their differences, they learned to live together, as one, as a whole, because when separated it was certain that they'd shatter, like pieces of disturbed glass just in the wrong place at the wrong time. She didn't expect to see that Australian flag along the horizon, becoming larger with each passing minute. Nobody did because they learned not to lean on their dreams, their hopes, their fears, for the strength to continue. They leaned on each other.

It's also why she finds it hard to walk down the narrow gateway of the airport. They're all besides her, walking down the same carpeted aisle, but they are not with her because they have left that place, that 'time', that called for such reassurance. Now, they're in the real world, where dreams and insecurities become you're lifeline, where people live for themselves, where family, friends, and lovers need to be given such names to prove themselves useful.

She wants to be like those people, the ones who can walk and breathe without the need of another to hold them upright, because she can feel the cold medal frames against her wrist. And knowing what lies ahead of her, she can't afford to have that kind of weakness, the kind that doesn't disappear with the absence of its opposition, only becoming stronger the longer it is neglected.

Having seen the other side, how life can be, would be, if lived 'properly', she wishes she could go back. Maybe some of them could get a sense of it here in this foreign world, but she would never taste that sweet sense of euphoria ever again. The only thing that awaited her was a cold empty cell and days. Long, never-ending days, no doubt being spent in the complete opposite of state she had been for the past year or so.

Yes, a year, but it felt so much shorter than that compared to now, the minutes she spends waiting to see what they would do with it, because she is no longer her own person. She belongs to them, and the worse part about it is that she knows what it feels like to not have the iron wrapped around her wrist or the arm escorting her every step. How can you cage a bird that already learned to fly?

She knew, the very second she saw the flag, the boat, the people that emerged from it, that this was it. The end of what was once thought of as an eternal decree, decided upon by fate. She thought about disappearing into the jungle, leaving no trace of her existence after the first day, in turn refusing to give in to them. It was the smarter decision, the right way to go, if there was one for such a situation, but she wouldn't be able to survive in this place alone. Without them, without him, there to pick her up every time she didn't have the strength. It was not the island that satisfied their sense of emptiness that they arrived with, although those from another perspective would beg to differ.

They all watched as the U.S. Marshall led her on the boat, reciting the reason he tightened the handcuffs along with the Miranda Right. She didn't want them to hear, to know why she was being treated such a way, but it didn't matter. They listened and saw, their eyes burning her already dry skin. She turned away, not daring to look them in the eyes, not giving them the respect she knew they deserved, the act marking the moment she picked up on her previous life, tossing it on her shoulder, its weight almost crushing her immediately.

He tried to talk to her keepers, to convince them to at least let him sit with her, but they wouldn't have it, and seated him at the opposite end of the plane. And knowing that this was indeed the last few hours she would spend in his presence, a part of her was glad that he didn't get to see her like this. Tied up and restricted. Broken.

They all look at her as they all make way to leave LAX, and journey back into the lives, the people they left behind. She knows what they want to say and how they'll most likely say it and a part of her is glad that they're not allowed to speak with her because that's the last thing she needs: something to remind her of the life she would never return to.

And then he comes; she wanted to believe that he would, but she didn't trust herself with such a desire, because she didn't know what she would do if he just walked away, without saying good-bye or at least trying to speak with her. He's wearing the same jeans and purple shirt that he wore there, and for a moment she can almost feel the tide against her bare feet, its push-pull routine that she had spent many a time sinking in, her body captivated by its accuracy.

His voice is pleading as he talks to the Marshall, and his desire to speak with her, expressed through his deep cocoa eyes, is so intense that her captor cannot refuse such a request. 5 minutes is all that they have, and there's only so much that she can say, the rest dying in her throat, words never to be spoken, a love, so intense, yet forbidden to be expressed.

"I didn't-" He chokes on his words as he speaks, his eyes locking with hers, for what she presumes to be the very last time. "I didn't want to go without saying-"

"I know." And she does, although she doesn't have the heart to say it. Good-bye was something she never thought she would have to say to him.

"Do you know where you'll end up?" He's curious.

"Most likely back in Iowa, until my court date." She promised herself that she wouldn't cry. "Probably not getting bail, seeing as how it went the last time."

They both share a soft laugh, the moment reminding her of what she would never have. How could something that feels so right be wrong?

He tucks a stray locke behind her ear, and she closes her eyes, pressing her cheek into the palm of his hand, willing him to cup her soft skin and leave an imprint upon her face. Something to keep her going.

"I need you to do something for me, Jack." Her voice almost a whisper, the lump in the back of her throat, the tears in her eyes, getting the best of her. "I need you to let me go. Promise me, that you'll let go."

"Kate-"

"No-" she attempts through a soft sob. "I can't let you do this. I won't. You're going to go home. You're going to live you're life, and be happy. You're going to help….you're going to fix so many more people, and give them a chance….like you gave me one. You're going to be alright…."

He doesn't deny the tears that threaten to spill over his thick lashes; the sorrow reflected in his eyes making her pause, her voice tangled with emotion.

"Promise me, please." She pleads with him. There's so much more that she wants to say, but decides to let it rest with everything that they'll never be. The one kiss they had will forever burn upon her lips, but the ones they never got to share will leave an even darker mark along her heart.

"I can't do that, Kate." He says, "You broke yours, remember."

"That was different-" She attempts.

"No, it was not." He says, the anger in his voice startling her. "It's the same. If you'd stop being so God damned stubborn-"

"Why are you angry with me, I'm doing what's best for you." She pleads, confused at his actions.

"No…no you're not." He says, his frustration getting the better of him. "Stop trying to make things better for me, Kate, because nothing is going to work….The only thing that I want is-"

"Don't say it-" She's warning him.

"Why?" He asks incredulously. "It won't make it any less real."

She turns away to get the attention of the marshal only several yards away, but he stops her, bringing her face to look at his.

"What are you so afraid of?" He's looking at her, looking in her, and in turn seeing everything that she does not want him to. Tomorrow will come too soon and he'll be gone, the only thing she'll have is the possibility, the slightest chance that they'll meet again. She'd rather spend the rest of her life in an eight by ten cell knowing that this is the end, then never finding peace with what they had and what they never will.

"I meant what I said." He brought his lips to her ear, mimicking his actions that fateful night Locke blew up his way off the island and out of her life. "I will come back for you. I will always be here for you."

She feels his hands on her own, his palm flat against hers, her thumb on his pulse point, and suddenly she can feel the strength she had believed abandoned her. His lips against her ear as he spoke, causing her locks to move in sink with his breathe, its push-pull routine reminding her of the tide, constant with purpose.

"I will never leaver you." His voice sending a familiar tingle down her spine, an unrecognizable yet steady feeling deep within her chest.

And then she feels him place something in her palm, small and slimy, its presence her palm suggested to have been there before.

"I will wait for you." His lips make contact to the point where her ear meets her jaw, and she inhales sharply, trying desperately to remember everything about him and this moment they're sharing.

And with one final look he's gone, disappearing behind the people of the crowded airport. She doesn't want to believe the words that he spoke, but something inside her cannot deny the truth beneath his words.

She opens her hand to find two guava seeds, their presence bringing a smile across her face, and a strength rooted deep within, beneath the shallow exterior of fear that the world expects her to rely on. And it's the presence of these two seeds and the promise beneath them that reassures her that she will never shatter.

Fin


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