Hey. I am currently writing this story at (I got the main idea from a thread there called Skate Writin' Requests.)

It's slow getting to the main problem, but there is a reason for that because a lot needs to be said before I can write what I want to be written.

Disclaimer: I don't own Lost.

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Kate clutched her left hand tightly to her chest and walked, tears in her eyes. She hated crying. She took a shaky breath and looked over to Sawyer's tent. He was sitting there, reading his letter again. She hadn't seen him with it since he had left. She looked at the letter, thinking of the irony of the moment. The look on Sawyer's face was one of a man who felt he was alone. The look of someone who believed no one could ever understand them. Kate sighed.

"I understand you Sawyer… better then you think." She crossed her arms and walked slowly over to where he was. Sawyer folded up the paper and put it in his pocket. He looked up to see Kate and shot her a forced smile, he knew she'd seen.

"Morning Freckles, what brings you over here?" Kate smiled and slightly shook her head, trying to push away all her emotions.

"Guess I just felt like I wanted to be insulted and disgusted again." Kate smiled and looked out at the water. Sawyer smiled, knowing she couldn't see him looking at her. She hadn't left his side for more then an hour since he woke up. She was even sleeping under his tarp so she could, 'keep an eye on him'.

Not that he was complaining.

"What you got there Freckles?" Sawyer pointed to the object Kate was clutching tightly in her left hand. She looked down at it and smiled sadly.

"Just found it by my stuff. Apparently someone hasn't forgiven me for…" Kate paused. She didn't want to say it. Sawyer understood right away.

"Someone got into your stuff and destroyed something of yours?" Kate nodded.

"Don't worry about it… it's not like it was a big… it was… it wasn't… it's nothing." Sawyer shook his head.

"That ain't the face of someone who just lost something that was nothing to em Kate." Kate looked up. The way he had said her name just then, he really did care that it was something important to her. She couldn't remember the last time he'd called her Kate. She sighed, actually, she couldn't remember him ever calling her Kate.

"It's fine Sawyer. It needed to be destroyed anyway." She looked at the ground. "And I definitely wouldn't have done it myself…" He searched her face and saw how much pain she was in. He hesitantly reached over and put a hand on her shoulder.

"You wanna talk about it?" Kate shook her head.

"No. Not now." He nodded. He wasn't going to push her. He smiled and looked out towards the water.

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Sawyer opened his eyes. He could see that it was dark out. A quick survey of the beach let him be assured that everyone else was asleep. He knew he wouldn't be going back to sleep anytime soon. He looked down beside him, but Kate wasn't there. He shook his head. She must have decided that he was fine by himself. He wanted to shoot himself all over again for feeling disappointed that she wasn't there.

"What are you doing up?" Sawyer turned to see Kate walking towards him. Her eyes were red and she had her hand clutched around the object again.

"Couldn't sleep." He nodded towards her hand. "That's the thing isn't it? The one that someone destroyed." Kate nodded. "What are you doing?"

"I was going to throw it into the water. Get rid of it… but… I just can't Sawyer." Sawyer lowered his eyes. He knew it was his fault that it was destroyed. He had, after all, exposed her as a criminal. And he hated himself more then he usually did because he couldn't bring himself to say sorry.

Kate watched Sawyer closely, before looking around, making sure no one was awake. She knew neither of them would be going back to sleep anytime soon. She silently walked over and sat down on the edge of Sawyer's makeshift bed, where he had subconsciously moved back so she could sit.

She looked around, the feel of the sand on her bare feet and the wind caressing her face and arms made her glad Sawyer had decided to go back to the beach rather then stay in the hatch. She took a deep breath and turned to Sawyer. He held his hand out, no words were needed between the two. They knew what was happening.

Kate gingerly placed the object in her hand into Sawyer's own hand and pulled hers away. He broke her gaze and looked down at it. He ran his fingers across the small object.

Sawyer now held Kate's toy airplane in his hand. The wings had been broken off and the body of it had been crunched together.

"Kate…" Kate looked away.

"The plane… do you still want to hear my story?" Sawyer sat up, then waited until Kate looked up at him. Their eyes met and she knew she had his attention. "The plane belonged to the man I… the man I loved." Kate's eyes fell and took a few deep breaths before looking back up at Sawyer. "His name was Tom…" Sawyer looked down.

"He… he was a… doctor…" Sawyer's head snapped up to see the look in her eyes.

"Knew you had a thing for doctors…" Kate looked up at him, obviously hurt by the comment. He looked down. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her more pain. He bit his lip and looked back at Kate, who took it as a signal to go on.

"The plane… I took it to remind me of what I'd done." She felt her lip quiver and she looked down at the plane, still in Sawyer's hand. "I took the plane the day that I killed him." Sawyer clutched the blanket in his hand, but his face didn't betray him.

"What happened?" Kate bit her lip.

"He was shot by a cop." Sawyer nodded, though he was completely confused. "I was driving and he was in the passenger seat. He told me to turn myself in but… I drove straight through and ignored the shots. When the car stopped, I looked over and noticed that he… he was gone…" Kate broke off. Her eyes were glued to the plane. Sawyer didn't move. His eyes fell to his pocket, where his letter was gently folded up. Kate took a sharp intake of breath, and Sawyer looked up to see her slide down onto the sand and bury her head in her hands.

Sawyer just sat there, watching her cry. He couldn't bring himself to bring her closer to himself. He couldn't even think of any words to say. He felt the urge to get up and run away, to be as far away from her as possible. He closed his hand tightly and clenched his jaw.

It's not like it was the first time he'd felt this way about her. He'd felt the same urge, the same need to get away from her when he'd figured out that she had been the criminal on the plane. Only this time, he didn't have a raft to run away from her on.

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How was that? Please RnR.