Lost and its characters belong to JJ Abrams and crew, I'm just borrowing for some non-profit fun. Kate reacts to crashing on the island and meeting Jack. (Takes place during the Pilot.)
Lost – Resonance
By Mystic
August 11th 2005
The water rolled off her hands as she held them up to see. His blood is gone. Kate scrubbed underneath her nails with a sponge she found in the ocean. It made her fingers raw and numb, but it wasn't there anymore. She couldn't stand to see the crimson staining the cracks in her skin, following her own veins and crusting in the crevice between her thumb and forefinger.
Kate threw herself in the water and opened her eyes, letting the sea salt sting the tears away. She hadn't touched a man like that, and cared, in years. Her palm lay flat against the warm skin that was speckled just enough with freckles and flexed with every insertion of the needle she held. She'd had to tug, he'd told her to.
Her body turned under the water and she lost which way was up. Breaking the surface, she gasped slightly, standing and looking out at the ocean. Her mother used to take her to the ocean. They'd stand at the shore; she wasn't allowed to go in because her mother couldn't swim.
"I wish we could stay longer," she'd tell her every time.
"Honey, we have to go home." It was all her mother said as they watched the water roll off their feet, burying them deeper into the sand.
Kate felt the waves pull her body towards the sea and she frowned. That wasn't her exit. There was no exit. Feeling the sand between her toes, Kate could see the smile he gave her when he told her she was doing great. He reminded her between stitches. It took a fair few.
"Every quarter inch, until it's stitched closed. Remember to pull the skin taut."
His laughter was still playing in her ears and she wanted to wash them out. Wash him away, but she knew she could dunk her head a thousand times into the frothy sea and he'd still be there. Kate swallowed hard, closing her eyes and seeing his eyes turn back to look at her. She was busy with the fourth stitch. Then the fifth. It was making her stomach turn and her eyes water.
"You're doing just fine."
Shaking her head, she reached down into the water and she brushed her hands together, washing away the sand that remained. Her hair hung wet and heavy against her back and she ran her fingers through it, pulling it away from her body and into a loose ponytail behind her head. It's what she did when she ran too. It was one of the steps.
First she mentally prepared herself. Then she physically prepared herself.
Then she ran.
She watched the ocean bring a new set of waves and she watched them die before they hit her. Not even the waves would touch her now. Kate felt her heart race in her chest as she contemplated stability. It was a big island, she could get lost in it. Or she could choose to find the man who had spoken to her without bias or pity or hate. The man who only needed her help.
What was his name, Kate?
The question played in her mind from a long time ago, or it seemed a long time ago now. In reality, it had only been a few hours. Kate couldn't remember his name. He hadn't given it to her. She'd run away faster than he could get his shirt back on. Now what haunted her was the knowledge that she'd run into him on the beach. Everyone was starting to get back together. The sun was setting.
She didn't know how she was going to sleep. With people. Nearby. Not in another room, or an adjacent car, but right there on the sand with her. Kate stepped out of the ocean and pulled on her pants. She pulled the tank top over her wet bra and found her white shirt hanging off a tree branch. Where she'd left it.
Her flip flops felt tight with the sand crusted onto her wet skin. Kate sat on a thick branch of a tree that hung over the water and she dunked her feet in, shaking them to get the sand off and then she pulled them out of the water, careful not to fall. She could already see him, he'd spotted her.
"I don't see you running now," he'd said only an hour before.
If only he knew. Kate frowned at the thought. If only he knew. He wouldn't be so friendly. He wouldn't have asked her for her help. He wouldn't be coming for her now. He wouldn't be interested at all. If he knew. She waved her feet in the cool dusk air and took in a long breath.
This time she was preparing to stay. Physically, there were no preparations she could take. She should find more clothes – if she could just find her bag. She should find better shelter – but that could wait until morning. Kate watched the smile on his face before he lowered his head bashfully as he clapped his hands together.
How long had he been searching?
They didn't really exchange words. He smiled, joked that he'd found Waldo, and they'd walked back to the camp as the sun set. Kate sat down next to him in the sand as he started to tell her the story of the plane that fell from the sky. She watched the plane he'd made from a green plant with a longing he could never understand.
"I got it when I flew to Dallas by myself."
"I don't know your name." The words cut her and she doesn't know why. She wasn't mentally prepared. It only takes a second. She needed to play a role for him, for them all. She did it all the time, in the second it takes to ask them her name, she'd already created an identity to fit the situation. She picked the identity that would get her what she needed. Only Kate didn't know what she needed now. She watched him, the question in his eyes, the smile still on his lips.
Play the role for them, Katie.
But, which one?
Play the role you haven't played in the longest time.
"I'm Kate."
Finis
