Disclaimer: Lost is not mine…however, I am planning on stealing it sometime in the near future (shhh, don't tell anyone!)
A/N: I sat down to do my history assignment on the Incas, and would you believe that I ended up with this instead? I don't think that Mrs O'Brian will be too impressed!
Another A/N: This story is set during the time during Season Two, where Jack was ignoring Kate. And let's just say that Ana Lucia dropped off the face of the earth. She's mentioned, but she isn't actually included in the story.
A Picture's Worth A Thousand Words
CHAPTER ONE:
The Sketch Pad
It was sunrise, and Kate was sitting under a tree on the beach with nothing more than a bottle of water, a pencil and her favourite sketch pad to keep her company. She was lucky enough to have found her bag on the second day on the island, which only held a few clothes, some drawing materials and her sketch pad.
The pad was A4 size and had thick pages. It wasn't fancy, but it was special to Kate. She had owned it since she was fifteen, and it wasn't just filled with sketches, it held memories and notes on how she felt and what she thought. She treated this pad like a diary. It was private and every few pages would have something written, like a journal entry.
Everyday since she found her bag with the pad undamaged (by some miracle) she had spent her sunrises and sunsets at this special beach sketching things she saw during the day. Her Dad had believed that she had a photographic memory, as she only had to picture something or someone in her mind that she may have seen as long as a year ago and she would be able to draw it perfectly with every last detail filled in.
Where she sat as she drew was just as special to her as the pad was, and only one other person knew where it was. But she doubted that this place was as special to her as it was to him, as he didn't seem to want to have anything to do with her anymore. If you haven't guessed by now, Kate was sitting at the same beach where she had first met Jack and had stitched up his back.
No one had bothered her there before the survivors had to move further down the beach because of the rising tide, and now she had even less chance of being interrupted.
She closed her eyes and remembered what she had seen the previous night.
The last thing that she had seen before she had gone into her tent to sleep was Sun and Jin together. Jin had come up behind his wife and placed a gentle kiss on her shoulder, while his arms were wrapped around her waist, softly caressing her abdomen where the new life they had created lay sheltered from the world. Kate could picture every detail clearly. Everything from the small smile playing at Sun's lips, to the soft glow emitted by the fire they were standing behind.
About half an hour later, Kate had carefully filled in every detail of the scene in her mind, and had started shading in the shadows where the light from the fire couldn't reach.
"Kate? Kate?"
The voice came from the dense jungle behind her and Kate realised that she had stayed out longer than she had intended.
She didn't want anyone to find her spot, and as she also didn't want to be caught with the sketch book, not wanting curious eyes to see it. So she left the book on the rock were she was sitting, shoved the pencils in her pocket, not noticing that she had dropped one, and took off into the jungle yelling, "I'm over here!" to Sun, who wanted her help with something.
Jack had spent all morning being the 'Heroic Doctor' and he finally had nothing to do. So he decided to do what he always did whenever he had a break.
But then he realised that he couldn't.
He used to find Kate and talk to her, which he loved doing, but he was still mad at her. He wasn't really, he just let her think that. It was killing him, but he wanted to show her that she couldn't mess with him and then get away with it, like she did with the Marshal's case. It didn't seem to be tearing her up to badly though.
'She seems fine with Sawyer', he thought bitterly.
Jack then realised that if he couldn't talk to Kate, he could do the next best thing.
So he went to the small but beautiful beach where he first laid eyes on the gorgeous, yet deceitful, Kate.
By the time he got there it was about midday, and he really hoped that there would be no disasters so he could have some peace and quiet.
As he sat down, something caught his eye.
It was a fairly large black book just sitting on the ground and a lead pencil was half buried in the sand beside it. Jack picked them both up and looked at the initials written in whiteout on the bottom right hand corner of the front cover of the book.
K.A.
Jack then opened the front cover of the book and saw the messy, black handwriting of a teenage boy on the inside cover:
Dear Katie,
I know that these past few weeks have been really hard for you after what happened to Beth. It's been hard for all of us, but you were closer to her that anyone else was and I'm really worried about you. Anyway, I know how much you love drawing, but you haven't done a single sketch or painting since the accident. Yes, I know that Beth was the one to teach you how to draw and that she was the one who went to art classes with you every week, but do you really think that she'd want you to give up something you love just because she's gone? It's not just the drawing either. Since Beth died you haven't ridden your horse, climbed a tree or gone to your karate lessons. You don't talk to anyone, you hardly touch your food and I can't remember the last time you laughed, or even smiled. Please Katie, I just lost my cousin, I don't want to lose my girlfriend too.
So I got this for you. It's kind of like a cross between a journal and a sketch pad. I don't know why you feel like you can't talk to me, but I'm not going to push you. You'll tell me when you're ready. But until then I thought that you'd be able to write about your thoughts and feelings. I know you probably won't, but you will draw in it. You say that you'll never draw again, but I know you will. You love it to much.
So Happy Fifteenth Birthday!
Sorry it was a few weeks late, but you kinda slept through your birthday.
Don't let this ruin it for you Katie, like I said, Beth wouldn't want you moping over her.
With all my love,
Tom
The message was dated the 4th of June, 1992.
Jack was in shock. That letter was extremely revealing. Jack had learnt a lot. The sketch pad belonged to Kate who had lost her best friend just before her fifteenth birthday in an accident that had put her in a coma.
On the first page, opposite the letter, there was a portrait of a pretty teenage girl done in lead pencil. The girl had her long, straight, fair hair in a plait that was draped over her right shoulder. She was wearing a baseball cap and smiling, showing off her cute dimples.
Down the bottom, the caption read:
Dedicated to My Best Friend
Elizabeth 'Beth' Brennan
1977-1992
It was then that it hit him.
Kate had drawn that picture.
It was so perfect he had almost mistaken it for a black and white photo that had been enlarged and stuck in.
The lighting and shading were perfect and the detail was exquisite.
Jack went to turn the page, but then he realised.
This wasn't just a sketch pad.
It was a journal.
Kate's journal.
She already didn't trust him, she'd made that clear, but if she found out that he'd looked at something of hers that's meant to be private, then their already shaky friendship would be down the toilet.
So he made a move to close the book, but then he thought;
Kate doesn't need to know.
He'd only have a quick look anyway.
So he turned the page…
…TBC…
For those of you have read my other story, Old Memories, I have not given up on it. I just have a serious case of writer's block concerning it. I will eventually get up off my lazy ass and figure out where it goes.
By the way, I will only continue if I get at least 10 reviews!