Disclaimer: It'd be fun if owned something Lost-related, wouldn't it? Hmm. But, I don't.
A/N: This is more of an imagery/themed piece more than anything else, and I literally have no idea what got into me with this one :) I hope you like it; it's a slightly different direction of the J/K dynamic, I think.
Sunrise, Sunset
Kate's face was shining, her eyes even brighter than usual, and Jack barely saw the sunlight streaming through the treetops above them before her mouth closed over his and the blinding sun faded into closeness and breathing and her palms gripping his, their fingers intertwined against the ground.
He wasn't sure how this started; couldn't remember specifics, like how she wore her hair up that day (though a stray lock had brushed across his cheek when she leaned down to kiss him), or what time of day it was (though the sun had been sinking below the shoreline, so the sky was that cascading color of orange and pink and blue felt), or even how they'd managed to go off by themselves (though he remembered telling Sayid they'd have one quick look for some more firewood before nightfall). He did remember, however, how they'd only just gone a bit into the jungle when he took her by the elbow and kissed her hard, his hands sliding around her waist, and she had moaned softly when his lips left her mouth to trace her jaw, her neck, her collarbone. He remembered barely being able to make out her face in the darkness of the waning sun when she slipped off her white shirt, pulled the orange one over her head, remembered her lips trailing kisses down his chest, her fingers hooked in the waistband of his pants, remembered cupping her chin his hand in one of the few, breathless moments they broke apart and seeing a wild-eyed expression masking a thin blanket of fear in her eyes.
Jack remembered wondering if this was okay, if this was right, if they would think about it later and regret it (he would never regret anything about her), but he simply kissed her more urgently, like they didn't have all the time in the world.
At the campfire later that night, he sat next to her wordlessly, and she leaned her head against his shoulder, and they watched the sparks dancing above the orange glow crackling in front of them, and he didn't notice anyone else around them, or really care, for that matter, and he felt guilty, because he was supposed to be able to care about everyone at once.
He saw her helping Claire sort through the suitcases upon suitcases for clothes, and when Kate looked up, he quickly looked away, concentrating on the outline of the beach, the swell of the waves breaking across the fragmented rocks glistening in the sun, water droplets left behind on the dry leaves of the palm trees leaning toward the ocean. When he glanced at her again to see if she was still looking at him, she was, and this time he didn't break eye contact. The expression on Kate's face changed to one he recognized well as a careful understanding, and this time she was the one to look away, to excuse herself from Claire and start down the beach toward him. Jack focused on the shoreline, the sliding of the seas back and forth up the wet sand, when he felt her come up behind him. Something moved out of the corner of his eye, and he turned to see her hand held out. He looked up at her, her face shadowed by the sun framing her in the sky, and the smile she wore was of a strange sadness. Jack was confused for a moment, but the look in her eyes told him there was nothing to wonder about, and he took her hand as she led him away from the camp.
Kate was so close, breathing into him, breathing him, until he was afraid he would break her, by the sheer intensity of the sun swarming in on them, her heartbeat racing his, rocketing over the edge of a cliff he couldn't protect himself from even he wanted to. She looked up in the heat of a moment, her eyes bright, too bright, and both were gasping for air. Jack tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, leaning up and met her lips in fragile kisses, like the drops of water on the rocks, in danger of letting go and disappearing at any moment.
Nothing in medical school prepared him for this; he could deal with life and death situations every day, but for some reason, one continual life and death situation, one involving a plane full of people and total isolation, combined with a slowly dwindling supply of hope, was something he knew he was unqualified for. Doctors weren't supposed to have room for doubt and fear and anger and helplessness and not knowing what to do.
There were sleepless nights, and smoking fires, and crashing waves, and none of it seemed to make sense. There was Kate curled up a bit away from the fire, her eyes swept close, her breathing light. There was Jack, there was him, laying down the beach, watching her shadow sleep, and there was everyone else trying their best to ignore the dire circumstances and the veil of hopeless descending over them a little bit each day, just long enough to close their eyes and rest for a little while. He wasn't sure how they all seemed to be able to sleep so soundly, like they weren't alone, a matter he couldn't seem to turn over in his head enough: ALONE.
But then, he thought. He wasn't alone. The woman just as detached as he was lay sleeping by the fire, and Jack turned over on the thin blanket beneath him, folding his arms and resting his chin on them to watch the side of her body rise and fall with each breath.
It was always just after darkness fell that he thought of this, that he thought of waking up early to meet Kate in the stillness of the morning air, walking alongside her in the jungle with a group going hunting, pretending nothing was different, not being able to kiss her, or touch her, really, unless they stayed toward the back of the group and Jack intertwined his fingers with hers as they walked, and she smiled at him, a secret smile that flashed briefly before she looked away into the tangles of leaves and sunlight and never-ending island.
Jack thought of all the things he didn't know about Kate; her full name, what she was like as a kid, what her hobbies were, how she liked her coffee, if she even liked coffee, why she was in the custody of a U.S. Marshall...the last one rolled into his mind as easily as the others, and Jack shook his head. It didn't matter; he knew it didn't matter. He also knew that all he had to do was ask, and he could bury that mystery and worry about the coffee thing.
Maybe that was the problem, he thought. If he knew what she had done, why she was a prisoner being brought back to the U.S., he wouldn't be able to bury it – that would being to light a whole new shade of problems he didn't know if he wanted to jump into so quickly. Funny, how many levels he had progressed on with Kate, and yet how many he'd left untouched.
He wondered if that was wrong, somehow – was it wrong to be able to kiss her, to touch her, and not know how she liked her coffee. He wondered if it was wrong to know so little about everyone on the island, and to treat them like the dysfunctional family they had become, united under a common notion of despair.
He thought about this sometimes, but then he was kneeling in the water, and she was delicate, splashed with saltwater and sand and sunlight, and her lips were on his is soft, mid-morning kisses, and he couldn't think of anything.
At night, they usually slept apart – no one needed to know, no one needed to see anything. Somehow Jack thought it might make things worse if they did.
This night he lay gazing up at the yawning twinkles of stars above the ocean – serenity and quiet and midnight seas were the sounds of the deep blue sky dotted with pinpricks of light. Jack adjusted on the blanket once more, trying to find some way to fit against the sand – it was too bumpy in all the wrong places, and he sighed and finally relented to lying on his stomach, his eyes drifting across the center of the camp, where Kate slept in her usual spot by the now-extinct campfire. She looked so still and soft, Jack felt a rueful smile creep onto his face. He kicked off the thin airplane blanket and walked toward the campfire, careful not to wake any of the sleeping survivors scattered around him. He stepped over Vincent, sprawled out by one of the logs, and made his way to Kate, kneeling in front of her.
Jack reached forward and pushed a stray lock of hair off her face, and her eyelashes fluttered. Jack pulled back, feeling guilty for waking her, and she stirred for a moment before blinking up at him. She took him in for a moment, almost as though she didn't recognize him, then relaxed and eased up into a sitting position, the blanket sliding off her.
Jack picked up her hand and turned it over in his, absentmindedly rubbing her wrist with his thumb for a moment, then stood, still holding her hand, meeting her gaze as she watched him. Kate stood up as well, and Jack could feel her in front of him when he closed his eyes, felt her hands gripping his, and he leaned down toward her. She tilted her head up and met his kiss, sinking into the feeling of his mouth exploring hers, her hands leaving his and sliding up around his neck. Jack felt a little dizzy at the intensity of the kiss, and he held her waist, pulling her closer to him, he just needed her closer, until he could feel every inch of her heartbeat against his.
Jack finally broke the kiss, pulling away only slightly, and he met Kate's eyes in the moonlight. She was breathing as hard as he was, and he took her hand and began to lead her away from the campsite. Kate followed without resistance, and when Jack reached his blanket he laid down and held the blanket up wordlessly. She knelt in the sand and met his eyes, and he could see the nervousness etched across her face even in the dim reflections of the light. Jack looked at her, his expression offering comfort, and his real intentions, and Kate slowly relaxed as she realized. She crawled under the blanket, and Jack let it drop over the two of them, so she was facing him, his hand resting on her side. She looked up at him, and Jack touched her face gently, wanting to ask her a million things, none of which he knew would matter or make any sense in the morning, and he pulled her toward him. She rested her head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her waist, and Jack shivered involuntarily – he'd never been this close to anyone before. He could feel Kate, feel her breathing, her quick heartbeat, her cheek against his neck, feel every bit of her body pressed against his, and the intimacy chilled him as well as flushed him with heat and a shudder of breath, and he felt Kate's lips press against his cheek softly before she buried her head in his neck. He held her tighter, thinking if this was how he spent forever on this island, that would be okay.
Sunrise was a dim lavender, a smoky screen of floating, deep blue reflected off the calm seas. Stillness lay sleeping over the beach, a calm Jack had rarely been able to experience since chaos seemed to have descended over the island with the plane crash, an air of urgency widespread between sand and sun.
A slight breeze picked up, wisps of morning air drifting across the beach, and Kate stirred on top of him, her hand resting on his chest. Jack glanced down at her and wondered briefly how she'd gotten there, then decided it didn't matter. He kissed the top of her head as she lay asleep, her breathing soft and regulated with her heart beating surely against his. He remembered as the first sweeps of light started to rise through the patches of clouds over the morning, remembered leading her to the blanket in the middle of the night, remembered the feeling of her body pressed against his in warmth and fragility and the shards of everything he had left from the plane crash, everything that hadn't been destroyed in the fire and the smoke.
Jack realized that Kate was awake now, and watching him with the beginnings of a smile twisting on her face. He smiled back, and she leaned up and kissed him, gripping his shirt. She pulled back quickly, hesitantly, and Jack watched a halo of orange and blue fragments of sky framing the waves of her dark hair. He touched her face gently, encouraging her toward him, and she moved closer and met his lips, her mouth breathing and enveloping his own, and he shuddered when her hands slid to his waist to steady herself. The kiss grew more intense, and Jack found his hands roaming her back, tangling in her hair and sliding beneath her thin white shirt to the softness of her smooth skin. She shivered and kissed him harder, unable to get any closer, and Jack decided he needed to be closer, no matter how many laws of science and gravity told him it wasn't possible. His hands left her back and he broke the kiss, her eyes a dizzying intensity as she searched his face with a questioning expression. In response, Jack tugged at her white shirt, and she sat halfway up, her eyes never leaving his, pulling free of the shirt and abandoning it on the sand. Jack's heart started pounding with the waves, and as Kate leaned down and kissed him, breathing him in, he was falling, falling deeper below the surface of the crashing seas, and somehow his shirt was tossed away, as well as her orange one, and he wasn't sure, but a pile of all their tattered clothes were flung aside the blanket as Kate struggled for breath against his chest. Jack closed his eyes and tried to feel the ocean striking in his head, and then she was here, he was inside her and they were falling and crashing and skyrocketing down, down toward the bottom of the ocean, and Jack was terrified of letting go, so he clutched at the blanket and the sand scratching against his palm and Kate gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, and he watched the curves of her skin slowly shadowing back and forth as the sun rose quietly in the sky.
That was the sunrise he remembered, and it was over before anyone else had woken up; they were the only ones who had seen it, an angle he shared with Kate and no one else.
Sometimes Jack saw Kate scaling trees, or moving the parts of the plane across the beach, or hunched over the transceiver with Sayid, and he wondered if she was really as strong as she seemed. He had seen her fragility, her inner strength, everything she wished for and everywhere she'd been, and he still felt as though he knew too much and too little about her, and he felt all these things at once.
Sometimes Kate looked at him this certain way, like she wasn't quite sure how he was going to react, but she never said anything, just kissed him softly and settled herself against his chest as they sat watching dusk descend over the island. Kate was golden in the light of the waning sun, a pure, blinding gold cradled against him, and he knew better than to question.
Jack remembered softness: her skin, the grass beneath them, her breathing when she fell asleep cradled in his arms, and he kissed her hair and watched the sun slowly rise beyond the shadows of the trees, light slowly spreading across the island.
fin
This piece was a real trial to write, trying to mix the imagery with the physical J/K moments as well as create an atmosphere, but overall I'm pleased with how it turned out :) Please take a minute and let me know what you think; it's the only way an author knows her work is being read! Thanks in advance :)
