Title: Alphabet Soup II (Part 1/8)
Characters: Kate, Jack, Kate/Jack
Summary: A series of drabbles. Jack/Kate. Post The End. Set in the Afterlife-verse
AN: If you read the first version of this, then you know the drill, if not, well, it's not that complicated. These are short drabbles one for every letter of the alphabet. The first version was set in the "real" world post the End. They showed vignettes from Kate's life aster the island. Since they were very depressing, or so I was told, I promised to make a happier version set in the afterlife-verse. These will start off in the world we saw in the finale and then move on onto wherever they went to after the "light".
Afterlife
So this is "afterlife", he thinks to himself, as he takes deep breath and steps out into the main hall. He looks up and is immediately engulfed by a wave of warmth radiating from everyone in the room. He gets a strange sense of déjà vu but is too overwhelmed by what is happening to give it a second thought.
He scans over the faces in the room and for a moment his mind tricks him to believe stories he'd heard in a previous; stories of demons and devils, of darkness, of revenge and anger. With a cautious step he moves towards the first body that greets him, and where he expects to be confronted betrayal, in stead, he is greeted with a friendly handshake and an understanding smile. He sighs in relief and moves on, finding brotherhood where he'd expected resentment, forgiveness where he'd feared blame, loyalty where he'd assumed disappointment, friendship where he'd anticipated hatred…
And as he breaks from Sawyer's embrace, he sees her face, and all the emotions that had welcomed him in the last minute return, ten fold. He'd assumed he would need another lifetime apologizing to her, mending what he'd done, and asking her forgiveness. He'd expected the feel of betrayal, blame, resentment… but instead there is forgiveness, understanding…
He looks at her and he only sees love; pure, unadulterated love.
Beacon
Everything is happening a little too fast, but he is not complaining. The mixture of elation, the overwhelming emotions is a ride he is enjoying. He does not understand how, but he can hear the joy around him, he can touch the excitement, he can taste the anticipation as they travel around the church hall. The whirlwind is almost too much. It's spinning him around and for once he has given up all control, just letting it take him wherever it is going.
And then he looks up and sees her face, the light shining through her smile like a beacon guiding him home. And with one look into her eyes, everything seems to calm down. It is all still there, the intensity of it multiplying with her eyes looking deep into his, but somehow, the storm of these emotions has turned into a smooth calmness, the chaos of excitement settling into a steady breeze. And he realizes that now he can breathe.
Cliff
Light floods the room and wraps them in cool warmth. They're drowning in it. She feels like she's falling, flying, with nothing there to stop her. It reminds her of jumping off the cliff, away from him and towards a life without him, a life of missing him every day. She feels him squeeze her hand and she presses against him tighter. She has leapt of the cliff again, but this time he is flying with her, and she knew he'll be there to catch her. He won't let her crash again.
Death
Sometimes when he closes his eyes, he sees the bamboo swaying over his head, he feels the cool breeze brushing against his warm skin, smells the fresh grass he is lying on. If he closes them long enough, he sees the Ajira plane flying above in the clear island sky. He smiles. He remembers the relief he felt ripping through at the knowledge that she was on her way home, safe; that he had finally saved her.
He never feels the pain. He remembers the wounds, the blood, the pain, but he does not feel it. He remembers the peace, he remembers seeing her taking his hand and guiding him to the ground, her fingers intertwine with his, pressing against the wound, preparing him for the inevitable, for the end.
He opens his sees her look at him quizzically. His smile widens and he brings his hand up to softly brush her cheek. She's always warm, just like he remembers; she sighs and leans into his touch. He lets his fingers trail along her jaw line, down her neck, and he corrects himself, death was merely the beginning.