a/n: Written for eljay's fanfic100's fic challenge. Prompt: 96: Writer's Choice. Hope.
Summary: She regains a small fragment of hope. JackKate. Season One.
Our Only Hope
To hear the phrase "our only hope," always makes one anxious because it means that if the only hope does indeed not work out, then there is nothing left.
It had been a number of days on the Island.
Just enough to make the survivors lose count, yet still be hoping that, by some freak of nature accident, a plane might come across them, and say, "What are you doing here?"
Just enough to knit them together tightly, changing one another's lives in uncountable ways, yet still shy away when times got rough.
It came in waves, as it usually does. Hope isn't one to usually stay. It comes to them in the dead of night, shining the darkened passages of their lives, making them feel confident.
What somebody failed to mention is that confidence is ignorance. If you're feeling cocky, then there's something you don't know.
As soon as the hope made its mark on their hearts and minds, it'd recede away quickly, fading in recesses and crags of cliffs, only appearing when they needed it most.
Hope is a fragile thing to deal with.
Screw around with it, then them, themselves, are screwed.
She contemplated this thought as she looked up through the fabric of her tent. The fires crackling outside, she could hear the breezes blow and the occasional passers-by. Turning to face the other way, she saw the contour of his body against the wisps of fire that shot up with every whisper of wind.
Feeling the hope rise up in her heart, she rolled out of her blanket and padded across the sand, gently tucking a strand of her chestnut hair against her ear.
"Hey, Jack." She took a seat next to him.
"Hey, Kate." He looked over, his eyes filled with an emotion she's never seen before.
He was her hope.
Fin.