The Right Thing
01.
The insomnia begins to take effect after she meets Jack at that airport parking lot.
Every time she closes her eyes she sees his face, the overwhelming desperation in his eyes as he grasped her shoulders as a last resort to make her understand, to see things his way.
But she didn't see things his way, she couldn't.
Instead, she got back out of the car and screamed at him, relinquished the pain he had left her with when he had walked out on her and Aaron, and transformed them into words.
Her fingers left marks on the side of his face and even though she knew, with all of her heart, that he deserved it, she couldn't help but feel her heart break as well knowing that it was the first time she ever hit him.
And all he gave her afterward was deep resignation in his face and a quiet apology, and it only made her more angry and more sad at the same time and she knew she had to get out of there.
Because she knew one more utterance of 'We have to go back' would truly be her undoing.
And she couldn't let that happen.
She couldn't become him.
Because she had Aaron waiting at home for her, depending on her.
So she left him there broken and alone, and as she drove home she cried harder than she ever had in a long time.
And she told herself she did the right thing.
02.
Two days after seeing Jack, Claire appears to her in her dreams for the first time.
The message Claire relays to her sends chills up her spine, and all she can do is stare wide-eyed upon the woman she had once regarded as a friend.
'Don't bring him back, Kate. Don't you dare bring him back.'
She bolts upright in her bed with a gasp, the fear consuming her.
But most of all, the guilt is like a heavy object on her chest, the guilt she's been able to push aside as Jack couldn't, and it's hard for her to breathe.
She races to Aaron's room, kneels by his bed, and caresses his hand as she tearfully apologizes to his sleeping form.
She apologizes for taking him away from his real mother, for putting him in this lie that envelops them every day.
Because it's the only way she can.
The next day, Aaron is innocently and blissfully unaware that anything out of the ordinary has happened, while she spends the whole day trying to convince herself that what happened the night before wasn't real.
That it was just that, a dream.
03.
"You look sad, mommy."
She looks over at Aaron from her end of the couch, the sound of the morning cartoons in the background.
His bright blue eyes stare back at her, his young face illuminated by concern.
She manages a small smile. "I'm just thinking, baby. That's all."
Later, as she sets his lunch in front of him at the table, he looks up at her with a solemn expression on his face.
"I know why you're sad, mommy."
She sits in the adjacent chair, leaning against the table on her elbow, doing her best to look unaffected. "Oh, yeah? Why?"
"You miss Jack," Aaron answers matter-of-factly, like he has solved a simple addition problem, and she's taken aback.
Aaron hasn't mentioned Jack in a couple of days, and for some odd reason relief takes over her when he does.
Because it assures her that he hasn't forgotten, that he remembers, just as much as she does, that they had once been a happy family.
She puts on a tight smile, the best she can do at the moment. "Yeah, I suppose you're right."
"Eat your lunch, baby," She adds after a split second, overcome with a sudden desire to change the subject, and he obeys, picking up the sandwich and bringing it to his mouth.
She simply sits there quietly as he eats, and she barely takes notice of the tears that have broken free from her until Aaron slides out of his chair, his small fingers coming to rest on her cheeks.
"Please don't cry, mommy."
She doesn't respond, just merely picks him up onto her lap and holds him tightly to her.
And she's aware, now, that it's only a matter of time until she breaks.
04.
She sits up in bed, a long sigh escaping her lips.
She glances over at the alarm clock on the bedside table.
1:08.
It's just another sign, another reminder of the island, and it seems like everything she sees now is, in some way, linked to it.
As she rubs her eyes the creaking of the hallway floor invades her ears.
She throws the covers off of her, her heart in her mouth at the thought of it being Claire again, but as she swings her legs over the side of the bed, she sees him.
He's a tall, looming figure in her doorway and she instantly knows who he is before he even says a word.
The moonlight filters through the window and shines on the man's face as he moves softly forward a step.
She recognizes him immediately; a flash of his picture propped up on a table at his own wake goes through her mind, and she doesn't bother starting the conversation with the obvious 'You're dead'.
Instead she says, swallowing thickly, "Why are you here?"
A calm smile tugs at the corners of Christian's lips as he replies, "You know why, Kate."
'Because I have to go back', she thinks tiredly, but she stays silent as she peers at him, refusing to say it.
She can't bring herself to say it. Not yet.
"You can't run or hide anymore, Kate," Christian continues, his clear voice ringing throughout the room. "You know what you have to do."
"I can't," She finds her voice again, remembering when Claire visited not so long ago. "I'm not supposed to bring him--"
"It'll be all right," Christian interrupts, his tone reassuring. "Everyone on the island needs you. My son needs you. He won't go back without you."
She suddenly can't stand the darkness of the room anymore, but she knows, deep down, that all she really wants is to see him in the light, to know that he's actually there.
She looks away from his figure briefly, her hand reaching out to switch on the lamp on the bedside table.
The light strains her eyes and as she fixes them on the doorway she sees no one there.
Christian's voice is still all she hears, and she remains seated on the bed, dazed.
But she's sure, without a doubt, that what happened this time was real.
And she knows what she has to do.
After a brief hesitation, she reaches towards the bedside table again, her hand enclosing around the phone.
05.
"Kate?" Jack answers, the concern obvious in his voice, but he sounds different, better, with no slur that she's used to hearing.
"Yeah, it's me," She affirms, trying to think how to begin.
But she blurts it out anyway. "I need to see you. Can we meet--"
"I'll see you there," Jack cuts her off, and she can't help but smile a little at how he always seems to know what she's thinking.
She hangs up the phone and gets dressed quickly, then hurries to Aaron's room and picks him up off the bed carefully and swiftly.
She descends the stairs, grabs the car keys off the desk by the door, and walks out of the house, approaching the car, Aaron's arms tightening slightly around her neck.
"Mommy?" Aaron questions sleepily against her. "Where are we going?"
She opens the door to the backseat, gently lowering him into his car seat. "We're gonna go for a ride, baby."
"Okay," Aaron yawns as she buckles him in, closing his eyes.
She slides into the driver's seat and in fifteen minutes she's at that airport parking lot.
As she pulls in she sees that he's already there, leaning against his Jeep.
She parks the car, her eyes flickering to the rearview mirror and sighting Aaron's peacefully sleeping form.
And she knows that she's not only doing this for Jack, but for him too.
She gets out of the car and Jack approaches her.
He's shaved off his beard, he's dressed better, and he looks better, but she knows that, on the inside, he's still clinging to the same beliefs.
But this time there's no tension between them, just a mutual understanding.
Something in her face must have given it away, because he says confidently, "You saw him, didn't you?"
She nods. "Yeah. He spoke to me too."
"What did he say?"
"Just the same thing you said to me," She answers. "That we have to go back."Jack nods at her, taking a deep breath, and she can tell he's relieved that he's not the only one who's seen his father, that he's not crazy.
They're quiet for a moment, then she gives in completely, letting herself unravel. "How are we going to get back to the island, Jack?"
He pulls her to him in response, and she leans her head against his chest, realizing all of a sudden how much she's missed this.
"I know someone who can help us," Jack replies, then lets out a low chuckle. "You might not be happy finding out who it is, though."
She can pretty much take a guess, but it doesn't really matter, because she trusts Jack.
She has to.
"I'm glad you changed your mind," Jack adds quietly, his hand threading through her wavy brown hair.
She can't help but feel like she's doing the right thing this time.
FIN.