A not so very, not very holiday themed little drabble. Title from a Ryan Star song.


Meet Me Where the Island Ends

It's the same dream, one that she has been having for decades, one that she has every night. Or almost every night. It started a few weeks after she came back from the island the second time. First it was every couple of weeks, and it kept coming back, more frequently, until it became the only dream she has.

They are back on the island, back in their first beach camp, when bad weather and lack of waters were their biggest concerns. It starts with her in her tent, every time, she recognizes everything about it, from the make shift bed made of airplane seat cushions to the dirty back pack she kept in corner.

It always starts with her just waking up and him popping his head in with that big warm smile. The smile that lit up her life every single time she saw it. The smile the memory of which breaks her heart every single time she remembers it. He pops his head in, smiles and she knows she smiles too because her heart flutters and her eyes twinkle and she feels a warmth rushing into her cheeks. He doesn't say anything, he never says anything, he just titles his head and she knows to get up and walk with him.

He takes her hand in his, warm, comforting, reassuring, and they walk down the beach, away from camp. They walk in silence, a comfortable, warm silence. They let the gentle waves lap against their feet, pants rolled up and shoes carried in their free hands. The warm morning sun glistens off their skin and the wind hums between them.

They walk for the longest time until they reach a cliff, sandy, windy and high off the water. He lets go of her hand and turns to her. Silently, he smiles, he nods, and turns back towards the edge of the cliff.

And he jumps. Every single time, he jumps. She tries to call after him, she looks over the edge but he is gone. Every single time. She lost him decades ago, and every night, she loses him again.

She knows he wants her to jump too. She knows he wants her to jump with him. And she wants to. She wants to jump with him and disappear with him. Every single time. But something holds her back. She gasps and wakes up shaking, crying, feeling her heart break again. Every single time.

Until that one night. He starts to pull his hand out of hers but she holds on. Clings to him. This time, she doesn't let go, she won't let him go. This time, she smiles, she nods and takes the first step towards the edge.

They jump together. This time, they jump together. They disappear together. And she doesn't wake up.

The next time she sees him, he is wandering into a concert, babbling something about finding his son.

And this time, it is her turn to take his hand and lead him to their destiny.


Hope that wasn't too depressing. I miss writing Jack and Kate so much. I feel rusty.