A/N Hey everyone! If I owned any aspects of Lost, I wouldn't be writing about it. I'd be hanging out with Josh Holloway. And this first chapter is actually a chapter from one of my other fics, "Troubled Water". For those that read it, bless your little hearts, and please be patient. I'm building this story from that chapter. A REAL new chapter is coming soon! Please read and review! Any criticism (or confessions of undying love) are welcome!

Her two roommates Laura and Angel watched the newcomer. When the guard brought her into the cell for the first time, they looked up from their poker game with interest. They had heard about this new one.

They were disappointed. She was ashen-faced, and her thin lips were pressed together gravely. There was an odd blankness in her eyes. She was unhealthily skinny, her posture was bent like an old woman's as if she was ashamed and was trying not to be seen. Her hair was long and curly and looked unattended to. As soon as the barred cell door closed, she gravitated to the bare bed and lay down without a word.

For a long time, they asked her questions politely. They asked the obligatory one – "What are you in for?" She did not answer. They changed subjects. They asked about the plane crash, the island. When she still didn't speak, they asked other things, like if she had a boyfriend. After a few weeks of trying, they gave up. They realized that she wouldn't speak to anyone.

They had concernedly told some of the staff about her. They said she might want a shrink or an antidepressant or something. There was something wrong with her. But nothing could be done, because she refused to take any medicine and she refused to speak.

They kept a close eye on her. She was a mystery, and they were curious. She lay in bed, curled up in a ball, face turned away from searching eyes. Her thin, coarse blanket was wrapped around her at all times, even when she left the cell to eat, which was seldom. As weeks went by, they sometimes forgot she was there. That lump on the bed in the corner, that enigma meant nothing to them, because they didn't know her, and doubted they ever would. So they watched her remain silent and watched her slowly lose weight and watched her fade away. In more than four months, Katherine Ryan hadn't cracked a smile, hadn't shared her story, hadn't spoken a word to anyone.

So her roommates were surprised when they came back from lunch to see her sitting at the table, holding a newspaper in two shaking hands, and laughing.

The guard who was escorting them gave her a strange look, but continued on his way after he carefully locked the cell door.

There she was, sitting straight, her face with the first signs of emotion her roommates had ever seen… and it scared them. She was shaking severely, the newspaper quivering, and there were tears in her eyes. Her laughter was raucous and out of control. She was gasping for breath, but she still laughed.

They stood in front of her, afraid to say anything, or go near her. She turned to them, and her laughter died down. She still held an insane smile on her face. Slowly, she turned the paper so it faced them.

"I found this in a trash can in the hall." She said loudly, mirth in her raspy voice. "Apparently, they don't clean out the garbage very often." She looked at them, and they stared back. "Well, come on, look at it. It's funny."

Cautiously, Laura and Angel stepped forward, eyeing her as if she was insane. She probably was. She had an odd gleam in her eyes, and her mouth was still curled in that unkind smirk. Her cheeks were very flushed, no longer the unhealthy gray pallor that they had been all these weeks.

They leaned forward and looked at the paper. On the front page was the large headline "Castaways Presumed Dead are Rescued". Next to it was a picture of a thirty-ish man with short dark hair and a tattoo on his arm. He was smiling, but it was a fake, hollow smile. The caption read, "Jack Shepherd, a surgeon, may have saved several lives after the Oceanic 815 crashed."

She chuckled again, alarming her roommates. They involuntarily stepped backwards.

"Everyone who I ever cared about," she rasped, looking directly at them, "has either left me or died." She flung the paper across the room suddenly, as if she couldn't bear to touch it any longer. It hit the wall and fluttered to the cold linoleum floor. "Except for them. And he won't come and visit. I'll rot away in prison before any of them come." Her voice escalated angrily as she continued, but she still smiled.

"Why?" Laura asked timidly. It was whispered, it was afraid.

She stopped smiling abruptly. "I told him not to. I told Jack to tell everyone that I never wanted to see any of them again." She looked at them, searching for understanding. When they didn't reply, she said, "I didn't want them to see me like… like this." She spread her pencil-thin arms wide, gesturing her fallen state. "I'm pathetic! I'm weak and selfish and disgusting!" Her cheeks flushed even more. "I don't even recognize myself anymore! I used to be able to handle-" She suddenly coughed, a deep long cough that rattled against her protruding ribs. A flash of pain crossed her face. She stopped, and took a big, gasping breath. She sat in the middle of the room looking like a miserable child.

Finally, Laura reached out tentatively to comfort her. "Katherine…"

She pulled back jerkily. "Kate."

"Kate." She lightly touched Kate's shoulder, and this time she didn't flinch. "God," Laura breathed. "You're burning up!"

Kate ignored her. "I have lived a life that has just ruined everyone else's. I have made everyone who knows me wish they didn't." She looked shocked to say this out loud. Kate coughed again, and this one was worse. She doubled over, choking. When it finally subsided, she had tears dripping out of her eyes. "Why am I telling you this?" she said, suddenly agitated. "I don't know you. I don't know you! You don't give a damn!" Her shaking frame stood up, kicking the wooden chair out of the way. It tipped and crashed to the floor with a loud echoing boom.

She gave a final shudder and passed out cold on the floor.

She dreamed of when the cargo ship came upon their island. It was an accident, they had said, they had veered offcourse during a storm. Everyone was jubilant, all smiles and hugs and laughter. They had all piled onto the boat without a backward glance at the island. Well, not all of them. Shannon looked utterly miserable to leave. So did Hurley. And Kate… she had stood at the line where the beach ended and the forest began, and had seriously considered simply running into the forest, running as far as she could and staying where she was until they left. But anything would be better than that, right? Not so, she thought, even as she dreamed.

So she had gotten onto the boat, and once they reached California had climbed down the gangplank, seeing as she walked, a group of police officers and knowing there would be no escape. As they handcuffed her, Jack had come up to her side, with concern and even a bit of fear in his expression. Kate had turned a cold face to him.

"I don't ever want to see you again." She spat at him. "I don't want to see any of you ever. Keep out of my fucking life." She had spoken with such vehemence that she had thought Jack would have looked angry or hurt. But his face just closed. She realized that he had expected this from her, and the realization made her even more furious.

"Okay, Kate." Softly, resignedly. That was all he said. Then he looked at her a final time, melted back into the crowd, and she was towed away with everyone staring at her.

So often had she replayed this in her mind behind her closed eyes. She hated it, hated her life, hated herself. Kate had lost all hope and desire. What was the point of going outside if it was cold and artificial everywhere except in the dark under her blanket where no one could see her? What was the point of eating if it all tasted like ash in her mouth? What was the point of talking to all these women? They didn't understand her and she didn't understand them. The only thing they had in common was that they were all horrible people.

The first thing she noticed when she woke up was that she was hot. She felt very hot, ached all over and she was not in her jail cell bed. When she opened her eyes, everything was a blurred mess. Most of the blur was white. Was she in a hospital? She tried to remember the last thing that had happened. She was acting like a lunatic in the cell. She was screaming at her roommates. She knocked the chair over…

"Kate!"

Hearing her name, she jolted up, which she immediately felt sorry that she had done. Her head throbbed, and she was very dizzy. Her wrist scraped against metal and stung painfully… was she cuffed to the bed?

"Here, lay back down." Two strong hands gently pushed her back against the pillows. She blinked several times to clear her vision as well as her brain. She gave a weak gasp.

Jack was standing over her, his hands on her shoulders.

She didn't know what to feel. First she was surprised, and then her surprise turned to anger, then melted away to complete happiness.

"Jack." Was all she could manage to say, as she looked dazedly up at him.

He grinned. "Hi."

She was starting to feel cold again. She started shivering under her sheets. "I don't understand what's going on." She said pitifully, her voice still raspy from disuse.

"You're very sick." He told her seriously. "You almost died. Kate, you haven't been eating." He sounded very paternal and stern. It might have annoyed her before, but now she was just so pleased to hear his voice that she didn't mind.

But she suddenly felt very self-conscious about her thin body.

"I know." She felt a chill go through her body. "But why're you here?" She slurred, unable to speak clearly, especially through her suddenly chattering teeth.

"They're letting me stay with you for a while under the circumstances." Still under her confused stare, he continued. "Your roommate was able to get some help finding me." He paused. "I'm sorry."

She wasn't sure whether he was sorry for her being sick, or sorry he had gone against her wishes or sorry that he had come. She didn't have enough energy to ask.

She saw him look at her exhausted, fevered self, and she watched as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"You're cold?" He asked quietly.

She nodded.

Slowly, gently, he lay down next to her and wrapped his arms around her. Her head lay against his warm and protective chest, and her held her tightly. She closed her eyes.

"I missed you so much." She whispered.

And he held her for a long time, until her violent shivering subsided and she fell into a deep and untroubled sleep.