Disclaimer: I do not own Lost or the characters in it.
Summary: A snippet about Kate and Sawyer, and a nightly ritual that they share.
Repentance
She did it every night. She would wait until everyone was sound asleep, then she would crawl from her shelter on the beach. She always looked out into the ocean first, almost like she was hoping to see something, or not see anything. He was never really sure.
Then she would turn and walk into the jungle. She would climb over fallen trees and make her way through the foliage until she reached a clearing, her destination. She would sit on the rock which she had come to call her own, and pull the tiny plastic airplane from her bag. She would stare at it for hours on end. Sometimes she would even cry, but not often. Most of the time she would just sit and stare at the toy.
Then, when she was done with whatever it was she'd gone all the way out there to do, she would make her way back to the beach and lie down to sleep.
And this was the routine every night. And he would wait for it to happen every night. As soon as she disappeared into the jungle he would creep out of his shelter and follow her. She never knew he was there, he made sure of that. Justas she had her rock to sit on, he had his tree to hide behind. And it went like this every night, like clock work.
He would watch her recount her sins, one by one, all the while recounting his own. He would look out for the monster or any other harmful being that might decide to cross paths with her. Hell if he was gonna let her die. Didn't what she'd done, she didn't deserve to become the monsters dinner.
But he did.
And so maybe, just maybe, he could protect her and punish himself at the same time. At least that's how he hoped it would be, every night, until he suffered the penance that he deserved.
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She needed a moment of peace. That was why she went into the jungle at night. She needed to be punished for her sins, and what better way then to be eaten by a monster. This journey into the woods was her way of tempting fate. She would wait for the moment when nature would have the courage to do what she could not.
And time after time, she would be left without her restitution. Time after time, she would be left holding that tiny airplane in her hands and swallowing back her disappointment.
But she would never be left alone. Not as long as her silent protector was around.
She'd go into the jungle and wait, wait for those footsteps to thump along the sand behind her. And when she heard them she would know that she was not alone in the world. She would sit and wait for her punishment, all the while knowing that he would never let her accept it. Sometimes she would be tempted to turn around and tell him to leave her be, to let her suffer as she should. And she would have, that is if their little arrangement was not as beneficial to him as it was to her.
And it was.
Because he was waiting for his punishment too. And if he could protect her in the process then at least he would have gone out protecting the woman he loved.
And by the next morning, the usual sparring would occur. And they could pretend that they didn't know each others secrets. Because neither was ready to show their sins to the world. The nightly ritual was their cloak against those who could not understand. And for the criminal and outlaw, it would be the closest they would get to salvation.