Guys, please don't worry about Casey too much - she'll be gone before you know it. And she is there for a reason, I promise. I don't just make this stuff up as I go along... I can't just write Kate and Sawyer, with nobody else, 100 of the time. I would very quickly run out of material and lose my mind from boredom. As much as they mean to each other, they don't exist in a bubble. Hopefully, Casey won't be quite as annoying in this installment. ;)


Chapter Seven

The motel they arrived at later in the evening was an almost exact replica of the one from a few nights earlier, except that, for some ungodly reason, it was painted pink. They tried to get two adjoining rooms, but to Sawyer's irritation, none were available. Instead, they were forced to settle for one room with two beds.

When they'd lugged their bags up to the second floor and pushed the door open, Sawyer immediately fell onto one of the beds and stretched out, contorting his face in pain and groaning as he tried to relax his sore muscles. Kate sat down at his side, looking down at him sympathetically. "Isn't it crazy how just sitting in one place all day can make you this exhausted?"

"You sure you don't just wanna hike up there?" he asked with his eyes closed.

She smiled at him, laying her hand on his shoulder. She was on the verge of saying something else when she noticed Casey standing in the doorway, hesitantly. For a second, she'd forgotten about her.

"You coming in?"

Casey bit her lip. "Do you want me to, um... wander around for awhile out there? You know, to give you guys some privacy? How much time do you need... Like, say, ten minutes?"

Sawyer opened his eyes. "Ten minutes?" he said incredulously. "You think that's all it's gonna take?"

Casey looked thoughtful. "Fifteen?"

Sawyer looked at Kate, exasperated. She tried not to laugh. "Actually, I think it would be better if you just stayed in the room with us for now."

Casey looked mildly surprised by this, and a little nervous. She began tentatively. "Oh... okay. But, um.. I should warn you. I've never really... done that before?" Her voice tilted upward questioningly.

Kate was confused. "Done what?"

Casey seemed uncomfortable. "A three-way," she whispered.

Sawyer looked at her in shock.

"A what?" Kate demanded. "Oh, my God... That's... that's not what I meant," she stammered, trying to stay calm, making a face of disgust. "At all. I only meant that, we've all had a long day, and that we should probably just turn in early, and get some sleep."

"Oh," Casey said, embarrassed now. "Okay. Good idea." She paused. "You have anything I can wear?"

Still bewildered, it took Kate a few seconds to respond. "Hold on." She sighed and started going through a duffel bag. Pulling out a few things, she tossed them to the girl. Casey muttered a "thanks" and disappeared into the bathroom.

Kate and Sawyer stared at each other.

"I say tomorrow, we just start drivin' back in the same direction and dump her off at her own goddamn house," Sawyer said quietly.

Kate rolled her eyes. "Don't you think she would catch on? She's a teenager, Sawyer, she's not retarded. She'll notice if we go back the same way we came."

"Then I suggest you start wrackin' your brains for ideas, because I sure as hell know that I'm not gonna be able to put up with this much longer."

"I know," Kate said, breathing out deeply. "I'll think of something." She leaned against the backboard of the bed, wearily.

A few seconds later, Casey came back out.

"Does it fit?" Kate asked, not really caring but feeling the need to say something.

"It's all right," she responded. She looked down critically. "It's a little small in the chest area."

Kate glanced away with a wry look. "Once again, thank you for mentioning that."

Sawyer looked defensive. "Hell, Freckles, the way I figure, it's just like the three bears," he said in a falsely casual tone, casting a withering glance at Casey. "And that blonde chick who ate their damn soup."

Kate looked at him like he was insane. "What?"

"Don't you remember the moral of that story? It's better to have just the right amount of somethin', than too little or too much." He grinned at her supportively.

She finally caught on to what he was getting at. "I think it was porridge. But thanks." She smiled back, appreciative. She wanted badly to kiss him, but it just felt so strange with someone else in the room.

"You care if I watch TV?" Casey asked, sounding bored. Or maybe she was just tired, or sad - it was hard to tell.

"Go for it," Sawyer muttered.

She pulled back the bedspread and climbed between the sheets, idly flipping through the channels for a while. She finally settled on something, and all three of them stared at it listlessly, without any real interest.

Within a remarkably short period of time, Casey was asleep. The remote slipped from her hand. Kate stood up and took it, carefully, then turned the TV back off. She looked at Sawyer. "Well?" she said in a quiet voice. "I guess we should try to sleep, too."

"Yeah," he said, regretfully, as if that wasn't at all what he wanted to do.

Sawyer undressed to his boxers and Kate changed into a tank top and cotton shorts. They got into bed, and Kate flipped off the lamp on the table, plunging them into blackness.

They lay there, on their sides, facing one another but not touching. After a few seconds, their eyes adjusted so that they could each make out the faint outlines of the other's body, but not much more. They listened to one another breathe. Kate could feel the heat radiating from Sawyer's body, from the solid, reassuring mass of him there next to her. Her hands ached to reach out and touch his bare chest, his shoulders, his midsection... but she restrained herself.

Sawyer, by concentrating, could actually detect the intoxicating scent of her skin and her hair. It was faint, but unmistakable. And his willpower was less well-developed than hers. Reaching out slowly, his hand under the covers, he ran his fingers lightly from the side of her leg up to the slight dip of her waist. He could feel her tense up in response, but she removed his hand before it could continue on its journey and pushed it back toward him.

"Sawyer," she whispered warningly. "Don't. We can't."

They continued to lie there, an excruciating tension between them. Neither could relax. Kate shifted restlessly. Sawyer felt like punching something. In his mind, this was comparable to trekking through a burning desert, being presented with a glass of cold water, and then told to look at it, but not to drink it. It was torture. It was like the world's most sadistic sleepover.

He suddenly drew in his breath as he felt Kate's knee pressing against his groin, lightly but firmly, then she just as quickly withdrew. "Sorry," she said. "It slipped." In the dim light, he could just make out the glitter of mischief in her eyes.

A slow, wicked smile spread across his face. He watched her intently, their heads just inches away from each other on the pillows.

"Good night, sassafras," he said in a low drawl.

"Night," she responded, still smiling.

They both closed their eyes. The blanket continued to rise and fall with their quick breathing. Their muscles remained tense, their bodies rigid in the same positions, each feeling the invisible, almost magnetic waves that seemed to radiate from the other.

After about two minutes of this agony, Kate sat up and flung the bedspread back. She grabbed Sawyer's arm and pulled him after her. He rose willingly, not resisting. They made their way soundlessly across the room, carefully passing the other bed.

In the bathroom, he pressed her up against the door as soon as it was closed. They kissed with such force that it was hard to breathe. The only sound was the hissing intake of air through their noses. There was a tiny nightlight here that illuminated the room with a dim, orange glow, something like the last embers of a campfire.

Within seconds, Sawyer lifted her up onto the counter next to the sink, without breaking their kiss. They managed to remove each others' clothing with swift, practiced motions. Kate didn't bother with her tank top. There wasn't time for that. Sawyer ran his hands up underneath it, and then around to her back as she rocked against him. They moved in frantic, jerky motions, panting loudly but making every effort not to cry out. Because of their inadvertent preparation in bed, it didn't take long to get the job done. She arched against him and then bit his shoulder to keep from making any noise. He shuddered and buried his head in her hair, his legs almost refusing to support him for a second. They collapsed against each other, breathing hard, feeling shaky and spent.

After a few seconds, Kate lifted her head. "I think we might have just set a record time, there," she said softly, sounding a little sheepish now that the heat of the moment had passed.

"Sorry 'bout that," Sawyer muttered.

"Don't be," she assured him. "It was..." she stopped, not knowing how to continue. "I mean, it was really..."

He watched her, amused. Then he decided to have a little fun with her. "Hell, sweetheart, I'm not sure there's a word for what that was." He watched her closely. "Or at least, there's not a word that would do it justice."

He noticed the incremental change in her expression as she recognized, with shock, her own words from the park earlier. Even in the faint glow of the nightlight, he could see the color rise to her cheeks. Damn, he loved making her blush.

She leaned back a little further to regard him, trying to detect if he was really messing with her, or if she was only imagining it. The sly look on his face told her all she needed to know. She closed her eyes, a slight, ironic smile touching the corners of her mouth. "You know," she began slowly. "Eavesdropping is a very unattractive quality."

"Not gonna argue with that," he agreed. "But with all the unattractive qualities I got, is that really the one you oughtta be worried about?"

She laughed a little. "Good point."

Then she looked at him with a softened expression, pausing for a few seconds. She brushed back a sweaty strand of hair that was always hanging into his eyes. "So you heard all that, huh?"

Now he looked down, almost shyly. "Nah," he said, pretending there was something fascinating about her knee, not meeting her eyes. "Just a little. Wasn't really payin' that much attention."

She considered messing with him for payback, embarrassing him the same way he'd just done to her. But for one reason or another, she couldn't do it.

Instead, she leaned over against him again. His cheek was rough and sandpapery against hers, the way she liked him to keep it. "Well, whatever you heard..." she began. Putting her mouth almost against his ear, she whispered so softly that it was barely audible, "I meant it."

He remained still for a moment, then he brought his arms back up around her. She leaned against his shoulder for a bit. Finally, without saying anything else, they kissed each other deeply, got dressed again, and then silently made their way back across the room to the bed.

This time, they had no trouble falling asleep.


When Kate woke up later in the night, she was conscious of a distinct chill in the room. A cold breeze came from the opposite side of the bed. Sitting up, trying to clear her head enough to figure out what was wrong, she could see that the door was open a crack, as if it hadn't been shut properly. She glanced over to see if the cold had awakened Casey, but to her surprise, the bed was empty.

"Hey," she said, nudging Sawyer. There was no response, so she shoved him harder. "Sawyer!"

"What?" he groaned.

"She's gone."

"Great. Break out the champagne," he mumbled into his pillow, without opening his eyes.

Sighing, Kate pulled her jeans back on, then her sweater and jacket.

"What the hell are you doin'?" he asked, finally opening his eyes to squint at her, confused.

"I'm going to look for her."

"Why?" he demanded, truly bewildered. "Isn't this exactly what we been waitin' for?"

She zipped up her jacket, not answering at first. She paused. "I don't know why," she told him truthfully. "Just go back to sleep."

Before he could say anything else, she'd slipped out the door and pulled it shut behind her.

She could see immediately that she wouldn't have to look far. There was the figure of a girl draped over the balcony, down at the far end, at the corner of the rows of rooms. She stared down into the empty swimming pool, sadly. As Kate neared her, she noticed something in her hands. It flashed and glinted in the light from the street lamp.

"That's a nice knife," Kate said casually as she approached, not wanting to alarm her.

Casey turned her head slightly, as if she wasn't really surprised to see her.

"My grandpa gave it to me. Before he died," she explained.

Kate could see, as she reached the iron railing, that this was not the same girl she'd been interacting with all day. In the flourescent light, Casey was pale and haggard. All the spark was gone from her expression, as if she'd been playing a part that she was glad to leave behind on the stage. Her eyes looked older than seventeen.

"He must have trusted you a lot, to give you such a dangerous weapon."

"I guess he thought I might need it," Casey said simply.

"Have you ever needed it?" Kate asked.

Casey shrugged, but she didn't say anything.

Kate decided to try another tactic. "Were you having trouble sleeping?"

"I'm used to getting up early. I have to milk cows. Or, I mean, I did... Before I left," she corrected herself. She looked at Kate curiously. "Have you ever milked a cow?"

Kate looked a little wistful. "Believe it or not, I have."

"Figures," Casey said with a hint of contempt.

Kate had no idea what this comment was supposed to mean, so she let it pass.

"So... you want to tell me why you're running away?"

"I already told you... I'm a criminal, like you. I'm wanted by the law." The earnest way she emphasized the last four words would have been almost cute, if it hadn't been so serious.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot," Kate said, trying to hide a smile.

They sat in silence for a minute. Casey still held the knife, turning it slowly in her hands, as if it gave her some sort of comfort.

Kate's next words were spoken in a soft voice. She watched the girl closely. "I forgot to tell you... I met your stepdad this morning."

Casey gave a small, startled jolt. The knife slipped and nicked the tip of her index finger, and she pulled her hand away with a sharp gasp of irritation.

Concerned, Kate grabbed her hand to examine the cut, but Casey pulled it back away from her, annoyed. "It's fine," she insisted. "It's the size of a papercut." She pulled a crumpled tissue out of her pocket and wrapped it around the finger, then folded the knife up and put it away. She still seemed visibly shaken.

Kate felt a wave of sadness wash over her, with a healthy dose of anger mixed in. She also felt completely helpless. It was like having a dream where you keep repeating the same action over and over and over again, but without ever seeming to get anywhere. The outcome is the same every time. She knew the weight of the troubles that would keep drifting down over Casey until they smothered her. Even though tonight they were relatively new, she could see how they would pile up over the years until this present moment, at the bottom of the heap, would be lost to view.

"What did he do to you?" she whispered. She sounded tired.

Casey shot her a glance filled with hatred. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Kate refused to lower her gaze. "Did he hurt you?"

Casey swallowed hard. Her face threatened to crumple, but she rallied and collected herself, enough to say bitterly, "I'm not gonna talk about this with you, so you can forget it. Who do you think you are, like, my guidance counselor?"

"No," Kate said, beginning to be annoyed. "But I wish to God he was here."

"It's a she," Casey said. "Mrs. Emerson. And she thinks I'm a whore, so I doubt she'd have much sympathy."

Kate sighed, closing her eyes against another chill gust of wind. "Have you told your mom?"

"Yeah, right," Casey replied with defensive sarcasm. "You think there's a chance in hell she would actually believe me? She's the one who married the disgusting bastard, remember? She worships the ground he walks on! I mean, can you imagine? Actually being married to that... that...thing?" She stopped here, apparently fighting tears. "It doesn't matter. I'll never see her again, so it doesn't matter."

Kate was quiet for a minute. She looked down at the pool. "My mom died a few years ago," she said softly. "Cancer."

Casey looked over at her, confused, apparently unsure of what to say.

"She was pretty far gone the last time I saw her," Kate went on, like she was talking to herself. "But she recognized me. She recognized me enough... to call for help." She paused, looking into the past, tormented. "She died thinking that I was this horrible person... this monster. My own mother," she went on, in a disbelieving voice. "I guess maybe the illness might have had something to do with it... or even all the medication she was on. But I'll never know for sure. All I know is that she was terrified of me."

"Why?" Casey asked, intrigued.

Kate smiled bitterly. "That's a much longer story than you want to hear. Believe me." She took a deep breath, trying to bring herself back to the present. "There are... a lot of things about my past that I would change if I could. If I could go back, and do everything over again. But I think maybe one of the most important ones... would be to tell my mom the truth. The truth about everything that happened, about why I did what I did, who I really was... everything. I tried, but maybe I didn't try hard enough."

Casey looked away, in thought.

Kate stared at her. "You need to tell your mom," she said. "Please. If she doesn't believe you... Then at least you'll know, right? You won't always have to wonder about what might have happened. About how differently things might have turned out."

Instead of answering, Casey sighed deeply. After a while, she said in a dull voice, "You guys aren't gonna let me come with you, are you?"

Kate took a second to respond. "The place we're going to... You don't want to go there. Trust me. We don't even want to go there. But we don't have any choice."

"That's what I thought," she said sadly.

"Besides," Kate went on. "You wouldn't want to be around us for long. We're selfish, and violent, and manipulative... We're the last people in the world who should have anything to do with taking care of another person." She said these words bitterly, with an added sense of their irony, in light of what the coming months most likely held in store.

"You're nice to each other," Casey said, in argument.

"You obviously haven't been around us that long," Kate said with a slight smile.

"Bickering doesn't count," she replied, refusing to be swayed. "That guy would commit murder for you, and you know it."

"Please don't say that," Kate said, disturbed. She knew how unnervingly true the words were.

"Must be nice," Casey said quietly. "To have somebody you can tell everything to. Somebody who actually cares about you and believes everything you say."

"You'll find somebody like that," Kate told her. "I'm sure of it."

"Will I have to be in a plane crash first?" Casey asked, with a hint of flippancy.

"Funny," Kate told her, smiling. She was relieved that the girl seemed to be back to her smart-ass self, at least temporarily.

They sat without speaking for a few more minutes.

Finally, Casey took a deep breath. "Just do me a favor, okay? When you decide to ditch me, at least let me know first. Don't just take off when I'm not looking, or something."

"I wouldn't do that to you," Kate said.

"Okay," Casey said. "Good." She seemed to believe her, wholeheartedly. For some reason, it scared Kate to see someone put so much faith in her words.

Noticing that her fingers felt like ice, she let go of the railing. "Why don't you come back inside, and get some more sleep before we hit the road again," she suggested.

"That's okay," Casey said. "I think I'll just stay here. I like to watch the sun come up." Then she glanced over at Kate, almost embarrassed. "But don't tell anybody I said that."

She smiled. "I won't."

Kate headed back down the second floor balcony, past all the other rooms, still darkened and with drawn curtains. Before she pushed open their own door, she looked back down at the girl leaning forlornly against the railing. Instead of feeling helpless, she felt the beginnings of a nervous, anticipatory hopefulness. Was it possible the kid had actually listened to her? Would she really consider talking to her mother? She didn't know if she'd said too much, or maybe not enough. If only she could find the happy median... the words that would actually fit. The stupid three bears again, she thought wryly, remembering Sawyer's allusion earlier.

Giving it up for the night, she went back into the room. She stumbled in the darkness, got undressed again, and then climbed back into the bed. She was numb with cold, so she got as close to Sawyer as she could, with the aim of stealing some of his body heat.

"You find her?" he asked clearly, in a wide-awake voice. She was surprised that he wasn't asleep.

"Yeah," she whispered. "She's right outside."

There was a pause. "She okay?" She could detect a faint trace of concern in his tone, although he did a good job of hiding it.

She considered, for some reason overcome by the fact that he had even asked. In an effort to be candid, she responded with a degree of doubt.

"She might be. Eventually."

Apparently satisfied with this answer, he didn't inquire further.

"You're freezing," he said, as if he were just stating a fact.

Kate rested her head on his chest, now understanding, with a mixture of pride and guilt, why Casey had sounded jealous earlier. Sawyer pulled the covers tighter around both of them.