Crimson
Disclaimer: If you actually believe I would own Lost and then go write Fanfiction, please send me $30.
Summary: Kate meets the monster in the jungle, and only just survives – but now she's injured, alone, and Cerberus is very, very, mad.
Rating: I'll put it as Teen, because I don't think there'll be anything really explicit... though it could get dark. You've been warned.
A/N – This chapter was random. And basically me writing some stuff that I wish were true for the show. Okay, why did the last chapter only get one review? (Thanks JuliaThorne) And much fewer hits that usual? Please, readers, my attitude towards writing this story depends on you!
Chapter nine
Kate had retreated to the corner of her mind where she felt safest. It was as if she were underwater. Everything was quiet. There was still pain, unbearable pain, but it was muted. She wondered how long she would stay sane if she were to face the full brunt of it. How long would she be able to bear it before she ran again, to unconsciousness?
All she knew was that she'd left the water. Her throat ached, and her mouth tasted like blood. Her disgust had been diminished at the feel of something moving down her throat. Anything, so long as it was wet. Cool would be nice, but she wasn't feeling too picky.
Or maybe she was. Maybe all she wanted to do was imagine... the cool sweetness of fresh water. With ice. Hell, maybe even a cute little umbrella in the top. And if she could have that, why not something else, too? She thought about all the places she'd been in her life. They'd all had their appeal. Which one had she liked the most?
Because she wanted to be there, now. She thought of home, of Iowa. She could hear the cows calling insistently for their evening feed. The ducks on the lake complaining about how cold it was getting. There was the chickens scratching around, looking for any scraps of food or insects they had missed last time they had circled around this part of the house.
There was a single horse on their farm, and it wasn't even theirs. It was a black mare, and she ran whenever anyone approached. She messed up the ground and destroyed the trees, but Kate's mother had long since expected some wild stallion to come and entice her away from their not-too-big property, and so had never bothered to try and get rid of her. Kate loved to catch glimpses of her as she ran, mane and tail flying.
Then a gunshot.
The little girl, nearing her thirteenth birthday and oh-so-excited at the thought of becoming a teenager, had started. The present Kate, the one dying in a far off place that could never, ever, feel anything like 'home' to her, winced at the sound. She knew what it meant. What it was. She wanted to wake up, and struck out, hoping to find her life back how it had been.
But as she rose away from the dream, towards consciousness, she felt the pain. Everywhere now. There wasn't a single spot that didn't sting or burn or scream or beg for deliverance.
She hesitated, not wanting to go back into the beautiful dream that had so suddenly changed into a nightmare, but not wanting to face the real world. Then the choice was taken away from her, and she was sinking.
Ma's new boyfriend. A drunk cowboy who loved to wave his gun and take pot shots at the possums.
Who had seen what that rogue mare was doing to the farm and taken matters into his own hands. He was nowhere near the horse. But close enough to aim and fire.
Kate hadn't even seen him, watching coldly from the ridge. She'd been intent on watching the horse, watching the beautiful black mare (the one she thought of as 'Midnight') run free.
A gunshot. The mare kept running – and then one leg folded. She had fallen, and hit the ground dead. Kate's scream of protest had lasted beyond the echo of the shot.
That was enough, adult Kate thought. No point in going back there. No way she would think about the things that had happened after that. The things that had slowly led her...
Here.
Here to a burning pain and a raging thirst, a blissful sensation of dying and a desperation to live. For a moment, she imagined the water once more. How beautiful it would be. I want to die, she thought. She'd never thought that before, but now she meant it. She could escape, one last time. I could die now, but I want some water first.
And then it came. Drops of cool moisture. She was lying on her back, she realised. It didn't seem odd for a few moments until she remembered she had last felt herself on her stomach. Weeping over her own stupidity.
She didn't question it, because then there was water, slick, wet water coming easily down her throat. She was so desperate, she wasn't even aware of swallowing. She wondered if it was a dream – a beautiful pain induced hallucination. If it was, she didn't want it to stop. The water kept coming.
And then it stopped. It took her a moment to realise this, but once she did, she tried to sit up, to find it again. The movement set off the pain, and within seconds, she was unconscious again.
