Here it is. Pay close attention, because a few things in here are going to come up again in later (much later) chapters, and I'm giving points to whoever can guess right first. Next time we delve into the mind of 19-year-old Ian, who hero-worships Sawyer and who we know very little about. He's going to become an important character, too. As far as I can tell, he's going to become the relationship go-to guy. Hehe. The title of the chapter is from Mandy Moore, whom I personally don't like all that much, but whose songs I still love.

Chapter Four-Cry

Kate woke to something shining in her eyes, and sat up with a start, staring in confusion at the things around her.

Vaguely, she remembered the fight with Jack and her hurried departure from the caves.

She glanced around, realizing that it had been the glare from a mirror, the reflection of the sun, that had woken her, and she took in the fact that she was in Sawyer's old tent. She wondered if her carte blanche still applied, and then decided to use Sawyer's absence to her advantage, beginning to rummage through the bags he'd left behind.

She found a hairbrush and about 20 bags of unopened peanuts, throwing them both into the already packed bag of clothes she held. A smile lit her face at the next, smaller bag, and unthinking, she threw the entire bag into the pile of things to take with her. It wasn't entirely full and she imagined that he'd left it because he didn't need it any longer, or because he expected to be back soon to come and get it.

Opening her own bag, she pulled the water bottles out and stuffed them into Sawyers bag, pulling out a shirt to cover them, maybe keep them semi-cool.

She pulled the shirt close to her face, inadvertently inhaling his cologne and absolutely Sawyer scent, hugging the shirt close to her. She thought about setting it back in the bag, but glanced out to where the sun was already beating down o the beach, and resolved to wear it instead, if only to keep herself from burning. She promised herself that it had nothing to do with the way the shirt reminded her of Sawyer's playful spirit, or his intense gaze, and most especially not the way his lips had felt against hers. And it also had nothing to do with Jack, who would have a heart attack if he knew the thoughts that sprang from wearing this shirt.

Nothing to do with either of them, she told herself, forcefully.

Yeah.

Right.

"Tom!"

Her voice came in a harsh whisper, as her eyes darted around the field, and she crept toward the trunk of the oak tree she'd climbed more times that she could count.

"Tom, this isn't funny! Come out!"

She was met with silence, and she continued to move, slowly, toward the tree.

"Tom, this isn't funny! Come out!"

She was met with silence, and she continued to move, slowly, toward the tree.

"Thomas Brendon! I swear to you, when I find you I'm going to--!"

Arms closed around her as a voice behind her roared, and she shrieked and kicked backwards.

When she turned, it was to find Tom lying on the ground, his legs curled up as he clutched his stomach, laughing hysterically.

"Tom! That wasn't funny!"

Sobering, he smiled up at her. "You're right. It wasn't funny at all. I apologize. I mean, that was extremely wrong of me, and I will never, ever do it again."

"Get up, you jerk."

"What, so you can kick me again? Katie, Katie, I'm smarter than that. Get up? I think not."

"I could kick you as you are, but I'm not doing that, am I?"

"Because that wouldn't be a challenge for you."

"Just get up. It's about to start."

Walking gave her time to think things through, but not only that, it gave her the feeling that she could have her own thoughts, and not be bombarded my "Dude"s or "Kate"s and though she enjoyed the company of those few who still trusted her, it was nice, for once, to hear her own thoughts.

It was during these times of ultimate peace, and only during these times, that she thought, consciously, about her relationships. It had always been that way, even off the island, away from Jack and Sawyer (and Sayid, she reminded herself, who she'd also considered a man rather than a person, at first) and she imagined that would never change.

It was easy enough to say that she was angry with Jack. She was. But she'd taken hits before. She'd had people call her 'criminal' and 'murderer'. She'd been tagged a fugitive, and an outcast.

And it didn't make sense that that jab from Jack had hurt her more than anything else could.

Maybe it was that the words had come from Jack. That it had obviously been on his mind and that he'd thought of her in those terms.

It would be a lie to say she didn't feel something for Jack. The lie would be to say she knew what that something was. She couldn't write it off as mere attraction, but it wasn't quite love either. Unfortunately, there was no word for the middle, the in-between of those two.

She trusted Jack, and probably that was what hurt the most. That he didn't know if he could trust her hurt. He'd acted as if all she was was that criminal, of whose past he knew nothing about. He'd acted like…like he did with Sawyer.

Sawyer. She honestly didn't know what to think of him. She didn't trust him any further than she could throw him, and he trusted her less than that. But there was something there, something that drew her to him like a moth to the flame.

Inwardly, she chuckled; for what better comparison to Sawyer than flame? Burning hot, volatile, ever changing, spreading quickly, but sometimes just burning itself into nothingness.

Sawyer was flame.

There was a connection there neither one could explain. There was attraction, lust they had in spades. But for some odd reason, she found herself worrying for his safety and well being. And despite everything, despite all his rude comments, the nasty things he'd done—the way he'd let everyone know who she really was—she'd wanted to say goodbye to him. Even though she was terrible with goodbyes—most times refusing to do them altogether—she'd wanted—needed—to say goodbye to him.

She'd never gotten the chance, and she doubted she ever would.

If they were rescued, then she'd be taken into American custody and she'd never see Sawyer again.

If they weren't rescued, then the raft hadn't worked, and Jin, Michael, Walt, and Sawyer would die—either of heat stroke, or starvation—or, more ominously, something else had killed them.

The thought alone made her stomach drop, and a dry heave had her stooping, bent over and choking on her own spittle, of which she knew was not for Walt, Michael, or Jin.

Recovering quickly, she moved on, refusing to think that the raft hadn't worked. It had been two weeks, so either the rescuers were unable to find the island, or her worst fears had come true.

Until there was proof, she refused to believe it.

When shade on the beach was made virtually impossible, she made her way into the forest for food, and along the way she found a stream that seemed to follow the contour of the beach. Lunch she ate under the canopy of the trees, then she continued on until dusk, when she stopped for the night, camping out on the beach, halfway between the high tide line and the trees. She watched the stars sparkling in the night sky, until at last, Morpheus claimed her for the night.

Leaning against the hay bails in Tom's truck bad, Kate nestled her head in between Tom's shoulder and neck, an arm thrown carelessly around his stomach.

Inside the truck, The Bangles were drifting softly from the radio, but Kate tuned it out, instead staring up into the night sky.

As one of the brighter ones twinkled in her peripheral vision, something bright flew across the sky in front of them. Kate gave a girlish squeal of delight, cuddling closer to Tom. His arm tightened around her waist.

It was a while later when he spoke. "Katie…what are you going to do when the summer's over?"

"Tom, don't."

"Why not? You aren't going to college, you haven't made any plans…what's going to happen? To you? To us?"

"Tom, please."

He sat up then, his arms releasing her, and she sat as well, curling her arms around her knees.

"Why won't you even tell me?"

Haunted eyes stared back at him. "I can't. I…I just can't"

"Kate! Come on!"

"Tom, listen! You've got it a million times better than I ever will! You're going to college on a full ride to become a doctor, and even if you didn't have the full ride, your parents could pay for it! You've got a family, and a home here! I've got nothing!"

"You have ME!"

She closed her eyes, and was still for a long time. When she looked back up at him, there were tears in her eyes. "I know. I know, Tom."

Crawling over straw, he took her in his arms and held her, and her sobs continued. When they finally ebbed, the sky was blank again. He kissed the crown of her hair, then her eyes, her nose, and finally, her lips. He sighed, an Kate stared up at him.

In the end, he let her go, knowing that he'd probably never hold her like that again, and stared into her eyes. "Just promise me you'll say goodbye."

After an eternity, she nodded. "Okay. But I'm not so great at goodbyes."

He laughed softly. "Anything will do."

As they rode home, her hand resting in his, Kate turned to look at him.

"Tom?"

"Mmm?" He kept his eyes on the rode, but she could tell he was listening closely.

"I love you."

He seemed to cherish the words, as if he was cataloguing them in memory. "I love you too, Kate."

So…how was it?