Sandra: You asked how long Kate had been staying with Sawyer... I didn't have a specific date for when she arrived, but I've been working under a timeline that places it sometime in early September, when it was still hot and summery. Currently, they're at the second of November. So, she's been there for about 2 months. (But since I've been writing this since mid-May, it feels like MUCH longer. Lol.)

I should repeat that there probably won't be any updates next week - I've got the chance to go on a little mini-vacation, and with Lost-forum down it seems like a good opportunity. The next (and last!) two updates will be on the 22nd and 25th of August, most likely...possibly a little sooner. Thank you so much for sticking with me this far! I hope the wind-down will be worth it, because I've only just started writing it, and it's already making me teary-eyed.


Chapter Thirty-Eight

Sawyer shut the engine off and grabbed the small bag, the one next to him on the seat. The back of the truck was filled with larger paper sacks, but he decided to leave them there for the time being. He still couldn't believe she'd made him shop for groceries after that announcement. How the hell was he supposed to pick out laundry detergent or choose between different brands of spaghetti sauce when there was a goddamn pregnancy test waiting out in the truck? Kate had reasoned that it would be silly to make two trips, and he'd still been too stunned and bewildered to argue with her. She had obviously been living with this growing knowledge for a few weeks now, but for him, it still echoed and reverberated like a giant clap of thunder in his mind.

His first instinct, not surprisingly, had been one of panic. It was like a switch had been flipped, and red, blinking warning lights had flashed on, signaling in giant letters, "RUN!" But once the initial shock had worn off, and he'd seen how scared and miserable and apologetic she looked, other impulses had taken over. They hadn't said much on the walk back to the house, but he'd kept his arm around her. Before he'd left, they'd given each other a silent, prolonged hug, like two drowning victims clinging to each other despite the fact that it will only make them sink faster.

But during the trip and on the way home, a funny thing had happened. The longer he had to adjust to the idea, the more he began to accept it as something natural, even normal. It was still terrifying as hell, and he of course wasn't allowing himself to picture anything concretely - there were no mental images, certainly no imaginings of the future. It was simply that the concept itself started to seem less foreign. The notion that something tangible would link them together... There was something oddly fitting in that, even though he was trying his best to keep his mind away from specifics. As he climbed out of the truck and walked into the house with the bag, he experienced a nervous anticipation that couldn't exactly be labeled dread.

It became immediately clear, however, that Kate was experiencing nothing but dread. She stood wiping the counter with a sponge, making one circle over and over again, and she didn't immediately glance up when he stepped through the door. Her expression was far-off and sad, and her eyes seemed to look through the counter top rather than at it. Her shoulders were tense and she let her hair hang down over her face, not even bothering to brush it back. She'd obviously been doing some thinking too. Only her thoughts seemed to have led her in a completely different direction.

Finally, she looked over, registering his presence. She offered a wan, unconvincing smile. He held up the bag, showing her. "This what you ordered?" The smile disappeared and she paused for a second, then stepped forward to take it. He watched her carefully as she pulled it out and examined the label.

Shaking her head slightly, she muttered, "You had to get the cheap kind, didn't you?"

Annoyed that she'd noticed, he asked, "What difference does it make?"

"It just... takes longer. We'll have to wait ten minutes. With the other kind, it's instantaneous." She looked up quickly, feeling bad. "It doesn't matter though... It's fine. I mean, what's ten more minutes, right? I think we can handle it."

She dug an egg timer out of a drawer near the refrigerator. He'd never seen it before in his life.

"You're gonna do it now?" he asked, suddenly wanting to put this off a little longer.

"Why wait?" she said, looking confused.

He didn't have an answer for that. They stared at each other for a few more seconds, then Kate whispered, "Come on."

As he followed her up the stairs, he asked, "How long have you known?"

"I don't know anything," she said sharply, glancing back at him.

"All right, suspected then," he revised himself.

She sighed, going into his bedroom instead of immediately into the bathroom. "I don't know... I've been avoiding thinking about it for so long, that I can't even remember when I started to worry. A few weeks, I guess."

"A few weeks?" he echoed, shocked. "Why the hell didn't you say anything?"

"When?" she asked, almost laughing. "When you were digging metal out of my arm with a kitchen knife? When Jack was sleeping in the next room? Or how about when we were dumping the body in the lake?"

"There were other chances," he said with scorn.

She waited a second, looking away. "I know," she said softly. "But like I said, I haven't really even admitted it to myself until today. You have no idea how good I am at denial. It's funny... out of all the problems I predicted us running into, this wasn't one of them. I never even considered..." She stopped. "We should have been more careful."

"How? I been spendin' a fortune on condoms, haven't I?"

"That's not good enough." She smiled a little. "Especially not when you do it five times a day. And quit looking so proud," she said in response to his expression, rolling her eyes.

He tried his best to keep a serious demeanor.

"At least I have birth control pills now... if it's not already too late, that is."

"From where?" he asked, confused.

She acted like she didn't want to say. "From Jack," she finally answered, not meeting his eyes. "He gave me some when he was here."

"He what!" Sawyer looked around in distress.

"He was trying to do something nice, Sawyer. He knew I wouldn't have any other way to get any," she explained patiently.

"That son-of-a..." he muttered, interrupting himself. "I know exactly what he was tryin' to do... he was just makin' sure you wouldn't get knocked up by me! Tryin' to make sure there's not any chance we might somehow breed."

Kate sighed heavily. "And this is exactly why I didn't tell you sooner."

He shook his head, disgusted. "Unbelievable." Looking over at her, he said, "You know, I coulda got you those pills if you'd wanted 'em. All you had to do was ask."

"How would you have managed that? It's not really the kind of thing you can buy on the black market, or scam somebody out of." She seemed to think this was funny.

"I woulda found a way," he said bitterly.

"Well, he must have assumed you hadn't already, or he wouldn't have written the prescription."

A sly gleam appeared in Sawyer's eyes, and his lips turned up at the corners slightly. "Hell, assuming didn't have nothin' to do with it, Freckles. He knew you didn't have any."

"What makes you think that?" she asked, not understanding. Then, looking worried, she demanded, "Did you tell him?"

His smile grew a little bigger, but he remained irritatingly secretive. "I didn't him tell him anything... you did."

Kate was mystified. "What are you talking about?"

"Forget it," Sawyer said, looking away, knowing she wouldn't forget it.

"No! Tell me what you meant by that." She waited, her arms crossed in front of her, momentarily forgetting what they'd come up here to do.

"You wouldn't want to know, trust me."

"Sawyer," she said threateningly.

"All right, but don't say I didn't warn ya." He looked at her. "When you were driftin' off after the shots, you sent me after some condoms and told me that I never get enough, since apparently the supply just can't keep up with the demand." He gave her a roguish grin, cocking his head a little.

She stared at him in disbelief. "You're making that up," she said slowly, hopefully.

"'Fraid not, sweetheart," he replied, enjoying this too much. "You want to call him up and ask him?"

Kate sank down onto the edge of the bed, lowering her crimson face into her hands. "Oh my God..." she groaned.

Sawyer patted her lightly on the back. "Guess that kinda puts the Doc's little gift in a whole new light, don't it?"

Finally, she lowered her hands and gave him a grudging smile. "You feel better now?"

"Be lyin' if I said I didn't," he answered. But his expression was softer now, not as mischievous. She was beautiful when she blushed.

Looking thoughtfully down at the pregnancy test in her hands, she said, "I guess there's no point in putting this off any longer." She stood up. At the door she turned, looking back at him nervously. "Be right back."

He waited, staring at a chipped spot on the hardwood floor, wondering vaguely how much it would cost to have it refinished. A kid could get splinters from a floor like that. The fact that a thought of this nature could even enter his mind startled him so badly that he was about to go back downstairs, out in the yard to get some fresh air maybe, when Kate came back into the room.

"You remember to set the timer?" He couldn't think of anything else to say.

She shot him a look that he could interpret as Yes, I remembered, you moron.

"What do you think it'll be?" he asked, cautiously.

She almost laughed. "Why? You want to wager a little something, make it interesting?"

"I was just curious," he said, annoyed. "Thought you might have your suspicions, one way or the other."

"It'll probably be negative," she said, not sounding even remotely convinced. "It has to be. If it isn't..." she trailed off, miserably.

"Well, now, that'd just be the worst thing in the world, wouldn't it? If it isn't?" he asked, watching her carefully.

She turned toward him, surprised. "Of course it would be! Is there any doubt in your mind? I mean, even leaving aside for a second all our circumstances, we aren't ready for anything like this. Even if we were safe, and normal... I'm only twenty-six. I mean, in some ways I still feel too young for this. And you," she added, looking over at him. "You just said the other day that you hated kids." He glanced away, regretful. "And with the kind of temper you have? Children can be annoying, Sawyer. What are you gonna do if things get out of hand, throw a whiskey bottle at them?"

"I didn't throw it at you!" he said defensively. Then quieter, "You know I would never hurt you...or a kid."

"I know you don't think you would," she said sadly. "But I've seen how hard you have to struggle sometimes not to slap me...and you might not win that struggle every time. For myself, I don't care. I know where that anger comes from, and it doesn't scare me. But it would be different for a child."

He clenched his jaw in agony. For her to voice his own worst fears was almost more than he could handle. Did she have any idea how much it hurt him to hear her say that? He reached into his pocket and lit another cigarette out of spite, but then the thought occurred to him that if she was pregnant, he shouldn't smoke around her. Pissed, he stubbed it out and hurled the entire package angrily in the direction of the trash. Then, realizing his violent motions only proved her point, he got even more annoyed, feeling the need to lash back somehow.

"You can say all you want about me, darlin', but I know the real reason the idea scares the hell outta you so much." He looked at her pointedly. "It'd make all this just a little too official, wouldn't it? You'd be stuck with me for good then, wouldn't ya? No takin' off for greener pastures whenever you feel like it's time to move on." He smiled bitterly. "No matter what you say about how you don't plan to go nowhere, it'd be just a little bit different if you didn't have any choice, right?" He practically spat the last words at her.

She stared at him, almost as if she couldn't comprehend his meaning. "Have you lost your mind?" she practically whispered. "How is it possible for anybody to be so self-centered and so insecure at the same time? You would think that they'd cancel each other out. I can't believe you would even think something like that."

She looked around in wonder, shaking her head. "Why are we fighting? The fact is, all of this is beside the point. Because we both know why this could never work. I mean, look at us, Sawyer! Look at our lives! What kind of parents could we ever be? We can barely even take care of ourselves! We could have been killed the other night," she finished softly.

"But we weren't." His voice sounded flat, tired.

"But we could have been," she reiterated. "Easily. The fact that we're alive now is really just dumb luck. He came here to kill us. What if he hadn't changed his mind? Or what if there'd already been a baby upstairs?"

"I'm not a big fan of the what-ifs, Freckles. You're on your own with that one," he said, looking slightly sick. This wasn't what he wanted to be thinking about right now.

"You know what would have happened," she insisted. "For God's sake, Sawyer, we couldn't even keep a dog alive!" She appeared to be trying to hold back tears. "What makes you think we could do any better with a kid? What happens the next time some deranged husband tracks you down...or even somebody from my past? Do you want to walk in and find your child lying dead in the hallway?" She stopped, tortured. "Who's gonna dig that grave?"

"Just shut up," he said savagely, not wanting to hear any more.

"And even if we managed to keep one safe, what kind of life would any kid be able to have with us as parents?" she continued, ignoring him. "Always having to hide, or being on the run... You know as well as I do that it wouldn't work. It's hard enough for two people to manage it together... with a family, there's not a chance."

She stopped pacing for a second as a new idea occurred to her, twisting her features in torment. "Can you imagine what kind of mother I would make? How do you explain to a six-year-old that mom can't go to the dance recital, or the soccer match, because she's wanted by the FBI?" Kate brushed her hair back from her face distractedly, her hands shaking.

Sawyer watched her. Although he'd tried to hurt her with his words just a few minutes ago, he would now be more than willing to cut off his own arm if it would make her stop looking like that.

"Not to mention the pregnancy itself," she went on, every new angle making her more and more desperate. "How would that work? I can't go to a doctor.. we wouldn't have any clue whether things were okay or not. Who would deliver it?" She turned to him sharply. "And don't you dare suggest Jack."

"I didn't say anything," he replied sullenly.

"You'd love that, though, wouldn't you? Making him do that... for us. Well, you can forget it. I'd deliver it myself, before I'd ask that of him."

Sawyer sighed. "Would you sit down, please? You're actin' like a damn crack addict!"

She complied, lowering herself onto the edge of the bed with reluctance. After a few seconds, her face grew still and her hands settled down, resting in her lap. She looked at him, trying to empty herself of any emotion. In a quiet voice, she spoke. "If it's positive, you know what we'll have to do."

He swallowed, then said in a low tone, "You gonna expect me to try that one with a kitchen knife, too?"

She closed her eyes, gritting her teeth and trying not to cry. "You can find somebody... With the kind of people you know, there must be somebody who does it."

"Sure as hell hope you don't expect me to pay for it, then," he said, almost whispering. "Because I won't do it. Guess you'll just have to scrape together that money on your own somehow."

She looked straight at him, surprised and betrayed, but finally beginning to understand how strongly he felt about this. Somehow, that made it hurt even more.

In a trembling voice, she tried to keep up some semblance of rationality. "Then we would have to give it up. There's no other way. Can't you understand that? If I go to prison..." Her features crumpled dangerously, and she stopped, looking around the room and attempting to keep herself together. She took a deep breath and tried again. "If I go to prison, they would take it away.. they would take it from me. And even if you managed to avoid a sentence yourself, you still have a criminal record. Plus, you're aiding a fugitive. You think there's any way in hell you'd get custody? Why get attached to something you can't keep! I would prefer to never set eyes on it than to have it torn away from us."

Sawyer ran his fingers over his eyes and the bridge of his nose, miserably. Everything she said made sense, but in his gut, he rebelled against her words, instinctively.

"If we could find somewhere safe..." he began.

"There isn't anywhere safe!" she interrupted. "Not for me. You think I haven't tried? I've been all over the world, looking for someplace. I mean, if a desert island isn't safe enough, then what will be? And even if they lose our trail... even if I dye my hair, have reconstructive surgery...use a fake accent, a fake name... No matter what, I'll still be looking over my shoulder constantly. I'll never feel safe. If it's just me, I can pretend, sometimes. But not with a kid," she shook her head emphatically. "I wouldn't be able to fool myself, then."

He continued to stare at her. For the moment, he was out of arguments. She clearly had a response for anything he could possibly say. His eyes spoke volumes, though. She was forced to look away from him.

"Sawyer," she said softly. She gave up fighting against the tears. It was a battle she clearly couldn't win. "Do you think it doesn't break my heart, to know that I can never have that? That no matter how long I live, I will never be able to have a normal life, with a husband, and kids, and a house that I can actually leave sometimes? I try not to think about it, because it kills me. It kills me that... that I'll never change a diaper, or push a swing, or... or lift somebody up to put the angel on the Christmas tree." Her voice broke, and she lowered her face into her hands until she could trust herself not to lose it. Sawyer watched her, horrified, afraid to touch her, not wanting to acknowledge the truth of her words. If he comforted her, it would mean he was giving in to them.

She finally raised her head again, appearing a little calmer. In a sad, weary tone, she spoke. "You know, when I delivered Claire's baby... Even though I was so happy for her, so thrilled... I remember thinking to myself, This is the closest you'll ever get. And then later, when we brought him out to the beach, and everyone came to look...Even you had this look on your face, like... like it was the most amazing thing you'd ever seen. And for just a split second, I hated her." She looked at Sawyer, surprised at herself. "Can you believe that? It must have been the happiest moment of her life, and a tiny part of me hated her for it. What kind of person am I?" Her breath caught in her throat.

"Kate," he whispered, almost weak with the strain of listening to her pour out all this raw heartache. He was on the verge of pulling her into his arms, regardless of his need to hold out against her logic, when they both heard the timer ding.

She looked toward the door, not moving, as if the results would be magically wafted to them, without any further effort. After a few seconds, she stood up.

"You want me to look?" Sawyer offered, praying she would say no.

"That's okay." She smiled slightly. "You wouldn't read the directions, anyway."

Without glancing at him again, she left the room. He waited, not moving, feeling his heard thudding dully in his chest. Why was it taking so long? He finally stood up, but just as he did, he heard her coming back down the hall.

She paused in the door, holding the test. Her face was deathly pale. She took a deep, shaky breath, and let it all out before speaking.

"It's negative."

Then closing her eyes, she added, "Thank God."

His tensed muscles slowly began the process of relaxing themselves. All the possibilities he'd avoided contemplating evaporated into thin air. The house resumed its everyday feel, as if a guest whose expected presence had caused the rooms to take on an aura of brightness and anticipation had suddenly called to cancel, deflating the illusion, causing the day to creep forward in its sad, accustomed way.

"Congratulations." He sounded weary.

She looked at the floor, and he could virtually feel her drawing away, retreating into her shell, as she always did when she'd revealed too much of herself. Just because the barrier between them was invisible didn't make it any easier to cross.

He sighed. "I'm gonna go unload the rest of the stuff... get it in the freezer before it melts."

She nodded slightly, avoiding his eyes. Brushing past her, he left the room and headed downstairs.

Kate continued to stand there, immovable. She looked at the test again, checking for the twentieth time. It was still a minus sign - a small, inconsequential purple dash. Staring at it didn't make it any easier to comprehend. She'd been so sure. The certainty had been growing for so long, albeit subconsciously, that she had begun to accept it as a given without even allowing her conscious mind to grapple with it. The test had been a formality. She had already been positive of the truth, and her arguments had been meant to convince herself as much as Sawyer of the impossibility of allowing this to happen. How could she have been so wrong? It was like her own body had betrayed her.

When she heard Sawyer step out to the porch, she slowly, with deliberate calmness, shut the door of the bedroom, turning the handle all the way first so that it would close more quietly. As if in a daze, she crossed the few steps to the bed and gingerly crawled onto it, lying on her side and drawing her knees up toward her chest.

For a few seconds she remained completely still, almost frozen. Then, with almost no sound at all, she began to weep.