Title: Post-Mortem
Chapter: 3/4
Author: Girl Who Writes
Email: Ask and ye shall receive. Take and ye shall be beaten.
Timeline: This story takes place two years after the crash.
Disclaimer: I make no claim of ownership nor do I make any sort of profit from the use of these characters; they belong to J.J Abrams and the ABC. I am merely a poor fan who just used her last five dollars on EBay.
Author's Notes: Once again, I am blown away by the response my humble little fic has gotten. You may/not have noticed, but I have decided upon four chapters rather than three, because I came up with a perfect epilogue (in English; I'm aiming to give my teacher an aneurysm before I graduate). So, there will be one more chapter.
I was a little worried about the end of this chapter and whether it was cliche and predictable. Let me know your thoughts, because I honestly love feedback. (And with reviewers who are so lovely, who doesn't? ) To those who like the Sawyer interaction, the final chapter will have a little more of that. I hope you enjoy this!
The first thing she does when she gets out is to put on the orange shirt and a pair of jeans that still smell of salt water. Or maybe her mind is just hopeful. She walks out into the street and looks up at the sky and smiles.
It takes her a week to find him – well a few hours to find him, a few days to earn the money to get herself there and a day in the back of bus because she'll never set foot on a plane again; at least, she'll never get on a plane again without a spinal surgeon and a conman.
And she makes it to Los Angeles, her orange t shirt covered in dirt and she hasn't slept in days, but she's in Los Angeles. She can almost picture his eyes, his smile.
Her feet hit the pavement in a pair of hiking boots that belong to a dead woman who wore size six and a half. She's meant to wear a seven and wonders what it would be like to wear a new pair of shoes, bought just for her.
She uses her last twenty bucks to get a cab the last ten blocks, and her mind asks her what she plans to do if Jack's moved on, found someone else.
Why is she here again? Five long years since she saw Jack Shepard without a screen in front of them, seven since she got on Flight 815 from Sydney to Los Angeles and six and a half since he kissed her for the first time… she knows why she's here.
The house is tall and foreboding and she spent her childhood wondering what it would be like living in a house like this. She slings her backpack to the ground and presses the doorbell. She brushes her hair out of her eyes and waits.
"Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in," a familiar Southern drawl meets her ears and she jerks back into reality to see Sawyer on the other side of the door. She wonders how this happened; she was coming to see Jack, after all.
But something in her breaks and her arms are around Sawyer in a bone crushing hug, and tears are on her face but she won't admit to crying over seeing Sawyer for the first time in five years. He visited her once; a cigarette in one hand and a teasing smile his face. There's something scary about how safe she feels around Sawyer, and how much stronger his presence made her be.
"Who's here, Sawyer?"
She knows its cliché, but she dreamt about his voice, about them on the beach, just talking. She remembers everything – the curve of his neck, the feel of his lips on hers and every line of his tattoo. She's missed him more than she's missed anyone in her entire life, and that's not really saying much, as she has never missed anyone in her life.
"Kate."
He's there in a crisp white shirt and looking stunned. She brushes her hair out of her eyes and smiles at him, and he'll always remember how her face lit up when she saw him.
"I'll leave you two to get reacquainted," Sawyer drawls, pulling a cigarette out of his back pocket and smirking, before wandering deeper into the house and yelling out, "Freckles is home!"
"Don't smoke in the house, Sawyer," Jack calls after him, before turning back to her. He reaches out to her and cups her cheek, and suddenly she's in his arms again, her face buried in his shoulder as he holds her. And she doesn't remember how she got through the last five years.
But she remembers why she came.
"Jack!"
The voice is one she does not recognize. A child is standing in the doorway; only three years old – a girl. She has dark curls and an innocent expression. She slips to Jack's side and stares up at them, and before anyone can reply to the child, they can hear heels clicking on the wooden floor.
"Nathalie!"
And she's faced with an older, no less beautiful Shannon, reaching for the toddler. She looks carefully at Shannon – the years have treated her well; the only difference she can pick up is an extra line or two near Shannon's eyes – and an exceptionally large diamond ring on her left hand.
As Shannon straightens, smoothing Nathalie's hair from her face, she looks at her, and she smiles back, almost tentatively. And wonders if Shannon even recognizes her.
"Kate!"
She does.
Nathalie is passed to Jack as Shannon throws her arms around Kate. She exclaims how Kate hasn't changed at all – except she's thinner, so much thinner – and she welcomes the chatter. Shannon pulls away and takes Nathalie from Jack, beaming.
"I guess I'll leave you two alone now," she says slyly. "Don't stay out here too long."
She shakes her head as Shannon vanishes back into the house, calling out for someone. "Who else is here?" she looks at him, smiling slightly at just being able to see him like this. No plastic screens, no grungy telephones, and no handcuffs.
"Everyone," Jack grins at her, and takes her hand, leading her into the house. She can see light flooding in from one of the other rooms and before they walk through the doorway, Jack stops abruptly and turns to her.
This kiss is something she's dreamed about for five long years. It's passionate and deep and she never wants it to end, really. Her arms wrap around his neck and his arms are around her waist, and she realises no amount of day dreaming can make being here right now any less … perfect for her.
He pulls away and smiles at he; a deep smile where she can see the lines around his eyes, and remembers they've both waited a long time for this.
"Kate!"
"You're back!"
As they step into the lighter room, these are the cries that great her. She blinks for a second, and it's like being around the campfire again. Shannon is sitting on the floor with Nathalie, as the child squeals over a toy. Charlie sits at Claire's feet with a blonde boy who could only be Aaron. Sayid is eyeing Sawyer – who is puffing away at a cigarette regardless of Jack's orders – and smiling at her. Michael and Jin stand up to kiss her on the cheek, and Sun jumps to her feet and gives her a hug reminiscent of Shannon's.
"Why are you all here?" she looks confused for a second, as Jack leads her to a chair. She sinks into it, relishing the softness and becoming very aware of her less than stellar appearance. "What's happening?"
Jack appears by her side once again, offering her a cool drink. He takes a seat next to her, his arm snaking around her shoulders almost unconsciously.
The group is silent.
"It's today, Kate," Michael says, looking at her like she's confessed to a murder.
"Today?" she takes a long drink and settles back against Jack's side.
"We got off the island today five years ago," Charlie clarifies and she's suddenly glad Charlie never lost that British accent.
She blinks and all she can recall from the rescue is Sawyer calling her a lady and Aaron crying.
"I didn't have a calendar in prison," she jokes. There's solemn silence from them all and she shakes her head.
Claire offers a smile. "We're glad you're back, Kate."
She offers Claire a bright smile and realises she has friends; friends who won't leave her behind when they find out she's on the run, and she won't leave them behind because she's running. She's not a fugitive or a criminal or a prisoner anymore. She's a survivor.