"Wh-uh... Jack?" Locke's normally self-assured voice, sounding fearful, broke the tense, staring silence in which Sawyer and Jack were entwined.
"It's okay John," Jack breathed choppily, wiping his brow on his arm with a deft motion of his well-muscled neck, "Just working out a few kinks."
"Yeah, kinks," Sawyer tossed the words out carelessly, "he lost Kate."
Locke narrowed his eyes and rested his chin on a hand, "why aren't you looking for her? She could be in danger."
"That's 'zactly what I said," Sawyer snorted, throwing his head back and finally throwing down Jack's poised arm, "arguin' ain't gonna find her faster," he paused, casting his gaze back to Jack, "let's go, doc."
Locke made a move to follow them, "I can help you track her down," he said firmly, "I'll come with--"
"John, the button," Jack reminded him, grimly nodding to the computer.
"How the hell're we supposed to find her out here?" Sawyer asked loudly once they had left the hatch, there it is, he thought darkly, goin' soft again. Carefully, he made sure to add, "don't matter, she'll come back anyway."
"Oh yeah?" Jack asked airily, "thought you loved her," he said, smugly recalling Sawyer's deathbed mumblings.
"Never said that," Sawyer answered haughtily, trying to maintain his persona, "never."
"Right," Jack said, almost jealously, "anyway, we can track her." He added confidently, taking a few steps forward.
"And I suppose you know just how to do that, doncha?"
"I do," Jack said, nodding seriously.
The garbage can in the alleyway smelled like nothing Kate had ever smelled before. There were the scents of burnt compost materials, producing the dreadful odor of melting plastic and rubber, mixed, primarily, with what was likely to be food leftovers from the surrounding company outlets. She leaned back, closing her eyes, trying to breathe solely from her mouth, angered when her lungs exuded a hollow rasping noise at the intake of the cold outside air. There has to be another place I can hide. She could still hear squad cars, anyway, and occasionally found herself almost running again as their lights licked the stark brick surfaces of the skyscraper walls.
The alleyway was probably too narrow for cars in the first place, but her mind was constantly chasing away fleeting images of the square-jawed marshall appearing at the alley's mouth, grinning smugly. She sat silently, cringing at the smells wafting from the garbage, it was her only shield from passerby, she couldn't move away. A necessary evil. She sat, sagging against the wall, breathing deeply through her mouth, occupying her wandering mind with the white clouds of hot air she exhaled. Just praying not to be found.
It wouldn't be so bad sleeping there, sure, it was cold, and she was wearing a tanktop, but she could cope. There were worse things. Maybe as much as an hour ago, she had accepted that no one was coming to find her. Jack was probably being a hero. And Sawyer was probably busy feeling hateful. She was perfectly fine by herself, thank you. There was nothing in the jungle. Who cared? That was the difference in Sawyer, his personality changed channels at an alarming rate. Was he made out of stone or gold? It was really too hard to tell at most times. He couldn't help anyone if, ultimately, he was just trying to wind up dead.
And Jack, she regarded him in her mind, she didn't know about Jack. There weren't any words to describe the way he went about life-- she paused her thoughts-- a messiah complex. That would be it. An essential part of her life thus far, she knew, was the ability, no matter how poor and amateur hers was, to let things go. He was a determined man, striking up a contrast to Sawyer's apathy-- which, come to think of it, she wasn't sure was real. Blinking down at the shady rock, and staring through the darkening light, she felt disheartened again; there it was, that fairytale hope that someone was coming to rescue her from herself.
Slumping against the jagged rockface, readjusting herself as the rocks jabbed at her spine, she dropped her eyes again, I will not cry. Repeating the mantra over and over in her head to encourage herself (however falsely), Kate sat, just praying to be discovered.
"You don't know where you're goin'," Sawyer gasped in frustration, piercing Jack with his stare.
Jack stopped his studious surveying of broken twigs, shrugging his shoulders and sighing, spreading his arms wide, "no, Sawyer, I don't. It's dark. I can't see, I don't know anything. You're the last one who talked to her," his dark eyes glittered with suspicion under the slowly reappearing stars, "what did you say to her?"
Agape, Sawyer stared, "what, you blamin' this on me now?"
"I just want to know what you said to make her run off." Jack said, miserably failing at an attempt to disguise the malice in his voice.
"I didn't say anything," Sawyer growled, making his way away from Jack.
"Look, I'm trying to find her," Jack said diplomatically, "you're not going to find her alone."
"Oh yeah?" Sawyer called from several yards away, "wanna bet, chief?"
Shaking his head, Jack continued to look for signs that someone had passed by here, a bit of broken treebark here, a twisted root there: It all seemed pretty pointless, "You'll get lost," he called after Sawyer, not particularly interested in what Sawyer was going to do, anyway.
"I'm followin' my own path," Sawyer answered harshly, glaring through the growing darkness in the direction of Jack's voice, "I'll find her."
"Suit yourself," Jack answered passively, continuing on his way.
Cursing under his breath, Sawyer resigned after a few more yards on his 'path', following several yards behind the sound of Jack's footsteps. Who was he kiddin'?
She knew she was being looked for, the feeling left her even uneasier than the garbage can and it's rot-saturated tin walls. She gazed across the alley for the first time since taking refuge there. The opposite side was a short, decorative wrought-iron fence. Suddenly, despite her rasping breaths, she was possessed by the urge to move again. She would be found eventually if she did not. There was no stopping that. Standing, she kicked off the wall behind her and launched towards the fence, and, in one powerful spring, leaped over it.
She probably wasn't supposed to be running through here. It looked kind of like a garden. The grass beneath her feet was soft, she could tell, lush, and bright emerald green, and well trimmed, too. The strong scent of evergreen was a welcome change from that of the garbage can. Oh... it's a tree grove. Well, she'd be in deep sht, again, if she was caught in here. There were probably 'no trespassing' signs all around the border. It's their fault for making the fence so short, she thought moodily, continuing to jog amongst the trees, as though her actions were justified.
There were a lot of trees there. Almost like a little forest, an oasis inside the city. Exhilarated at the warmth flooding her cheeks from the running, and the difficulty to breathe, Kate found herself seeking out the tallest tree in the grove. Eagerly, almost hungrily, she dove under its bottom fringe of needles, uncaringly staining her blouse on the grass. Swinging her arm over the lowest branch, she began her ascension. Would they see her up there? Probably not, she reasoned, she could always hide amongst the prickly green clothing of the tree. The best part, by far, was that they wouldn't look up there, and she could sit, possibly for hours, avoiding them. Until, maybe, just maybe, they gave up on looking for her. That's how you run from the law-- quite practically, by taking measures to avoid it.
Kate struggled to gain purchase in climbing the rockface. If she could get to the top, where the ground was flat, and where the waterfall began, she would be found, most certainly, someone would notice her, it was very high up, almost even with all the treetops below her. Her foot slipped, hands clutching at the small, rough rock she had used to pull herself up a few feet. Crumbling shale fell down, clattering emptily on the flat rock below.
Taking a deep breath, she secured her feet again, looking for another rock to grip with her hands. After some doing, she found another. It looked wet, but it was considerably larger than the one she was currently holding. Swinging an arm up, feeling faintly the dizzyness of before, and the throbbing inside her skull, Kate caught the slippery rock, clinging to it for dear life while she struggled to plant her feet against the cliff face. With delight, she realized how close she'd been to the top to begin with, it was only a few feet (maybe three) above her head. If she could just kick up a leg, she could swing it over the edge, and with enough exertion, haul herself over the side. With no regards for the fresh pain in her head, she kicked up her right leg, wincing at the sudden jerking movement of her muscles.
There it was, above her head. The highest branch that could possibly support her weight. Grinning, she leapt from the one below, skillfully catching the higher branch in her arms. Swinging her legs out, careful not to let them break the cover of the tree's green dress, she heaved herself onto the branch, bouncing on it a little to test its strength. It held her fine. Peaking out through the thick green spines of the tree, she could see the street opposite the plaza, the one she had first run from. She'd been wrong all along, no one had come after her. The streets in a square around the plaza were all blockaded with electric yellow road cones, which bore words in printed black, though she could not make them out.
She could, however, distinguish the marshall's figure, looking, again, to her delight, quite confused at what had happened. He must have seen her run across the plaza, but he hadn't followed her... why? Maybe he'd lost sight of her. Giggling at her achievement, the disappointment of the red brick line wiped from her mind (at least momentarily), she surveyed the situation further. There were, indeed, squad cars circling the plaza. So they actually were looking for her, sort of. She peered out at the alley she had just left, her heart sank. Two men had left their squad car, and were searching the alley up and down. She slunk back into the tree, leaning against the trunk, and holding onto the branch below her to control her balance. That was lucky.
The heel of the tan hiking boot caught on the muddy ground atop the rockface. Straining her leg, she heaved upward, grabbing the ledge with her hands, and finally swinging herself over onto the mud and grass, which splashed unforgivingly onto her orange top. She collapsed in a heap, laughing a little, unable not to feel she had achieved something in climbing the rockface. Still laying down, she rolled onto her belly and peeked over the edge, the rockface was quite sheer up here at the top. So how do I get down?
Kate tapped her chin with a muddy hand, if she wanted someone to find her, she'd certainly have to make some kind of noise. Sawyer wouldn't be looking for her at all, he probably didn't care, just as she'd suspected. He was probably sleeping somewhere, hitting on someone, enjoying himself. There was always Jack. That would be alright. She cleared her throat, standing, uncaring for her ruined clothing, "JACK!" she yelled into the quiet night, pausing for breath before calling again, "JACK!"
"I'm gonna turn around," Sawyer said, fed up with the 'obviously' senseless wanderings through the jungle, "she's gonna come back," he mumbled selfishly, "don't matter anyway, you ain't gonna find her."
"Shh!" Jack suddenly said sharply, "did you hear that?" He had a keen, focused look in his eyes.
"Augh, come on," Sawyer scoffed skeptically, "I don't know why I'm even followin' yo-"
"JACK!" This time the cry was louder, it floated to their ears, muffled only by the treetops above them.
"It's Kate," Jack said clearly, nodding, "she's that way," he murmured, nodding in the direction of the cry.
Sawyer stood frozen where he stood. Well, they'd found her, hadn't they. But why the hell was she screamin' his name? He thought she oughtta know by now that he would be the one who came lookin' for her in these situations. He caught himself, what have I done to show her that? He realized with shame, that, in fact, he had done nothing. She hated him. The recurring thought stung Sawyer's brain with guilt. But as he continued to turn over his thoughts of her, the selfish spark rekindled in his mind, his eyes flashed secretly in the dark, well if she don't care, I don't either. Sawyer turned sulkily on his heel.
"You coming?" Jack asked, confused.
"Hell, you found ol' Kate, didn't ya'? Don't need me to go get her for ya'. Dirty work's your job, Doc," his voice rang out through the dark, completely hiding the knot in his throat.
"Okay," Jack said, nodding in what seemed like understanding, grimacing, "fair enough, you head back, I'll find Kate," he finished, gesturing in the direction of the cry again.
As Jack trudged off, following the cry, Sawyer still stood, speechless. Why couldn't she have just called my name? Scowling, thoroughly upset with Kate, and himself, he began walking back the way they had come.
Kate paced up and down across the ledge, there had been no answer to her yell. Maybe Jack wasn't out looking for her after all. That would only mean that no one really was, she thought, sitting down on the ledge with a thud, letting her mud-splashed jeans hang over the edge, she stared down the waterfall. She could always just go back. Yes, I can go back. All she'd have to do was find her way off the ledge, from there, she knew her way back to the hatch. It was a long way down, she thought, looking over the edge with a deadly sinking feeling in her stomach, how to do this, hmm.
Carefully, Kate turned herself around, leaning down on one leg to see if the other would reach over the edge to that highest rock, the wet one. Carefully, she extended her leg. It reached, she realized, her face lighting up. Slowly, cautiously, she lowered herself down, hands clutching the ledge on which she'd stood. She lowered her left leg down to the slippery rock, praying she wouldn't slip. She slipped. Her feet went flying off the slick, uneven surface of the rock, desperately scrambling to get them back on, she felt her hands slip off the ledge above.
Sawyer felt proud of himself, it had been maybe ten minutes tops, and he had already found his way back to the hatch's main entrance. Glowering, despite his best efforts to turn his thoughts, he ran his hand along the outside of he door. Aw hell, it was time to get over this. She didn't care. She loved the doctor. Looking forward, he opened the door and stepped inside, slamming it behind himself.
Heart beating feverishly, Kate found herself falling down, down and-- not that far at all. She landed on the cold, hard flat rock on which she'd sat earlier, on her feet. Her legs folded beneath her, shaking violently from the impact. Kneeling on the stone, she impulsively surveyed the surrounding land, even looked across the pond and the waterfall, to make sure no one had seen her clumsy fall. She stood up, shaking, and dusted herself off. She gained her balance back and readjusted the forehead bandage. What the hell, calling out again was worth a try. There hadn't been the expected return yell from Jack, maybe -he- was out there after all. Kate paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, "SA-" she began loudly, there was a crunching of twigs from the bushes, Kate stopped, her expression dropping, "Locke?"
Bedraggled, and dazed by the sudden appearance of a clearing, Jack stumbled out of the bushes, "Kate," he said loudly and clearly, blinking, as though to make sure she was, in fact, standing right there. Kate's heart sank. How noble. She leapt nimbly from the flat rock. Her head was pounding again.
"Jack," she said breathlessly, arriving at his side, looking around in the darkness, straining her eyes for any sign of him.
"How'd you find this place?" Jack asked, bewildered and awed.
"Where's Sawyer?" Kate asked in response, ignoring him, looking around the clearing for him, as she had done earlier in the hatch.
"He went back to the hatch." Jack said, still staring around.
"Went back?" Kate asked, failing to hide her interest.
"Yeah, he was with me at first but... he left," Jack said distractedly. His eyes came back into focus suddenly, "why'd you run off?"
"I didn't," Kate said, surprised, "I needed to walk, needed to think for a while."
Jack reached up a concerned arm to straighten her bandages again, "you shouldn't have done that. You need to lay down," he said with something that sounded dangerously like frustration.
Kate looked at him, chewing her tongue, was he still thinking about that morning's false come-ons? "Yeah, uh..." Kate said, uncomfortable under his scrutiny, "can we go back?"
"Yeah," Jack said, still staring, starry-eyed, around the clearing.
"Yesterday..." Kate began uncomfortably, leaning over the back of the couch, looking at Sawyer as he laid there on the bunk, she laughed a little, "er..."
"What's wrong, Sassafrass?" He asked, mockingly.
"Nothing," Kate sighed, still feeling the old, familiar guilt.
"Joy," he said sarcastically, "what, you gonna be all depressed every time we hook up?" He asked, carefully choosing his words.
"N-no," Kate stammered, feeling herself blush as blood rushed to her face at the shame and excitement of furthering their relationship. That was it. She felt like she'd betrayed someone by doing this. Jack? Maybe. Tom? Her heart skipped a beat, she closed her eyes, batting away her own thoughts, coupled with those of the growing sense of shame, "I'm a mess." she concluded, hoping that would somehow suffice in explaining everything.
"Me too," Sawyer answered vaguely, still grinning.
Kate felt annoyed, why wouldn't he just wipe that ridiculous smile off his face and be serious for once in his life? "Why're you so happy?" She asked quietly, restraining the urge to haul off and slap him.
"Nothin' to be sad about, Freckles," he sparkled, continuing to smile.
That's it, she thought, he knows what's wrong with me. He's getting his daily sadistic little pleasures from mocking me, she realized bitterly, "you think so?" she asked coyly.
"Sure do," he said, still smiling. Behind his flashing grin, he was, in fact, wondering why he was torturing her. She was cute when she was awkward around him. That seemed to justify it, for now, anyway.
Kate sent her gaze downward, oh well, I'll get back at him, looking purposely forlorn to catch his attention, ashamed at the advantage she was taking of her own feelings.
"Whas' wrong?" He asked again, his grin failing to waiver. Sawyer looked away from her, also deliberately, he felt like a pig, to grin at her while she was looking like that. He realized, though, that whatever game she thought she was playing, whatever test she thought she was giving, he knew it well.
Kate was irritated again, what did he think asking what was wrong with her was going to achieve? He knew she wasn't going to answer his questions. She turned her eyes up to him, "How are -you- feeling today?" She asked, pointedly evading his question, though she had already asked her own once before.
"Oh I'm just fine," he said, his accent adding a leisurely stroke to the statement, "but I asked about you."
"I'm fine," Kate said defiantly, "I just..." she stammered, afraid to hurt her pride anymore than she feared she already had.
"Just what?" He asked, his grin actually losing a bit of strength.
"I guess I'm sick of being toyed with."
"Oh, I ain't toyin' with ya', doll," he said, in a tone of mock affection, "takes two to tango."
He was right, Kate thought dismally as she and Jack reached the hatch door. Whatever she found inside, she had played her own part in it, in one way or another. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself for any injuring comments, but mostly, those hateful eyes. Her heart thundered, in spite of herself, as the door swung inward. She could see him stretched out on the couch, looking up at the ceiling. He didn't even turn his head upon hearing them enter. Doesn't even care that I'm here, Kate noted, her stomach turning a somersault. She headed for the bunkbed, under Jack's orders to lay down, making sure to pass by him on the couch. Letting her mud-caked jeans rake across his arm as she walked past, she cast him a sideways, questing glance out of the corners of her eyes. He glared back ferociously. Knew he would.