Ajira 316 landed at LAX. It wasn't supposed to, it wasn't allowed to, it shouldn't have been there at all. Medical tents assembled quickly as the authorities examined and interviewed the passengers before they were allowed off the plane. They were alive. It was a miracle.
A group of people stepped off the plane. The news was waiting, clamoring to see who was in this lost plane. The first to step out was the pilot. He looked ragged and exhausted, but he waved good-naturedly at the reporters. Two men followed him, one looking around in awe, the other trying to push past the media. There were three people behind them, a woman with blonde hair and a ripped shirt, and a man supporting another woman, who seemed to have a gunshot wound in her shoulder.
"That's Kate Austen! One of the Oceanic Six!"
Reporters were screaming, asking for comments, forcing their way to the survivors, but airport security held them back. There was an Ajira Airways representative waiting there, and he ushered the survivors into a private room in the airport.
When they were away from the crowd, the group took a collective sigh of relief. They were off the island. But it wasn't the same kind of sigh of relief Kate remembered taking the first time she returned home. Too many people were gone this time. Not lost, like Sawyer had been. They were dead.
She had been so blinded by her grief that the festering wound on her shoulder didn't even seem to hurt anymore. Sawyer and Frank, however, forced her into a medical tent, where the wound in her shoulder finally received medical attention. They were impressed by the stitches there. They asked her if she did them. She said no. They were Jack's stitches.
When they said she was okay, she returned to the conference room. The Ajira Airways representatives seemed shocked. Two survivors from the 316 crash had landed, but two survivors from a plane crash that happened 3 years ago were here too. Oceanic 815.
Sawyer tried to talk, to explain what had happened. Kate had hurriedly told him the Oceanic Six's story on the plane, and she hoped he was sticking to it. Maybe he and Claire had been surviving somewhere else. Maybe these other people that had been brought back survived some other freak crash, some accident that was off the record. Maybe they were from a long time ago.
She was distracted for the entire meeting thinking about Aaron. She wasn't naïve enough to believe that she be free even though she violated her parole. And she had to get Claire back to her son, so the truth about Aaron would come out eventually. It had never really been her intention to return. She had thought she'd die there.
"Ms. Austen?"
One of the representatives was trying to get her attention. She looked up. Sawyer caught her eye.
"Ms. Austen, there's some people waiting for you outside this room."
She knew he was being purposefully vague, but also knew it was police officers. She had told Sawyer what was going to happen to her, and she'd told him that she was going to run. They had a plan. They'd see each other again.
"What the hell are you doing here? Why did you come here?"
Kate was standing outside a nice house, a woman blocking the doorway from her. It had been three months since Ajira 316 had landed, three months since she'd seen the other survivors. She had to run.
"I just …" Kate could barely speak through her tears. "I needed to apologize."
"Apologize?" the woman spat. "How could you ever –"
She was interrupted when a little boy ran up to her from inside the house.
"Mommy?" he asked, tugging on her arm. Kate's breath caught when he saw him. His little eyes, his dirty blond hair, he looked so familiar.
"Mommy, who is that?" the boy asked, staring up at Kate. She felt tears burning her eyes.
"It doesn't matter, Connor, go back inside," the woman said shortly.
"She's daddy's friend?" Connor asked. "I saw her picture."
The woman's eyes brimmed with tears and she turned her back to Kate, whispering something to her son. The soothing words convinced the boy to leave the conversation, leaving Kate to face the woman alone.
"Rachel," Kate tried after wiping at her eyes.
"Kate, please leave," Rachel said, looking at her with a mixture of hate and pity behind her eyes. "I won't call the police, but I can't … Connor doesn't even remember his father, and now he's met his killer. I just …"
Kate felt immense guilt, sympathy for Rachel, and a lump filled her throat as she said, "It was an accident. It was my fault, but I swear it was an accident." She desperately needed Rachel to understand. She never wanted Tom to get mixed up in her life. It hadn't been her intention when she was a kid and he helped tend to her injuries after sustaining abuse, it hadn't been her intention all those times she had cried in his arms, and it hadn't been her intention when she'd gotten him killed while she was on the run.
"Tom told me about you," Rachel said. Maybe she could see the hurt in Kate's eyes, because her cold tone softened a little bit. "He felt sorry for you. Your parents … you killed your dad and your mom turned you in. It doesn't get much sadder than that."
"And then I killed my best friend," she whispered.
Rachel sighed. She's spent so much time grieving her husband, hurting for her son, hating Kate, and now she was talking to her, the woman who was responsible for his death, and she felt pity. Pity for Kate, who seemed so broken, so lost.
"Why are you here, Kate?"
Kate shook her head, wiping at her eyes again. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I just, I needed closure," she said desperately.
Rachel smiled sadly at her. "I don't think I can give it to you."
She turned around and shut the door. Kate stood silently on the doorstep for a moment before turning around, tears streaming freely down her face now, not even bothering to wipe them away.
She walked for a few miles before she came across landmarks she recognized from her childhood. She saw the diner where her mom worked. She turned another corner, knowing it was her street, knowing the burnt ruin she'd left was still there.
"Hey, freckles."
She jumped, surprised. She couldn't believe he'd actually come.
"Surprised to see me?" he asked, reading her expression. "I wasn't gonna leave you hanging."
Her eyes filled with new tears. "Sawyer," she whispered, grabbing his hand. He looked into her eyes, feeling her pain. He knew she felt his too.
"This is where you grew up?" he asked, looking around. She nodded. They looked around at the destruction, the house that no one had bothered to attend to after she'd destroyed it. For a while, it was a crime scene. After that, it was a reminder of the pain that Kate had endured there. She tried to distract herself by looking at the trees, the ground where she used to play with Tom to avoid going inside. Silent tears streamed down her face and she tried to imagine this place without the trauma she'd faced inside. She wished she could think of Tom, but that memory only brought her more pain.
"You wanna leave?" Sawyer asked gently. There was no way for him to know just how much it hurt her to be here, but he understood her need to find closure, to search for an escape from the weight trauma held on her.
"Yes."
He smiled and squeezed her hand, leading her to his car, and they left her childhood house behind.
"You really think I should come in with you?" Sawyer asked. They had returned to LA, carefully, secretly, and now Kate was standing outside a house that had become very familiar to her in the past three years.
"Of course," Kate assured him. He got out of the car and stood next to her when she rang the doorbell.
It opened slowly, cautiously. Cassidy stood on the other end, staring at Kate in shock.
"Why the hell are you here? With him?" Cassidy spat, glaring at Sawyer.
Kate was surprised at her reaction. She'd thought that she and Cassidy were always in things together.
"He wanted to see his daughter," Kate explained, trying to move forward into the house.
Cassidy stared at her. "Kate, you of all people should know that I don't want him here. She's not his daughter. He doesn't care about her."
"He changed," Kate reasoned, glancing at Sawyer, almost forcing him with her eyes to speak up and defend himself.
"Cassidy," he started, taking a step forward, "Kate's been trying to help me. She knows that I … who I was when I met you, and she wanted me to make it right."
Cassidy's face was set. She wouldn't look at Sawyer, and instead stared at Kate. Kate was shocked to see anger in her eyes. "You've seen me raising Clementine. You've heard about my hardest days. You knew, knew what I felt for him, why I thought I needed him, how I finally got over him. And you brought him here?"
Kate swallowed. "I thought that I could help you, too. I thought your family would … that I could fix it. For you, both of you." She didn't know what else to say. They were both her friends, and she wanted to help them.
Cassidy laughed, but it didn't meet her eyes. "You want to fix my family? Or, Kate, do you want to help him with his kid because you can't have yours? Do you feel guilty that, after you destroyed your own family and lost your new one, Sawyer had a chance at his own?"
Cassidy knew it was harsh, and she felt sorry for Kate as she watched her try to understand what she'd meant.
Sawyer put his arm around Kate, sensing her discomfort. "It's okay, let's go." She didn't move. He looked up at Cassidy.
"I know you don't want to hear it, but I really am sorry. There's no way for me to make up for what I did to you and your daughter. But if there ever is, I will." He tried to steer Kate back towards his car, but she wasn't moving. It seemed like she finally found her voice again.
"I didn't lose him!" she shouted at Cassidy. She moved like she wanted to hit her, like she suddenly hated the woman who had become her friend. Kate was trying to help her, just like she'd tried to help her mom, and both times Kate was met with the same resistance and hate.
Cassidy looked at her with the same kind of pity Rachel had had. "Then where is he?"
Unable to respond, Kate glared at her, alarmed at the lack of hate she felt inside. She couldn't make herself hate Cassidy, who she'd loved for so many years. She couldn't hate Claire, who was Aaron's mother. She couldn't hate Sawyer, who had made a mistake years ago and was now hurting for the loss of a loved one just like she was. So, exhausted, Kate turned around and walked back to the car, Sawyer following quickly after.
"Are you okay?" he asked when they'd been driving for a few minutes. She was staring straight ahead, unresponsive.
"Kate," Sawyer continued, "I know what you're going through. I know you feel guilty for everything that's happened. It's not your fault."
She nodded slowly. He swallowed.
"I called Claire," he told her bluntly.
"What?"
He knew she'd be annoyed, but he noticed a hint of hope creep into her eyes when he glanced at her.
"Yeah, I mean, it's been a while. Cops ain't gonna stake out your house anymore. You're famous, and all ya did was violate parole. We both thought it'd be okay for you guys to meet up." She didn't say anything. "We'll be there in five minutes," he told her.
They pulled up to an old motel. Despite Sawyer's reasoning about the police, Kate was glad they were still being careful. She couldn't imagine going to jail now, after all this.
They climbed the steps to one of the rooms. Sawyer pushed the door open after knocking, and Kate braced herself. She had barely allowed herself to imagine that her son would be in this room. She convinced herself that Claire wouldn't have brought him, that she would just want to talk to her again. Sawyer had told her that when Claire saw Aaron again, she seemed to fall back into her old self. All it took was a tiny reminder. And Aaron, Sawyer had said, was happy she was back. He missed Kate, but now he had his mom back.
"Hi, guys!" Claire said excitedly, rushing forward to meet them. Kate's eyes darted quickly around the room. There wasn't much stuff in the room, no clothes thrown over the bed, but there, by the couch, was a tiny shoe. Her heart began to fill up, and hope lit up her eyes.
Claire gave Sawyer and Kate each a hug, staring worriedly at Kate before turning back to the room. She was looking at a door that must lead to a bathroom.
"Aaron!" she called. Kate's breath caught. "Aaron, someone's here to see you!"
The little blond boy poked his head out of the bathroom to see who it was. His eyes landed first on Sawyer, and he smiled, walking towards him. Then he saw Kate.
"Mommy!" he yelled, running towards her, his arms outstretched. Kate caught him, surprised, then looked at Claire guiltily, but she nodded, smiling. Kate held the little boy close to her, relieved he was here, with her, that she could see him again.
"Hi baby," she whispered, her voice overflowing with joy. She put him down, and he sat down on the bed, motioning for her to sit next to him. She did, and Claire sat on the other side, a hand wrapped around his tiny shoulders.
"Mommy," Aaron said to Kate, "my mom," he gestured to Claire, "she said you saved her." He smiled happily up at her. "You a superhero."
"I don't know, baby," she said, smiling, but he shook his head, eyes beaming with pride.
"Bad guys got my mom," he said knowledgably. "You saved me."
Kate glanced at Claire, grateful. She was so happy Aaron had adjusted, that he was happy with Claire, but she was relieved he hadn't forgotten her. She loved this story he had been told, that she was a superhero, that she had done something good for him. All she had ever wanted was to protect people – her mother, Tom, Kevin, Jack. And now, finally, it had paid off. Aaron was here, he was okay, and he loved her.
"I love you baby," she told him softly, pulling him into her lap and hugging him.
"I love you too, mommy," he laughed.
"You listen to your mom, okay?" Kate told him, kissing his little head. "Listen to your mom."
Claire stared at her, trying to meet her eye.
"You can stay," Claire said. "For a little while, if you want."
Kate shook her head, gently lifting Aaron back onto the bed and staring up. She looked down at him, her son, the little boy who thought she saved him. "I'll see you again," she told him. Then she hugged Claire, kissed Aaron goodbye, and left with Sawyer.
After leaving the motel, Kate and Sawyer got back in his car.
"Thank you," she said, looking up at him. "For … for picking me up in Iowa, for going to Cassidy, for -" she paused, searching for the words to say it, "for bringing me to see him."
Sawyer nodded. He understood.
"When you left, when you … ran," he started as he began driving away from the motel, "I went to find Juliet's sister."
Kate glanced at him. She hadn't known.
Sensing her watching him, Sawyer continued, "Yeah, Juliet told me all about her. Apparently, Jules did some crazy research before she went to the island. Her sister had chemotherapy, and Juliet did some medical trick on her, and then she got pregnant. It was … I guess it was a miracle."
Kate nodded, listening, impressed.
"Her sister, she named the kid Julian." Sawyer paused now, and Kate knew he was letting himself show his hurt, feel the hurt that they'd both endured for so many months now.
"Anyway," Sawyer continued, his voice a little raspier than usual, "I wanted to talk to her. Tell her what happened, about Juliet, about our time together. And this kid, he … I mean, he had her eyes." Sawyer smiled, remembering. "Her sister was great, too. I mean, we could mourn Juliet together. And this kid … Julian. It was like he knew this woman he'd never met was gone, and he knew how much she meant to us, and he helped. His little smile, his tiny hands. He helped me grieve her, and he helped me find closure."
Kate was nodding, listening. "I – that's great, Sawyer."
"I know what you're gonna do, you know," Sawyer told her. "I ain't gonna pretend I didn't think about it too. I was searching for closure for a different reason than you are. But, freckles, your boy was right. You're a superhero," he said, smiling, and she couldn't help but laugh. "I mean, hell," he continued, laughing out loud now, "you shot evil incarnate. You got Aaron off the island, then you got Claire off the island. We owe you."
Her smile had faded. "I didn't get everyone off the island."
And now she'd said it, and they both thought of them – Juliet, Sun, Jin, Sayid, Jack. So many of their friends that hadn't made it. It wasn't her fault, it wasn't his fault, but those losses weighed heavily on each of them, and Kate didn't know how to cope with it.
"Kate," Sawyer said softly, "they all … they made their choices. It ain't no one's fault, and it for sure isn't yours."
She was quiet for a minute, thinking.
"I'm not a hero," she said finally. "I've killed people. I've gotten people killed. On the island. Here, too. Heroes don't do that." She sighed. "And no one would want to celebrate me, they'd want to throw me in jail."
Now Sawyer was quiet.
"I just need to try to fix the thing's I've lost," she told him. "I killed my best friend and left his wife and kid behind. I took Cassidy's advice on everything and gave her almost nothing in return. I raised … I - I took Aaron and I had to give him his mom back."
"Kate, you did good," he said. "You tried to make it up, you tried to get closure. And come on, Aaron thinks you're a damn superhero."
They smiled again, but this time it didn't reach either of their eyes.
"Sawyer, I appreciate you coming back for me," she said. "But I gotta go now."
"Call me before you do it?" he asked, pulling over near a bus stop. "I'm still gonna try and talk you out of it."
She smiled and hugged him. They both felt it was goodbye this time.
She stood outside a hospital. Her face was covered with a large bouquet of flowers as she walked inside, her heart beating quickly as she remembered the last time she had tried the same trick.
"Room 230."
She took the stairs. Flowers in front of her. Eyes ahead, looking, searching.
The hallway with room 230 was empty. No police waiting. They had either given up or they no longer cared about a once famous public figure on the run from the law.
She didn't bother to knock. She just walked into the room, placing the flowers on the table. They were for her, to hide her, not for the woman she was visiting, who never hid her.
"Katherine?"
The voice was weak and tired, but the woman sat up to look at her daughter. Kate nodded, trying to smile, but all she could manage was a weak grimace.
"Hi, mom," Kate whispered, walking closer, pulling up a chair to sit next to her. "How are you feeling?"
Kate had been prepared to come in and say what she needed to say, what she had to get off her chest, but seeing her mother like this, so alone, and sick, and scared, she couldn't bring herself to be so harsh.
"I'm alright," her mom answered. She reached out a hand, and Kate took it.
"Are the police still looking for you?"
Kate nodded. "Thanks for not calling them."
"You're welcome."
They sat in silence for a few moments, then –
"Katherine, I'm sorry."
Kate started. She looked at her mom, who was crying quietly, and wiped a tear of her own away.
"I'm sorry that I turned you in. I should have helped – I should have been there for you. Not just when … always, I …" Her voice broke, and Kate finally saw the woman she knew was her mother. The woman who she knew would love her no matter what. And now, finally, she'd acknowledged it.
"It's okay, ma," Kate whispered, framing her mom's face with her hands, holding her as tears of relief streamed down her face.
"No," her mom tried, her voice sounding even weaker. "You are my daughter. I should have protected you from him, from the police …"
"It's okay, it's okay." Kate had been waiting her whole life to hear her mother say these things, to hear her acknowledge the pain Kate's life had held. It was such a stark contrast to when her mother had first seen her, after the crime, when she'd wondered if Kate would apologize for protecting them.
"Katherine, I'm going to die," her mom said suddenly. Kate nodded. She knew; that's why she was here now. "I'm so glad you're here. I didn't want … to go without seeing you."
"I'm glad I came too," Kate said, squeezing her hand.
They sat together for about an hour, barely talking, constantly reassuring each other that the other was forgiven. And when Kate got up, doctors rushing in to check on the woman whose heart had stopped, she felt like a great burden had lifted off her own heart.
Kate double checked the number on her piece of paper, making sure she had the correct apartment. It had taken her over two weeks to get here from the hospital in Iowa because she'd wanted to be at her mother's funeral and visit the grave after the large crowd had dispersed. But here she was, at her last stop, almost finished with her journey and hoping she could get this last piece of closure before moving on.
"Katie?"
Kate was relieved when she saw the man who opened the door.
"Hi, daddy," she said, smiling as he pulled her in to hug her.
He welcomed her inside, sat her down at his kitchen table and hurried to get her water and something to eat. She was surprised at his warm welcome, especially considering it had been over five years since they'd seen each other, and their last meeting had been less than amicable.
"How are you?" he asked, sitting down, a peanut butter sandwich and water placed neatly in front of her. She smiled down at the table, feeling like a little kid again.
"Okay." She paused, sipping the water. "How are you?"
He smiled. "I'm good. I've missed you."
She swallowed, worried her anger would boil over. There was no need for him to miss her. She had been here, off the island, out of jail, for years.
"Why weren't you there? When I landed, with the Oceanic Six?" Her voice was cold, and she didn't feel sorry for him when his face fell and his eyes darted around.
"Katie, I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd want to see me."
She rolled her eyes. "Why didn't you come to my trial?"
He hesitated. "I watched it, on the news. I didn't think you'd want me there …"
"Why not? Because you practically called me a murderer? Because you would have felt guilty if I talked about why I did it? Because you never protected me, and you weren't going to start then?" Her voice rose with each accusation, throwing them at him, and he flinched away as if they were fire.
"Katie," he started slowly, working hard to keep eye contact with her, "I never wanted you to get hurt. Not when you were a kid, not when you were on the run, not when your plane crashed, and not during your trial. But I had responsibilities, too. I couldn't have raised you, I couldn't have harbored you as a fugitive, and I couldn't bring myself to watch your trial knowing you could be put in jail."
She was quiet for a minute, forming her thoughts. "Why couldn't you raise me?" She hated that she sounded like a kid, but her sad anger had taken over her voice.
He smiled sadly at her. She hated that smile, that look that so many people had shown her over the past few weeks.
"You know I lost custody in the divorce," he told her. "But, come on, we had fun in the summers, when we went camping and hunting together."
He was trying to distract her from her pain, and she appeased him, nodding and smiling a little.
"Katie, I know I should have helped you. And your mom. But it was easier for me to believe you when you lied about your cuts and bruises."
She bristled at this memory, at the times he'd yelled at her to tell him the truth, then, as she got older, been quiet as he realized her lies were easier to accept.
"I wanted to tell you," she whispered. "I didn't know how, I … it was so bad."
She had no idea how to talk about what had happened to her when she was a kid, a teenager. She knew he knew some of what had happened, and his theories were confirmed when she killed her dad. But she'd never talked about it before, not to him. The only person she'd ever felt comfortable talking to about those times, those scars, was Jack.
"I know," he assured her. "It wasn't your fault. None of it."
"I killed him. That was my fault."
Neither of them had an answer for that.
She finished the water and stood up, glancing at the sandwich but no longer hungry.
"I wish you would have come to see me," she told him quietly, and with one final look, she turned around and left the apartment.
Kate walked slowly towards the pay phone on the street. She was looking out at the Pacific Ocean, taking in the almost serene waves. She glanced around, sure no one recognized her but needing that comfort of anonymity.
"Hello?"
The voice on the other end picked up quickly, sooner than she'd expected.
"Hi," she said. "It's me."
"Kate. Where are you?"
"Sawyer, it's okay," Kate said. It'd been a while since they'd left each other, but she owed him one more goodbye. "How are you?"
"I'm fine, freckles. Please, tell me where you are."
"Sawyer, promise me you'll check on Aaron. Just a little, every once in a while." Her voice didn't break this time. She was strong now, she'd gotten the closure she'd needed, and the places she'd missed it didn't matter to her anymore.
"Okay." He sounded resigned now. He knew she'd made up her mind.
"Okay," she said. "Maybe, I don't know, maybe I'll see you again. You never know, right?"
He laughed. "Right."
There was a pause. There was so much each wanted to say to the other, but there wasn't time for them to do it.
"Goodbye, Sawyer."
"Goodbye, Kate."
She hung up the phone and took a deep breath. She walked towards the end of the pier she'd been standing on and reached into her jacket. No one was around. No one would hear it.
"Kate?"
She almost dropped the gun as she turned around. Her jaw dropped when she saw who it was.
"Hurley?"
"Hey dude!" he rushed toward her, scooping her up in a hug. Concern flashed across his face when he noticed the gun, and understanding replaced it when he took in their surroundings, but a huge smile remained on his face.
"What are you doing here?" Kate asked him. The last time she'd seen him he'd decided to stay on the island, with Jack. She hadn't known he was even still alive.
Hurley laughed. "Well … after you guys left, I sort of became the new Jacob. Ben, too. He's been helping me."
Kate stared, surprised. "What?"
"Yeah, you know," Hurley said, nodding his head, "Jack helped me. Now I'm kinda in charge of the whole island."
"Jack," she whispered, smiling slightly, staring up at Hurley in amazement.
"What are you doing here?" she asked again after they'd stared at each other for a while.
Hurley bit his lip, looking at her. "I don't really understand it, Kate," he started, "but ever since I got these … powers … I've felt more connected, or something, to all of you. I just, I could feel like you were in trouble."
Kate smiled. "I'm fine."
Hurley's eyes drifted towards the gun, then back to her face. "I almost killed myself once, too," he told her softly. Kate blinked. "Yeah. But all it took was someone I loved, who cared about me, to talk me off that cliff."
Hurley reached out his hand for the gun. Kate inhaled, incredulous.
"Come on, dude. I can help you."
Despite her resolve, despite her pain, despite her hard work to be mentally and emotionally ready to do this, Kate felt herself wavering. Hurley saw it, and he reached forward and took the gun away. Then he threw it over the side of the pier, and it landed with a splash in the water.
"Hurley!" Kate shouted, looking over the railing.
"Kate, don't you want to see him? Don't you want to say goodbye?"
And in that moment, she realized she had forgotten one box on her checklist. She stared up at her friend, amazement in her eyes, and nodded.
"Good," Hurley told her, and he took her hand.
"How did we get here?"
Kate looked around. The pier had disappeared, the railings replaced by sand. Kate looked up at the familiar hills, the familiar jungle. She was back on the island.
"I told you, dude, I don't really know how it works. Not yet, anyway. Ben's helping me figure it out." Hurley laughed at her amazed face. "Follow me."
He led her around the beach to their old campsite. She recognized it without even meaning to, then looked a little farther.
"This is where we buried him," Hurley said quietly. They were standing at the makeshift cemetery plot Jack had made years ago.
"He's here, with everyone. Boone and Shannon. Ana Lucia, Libby. Michael, Mr. Eko, Charlie, and Juliet, they're somewhere else, but I see them sometimes too."
"See them?" Her voice was barely a whisper as she knelt in front of the branch cross she knew marked Jack's grave.
"Yeah," Hurley said. "Everyone visits me now. Some more than others, but …" He trailed off and Kate looked up, wiping her tears.
"Hurley?"
"Um," Hurley said, glancing at a spot a few inches next to Kate. "Jack's here."
She stood up, looking around. "What?" She looked back to the grave.
"No, I mean … I can see him. He says … he wants you to know that he loves you. And he misses you. But that you guys are gonna be together again."
Kate was staring where Hurley was staring, listening to him talking, listening to Jack's words. "We are?"
"Yeah," Hurley answered. "But he wants you to know that you're not supposed to be with him right now. Right now, you need to be with Aaron."
Kate swallowed, wiping at her face.
"Jack," she whispered. She didn't know if he was really here, but she believed Hurley, and so she kept talking. "Jack, I love you. And I thought I needed you, only you. I felt guilty moving on, continuing to live, so I tried to die."
Hurley was quiet, but he was watching the empty space in front of her as if Jack were really there.
"But now that I've come here, now that I've gotten closure with you, I believe you. I am going to see you again. But not now, not here."
Hurley glanced at her. "He says it's okay. He says Aaron needs you now and … and that he'll see you again."
Kate smiled, looking over at him. "I know. I heard him."
Sawyer was relieved to see her again. He didn't know what had changed her mind, but he was grateful for whatever happened. She told him that she didn't need to be afraid of anything anymore, not the cops, not her past, not her family. All that mattered now was helping Claire and raising Aaron. And that was what she did. And they were happy, and, finally, Kate was happy too.
The first thing she remembered was seeing Aaron's face. She held him close, whispering to him how much she loved him. She looked at Claire, and knew that she remembered too. Remembered their time together loving this little boy, loving his mistakes and his successes, loving every little thing about him. Kate hugged her son close to her chest, then handed him to Claire, who kissed him and stared up at Charlie.
Charlie. Kate couldn't believe he was here. She smiled as he and Claire reunited, and with a last kiss to Aaron, walked outside to find him.
She knew he would be here. She was no longer burdened with anything, she just felt his presence near her. And there he was, on the other side of the venue, standing by himself.
She smiled to herself as she walked to meet him. She knew he wasn't ready yet, that of all of them it would take him the longest. But she walked towards him, and her eyes filled with joy, and she felt like she was finally at peace.
They talked, her soaking in his presence; him, confused, but listening. She brought him to the church and waited for him inside. And when she saw him again, she knew he was ready too.
And so Kate took Jack's hand, and they sat down, and they moved on. And their light brightened that glowing light in the heart of the island, the island that had brought them together and let them stay together.