DISCLAIMER: I own nothing LOSTrelated.Also, character death included.
SUMMARY: She just needed the inky black darkness to invade herself. She just needed to be broken down to nothing so she could build back up again. Strange that deathwas the thing to finallybringthem together.
Shoot Out the Lights
She was so tired she couldn't sleep. Her limbs quivered and she walked slowly, feeling almost drunk. She lost her bearings, thought she regained them, then lost them again. Was she standing up anymore? No, she was looking at the stars, feeling the dew of early morning on the leaves seep into the thin t shirt she wore. The wetness was not acknowledged. The diamonds set into velvet caught her blurred vision. Its brilliance took her shallow breath and tears slid into her hair. The wetness was not acknowledged.
Slow images of that night were choppy and unfinished in her hazy mind. Claire's screams, Aaron's cries, one of the camper's blood on her hands and arms. She didn't even know his name. That was what bothered her the most, as selfish as it was. Someone killed a man, and she was out wandering the jungle, unconcerned for her safety or the safety of the camp. She just needed the inky black darkness to invade herself. She just needed to be broken down to nothing so she could build back up again. Stronger and more impenetrable. Obviously she wasn't as unbreakable as she had previously thought.
Resting her weary limbs felt so good, and her eyelids crashed down, thankful for release.
Vincent woke her the next morning. Kate had gotten a couple hours of sleeping like a log, but the lack of sleep during the previous week was not nearly made up for, and her head pounded. Her eyes were sensitive to the sun, shielded as it was by the fronds of the trees above her.
"Goddammit." She mumbled, pushing the dog away and wiping its thick saliva from her cheek. The feel of the dog's solid body against her hand made her want to grab him again, so she reached out for Vincent's collar and pulled the dog to her. She rubbed his heavy fur and hugged him, thanking him for finding her and asking him to take her back home.
Lack of food and rest caused her to drop back to her knees once she'd stood. Kate laughed maniacally at herself, knowing how dangerously close she was to losing it completely, but too far gone to care. Camp was thankfully close, and Vincent bounded off to play with Walt, leaving Kate shuffling to her tent to eat some fruit that didn't look or taste appealing.
The warmth of the sun, and the heaviness in her stomach after she'd eaten two papayas lulled her into sleep again. But this time, she was not exhausted enough to drop into dreamless sleep.
The unexpected murder of one of their fellow campers deeply terrified them all. None more so than Jack. Ironic, isn't it. Jack, the leader, the strong one. The one who showed more courage through all their adventures, who showed courage through this new horror, was the one deepest affected by it. Fear of another attack was surpassed only by the inane, selfish fear of being blamed for not being able to stop it. No one would say it, but they would send him sideways glances, muttering to each other. Why is he our leader, he can't protect us? But that was just his exhaustion talking. No one would blame him, but he would blame himself.
Sayid, Hurley, Michael, and Jack took care of Riley's body. The man was 26 years old. He was alone on flight 815, traveling to Los Angeles to meet his fiancée. Only those who'd known him in their time on the island attended the burial. The others were too afraid. As if attending a murdered man's funeral would somehow surround them with bad luck, karma. Then they would be next.
Tension rippled through the camp. Jack felt it as he walked along the beach, after burying Riley's body. He still felt the stickiness and warmth of the boy's blood on his hands, but it was only his imagination. A sharp scream barely jogged him out of his numbness. Movement caused his eyes to look up as Kate tumbled out of her tent, landing on her hands and knees in the sand. Claire was at her side instantly, Aaron cradled in one arm, her other hand on Kate's back, speaking in low, soothing tones.
Jack walked quickly to the women.
"Kate? Are you alright?"
As she looked up to his voice, the intensity of fear in her eyes nearly made him take a step back. Kate stood, trying to ignore Claire's hand helping her, and brushed the sand off herself.
"I'm fine. Just a…spider."
Kate was usually a good liar, but Jack saw through that one too easily. He turned to Claire a moment, saying her name caused her to shift her eyes from her friend to meet his weary brown eyes.
"Claire, could you give us a moment, please?" He sounded like a doctor, then. The Aussie nodded stiffly and sent glances over her shoulder at them.
Jack pulled Kate inside, and regained herself enough to shake him off once encased in the blue tarp walls.
"You don't look well." He informed her, and she grit her teeth.
"I don't feel well, Jack, what do you expect? A man was murdered last night. I can't sleep, I see all of his blood in the sand. I can hardly keep any food in my stomach and…and I'm…I'm…"
"What?" He prodded as gently as he could.
Kate's face tightened into a mixture of discomfort and sorrow. "I'm just so tired."
"I could always mix some sleeping pills in with your food."
The corners of her mouth turned up into not quite a smile at the memory, and Jack looked at her warmly.
"The caves are quieter, maybe you'll sleep better there." He offered in the silence, and Kate kept her head bowed for a moment before swallowing hard and returning her eyes to his with a soft nod that screamed defeat.
As they passed into the jungle, Sawyer slinked around a large tree, not looking at them, apparently trying to make it back to his tent undetected.
"Sawyer." Jack called out loudly and walked to him.
The Southerner looked up in surprise, eyes wide. It was the strangest expression Kate had ever seen him wear.
"Where you two lovebirds headed off to so early?" Sawyer's smirk made a sudden appearance, and his deliberate drawl cut through the morning air. Only Kate could tell it was slightly higher today, edgy. When she looked up, he was not looking at her.
"I didn't see you last night. Your tent was close, why didn't you come out?"
"I don't like your tone, Doc." He spat the name, taking a step forward with clenched fists. Kate touched Jack's arm.
"Go do something productive, Sawyer." Jack said through a sigh, unwilling to deal with any hostility.
"Everybody's mopin around here, there's nothing interesting around the beach." He paused to quirk a brow at Jack. "Mind if I join ya'll?"
"Not like I can stop you." Jack resigned, touching Kate's eyes with his before turning toward the caves. She followed dutifully, keeping her gaze on Sawyer as long as she could. He did not turn his eyes toward her, but directed them at the sand as he turned away.
The temperature rose around noon, and the humidity made sweat prickle Kate's skin. Her feet plodded along, her mind somewhere else. Not somewhere else, sometime else. Last night.
She'd said goodnight to Jack and headed to her tent when she'd heard the wail. A long, piteous cry that turned the very marrow of her bones cold. For the briefest of moments, it made her think of Sawyer. She'd been frozen in her place, but Jack buzzing past her jerked her into motion. A figure was spotted far down the beach, stumbling, then finally falling to its knees. Jack made it to him first, and Kate slowed as she reached him.
He was clutching his abdomen, and a slow pool of blood extended around him. Jack knelt in it, oblivious. Kate had seen this man before on the island, he was young and attractive. But tonight, the moon cast an eerie green glow over them, and the hideous contortion of the man's face made a lump of horror rise in Kate's throat. His mouth stretched open, but no sound escaped from the hell inside of him.
"Damn." Jack had growled, and Kate looked from the man's twisted face to his body. Jack had ripped open his shirt; blood covered most of his chest, but three gaping, black tears could be seen. They were each five inches long, and torn wide cleanly. The man's fingers clawed at them, and he pushed against the ground with his feet, arching his back against the convulsions of pain. Jack threw his whole weight on the man's arms to hold him down.
"Kate! Kate!" Jack screamed at her, and her eyes finally met his. "Help!" So, even with bile rising in her throat, she threw herself on the man's other arm to hold him down. His ragged breathing resounded in her ear. She felt as if she had no strength to hold down even a dying man.
A grotesque sound of bubbling thick blood gurgled in the man's throat before the silence of the night pervaded.
"No, no!" Jack said soundly, then whispered the plea a few more times before hanging his head in defeat.
"Damn." Jack's voice cracked a little, but he stood, blood dripping from his fingertips. Kate looked up at him in a mixture of awe and fear.
"Are you okay?"
Kate found her voice for the first time. "What happened to him?" She whispered as she looked to the man's face, his eyes glazed and wide, finding no peace even in death.
"It looks like axe wounds."
"Axe wounds?" Kate did not realize she said.
Jack stopped a few yards ahead of her and waited for her to catch up. When she was close enough, he said her name.
"Huh?"
"Yeah, Riley was hit with an axe twice in the chest and once in the stomach."
"Oh, yeah. I was just thinking. We found him at the South side of the beach. The nearest tent would've been-"
"Sawyer's." His lips tightened. "I know, I've thought about that."
"Do you think…" She couldn't finish the question.
"I don't know." Jack whispered, his eyes raking across her face and neck. "Come on." He said finally, turning away to lead her on to the caves.
Kate felt suddenly sick to her stomach. Her head spun and before she knew it, she saw the sky, and the grass tickled her ears.
"Kate!" Jack exclaimed, bounding back to her, taking her face in his hands. She was burning up. He just grit his teeth and gathered her into his arms. Her fingers wound absently around the string on his neck and the thin shirt on his chest, even in unconsciousness.
He set her down on his bed and grabbed his water bottle to dump the cool liquid over her forehead and hair. She took in a deep breath and stopped shivering. Jack wiped the excess drops off her brow, and traced the wetness down her cheek and into the hair above her ear. Here she stirred, reaching up for his hand. He fought the urge to draw away.
Kate's eyes fluttered open as her hand clamped around Jack's wrist, and she groaned in pain and put her hands to her eyes.
The nausea returned when she woke, and she slapped a hand over her mouth to suppress the gag as she scrambled out of the cave. Jack was beside her in a flash, supporting her body and gathering her hair from her face. She vomited once, and coughed for a few minutes. Jack's hands traveled from the small of her back to her neck and back down again slowly. Kate drew in a ragged breath and chanced a nervous laugh at herself.
"This is stupid."
"No, it's not. Your body is under too much stress. Not enough sleep or food and too much excitement takes a heavy toll. Come back to bed, now, Kate."
"I can't. I can't move right now." She murmured piteously, and Jack released her hair, letting it fall heavily back about her shoulders.
"Okay. Stay right here, I'll get you some water." He was gone from her side, and Kate was thankful that she was guided into a relatively secluded area behind Jack's cave to dispose of her meager breakfast.
"Psst." A harsh whisper shot from the jungle. Kate looked up wearily, with mild curiosity.
"Kate. Kate. Freckles!" Sawyer finally growled. "C'mere."
Her curiosity rose, and Kate wobbly got to her feet and stepped a few yards into denser trees. Sawyer grabbed her arm forcefully and swung her around to bounce into his chest. He held her there and looked into her eyes for a moment. His cool blue eyes were alive with an intense fire of strange origin. He looked almost mad, and Kate tried backing away, but his strong hands held her to him.
"Sawyer, what's going on?" A whisper was all she could muster.
His mouth moved as if he were to speak, but he just shook his head in defeat and stitched his brow. Sawyer swallowed hard and sunk to the ground, taking Kate with him. She sat sort of in front of him, sort of to the side. He kept a hand around her forearm. She let him keep it there. Weariness or want, she hadn't the mind to wonder.
"I was asleep." Sawyer murmured in a soft tone, so low Kate leaned in unconsciously to hear.
"What?"
"He woke me up. I fell asleep next to the wood pile. Was dreamin' some awful stuff, and he just shook me so hard. He cursed at me when I threw him off me. 'What the fuck is wrong with you?' It's what he always said to me. I could swear to God it was him. I could swear to…" Here he drifted off, his voice getting tight and breaking until he buried his face in his hands. Kate had been released, but she got up on her knees and inched closer to him, hands hovering over his.
Kate was torn between pity and horror. Deep down, though all the signs pointed to him, Kate never seriously entertained the idea that Sawyer could have killed Riley. Despite his past and his appearance, the Sawyer she knew wasn't capable of any sort of physical violence.
Sawyer jerked his hands away, grabbing her shoulders roughly, shaking her once.
"You can't say anything. You can't! They'll burn me at the stake! You can't tell them! Don't tell him!"
"Sawyer, I-"
"No! Kate!" He yelled, his face too close to hers, and shook her again. The wide eyed look was back, and Kate was actually concerned for her safety.
"Stop it! Sawyer!" Kate tried screaming, but her words were breathless and soft. She felt as if she were living a nightmare. You know the ones. Something horrible is happening and you want to scream, but you just can't. There was nothing she could do.
Feebly, she tried pushing him away, slapping and punching at his chest with her wobbly arms.
"You can't!" He growled, his fingers digging into her flesh, and he tossed her effortlessly backwards, where she stumbled over a branch and fell, knocking her head against the trunk of a tree behind her.
Kate groaned, a bright white flash burst before her eyes, then darkness for a moment before her head began to throb. Once she regained movement in her arms, she lifted a hand to feel warm blood matting her hair. She was immobile for only a moment, because she squinted her eyes open to see Sawyer advancing upon her.
"Say it! Tell me you won't say anything! You can't, Freckles! They'll kill me!" He demanded, but his voice held no plea in it. It was fury, white hot hatred. Kate had the good sense, ironically, to wonder for a moment just what the hell had gotten into him. She never thought Sawyer could ever make her feel this…this terror.
He straddled her torso, and the deepest sort of fear kicked adrenaline through her veins. Kate's legs thrashed and her voice returned in a piercing scream which was cut short by Sawyer's big hands clamping over her mouth and nose. She grabbed his forearms, scratching and clawing, fighting for the air he cut her from.
It was only 30 seconds before Kate's vision began to fog around the edges. Sawyer's face, contorted in rage, was fading, getting further away. Kate was almost relieved.
But before he faded into complete blackness, she saw another figure leap onto him, knock him off her. Kate rolled onto her side, sucking in a large gulp of air and coughing it out. She breathed in quick gasps then, and the sound of a fist connecting with a jaw made her roll over again and watch the fight from the ground.
Jack had punched Sawyer in the face, sending him stumbling back. He lost his footing in the vines and went down, falling onto a jutting boulder behind him. His neck landed on the point of the boulder, snapping it instantly. Sawyer rolled off limply and did not move. Jack blinked in bewilderment, anger still present in his eyes, and his chest heaved.
Kate did not comprehend the events that had just occurred before her dizzy eyes. Jack stepped warily to Sawyer's side and crouched. His back was to her, and he blocked her view of what he was doing, but somehow, through the haze she knew he was checking for a pulse.
The sick sound Jack made then was an indication of only the worst.
"Jack?" Kate croaked, throat sore from coughing. Jack snapped his head up and stood, walking slowly to her, and crouching again. She was lying on her back, hands placed calmly on her chest, her head turned toward him.
"Hey sweetie." He whispered affectionately, and only then did tears spring into her eyes. "Come on." Scooping her into his arms, Jack carried Kate to his bed for the second time that day. Her arms were wrapped tightly about his neck, her face tucked safely close to his body. There she clung for dear life. The danger was over, but Kate's safety was not yet guaranteed. If Jack had released her then, she may have fallen off the edge of the world, into the pits of hell, to wither her soul and never see the beauty of the moon or stars ever again.
Before she knew it, she was placed onto blankets, cold compared to Jack's body. The makeshift cot seemed more comfortable than anything she'd ever felt. Jack's presence was gone for a moment, and his low voice mingled with Sayid's for a moment, before she felt Jack re enter. He knelt beside her.
"Are you alright, Kate?"
Kate's eyes blurred, then focused on Jack's. Her chin trembled, and she shook her head. Burying her face in the pillow, Kate's small frame was racked with sobs. Jack leaned down, pressing his mouth onto the hair that had fallen onto her neck. It made Kate cry harder, so he slid down beside her, wrapping his arms around her as she balled her fists in his shirt and pressed a knee between his.
When her tears were spent, Jack pulled back, pulling up the collar of her shirt to dab her cheeks. She chanced a chuckle, which was more of a sob.
"Is he-?"
"Yeah." Jack cut her off, not wanting her to have to say the word.
Kate's eyelids slid shut, and she leaned her forehead into the hollow of his neck. "I'm sorry." She mumbled.
"It's not your fault."
"I know. But I'm still sorry."
"Me too."
Kate wrapped an arm around his torso.
"Sleep." Jack commanded softly, but Kate had already fallen.
Her breathing evened, he felt her chest move against his, in time with him. Things that would come had no affect on him now. Deliriousness invaded, exhaustion, guilt, grief, or pleasure, he could not, did not want to discern.
The afternoon sun toasted the air, making it heavy. But they were hidden far into Jack's home, far from the din of voices, shovels cutting dirt, the sun casting light and shadows. It was cooler there, soothing the hue of their cheeks.
It was so good to hold someone while on the verge of sleep. Jack had forgotten how it felt. The hard cot that mangled his spine for forty days was suddenly the King sized canopy bed mattress he'd dreamed of. Jack closed his eyes for a moment. His brain was shutting down. It had started the moment he heard the crack of Sawyer's bones against the rock. Now, with Kate's body warming every inch of his, exhaustion pervaded once again.
He pulled her closer. The texture and shape of her body. It drowned the events of the past twelve hours. Now there was only her. He knew it wouldn't last, but he didn't care at that moment. He fell into the deepest sleep he'd ever known.
Sayid took a step into the cave a few minutes later, dirt smudged in the sweat on his brow. Still a bit breathless, he opened his mouth to inform Jack of the completed task, but closed it again upon observing the true nature of the sleeping pair. He tilted his head a bit to the side. They reminded him of him and Shannon, with a slight wince.
They were entwined in such a way that no force of nature or otherwise could be able to separate them. Clinging as close as they could, saving each other. Drowning in each other. A strange smile threatened to touch the Iraqi's lips. The foulness of the day did not outstrip the affection he physically felt emanating from them. Perhaps the foulness of the day was indeed the cause of the affection that was thick in the cool air of the cave.
Whatever the case may be, they needed this, everyone knew. Sayid walked away, stashing the shovel in its proper place, leaning against a tree. Washing his face, Sayid walked to the beach, contemplating what would come. Contemplating what had been. New days were coming to the island. A new kind of unorganized order. What they'd built thus far had been torn down. Maybe it was better that way, maybe they'd been too flawed before. The island brought out deeper flaws in some, and cleansed others. He didn't question it. It just was.
He could feel it. They all could feel it, now. New days were coming.
This sucker was pumped out in approximately 2.5 days. I do not intend on continuing it. I just had to get this darkness out of me, and I love writing about the Losties. Sorry I made Sawyer a murderer then had him killed. But it just had to happen. You'll understand when you're older. :)
Review, please. This is a strange story for me, I hope you liked it.
-Austin B.
