Lost and its characters belong to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot, and the rest of The Others. I'm borrowing for some giddy weirdness, I hope you like it.

Not Quite Romeo and Juliet
By Mystic
February 3rd 2006
Life on the island had been simple. All the boundaries that normally stood around them, confining them, were broken down and they mingled. Jack mingled. He made friends with people he would never have met, never given the time of day. He made friends with an outlaw. A girl named Kate Austen who had a secret past he didn't want to know about. A girl on the run for a murder she swore she had good reason to commit.

He loved this girl.

They'd sat together on a beach, his blood trickling into the broken skin on her hands and he recounted for her the scariest moment in his life and her fingers had kneaded into his flesh, almost comfortingly. He remembered they were warm: left palm held flat against his skin, moving carefully around his wound; her right occasionally brushing, sticking and sliding off as she ran the needle through and through again.

"I still remember being scared," she'd tell him when he'd ask her if she remembered. They'd sit, her between his legs, her back pressed up against his chest, and he'd brush his fingers along her arms as they took in the warmth of the fire at night. "If I screwed up…" she'd trail.

It was her only fear, he realized after a very long time, disappointing him. Jack had painted a picture of his life as one of privilege. And it was. He'd grown up with money, his parents both giving him everything he needed to become the best doctor. They paid for him to attend the best schools, they bought him the best books and the best equipment.

Kate had grown up on dusty roads with splinters dug deep in her hands and bruises hiding under long sleeves. Her mother worked all day and all night; her father away with the military – abandoning her to the care of her step-father who told her she wasn't worth anything, told her she was nothing but trouble. Kate had a lot of dreams, a lot of plans, and the worst of them damned her for life.

"Do you love me?" He'd asked her on a hot night. They were standing just outside the hatch, their shift just starting. Jack had watched Hurley and John walk past them with nothing more than a nod of their heads, exhausted.

Kate had jerked sharply, her foot kicking a rock against the metal door. "What?"

"Do you love me?" Jack smiled, watching the way she fidgeted. Her eyes darted away as she chewed the inside of her cheek and fumbled for words. "It's not that hard Kate. Do. You. Love. Me."

She headed into the hatch, her feet dragging against the ground before she kicked off her boots at the end of the long hall and moved towards the shower. "I'm going…" she started, but he caught her elbow, pulling her back around.

Jack remembered seeing her eyes brighten, glisten, and he felt his heart break for her. "Is it really that hard?"

"I can't love you," she'd told him, her voice weak.

He put his other hand on her shoulder, giving her a rub that made her eyes close. "What are you so afraid of?"

"I'll screw it up," she admitted. "I'll make a mistake and you won't forgive me." Her eyes met his. "I couldn't take that again. Not from you."

Jack nodded, understanding well enough and he'd bent forward, kissing her gently, pulling away and waiting for her to meet him. His eyes shut as she came closer, her top lip brushing his bottom one and then she pushed into him with a moan, her hands grabbing at his sides. He felt her tongue fight against his lips and he let her slip inside.

He made love to her on the couch, some ridiculous record playing reggae music around them. When it was over, she'd nodded her head at him, her lips whispering the words, "I do love you, Jack."

She'd never been able to say it aloud. Jack didn't think she'd ever be able and he accepted it. It was a flaw he couldn't fix. She was the flaw he couldn't fix in himself. Some days he couldn't understand why they had a connection, why he gravitated towards her even when he was angry with her.

Couldn't understand why even after the rescue, after she went back on the run when they finally discovered the falsification of her passport, after he found out what she did, he still gravitated. He searched her out, found her in dark alleyways and pressed her hard against wet bricks and felt the soles of his feet slip against the sleek cement as he buried himself into her.

He tried to make it work. Tried to tell her he had lawyers who would fight for her. They would lie together in motel bedrooms with the lights turned off and she'd cry into his shoulder and he'd comfort her. Hold her as tightly as he could and ask her, "You remember when we first met?"

"I remember being scared," she'd always say.

Jack wondered if she'd been scared when she died. He held a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a small pistol in the other. Leaning his head against the wooden back of the pew in front of him, he half wondered where the hell the priests were. Wasn't someone supposed to come in and tell him suicide was a sin?

He chuckled to himself. He'd learned a lot about sin while he'd been with her.

But he wasn't there for her. He was there for what he'd become. Jack was a shell of the man he'd been on the island. Lost without any real purpose. On the island he'd become a leader, he'd become a real doctor, a loving man, a friend. Back home he'd gone from hero to has-been as soon as the next big story rolled around. He had to relearn his trade, finding new techniques he couldn't wrap his head around. Technology doubled over a few times since he'd gone.

His hands had started to shake in the operating room and he didn't know why. All he knew is he couldn't count the fear away anymore. Jack couldn't sleep when he got home. His mind filled with questions left unanswered, so many questions he didn't think to ask, questions and guilt and nightmares. He felt his eyes squeeze together tightly and he tapped the gun against the pew softly.

"You know, killing yourself in a church isn't really the best idea."

Jack's head came up quickly and he turned around, seeing her standing just behind him. She smiled weakly at him, her hand reaching out and taking the gun from him, putting it down into her waistband at her back. Jack felt his mouth open slightly and he rose slowly, his eyes remaining on hers as she nodded slowly, assuringly.

"How?" He asked, the question never truly finishing itself.

"Sayid helped me set up a wireless microphone system."

"Won't they…" he pointed, his eyes glancing somewhere beyond her.

She shook her head. "Everything was incinerated in the fire."

"You planned it," Jack said, understanding.

Kate gave a quick nod and put her hands together, rubbing away at what looked like slight burns and scrapes. "I knew the only way to end it was to die." She lowered her chin. "So I died."

Jack took a step closer to her, inhaling smoke and beach, just like on the island.

"Scoped out the place for a few weeks, knew that if it caught fire, there'd be nothing. The fire would be so intense even bones would be reduced to ashes. All they needed to think was that I was inside at the time. So I called Sayid. I stood outside, within a hundred meter range, and I told them not to come any closer, that I had a bomb. Told them I was tired of running." Kate paused and shrugged. "I made sure they didn't go inside and I hit the trigger. Loved the irony of it."

"You're insane." Jack laughed, hearing it echo through the church.

Kate smirked, her eyes meeting his and she sniffled. "I have to disappear for good though."

He nodded, "You came to say good-bye."

Biting her bottom lip, she didn't nod or shake her head, just stared up at him. "I don't want you to do something you're not willing to do, but I have to ask…"

Jack slid his hand along the skin of her neck, holding the base of her skull and bringing her to him gently, kissing her. He felt her hands touch him delicately at his sides, as if testing the waters and she pulled away.

"You couldn't look back," she breathed against his chin.

"I'm as good as dead to this world anyways," he sighed back.

With a nod, she took his hand and lead him out of the church. Jack and Kate disappeared to an island that wasn't on any map. An island that had become home. And they lived happily ever after.

Finis