Runner

Part Two

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews!

Jack's eyes scanned the beach, hand cupped over them to block out the unfamiliar blinding sunlight. Many days down in the hatch watching over Henry meant depriving himself of natural necessaties, such as sunlight...and company. Which is what he was looking for now. Kate, in-particular. After witnessing her escape- her run- from the hatch, Jack was sure that she was angry with him. Angry with him for being with Libby at the time she wanted to talk to him. Her time. Like their old conversations at the end of the day, small talk with a calming atmosphere that would relinquish the day's exhaust. It'd be tensious at first, but then they'd both ease into it. They'd smile, laugh, and suddenly it'd be like there wasn't any real danger around them. In those minutes, it was gone. And Jack wanted that back. Not with Libby. With Kate.

At last he found her. Sitting alone on the shores of the island's unpredictable waters, Kate was watching sand seep through her hand, letting it drip down onto her knee. She'd wipe the excess water off her kakis, but ignored any stain it left. She didn't even appear to notice it.

Looking down, Jack momentarily pondered approaching her. He didn't expect to find her like this. He expect to see her as he was so use to seeing- standing in the shallow turf, or at least acknowledging the waves. But now it seemed to be all about the sand, and Jack couldn't help but to search for a hidden meaning in that. Maybe the sand was supposed to represent the two of them- when you held it in your hands it looked like there was so many possibilities. It could be sculptured, made into a flawless work of art. Maybe even prize winning. But if you just let it sit there, staring at it, thinking of the possibilities...it began seeping through, escaping. Running.

And that's when Jack swallowed his nerves, and walked towards her. Anyone in his path quickly scurried out of the way, as if it was an all around known fact that this was important. It had to happen, for the sake of the two of them. All of them, really. Because they all knew that when it came right down to it, if there was no Jack and Kate, there was no Jack or Kate. The two were like a set pair, weaved together. But the threads were now left in some kind of a beautiful mess, and someone had to clean it up.

"If you want to make a sandcastle," Jack began, appearing next to her. He watched carefully for a reaction, and as he expected- hoped- Kate tensed slightly at his voice. At his presence. "It might help if you had some shovels."

"Too bad those were the only things Dharma didn't provide," Kate joked lightly. Jack felt a sense of relief. He half-expected her not to answer. "And imagine, we're on an island."

Not only did she answer, but she looked up- and smiled. The ocean seemed to take on a whole new light just then, glowing with the sunlight, finally becoming the picture one would imagine it to be. But it still wasn't quite paradise. Not yet. Jack sat down, lowering himself next to her. Kate didn't protest. He knew she wouldn't. He knew that, secretly, she wanted this conversation as much as he did.

"So where's Libby?"

Jack flinched a little at the question, striking him as an unwanted personal blow.

"Still in the hatch," Jack forced himself to reply, slightly surprised words came out. The jokes were gone, and now the true reason of his visit came back into play. God, he thought, there had to be a reason now. "I guess your clothes will be ready soon."

Kate paused for a moment, as if waiting for him to say more before replying. Jack felt the urge to look at her, at least steal a glance for a reaction, but held back. After this, he was sure there'd be plenty of time for looks- shared exchanges, this time. At least, he hoped so. Man did he hope so.

"Yeah," Kate whispered, "guess so."

Moments passed. Waves crashed, illuminating their former glow. The sand remained by the shore, awaiting to allow itself to be caught and swept away. Sinking. A knot formed in Jack's throat.

"Kate, I-"

"Don't."

She looked at him. Not smiling. Eyes not glowing. Hurt. And Jack returned the looking. Pleading. Desperate.

"I don't want you to apologize for something I did," Kate finished quietly, diverting her eyes to the ground where they remained. She stared there for awhile, and Jack knew she was waiting for it to form words for her. Jack had played that game before.

He realized too late that he was studying her now. Looking for those nervous mechanisms, the ones he never saw in her. Or refused to see. But sure enough, they were there in Kate's own, hidden, way. A distant look to hide the story that was so carefully painted there. Catching a strand of lose hair only to hold it in her fingers a while longer. Long pauses. The funny thing was, Jack could only recall witnessing these mechanisms whenever they were alone. When he was there. It was reliving, almost, to realize this.

"I run, Jack," he heard Kate say softly.

"Kate-"

The urge to help her came over him again. It made him feel guilty, but he wanted to at least help her say what she needed to say.

"Don't, Jack," Kate said again, more forcefully this time, "please, can't you just-"

"I'm not going to go," Jack cut in, erasing her statement before it even left her lips.

The statement that scared him, terrifying him and leaving him fearful of ever hoping for another chance like this. He knew Kate wanted this. She just had to. Jack swallowed hard.

"I don't care that you run," Jack said, looking at her carefully, wishing she would turn to him so that he would know she was listening. Know that she understood. "And I hate to break it to you, but I'm not as perfect as you think I am."

As flattering as it was, as much as he'd like Kate to believe it, Jack knew that was the truth. And after all, the truth was supposed to set you free. He did care that she ran, but he knew there was a reason. And if she thought he didn't care, and they could fix this, maybe- just maybe- there wouldn't have to be a reason anyway.

Kate looked at him again, eyes becoming softer, but like the ocean's picture- which now seemed distant though it was right next to them- it wasn't quite perfect yet.

"You don't know the things I've done," she whispered, whispering it because it was hard for her. Whispering it because it was true. Jack knew this, and he meant it when he said:

"I don't care."

Her eyes were softer now, hopeful. And as their eyes met, it was like something clicked. The light-bulb went off. A smile formed on the writer's face as he realized his mistake. Fixed his problem. Because Jack really didn't care. He wanted this so much- the grateful, amazing them- that he didn't care. Jack was well aware that Kate's past held her back, motivating decisions, guiding her way through the horrific tunnel of darkness. A tunnel that would never light up. Not unless those decisions could be motivated by something new. Something that told her that redemption wasn't such a crazy thing to ask for. Something...or someone. And then, by that law, the grateful, amazing, them could become an us.

He contemplated kissing her again then, bringing that smile back and taking the remaining uncertainty out of her eyes. Taking her in his arms and telling her that he meant it. That this could work. But kissing her again would be a whole new thing, a new thing that would be his decision. So Jack held back, in fear of ruining things. He let Kate make the move. Waited to see what she would do. Waited in both fear and curiosity. Would she run? Determined to hide his nerves, Jack concentrated on their held glance, waiting to she what she would do. And at last she made her move. She kissed him.

Only on the cheek, softly, she kissed his briefly in a stroke of thanks; but then she paused, and brushed her lips against his. The kiss came light, in more graceful strokes, forming that beautiful them. Carefully he placed his hand on her shoulder, steadying themselves against the tide that leaped at their feet. But as soon as she felt the touch Kate shivered, and pulled away in surprise. As he watched her back away, Jack knew this was a warning to be more careful of his boundaries.

"I'm sorry," Kate whispered.

"Don't apologize for something I did," Jack mocked lightly.

And there it was again. The smile. Jack gratefully returned it, gazing into Kate's eyes, amazed that just a few minutes ago, he doubted fearfully she would object.

"My clothes should be ready now," Kate said quietly, looking down.

She didn't stand up, even at her parting words. And Jack knew, this wasn't an excuse. Just a fact. He let out a breath he had been holding.

"I was thinking," Kate swallowed. Those mechanisms. "Maybe.." she trailed off, nerves eating her. Jack had to smile, because he knew that Kate wasn't the one to get nervous.

"I'd love to," he finished for her.

It took all he had to refrain from grinning like an idiot. Teenage days of dating are over, he reminded himself as he stood up, and reached down to help Kate. Then again, those years stretched on, becoming nothing but a grief of constant denial, let downs, failures. A friend here, a friend there. Only one good friend.

Now there was Kate, someone he met just months ago. Someone who cared. He knew she did. She came back to the hatch looking for him, after all. Just knowing they could be together- that this them could exsist- it was both amazing and unsettling at the same time. But as they walked away from the shore, finding themselves lured into a familiar sense of conversation, Jack's smile lingered on, feeling that all was complete. Us. Them. The pictures. The paintings. It was finally, dare he say it, paradise. Complete and awaiting. Because Kate was standing here, walking beside him. Because though they seemed to be moving both fast and slow at the same time, in an odd way, it all made sense. Because Kate had just sat there, listening to him, believing him. Because in time, they could truly be together, with no more running.