Thank you all for the reviews. You're so sweet.
Sawyer, Kate and Sayid walked in silence. There was a different rhythm to every step they took. They were almost home-free. They could taste it. Sayid took point, while Sawyer and Kate straggled behind him…Kate kept eyeing Sawyer, who was completely oblivious to the attention that she was giving him. Things had ended so terribly between them, and she figured they would. It hadn't stopped her from using him, from distracting herself from Jack by sleeping with him. It wasn't fair.
"I'm sorry." Kate said. Sawyer looked over at her, not sure if she was addressing him. But seeing as he was the only one around, she must have been.
"For what?" Sawyer asked.
"For hurting you." Kate admitted.
"You didn't hurt me, Freck—" Sawyer started.
"Yes I did." Kate interrupted him. "You had genuine feelings for me and I took advantage of them. I was hurt about Jack and you were there…" She sucked in a breath, finding her errors in judgment and measures to heal truly appalling.
"I'm sorry, James." Kate said, her eyes sad, yet hopeful that he truly heard the words and felt their sincerity.
"I always knew that he was the only one you wanted." Sawyer said, a bit of sadness in his voice, mixed intimately with acceptance. "I could see it the first time I saw you two together. I guess the challenge for me was seeing if I could change your mind and piss off the Doc in the process."
Sawyer chucked as he spoke, making Kate smile, "And here you are, marching through the jungle for the millionth time, head-on into danger, because you can't live without him and here he is, wherever he is, because he can't live without you." He said that last part seriously, locking eyes with her.
"Even though he saw us?" Kate asked. He knew what she was referring to. The cages. He could see the devastation in her face.
"Even though he saw us." Sawyer said with confidence. "The Doc is one stubborn son of a bitch, but he never let up on loving you and I doubt he ever will. You deserve to be forgiven, Kate. We both do."
Kate looked down at her feet then, biting her lower lip impishly. He smiled at the smitten blush of her cheeks. She was no longer running from what she wanted. She would tell Jack that it was a mistake, that she loved him, always had, always will. She'd be honest. She'd take the hit. She'd get him back. She always did. And finally, Sawyer had no problem with that.
He nodded, looking ahead as he said it, "I'm happy for you."
"I'm happy for you, too." Kate said.
"What?" Sawyer asked, confused.
"You and Juliet." Kate clarified. "The moment I interrupted between the two of you by the stream, how she didn't want you to go. It's pretty obvious."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Sawyer said, scoffing.
"Uh-huh." Kate said, laughing as he sped up to evade her meddling. That told her everything she needed to know. While she and Juliet weren't friends, she acknowledged and respected the strong woman she was. Jealousy at what she and Jack might have shared both on the island and off was fading, because she knew that what she shared with him traversed time, space, and any boundary that fell between them. It was stronger than any force she'd ever known. Nothing could keep them apart, and at the end of the day, for her, nothing ever would.
Suddenly, Sayid wasn't walking anymore. He was looking down at something in the grass, frozen in place.
"Sayid, what's wrong?" Kate asked. He didn't answer.
They caught up to him, and took in what had captured his attention and enlivened his curiosity. The mass grave of decayed bodies in a heaping pile within a square hole in the ground.
Sayid kneeled next to it, his eyes peeling the scene. "What is this?"
"A bunch of deader than dead bastards in a hole in the ground, what does it look like?" Sawyer asked sarcastically, garnering an annoyed glance from Sayid, who looked over at Kate, who must have crossed paths with this communal burial site a million times due to her lack of a reaction.
Only it didn't look like a burial ground, but the wartime results of genocide. He'd seen this all too often during his time as a soldier. Only the bodies were fresh, new kills that the oppressed villagers had nothing more to do with than throw into a ditch in the ground to rid the village of the rancid smell of rotting flesh. He couldn't imagine the pain they felt, of having to drop their loved ones' last remains into what was certainly a dump for the dead, because any kind of service in their honor would only lead to more fear and terror than they were already dealing with.
Sayid pointed. "Look at the emblems on their clothing. They were a part of the DHARMA Initiative."
"Why do I get the feelin' that DHARMA wasn't exactly a peace-keepin' enterprise?" Sawyer asked.
"I don't know, and I don't care." Kate said, grabbing Sawyer and Sayid's attention from the grave site. "Cabin is this way," she angled her head to a path she'd stomped out through the trees. "Let's go."
On the other end of the Island, intent on reaching the cabin before sundown, Ben, Tom, Mikhail and Richard marched forth.
The silence was palpable. The only time anyone spoke was when Richard was forced to give the proper directions to the cabin. He was bound by the hands with a thick band of rope, any scheme at strong-arming his way to freedom thwarted before he could even think of it. His ankles were also bound by rope, providing enough space between them to walk without tripping over.
Running away was out of the question as well. There was Mikhail, who roughly pushed him along, breathing down his neck like the guard-dog he was. Where would he go if he were to escape? The cabin was in the middle of the jungle, secluded and hard to find. Jacob created it for that reason, to be in the open, but cloaked at the same time, which was why it made for such a good safehouse. To Richard's knowledge, only he and Jacob knew where it was and how to get to it. Anyone else who knew was most likely dead.
He was hot, panting his way through the humidity and the extra effort it took him to keep up. He eyed Ben occasionally, wondering what he'd done wrong to turn this once sweet man into a malicious, scheming maniac. Yes, maniac. There was no other label he found more fitting.
"Is there something you'd like to say, Richard?" Ben asked out of nowhere, but didn't break stride through the jungle.
Richard, a bit startled, panted the words. "Course correction."
That stopped Ben dead in his tracks. Mikhail and Tom stopped as well, to look at Richard for an explanation.
"What?" Ben asked.
"Everything that's supposed to happen, happens. Nothing is more powerful than fate, not even you, not even Jacob. You want something that is not meant to be yours, Ben. Do you know how dangerous that is? Especially here?" Richard grimaced as he was suddenly pushed to his knees by Mikhail, who had heard enough.
Ben smirked. "Mikhail, I think we should have gagged him before we left his camp. Do it now. We'll untie it when we need the next set of directions."
"Course correction is inherent to the Island's very being. You can't do this, Ben. It's not allowed!" Richard screamed quickly, as Mikhail readied the cloth to tie over his mouth. "Jacob has already found a way to stop you!"
"Shut up." Mikhail warned, finally securing the cloth over Richard's mouth and began to tie it when he heard Ben call out.
"Wait." Ben walked over to him, with Tom following close behind. Mikhail released the cloth from over Richard's mouth.
"Well, trusted advisor, tell me. What has Jacob done to stop me?"
"I don't know, but something. I can feel it. I'm trying to help you, Ben. Your plan won't work." Richard warned him for what would be the last time.
Ben stared blankly for awhile, which led way to sudden and uproarious laughter. "Is that supposed to work on me a second time? These convenient feelings you get, about Locke and now, about Jacob, and what he's supposedly planning? You stood there and ordered Locke's death, because you've lost touch with any sense of what Jacob wanted."
Richard nodded, hanging his head low in shame. "You're right and I will take any and all punishment that is doled my way because of it, but you're wrong about my having lost touch. You…" He lifted his head, staring into the eyes of the man he once considered a friend, but was now nothing more than a murdering thief.
"You lost touch so long ago, you can't even see the line between what's possible and what isn't. You send Jack Shephard home, and you expect what? An open road to the Island with no consequences?"
"Yes, Richard. That pretty much sums up the nuts and bolts of my master plan." Ben confessed sarcastically.
"Did you honestly believe that Jacob didn't have a back-up plan in the event of your betrayal? And a back-up plan for his back-up plan? You were banking on him never finding out until the moment you found and killed him, but that was only the first mistake you made."
He was pushed down again by Mikhail, harder this time, his shoulder crashing into the ground. He groaned in pain, but he continued to stand his ground, still bowed over the jungle floor, breathing heavily.
"For every single move you've made, he's made five. Everything you think you know about protecting this Island, about taking it, you don't. Do you really think Jacob is going to be sitting in that cabin, with his feet up, waiting on you to kill him, to destroy the Island and everyone on it?" Richard then noticed the antennae of the walkie-talkie sticking out of Ben's pocket. Ben followed his eyes to the device.
"How long before you're out of range?" He could see his answer in Ben's eyes. "You haven't been able to contact Pryce for miles. So, he would have no idea if I just stopped telling you where to go."
Ben knelt down next to him. "You really want to bet your people's lives on that?"
Richard shifted himself on the ground, to give himself a better vantage point for looking Ben in the eyes. "Don't you mean what's left of my people?"
"I have no interest in harming the rest of your group, Richard. None whatsoever. They were only useful as leverage to get you to tell me what I want to know."
"You said you didn't want to know how I killed John Locke, but I think you should hear it once and for all. I sent him a gift in the form of a ragging black cloud of smoke." The look of horror in Richard's eyes was one triumph of many in Ben's view.
"I let Jacob's pet do the job for me. I already have my foot in the door of what is rightfully mine. The Monster takes my commands now, takes my need for vengeance and runs with it. It never did that for you and it never will." Ben kept going.
"And you want to know what tipped the balance between letting John Locke live or die? My own daughter." Ben's eyes swelled with sadness, as his voice slightly cracked at the thought of his last moments with Alex. "She loves that bastard more than she loves me! I raised her, and yes, I might not have been the best father in the world, but I was all she had, she was all I had, but not anymore. John Locke took everything from me, but he won't take this."
"You're insane. You're gonna get us all killed." Richard said.
"You've had all the time in the world and then some anyways, right? Lived thousands and thousands of years. It's what we all want, really, even if we don't say it out loud. Eternal youth. Everlasting life. That was the curse that Jacob burdened you with and it's the first one I'll lift." Richard's eyes rounded, unsure of what Ben was talking about.
"Your time is up, Richard." Ben's voice was almost sweet, dotting, like he was putting down a puppy he'd come to love, but a crazed spirit ran through his eyes as he said it. He brought his hand down to Richard's shoulder, cupping it affectionately. "You and Jacob are going to die together, just like I always planned."
Richard could only stare at him, astonished, chilled to the bone and most of all, broken. He had given it all he could. Ben was crazy and trying to tell him anything at this point was useless. He was beyond saving. He was beyond wanting to be saved.
Ben stood. "Now get up. You still have work to do."
The group gathered themselves for the path, while Alex, perched above them, hidden in the shadows of the leaves, watched intently. Once Ben and the others were out of earshot, she stumbled back, almost falling to the ground before she caught her balance.
She didn't know what she'd discover when she decided to track her father to where he, Mikhail and Tom ran off to, but she never expected to hear how her father planned to kill Jacob, to take his place. She never expected to hear that Locke was dead, that Ben had him killed, and one of the reasons being that she told him that she ran away to find Locke. Guilt and disgust wracked her. She started to cry, slow, and then she found herself wailing, trying to restrain how loud she got as much as possible, but finding it too much for her body to take.
Eventually, she pulled herself together, wiping at her face with one hand while hauling her pack over her shoulder with the other. She was ready to catch up when a large hand clamped down roughly over her mouth, stopping her in her tracks. She immediately started to scream, kick and throw her fists, but she was just too small to make an impact. Her muffled cries for help were no match for the strength of her offender, who, in spite of her resistance, dragged her away with very little effort.
"How are you here?" Christian asked.
Reading the intimation in his father's tone, Jack started to panic. What did he mean by the question? Here was the Island, right? Of course it was, wasn't it? He started to think through it. His father was dead, and was suddenly appearing to him, actively came to him. He could see him, and if he tried, he knew that if he reached out, he would be able to touch him. Maybe this was the afterlife, or some go-between to it. Oh God, Jack thought. What if he was….?
He could barely summon the thought without feeling wracked by a tidal wave of grief and sadness, unbearable pain, but he had to get it out.
"I died too?" Jack asked, tears blurring his vision.
"No." Christian said quickly, stepping closer to his confused and emotionally tormented son. "You are very much alive, son."
"I don't understand." Was all Jack could say. His voice was so broken, and sounded so small. He still marveled his father's presence, staring at the man he'd been born to follow, to trust, to respect and to become.
Christian gestured around them, hoping it would help. "How did you get here?"
"The caves." Jack said, taking a deep breath as he looked around, shaving away at the overgrowth to recall how it looked before they abandoned it for the hatch. Everything was so much simpler back then. Black and white even. "I don't know."
He really had no idea. One minute, he was with Kate, in her arms, at the end of her touch, then suddenly he wasn't. He wanted to burn Jacob for doing this to him. To answer his father's question, he thought it best to start from the top, from what he could actually remember and comprehend. It was easier than trying to explain everything else, anything else.
"I got on a plane, to come back here." He swallowed hard, emotions choking him. "There was a storm. I was trying to get us out of it and uh….I woke up on a beach. There was this man, he took me to where he lived, started telling me about the Island."
"Jacob." Christian said. Jack noticed that none of what he was saying was particularly surprising to his father. He was downright unaffected by this information.
"You know him?" Jack asked.
"Very well. He's the reason why I wasn't in there." Christian gestured to the splintered pieces of what was once his coffin.
"How? How did he do that?" Jack asked.
Christian shrugged, comfortable with not knowing, with not understanding, the stark contrast to his son. "I don't know."
"I saw you." Jack blurted out, pacing in a small circle, his fingers fidgeted, this nervous energy he'd stored up was pouring out of him all at once. "After the crash. You were…." He let out a quick breath or two, "I thought I was losing my mind."
"You weren't, son. I was there. I led you here." Christian admitted.
"Why didn't you let me find you?" Jack asked.
Christian frowned. Another opportunity to be there for him and he missed it and for no other reason than he was not allowed to. "I couldn't, Jack. House rules."
"House rules," Jack repeated, scoffing as he said it. "You mean Jacob's rules. Can you at least tell me why you're here now?"
Christian crossed his hands in front of him, bracing himself for the opposition. "Because it's time, Jack."
Jack cocked his head, defiant. "Time for what?"
Christian let go of a small grin. "You know what."
"You've been livin' in that?" Sawyer asked, staring at the lopsided structure from the treeline as Kate eagerly approached it.
"Yeah, I have." She said with a smile, absentmindedly stepping over the circle of ash that surrounded it and moving for the front door. "It's not much, but it's home. We should just wait inside and see if—"
"Kate." She heard Sayid call out from behind her. She turned to see them standing there, confused.
Kate walked back over, in a rush for them to come on already. "What? What are you waiting for?"
"We can't." Sayid said, confused distress in his tone, something Kate completely missed.
She flung her arms in frustration. "What do you mean you can't? If you still don't believe me, why did you follow me all the way out here?"
"Freckles—" Sawyer started, but she continued, her anger and disappointment evident.
"No. I want an answer. I have done everything short of drawing blood to get you to believe me. I don't know—"
"Freckles, shut up!" Sawyer shouted. Kate looked over at him in shock.
"We believe you, okay? That's not it. We're stuck. We can't follow you in." Kate watched Sawyer's awkward movements, of his trying to progress forward, but an invisible barrier prevented him from doing so. She looked over at Sayid, who displayed the same signs of impediment. She stumbled back, awestruck.
"What the…?" She whispered.
She looked down at their feet. They hadn't crossed over the circle of ash. She always knew that it was a protective measure of some kind, but…she was the only one who could cross it? What did that mean? She didn't have time to dissect it. All she could do was find a way around it.
Sayid bent down to inspect the ash. He patted it first, to check for moisture. There wasn't any. It was as dry as the desert sand. He took a pinch and rubbed it between his fingertips. It was regular ash, the kind that was left behind after a fire had lived long and bright. Ordinary, but held whatever spell had been cast to protect the cabin. In his culture, he'd heard of mythical tales of witchcraft, of places within his country that no mortal man was allowed to go. This was his first real encounter with anything like this.
"Someone, or something, very powerful is protecting it, from everyone except you it seems." Sayid shared, intrigued.
"Who and why?" Kate asked as she stepped back over the ash.
"Very interesting question." The voice was enough of a signal of danger for all three of them to draw and aim their weapons simultaneously towards its source.
Ben. Standing alone, hands open and at his sides to show he didn't have a weapon, that he came in peace, appeared out of nowhere.
Jack pressed the balls of his hands into his forehead, in a desperate attempt to starve off the headache, growing frustrated and angrier by the second.
His fingers combed through his hair as he asked, "You and Jacob working together on this, huh? To get me to accept some grand destiny that no one bothered to ask if I wanted?"
"It was the only way." Christian said.
"He pulled you out of your own coffin, had me chasing after you only to never find you. I was sitting on a beach, for months, worrying myself to death about every man, woman and child he ripped from the sky all because he needs someone to take his place?" Jack couldn't find the will to stop, months of anger and disgust tipping the surface.
"I understand why you're upset, son."
"Do you?" Jack continued, letting out a cynical chuckle, "Because I get off the Island, only to be miserable the entire time, to come back here to be thrown around from one end of this place to the next, with however many centuries in-between, and for what?"
Seconds turned into minutes, minutes into what felt like hours as Jack let his temper cool down. He didn't have the strength to fight his father for answers that he knew Jacob never shared. Christian knew that tone. He felt betrayed, cornered. He still didn't understand.
"Jacob knew that you needed to see it."
Resigned, tired and removed, Jack sighed. "See what?"
"The Island, Jack." Christian said.
"I didn't see the Island, Dad!" Jack yelled, his eyes squinted, his forehead creased. The headache was just on the brink. His father had no idea what he'd been through, what he experienced, because Jacob decided to play with his life the way he had. It infuriated him.
"I saw the Black Rock, full of slaves, before and after it shipwrecked into the jungle. I saw the plane crash that killed dozens of people, scattered along the beach. I saw—"
"Significant events that shaped what it is and what it's become." Christian interrupted him. At this, Jack turned his back, not physically able to listen to any more of this. "You've spent so much time running away from it, trying to find a way off of it, that you never stopped to truly see it, how special this place is."
"John Locke saw it." At the mention of Locke, Jack turned to look at his father, the pain evident, pulsating from his eyes. "He knew the moment he woke up on that beach what this place is and how important it is to protect. He knew for a reason. He knew, because he was meant to show you."
Jack recalled bits and pieces of his conversation with Jacob. It felt like it happened a million years ago. What stuck out the most in this moment was what he said about him and Locke, how Jacob purposefully crossed their paths, brought them together. All of it sounded so calculated, so manipulative.
"You met him." It was a statement, not a question.
"Yes. I led him to the Temple soon after you left the Island." Christian shared. "I told him all about Ben's plans, why he really let you leave, and that he had to convince you. He didn't think he'd be able to."
"I never exactly gave him a reason to believe he ever could." Jack recollected. He had made things so much harder for Locke, harder than they had to be. He placed his hands on his hips, "Jacob said he needed the both of us, and that we needed each other. That we were two sides of the same coin."
"I wanted to leave and John told me not to. He told me not to trust Ben either." The image of leaving him on that dock, cornered, bloodied and broken would stay with him forever. "He was right. About everything."
"Don't you see, Jack?" Christian pushed. "Nothing about this is a coincidence. The dozens of times you and Locke fought, yelled, almost killed each other, was for this. Your standing here was Locke's purpose."
That didn't make Jack feel better at all. Now, he felt responsible for Locke, like whatever happened to him was his cross to bear. There was no telling what Ben had done to him in his absence. Back in California, Jack wanted to believe that he was still alive, that he had to be, but with how urgent his father and Jacob were about everything at this point, he had the sinking feeling that Locke wasn't around anymore. It was making him sick to even think it.
"You said 'was'." Jack noticed. Christian did not jump to correct his statement, watching the devastation pool his son's expressive eyes. He always noticed that their color changed as swiftly as Jack's mood. "Is he alive?"
"I don't know." Christian said.
"How do you not know?" Jack asked loudly, visibly upset, holding back tears.
"I'm sorry, son. Jacob doesn't tell me everything."
"Well, what did Jacob tell you?" Jack's temper took another turn.
"That Locke was the only chance we had to stop Ben and to protect you from whatever he had in play."
"So much for that, huh?" Jack remarked sarcastically, dragging his hand through his hair to let it rest on the knotted muscles of his neck. He was wired so tight, if another weight was placed in his shoulders, he would snap.
"I was against this, you know." Christian defended himself. "Putting you through this, but Jacob told me that he wanted to know for sure that you were strong enough. For protecting this place, for what it entails, for the responsibility, the gravity of it."
"You were alone, Jack." For the first time since seeing him again, Jack actually saw emotions playing out in Christian's face. It appealed to every soft spot he had in his body, as he felt the anger towards him for his role in this dissolving. "You were all alone and it killed me to not be able to be with you, but you never gave up. You never stopped fighting to find your way back."
"Why didn't Jacob come to tell me this?"
"Because he's not your father, and he doesn't need to say goodbye." Christian thought to tell Jack that he wasn't allowed to do this, that the only person that was allowed to see him was Locke, but given the uncertainty of whether or not he was alive, he couldn't help but see his beautiful boy one last time. Jacob owed him that much.
Christian stepped over to Jack, who was being worn down so meticulously by his father's praise, his words, what he finally heard to be respect and admiration in his tone. "No one could possibly survive the isolation you were subjected to without it meaning something."
"Dad, I—" Jack choked back the words when he felt his father's hand land on his shoulder, firm and assuring. It brought him to a stand-still. Everything about this was so foreign to him. Christian was always so dissatisfied, so motivated to mold him in his own image and made no apologies for it. He was different now, full of faith and understanding, acceptance, of what his son was destined for. This wasn't about what his father wanted, it was about to what he felt his son needed. Jack could feel it in his bones.
He was a different man, a better man, and as much as Jack loved him before this moment, he wanted with all of his heart to have had the time to know who was standing in front of him. Maybe it all could have ended differently if he had.
Christian, sensing his son's need for closeness and how it matched his own, brought his hands up to caress each side of Jack's face. Their foreheads pressed together, their eyes slid closed. He smiled at the feel of Jack's fingers curling over the fabric that covered his shoulder. Everything slowed down. Their breathing, their heartbeats, Jack's need to ask questions, and Christian's desire to have the answers. They were nothing more than father and son in this moment, and it was all they wanted to be.
Neither was sure of how long it was before Christian spoke again, but neither cared to find out.
"Listen to me, Jack. You've been on this journey from the second you were born. Not the life I thought I had in the works for you, but this one. You are ready for this. I know it." Christian brought his head up to take in the tears that had fallen down Jack's cheeks.
"Why do you trust Jacob so much? What did he do to make you believe any of this?"
Christian smiled. "He made sure you got my letter."
Sawyer held his weapon taut, his fist tightened around the handle of his gun, and his trigger finger began to squeeze at the sight of the man who tried to have him killed.
"Don't shoot him!" Kate yelled. She needed Ben alive, to find out why he was here, what he wanted. She meant it when she said that the cabin was her home. It was her only tie to Jack and she'd be damned if she let Ben take that away from her. She lost him to Ben's games once already, she wouldn't go through that again.
Ben grinned in her direction. "Hello, Katherine." He took his fill of her. She looked just as beautiful, tenacious and badass as the last time he saw her. "Always a pleasure to see you."
"What are you doing here?" Sayid asked, stepping closer, but keeping his form tight and balanced.
Ben kept his stance steady. He didn't make any sudden movements. "I want to talk. See if we can come to an understanding."
"Ain't no way he came alone." Sawyer whispered to Kate, pointing his gun out at the adjoined jungle.
"You're correct, James. I didn't, but you don't have to worry about them." Ben said. "This is between me and Kate."
"There's nothing between us and there's nothing to talk about." Kate said. She wondered just how much he heard of their conversation before. The end, the beginning or the whole thing?
"That's where you're wrong. We need to talk about that." Ben pointed to the cabin.
"What about it? What do you want with it?" Kate asked.
"It's very important that I meet someone inside, someone I've been waiting a very long time to come face-to-face with. I don't want to be rude and tell you to get lost, but…alas, you've given me no choice." Ben said, his smarmy condescension thicker than ever.
"Interesting." Kate said, deciding to play with Ben's head a little. Lord knows he took uncontested joy in playing with hers. "I'm here to meet someone too."
"Who might that be?" Ben asked.
"None of your damn business, you bug-eyed bastard." Sawyer interjected.
Ben turned his attention from Kate to Sawyer, who was always too vocal for his own good. "You know, James. I have to admit. I almost didn't recognize you. I've only ever seen you nipping at Kate's heels, begging for her affections."
Sawyer charged towards him, his gun set to blow his brains out. "You son of a bitch!"
"James, don't!" Kate shouted.
"He threatened to kill you, Kate. If you ever got in his way again. Remember that? What's to say he's not ready to go through with it?" Sawyer growled, ready to drop Ben where he stood.
"I could have killed you all just now." Ben pointed out. "Your attention to detail was completely blinded and here I was, walking up behind you, and you were none the wiser. So, whatever you were discussing must have been pretty intense."
Kate took a silent breath of relief. He had no idea what they were talking about before, that she was the only one who could enter the cabin. He might be lying, but she couldn't chance that he knew the truth. If she was to believe that he was telling the truth, he had to put all his cards on the table. She won't budge, ever, but she could give him the impression that she would.
"Call them out." Kate dared.
"What?" Ben asked.
"If you want us to leave, so that you can get to your hot date, call them out. Now." Sensing the battle in Kate's voice, Ben decided to at least give her that. He wouldn't give her much else at all.
His voice created an echo in the trees as he called out to his hunting party. "Mikhail, Tom, you can come out!"
Kate, Sawyer and Sayid watched as the leaves rumbled in a particular spot on the outpost of the clearing. Mikhail appeared first, dragging Richard out with him. They wondered who he was, and what he'd done to earn the rope and the gag that he groaned over as he was pushed to the dirt. Tom rounded out the group, appearing with a rifle set in his large hands.
Sawyer gestured to Richard, who was crouched on his knees, still and resigned. "Who's he?"
"He's of no consequence. Not anymore." Ben shared.
"And why's that?" Kate asked.
"Because he betrayed me. He led me to believe that one day, things would be different. Better."
"'Things would be different'?" Kate investigated.
Ben gestured around him. "That all of this would be mine. But it isn't, not yet anyway and the only way it can be is if you let me in that cabin."
"I can't do that." Kate said.
Ben angled his head. "And why not?"
Kate shook her head to unlatch a curl that caught onto her eyelashes, keeping her rifle steady on its target. "I'm not interested in sharing, especially with you."
"Oh really? Who might you be meeting with, Katherine?" Ben took a step, physically daring one of them to shoot him. How did she even know about the cabin? What brought her here and most importantly, what wouldn't make her leave?
"Who is so important that you're willing to bet I don't make good on my promise?"
Ben took a second to study her, to remind himself of the one thing that always motivated her. The blood-lust look in her eyes, the desperation in the way she spoke, moved, and tried to best him, force his hand. It was déjà vu. The very same Kate the night of the last submarine launch was standing in front of him, with the same agenda in play. He couldn't believe he hadn't realized it sooner.
He took a deep breath, letting out a chuckle or two before he spoke. "Jack."
Kate's grip on her rifle clenched at the sound of his name coming from someone who didn't deserve to say it at all.
"Jack is back on the Island, is he?" Ben asked, feigning nonchalance he didn't possess. He looked over at Richard, who perked up at the news. Was this what he was talking about before, about Jacob already having a plan in place to stop him?
"What's it to you?" Kate asked.
"Nothing. Good for you, Kate." Ben nodded. "You'll finally be able to profess your undying, co-dependent, dysfunctional love for him. I'm happy for you. But it changes nothing in my case."
Kate shook her head in suspicion. "How do you figure that? You're the one who helped Jack leave the Island. You were never expecting him to come back, least of all for me. You were practically rubbing it in my face the morning after he left. You kept going on and on about how you were doing him this big favor, ridding him of the Island and everyone on it, but we all know that favors don't come cheap in your world, do they?"
"You don't help anyone unless there's something in it for you. So, tell us Ben, what was in it for you?" Kate challenged.
"Getting my legs back, of course." Ben lied. "Your boyfriend is an exceptional surgeon, and to reward him for his excellent customer service, I gave him the one thing he always wanted. Why Jack has decided to come back here is beyond me and my purpose here today."
"But I am gonna get along with what is my purpose by walking into that cabin," Ben stepped closer to Kate, who was still an inch or two away from the circle of ash, "and you're not gonna do a damn thing to stop me."
"She doesn't have to." A voice called out from behind. Everyone turned to find Alex, standing as tall as her five-feet-three-inch frame would allow.
"Alex?" Ben asked. Déjà vu crept up on him again. What was she doing here? When would she learn not to do things like this? "What are you doing here?" She didn't answer. She registered the people her father was trying to intimidate. She didn't recognize any of them.
"Tom, get her to back to camp. Do it now." Ben ordered.
"No!" Before Tom could move a muscle, Alex pulled a gun from behind, pointing it at her father. "You so much as touch me and I'll shoot."
"Alex…" Ben started.
"You never just deal with me yourself, do you? You never talk to me! All you've ever done is have one of your henchmen drag me away!" Alex yelled.
"Alex, you don't understand what you're doing." Ben tried to talk her down. "This is for us, for our family."
"You're a liar!" Alex cried. "I followed you because I knew you wouldn't tell me the truth. You want to know why it was so easy for me to turn to Locke? Because he never treated me like I couldn't handle it, like I wasn't strong enough!"
"Alex, I'm your father. That's—"
"You're not my father! You have to have a heart to be a father. You have to have a soul, a conscience. What about all the fathers you ordered to be killed just now?" Tears streamed down her face as anger boiled in her heart. "We knew them! They trusted you! But all you care about is yourself!"
The gun was shaking in her trembling hands. She was terrified that she would have to kill the man she was still so conflicted about, the man who stayed with her when she thought monsters were under her bed. The man who sang to her when she was feeling down. The man who pushed her as high as the sky on the swing he spent hours building. She could still hear their laughter melding into the sweetest sound on Earth. Her hero.
"Alex," Ben said slowly, moving towards her, "you don't know what you're doing."
Alex placed her other hand under the one that held the gun, to stop the tremors. "I know exactly what I'm doing. I'm gonna stop you from hurting any more innocent people." She could see the effect this was having on him, how his eyes veered from their steely focus and softened at the sight of her presence.
"I idolized you. You were my hero, Dad." Alex sobbed.
"I can still be that for you, Alex. Just put down the gun, and let me explain." Ben tried to persuade her, fearing that she had seen too much at this point to be swayed.
"Explain what? How you murdered all of their people too?" She gestured towards Kate. "When you sent that thing after Locke? How was that for us? It was all for you, because you needed Locke out of the way, just like you needed that doctor off the Island for good."
At the mention of Jack and Ben's scheme, Kate's glare shifted from Alex to Ben, as her grip tightened on her rifle. The green tint of her eyes dimmed to a shade hell-bent on revenge. "I knew it. I knew that getting Jack off the Island meant more to you than you ever led on. You lying son of a bitch."
Ben ignored the accusation and verbal jab from Kate, and kept his eyes on his daughter. He had no idea that Locke was on the beach when he sent the Monster to kill him. Although, he didn't care for a single life lost, he cared that his daughter knew, that it only added to the body count she kept tabs on.
How did she even know that he'd done it, all of it? He thought she knew nothing about his access to the Monster and his plans. He never doubted his daughter's intellect, but someone must have told her. He was being set up for his daughter to hate him even more than she did before, if that were possible.
"Alex, who told you this?"
"I did." Everyone turned to the voice and the sound of leaves shifting as someone moved through them, to stand by Alex's side.
John Locke, a ghost from Island's past. Only, he was still alive.
Kate, Sawyer and Sayid looked at each other in amazement, not sure if they'd ever been happier to see him more than they were in that moment. Richard smiled through the confines of the gag, his eyes big, captivated. Mikhail and Tom looked over to their boss, who couldn't believe his eyes.
Locke put one hand on his hip and brought the other up, so the handgun he held grazed against his shoulder.
"Hello, Ben."
Whoever guessed that I could never kill my love Jack, you were right. But I had to keep the suspense going, right? ;)