Lost and its characters belong to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot and all those Other people. I'm just borrowing for fun. Jack and Kate come back to reality and find it's harsher than the island ever was.

Lost – The Last
By Mystic
June 3rd 2006
They'd kept her secluded on the rescue plane, in a compartment generally reserved for those who were more important, but every once in a while they'd pull back the curtain and Jack would catch a glimpse at her. She seemed colder somehow. Quiet. Her hands were cuffed together in front of her and a man was asking her questions, a notepad held tight in his hands. Jack shifted in his seat, declining when someone offered him a drink, and turned his eyes to the sky.

He never thought he'd be on a plane again. Never thought he'd feel the lurch of turbulence, or the smooth landing on a paved runway. He closed his eyes and inhaled the scent of Starbucks coffee for that minute they stood at the airport before they were shuffled away to be interrogated.

Everyone wanted answers they didn't know how to give.

He listened to someone talk about lawsuits and he held his death certificate in his hands as his mother stood silently at his side, her hand occasionally brushing the space just inches above his left shoulder. Her eyes looked bloodshot, her body frailer than when he'd left and he apologized for not bringing his father home the way he should have. She laughed, unexpectedly, and nodded to him, a smile teasing her face, as though he'd thought to say the most ridiculous thing. It wasn't that different from when he left.

When he'd filled a book with memories for them, he watched the way the woman across from him stared. Her eyes bright with excitement as she waited. But there was no more. "May I see her?" Jack asked softly, his voice half gone from speaking.

They led him down a long hallway, to where she sat handcuffed to a metal bench bolted to the ground. Her face was streaked with dried tears and she stared up at a window too high for her to see out of. He bit his lip, walked the remaining distance and listened as the women who brought him walked away, giving them some privacy. Jack pressed his thumbs into his hips as he gripped his waist.

"Figured you'd be gone by now," he uttered, his voice cracking.

Her head jerked towards him and he heard the sound of metal scratching metal as the cuff on her wrist shifted with her movement. She winced, not used to the restraints after too many years free on an island. Fresh tears spilled over and she turned her face away from him. "This is the first time they've left me alone."

Her voice was raw, moreso than his, and he knew she's been doing her fair share of talking. And crying. Jack approached her slowly, watching the way her legs pressed together and her body straightened. "They won't talk to us about you," he told her. "We ask and they change the subject."

"You don't need to know," Kate muttered, her chin touching her chest before she took a deep breath and looked up at him. "Everyone's just gonna go back to whatever lives they had before. Find their families, find some normalcy again."

Jack sat next to her, felt her shift away from him, keeping distance between them the way she hadn't done in a long time. "I spent an hour in a room with my mother, trying to catch up on the world. She talked. More than I think I've ever heard her talk in my whole life. But she wouldn't look at me." Jack sighed. "Normalcy is overrated."

"Jack," Kate said quickly, "You have a shot at a normal life without me. You could get married, have kids." She thought a moment, something pained crossing her face. "You'd be a good dad, I always thought so."

He watched her look away, her right hand gripping the bench tightly as her left played with the edge of her frayed sweater. They hadn't even let her change. Jack touched his belt, felt the smooth fabric of his slacks, glanced at the clean white dress shirt underneath his jacket. "Have they told you what's going to happen?"

She shrugged beside him, her eyes drifting somewhere to her right, farther away from him.

"Have they told you anything?" He asked, frustrated. The rest of them knew they were staying at a nearby hotel until they could make other arrangements. Jack already had a car rented, his mother's doing, to head back home. He still had a room in his parent's house if he wanted, she'd told him. "Kate," he said her name soft enough to make her bottom lip tremble.

"I don't know, Jack. I don't know anything, ok?" She finally shouted, her voice carrying down the hallway.

He nodded slowly. "Sounds like you've given up."

"I have," she sighed.

"That's not like you."

"What can I do?" Her eyes drifted up to meet his, and he saw the dullness in them now. Nothing like the eyes that found him in the jungle, or the caves, or the hatch, or along the beach. "Run?" She shook her head. "I had my life on that island. That's over."

He reached out and caught her hand before she could pull it away and he squeezed it, feeling the cold fingers that relaxed in his grip and held onto him tightly, as though it really would be the last time. Jack shook his head. "This isn't right," he told her, watching her shake her head, her eyebrows coming together, "You're a good person."

"I murdered my father," she told him, a long breath flowing from her. "I cut a gas line, put him…"

Jack shook his head, "Kate, you don't…"

"No, Jack, I put him in his bed knowing he'd smoke a cigarette and I got on my bike and rode off." Kate's head came up when he started to protest again. "Jack, you need to hear this from me!"

Watching her stare him down, his shoulders slumped and he gave a short nod.

"I let him blow up because I wanted to kill him." She bit her lip. "It doesn't matter how many good things I did on that island, it can't erase that fact."

Jack released her hand and leaned back on the bench, his fingers finding his forehead. He heard the footsteps coming down the hall and knew they were coming for her. He opened his eyes, stared up at the white ceiling a moment before turning to see her watching him, her mouth starting to open for an apology, but he moved quicker, silencing her with his lips. Jack slipped his hand up to her neck, his fingers digging into her hair and he closed his eyes.

Somewhere back on the island they used to hold hands. It took them too long to get to that point, he knew. Too many issues between them of trust and insecurities to just drop their guard, break down their walls. He inhaled deeply – smelling the ocean and sweat, and the remnants of mangoes – hearing someone shouting at him, and she moaned into his mouth, breaking off, her breath ragged on his cheek before pulling away from him.

Kate pressed a hand into his chest and nodded. "You need to go now."

"Everything will work out…" he started, but she pressed a finger to his lips.

"Stop making promises you can't keep." She smiled at him as they undid the cuffs on the bench. "See you in another life, Jack," she whispered just before they jerked her away.

Jack nodded slowly, something inside comprehending, but not accepting. He gripped the metal handle of the bench, his chest tightening as he listened to her footsteps against the linoleum as they took her away. Jack inhaled and he heard a man shout. His head whipped up towards the end of the hallway where he saw shadows dancing against the white walls before the bang of the gun.

He stood and went to the window, staring out at the ocean below, at the waves that crashed against the sand. With the silence behind him, he closed his eyes and he remembered a day, so many days ago, when she stood at the edge of the ocean.

"I'm sinking," she'd told him then, a smile playing on her face.

Opening his eyes, Jack felt his eyes burn with tears that couldn't form and he damned her. He had his life on that island too. And now it was over.

Finis