The second time Kate had been locked up was two years ago. She was on the run, alone and scared. Sometimes she went days on end without speaking to anyone, and when she did converse with people it was only the woman behind the desk at the motel or some guy at the gas station. That night was different. She needed some kind of social contact. She needed to connect with someone.
She was in some seedy small town bar and a stranger offered to buy her a drink. He was handsome, in an ordinary kind of way, and she had figured, what could be the harm? But then one drink turned to two, two became five and before she realised it they were entangled in the back of his car. Still, her conscience didn't interrupt her activities, and if it had she would have rationalised that she deserved some pleasure every once in a while. What was the worst that could happen?
And then they were back at her hotel, unconcerned with any kind of clarity – dawn would bring that. Kate allowed herself to be in the moment. She didn't look over her shoulder for phantoms from her past. She didn't plan her next disguise or story. She simply laid back and felt.
It was mid-morning when she was awoken. She was naked, with only the thin off-white coloured sheets clinging across her middle, preserving her modesty. The door had been flung open and standing before her was the man from last night. But he was different somehow. It hit her with the force of a lightning bolt – he was wearing a police uniform.
'Get dressed,' he said, and his voice had changed too. Whilst last night it had been soft, uttering words she didn't take the time to comprehend, now it was harsh and cold. Unfeeling.
'What's going on?' Kate asked, though she already knew the answer.
'You're Kate Austen – you're wanted for murder. I'm taking you to the station.'
There was nothing she could do. She had let herself stop running for an evening, and she had been caught. She dressed, let the officer take her to the car and stared out of the window, thinking whilst not even registering her own thoughts. She was numb to everything.
It was a small town jail. She would be held here until those whose job it was to chase her showed up to collect her. They put her in a cell with a prostitute who eyed her curiously. Kate decided to keep herself to herself. Perhaps form a plan.
She was afraid, but consoled herself with the fact that this was, at least, better than the first time she had been locked up.
The door to her cell opened, and there was the man who had worn the fake beard – Tom, one of them had called him – smiling at her. His eyes remained emotionless.
'Get up, Kate.' She did not do as he asked, merely sat there, staring at him defiantly. 'Look, we can talk here if you want. Or we can talk someplace else, at least you'll get out of this cell.'
'Fine,' Kate said, and she stood up. Before she could take anything else in a hood went over her head, she struggled a little and heard Tom laughing.
'Think we're going to let you see what's outside these walls and the room we're taking you to, Kate? You've been a criminal long enough to know how these things work. Don't want any escape attempts on our hands now, do we?'
She stopped struggling, her common sense taking over. If she fought all the way to wherever they were taking her then she wouldn't be able to make sense of her surroundings. She needed to just listen, try to figure out what they might be passing, and log the route in her head.
Left out of the door. Along a corridor. Right. Down some stairs. Left again. Through a door, and then the hood was removed. The information she had gained didn't seem to make sense now, but Kate committed it to memory anyway, knowing that there was a chance it would one day become invaluable.
The room she was now in had a window, but it was no ordinary window. She could not see the lush green grass of the islands valleys, or the mysterious jungle, but the deep blue of water, and schools of fish swimming by. So either they had some kind of underground tank, or the building was on the coast.
'You like the fish, huh Kate?' Tom asked, and he slid a chair back from underneath the table situated in the centre of the room. He made a gesture for her to take the seat, and she did so, but she did not respond to his question. 'We generally use this room to observation, rather than interrogation.'
He took a seat opposite her, and met her eyes as though expecting a question.
'What do you need to interrogate me about?' She asked, her tone challenging.
'You wanna tell me about your horse?' He asked, calmly, and Kate's eyes widened with shock.
'How do you know about that?'
'You've seen him twice now. That right?' He dodged her question and yet looked as though he expected his to be answered.
'Where are Jack and Sawyer?'
'You answer my questions Kate, and I might start thinking about answering yours.'
'Where are Jack and Sawyer?' She repeated, but he merely stared at her, a slight smile playing across his lips. She sighed, defeated; she would have to play give and take. 'I've seen the horse three times.'
'Three times, huh? And how else has it helped you?'
'Where are Jack and Sawyer?'
'They're in the building.'
'Are they okay?'
'Tell me about the horse Kate, and I'll tell you about your friends.'
She took a deep breath, calming herself a little.
'What do you mean, how has it helped me?'
'When you saw it here, on the island, it helped you to come to terms with your crime, and then it helped you to accept your feelings for Sawyer, didn't it?'
She chose not to answer this question, unsure of the implications of any information she might give him. He chuckled as she lowered her gaze.
'I'll take that as a yes.' She did not look up, just sat there, uncharacteristically still. 'And the first time you saw him, he helped you to escape.'
'Yes,' Kate conceded, and Tom nodded.
'So first he helped you physically, then he helped you emotionally. So what happened the second time, Kate?'
'I don't want to talk about it.'
'It's okay. I can wait for that information. We'll have plenty of time to talk it over during your stay with us.'
'You know people will come for us.' She said, looking up at him, her need to challenge him, to fight, resurfacing.
'I know. And when they get here, we'll either take them or kill them. Personally,' he leaned forward, lowering his voice into a conspiratorial whisper, 'I'm hoping Sun will be with them. Plenty we could use her for.'
Kate took her anger at the mention of her close friend along with the opportunity presented and set off a two-pronged attack, elbowing him in the face whilst also kicking him in the groin under the table. She was out of the door before he could possibly have had the chance to realise what was happening and immediately faced with the young girl who had handled Kate when they were captured. They stared at each other for a moment, the girl with her gun pointed squarely at Kate, and something stared in Kate's memory.
'I remember, a girl. A girl with blue eyes.' A pause. Kate stood silently as the two women connected. 'She helped me, she saved me. Just like you did. She wasn't like the others…she was good.'
'Alex?' Kate questioned, pieces of a puzzle coming together all of a sudden. The girl facing her lowered her gun and Kate continued. 'You helped Claire – please, help me too.'
'Then Claire's okay?' The girl asked, Kate nodded.
'I'll tell you everything, Alex, but first we have to get away from your friend in there.'
She seemed to consider this for a brief moment.
'Okay, follow me.'
The two of them set off down the corridor, in the opposite direction to that which Kate had come from. Whatever was about to happen, it had to be better than being locked up again.