Chapter 133
Ana stayed in the trees for a long time, watching Jack and thinking over the scene she had just witnessed; her heart was still broken and burning with anger but she kept her cool, keeping to the shadows and watching. And thinking.
Locke knew she was there, he'd looked right at her, and that made anything he said suspect. It interested her a little that he seemed to be trying to keep Kate alive, too, and that was promising, though, again, he knew she was there, so he could have just been saying it because he knew that was what she wanted to hear. Her hand went to her pocket, where the little pouch was tucked, and she wondered again about Locke's subservience and his offering; maybe he really was a man of faith and being confronted with an angel was enough to ease him to her side, under her hand, if she played it right. It was an idea, and she made a note to herself to feel Locke out later, decide if he was trying to play her or not.
Jack was her concern now, and after Locke left he stared in her general direction for a few minutes, though he obviously didn't see her hidden in the shadows and she wondered if he was waiting for her; finally he sighed and sat on a fallen log, putting his head in his hands. She hated him but God help her, she wanted to go to him because he looked so...dejected and lonely that she couldn't bear it; she still loved him, though she loathed him, too, and only uncommon restraint kept her from unleashing the wrath of heaven on his arrogant, manipulative, conniving head.
She just didn't understand it, how could he have acted that way all of this time? Was it just the sex, and he used love to get what he wanted? Why do that to her? Suspicions fed suspicions and her thinking inevitably came around to Kate, it was because of Kate, he couldn't have her and so she was his substitute. That was why he wanted to kill her so badly; it was making him insane that he couldn't have her and with the taste of power he had finally snapped. For once she didn't hate Kate for Jack's obsession; the truth was staring her in the face and she saw it, and her anger at Jack grew until her eyes began to glow softly.
Fine, if it was power and Kate he loved so much, then that was where she'd hurt him.
Her aura was dark and shadowy and she blended in as she moved forward, towards Jack; he was still sitting with his head in his hands but she didn't feel sorry, not this time, and she waved her hand, bringing darkness down over them as she touched his shoulder, freezing him in place, stopping time.
His pack was next to him and she rifled through it, finding Kate's pouch with the stones and the box he'd found in the Zoo; she pocketed them, zipping his pack back up and setting it back exactly how it had been.
She stopped and stared at him for a few seconds, torn between loathing and love and love won out for a second as she bent and planted a kiss on his warm lips, feeling the spark still; but he didn't love her, she'd heard it with her own ears and she backed away from him, her eyes lingering on him even as she wanted to turn away, turn her back on him like he had turned on her but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She still wanted him and it was only when she backed into the cover of the trees that she finally tore her eyes away and with a sigh, snapped her fingers, bringing the jungle back to life.
She watched for a minute as Jack looked around, confused, and as he reached up and touched his lips she turned and disappeared silently into the jungle
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They lay together, sated, in the flowers; their scent was all around them drowning them in the sweet fragrance and Sawyer stroked her belly, softly, feeling little Joshua as Kate gazed at him, the starlight reflected in her eyes and he said, almost without thinking, "I got a girl pregnant once."
She laughed softly; it seemed irreverent to break the quiet hush of the garden and they kept their voices to whispers as she said, "Now, why doesn't that surprise me?" He rolled up on his elbow to look at her. "Does that mean there's already a little Sawyer running around somewhere?"
She was a little jealous of the nameless, faceless woman and her child; she wanted to be the only one, though, given his past it was likely that there was a lot more than one little Sawyer running around. She was almost relieved at his curt, "No." He didn't elaborate and she reached up to touch his face and it was wet; she leaned up and kissed him, and he said, "She lost it."
His hand tightened on her stomach and she said, "I'm sorry, that she lost it. You must have been very sad."
He smiled sadly. "No," he said, softly, "I wasn't. Not then." She didn't press him; he was going to tell her, she could sense it, and her hand reached down and covered his, as he said, "We were in high school. I was fourteen, I didn't want a kid. I was angry, pissed off at the world, I'd been gettin' in a lot of trouble, and that was the last straw. When she told me she was pregnant I ran. Quit school, left town, struck out on my own. I heard through the grapevine later that her daddy made her get an abortion." His eyes wouldn't meet hers. "I'm not proud of it, but I was a kid." He was quiet for a second, and she felt a tear drip onto her chest as he said, "Sometimes I think about that kid, how old he'd be now, what he'd be doing...it's crazy, really, because he was never even anything, never even real to me." He kissed her, hard, with a sudden sad desperation, and she could feel the dampness on her cheeks, though she wasn't sure if it was his or hers as he pulled away, gripping her belly and whispering fiercely, "Until now."
She laughed shakily and as he lowered his head to her stomach, kissing the furrowed skin lightly, she said, "Mine would be ten."
His head jerked up and he met her eyes before she looked away, sorry she had said anything, but he'd been so open, she just let it out without thinking. But now he'd want an explanation and she wasn't ready for that, to open that door she kept her secret locked behind, locked so tight she'd almost forgotten about it, convinced herself it didn't happen, but her mind, her heart hadn't forgotten and now it was too late. "Yours?"
"I don't want to talk about it." She sat up and he rose next to her, grabbing her wrist, gently, but firmly.
"Oh, no, Freckles," he said, low and throaty, "it don't work that way, not anymore. You say somethin', you finish it." She wouldn't meet his eyes and he sighed, whispering, "Kate, whatever it is, I'm not gonna judge you. I just want to know because I love you."
She was crying and he wiped away a tear as she whispered, "It was Tom's. I was seventeen." She turned her body away, refusing to face him. "He never knew about it. He was going to college, I wasn't going to let him ruin that, not to bring a baby into my life, my hell."
"Do you ever think about it?"
She suddenly turned and met his eyes, making him shiver; they were terrified silver points in the dark, and she whispered, "No." The terror turned to desperation and she clutched his hand. "I kill everyone I love, James, it's my curse. Everyone." She put his hand to her stomach, pressing it to her smooth, taut skin, as she whispered, pleading, "Please don't let me do it again."
He clutched her tight, cradling her against his body as he whispered, "No, Kate, no, don't think like that. Don't say that." Tears wet his chest and she was trembling against him as the memory she had hidden for so long came bursting out; the lonely, horrible trip to Des Moines, by herself; she'd made up some story about visiting a sick friend to get her mom's car, since her motorcycle didn't seem the best way for her to drive home. The sterile, impersonal, cold waiting room, filled with haggard, pasty women, strained and stressed and she realized now that she must have looked the same, lonely and about to destroy the one thing in the world that was sure to love her, to ease her loneliness. Faceless nurses, featureless doctors, spinning nausea, blurs, blurs, blurs, and the ride home, alone, sobbing and tempted to just keep driving, just keep going and not look back, start over in a new town, in a new state, hell, in another frickin' country if that was what it took to leave the horrible empty ache in her heart behind.
In the end she went home and handed her mother the keys without a word and went to her room, curling up on the bed with a ragged stuffed animal between her knees and three blankets over her head to muffle the sound of her crying. She never told anyone, not even Tom, he would have hated her for it, even though she knew she was right; they weren't ready and it would have ruined him. She acted out the rest of the year until he left for college, then it was easy to lose herself, lose him.
The memory played itself out and it was like drawing poison; she felt released, relieved that finally, after all of this time, someone knew, someone could tell her it was okay, she had done the right thing and as he held her, stroking her hair as her tears abated, he said, "Well, Freckles, I guess there's somethin' else we got in common."
Her laugh was harsh and bitter but clear as she replied, "That's quite a dubious honor, isn't it? For both of us."
His own laugh was no less bitter and harsh. "I guess it is." He pulled away, looking her in the eyes. "You did what you did, Kate, and whether or not is was right depends on who you talk to. My personal view? If you think you did the right thing, then you did."
Tears welled up in her eyes again and she buried her face in his chest, letting the guilt out, giving it up as she cried, "But I don't know if I did! I've kept it...away for so long I don't know how I feel anymore."
He sighed, wishing he was better at this kind of thing; comforting a woman in distress was not his thing, since, being the usual cause of the distress, he was out the door and out of state before he had to deal with tears and emotions, and while the last few weeks with Kate had given him some practice, this was an area where he didn't have a lot of expertise. "I don't...Kate, you did what you had to do. You obviously thought it was right at the time, why should now be any different?" Kissing her forehead softly he whispered, "It doesn't make you a bad person. You did it for the right reason, and that means something."
His words didn't really matter, it was the fact that he was holding her, loving her anyway that made the difference; he didn't judge her, and she knew he wouldn't, but it felt so good to get the heavy, hard secret out; that door was hanging open and the secret room was empty, no, not empty, it was filled with light and warmth and James. She was full of those secrets, too, and as she looked into his eyes she knew that she could tell him every single one and he would never hate her, never pass judgement on her actions, never stop loving her, no matter what; his heart was beating wildly as she leaned her head against his chest, so...safe, and comfortable, and she said, "Thank you."
He kissed her, softly, feeling the sadness and the joy inside of her; she was both, two sided forever and not even he could heal her completely. "Don't thank me, Freckles." he grinned at her, his dimples flashing in the starlight; she reached up and brushed away some of his shaggy hair and he caught her hand, bringing it to his lips. "You know what I think?" he asked softly, kissing her fingertips. She shook her head, smiling as he pulled her hand town to her stomach, pressing it there. "I think we're both getting a second chance, Kate."
Her eyes were shining with happy, satisfied tears as she replied, "Yeah. I think so, too."
