Three More Minutes – Chapter Two
The funeral started three minutes ago but time stands still for no one. Sawyer has pushed himself to the front with Hurley, a significant position Kate wonders if anyone else notices. Every time she goes to get closer to him he moves away, sometimes imperceptibly, but still it hurts, and she wonders if what went on earlier between the two meant anything. She settles for comforting Hurley, but her eyes bear holes into Sawyer's back. It's easier being mad at him than grieving for him, with him.
He had told her that he never even knew Ana's last name.
She had looked at him, her heart silently breaking for a man grieving for another woman.
"James," she had said, and he gripped her shoulder tightly, drawing her in for a hug, almost cutting off her circulation, but she didn't care because she needed to let him know; needed to let him feel, that she was there for him.
"Kate Austen," he had murmured into her soft curls. He inhaled deeply, gathering himself for what he was about to admit.
"I cared for her. I cared for Ana, and I didn't even know it 'til she was dead. What does that make me?"
She had gripped him tighter, for she had no idea how to answer that.
He had cared for her, but he hadn't loved her, and Kate thinks she can deal with that. She hates herself for still fixating on this instead of Ana, even as the woman's body is being lowered into the hole she herself has dug. Maybe it's easier to deny than to feel. It's certainly simpler, she thinks.
Hurley starts to speak and she rests her hand on his back. She doesn't know how Hurley is still standing, if it had been Sawyer…a lump fills her throat and she cannot finish this line of thought. She sees Claire grab Charlie's hand and hers is itching to find Sawyer's. She craves the comfort a simple touch by him can give her, but she respects his feelings, it's not the place for her to make demands, and she curls her hand into a fist to repress the urge.
Libby's body is in the ground now; Hurley's scattering sand over her and Jack is doing the same for Ana. Sawyer makes no move, he seems rooted to the spot, staring but unable to move. Kate walks to the grave, slides a hand down his arm gently as she passes, and throws sand over Ana's grave.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry you died. I'm sorry I never got to know you and I'm sorry for thinking about Sawyer when both of you are dead.
The crowd is dispersing and suddenly Sawyer is next to her, almost touching but not quite. She can't resist any longer and slips a small hand in to his and he grips it tightly, his face betraying nothing and his hand everything. He bends down, still awkwardly holding her hand, and picks up his own handful of sand, and sends his own apologies as he throws it over the grave.
He abruptly stalks off to the jungle and Kate finds herself being almost dragged along until she finds her feet. He is unable, unwilling to let go of her, but he can't let his feelings out, not now, not here. Behind them Sayid watches, before picking up a shovel and burying Libby and Ana-Lucia, obscuring them from the world forever.
He leads her through the dense foliage, expertly avoiding little snags and branches obscuring their path. After a while she realises that he is taking her to their waterfall. She still thinks of it as theirs, she realises, and decides she likes it.
They are almost at the clearing when he pushes her against a tree and lowers his mouth onto hers. His pace is frantic, desperate, and she loops her arms around his neck, drawing his body closer to hers as his tongue snakes into her mouth. He pushes up tighter against her until all she can see is him, all she can feel, hear, breathe. She rakes her fingers gently through the ends of his hair, and his mouth moves from hers onto her jawbone, onto the crook of her neck. He sucks, bites, gently laps the soft skin, wanting to leave something tangible on her, wanting to mark her, and she lets him, wanting it as much as him. His desperate passion is leaving him now and Kate accommodates that by stroking his back with one hand, clutching a bunch of the fabric of his shirt in the other. He is grieving for another woman, but it's ok because he's come to her for comfort, has let her see past the façade he's been putting up.
He buries his head into the crook of her neck, his slightly colder nose pressed firmly against her smooth, warm flesh. The noise of the waterfall permeates their little world, and Kate's not quite sure if she can hear stifled sniffs coming from Sawyer. She pulls him down to the ground and leans his head against her chest, stroking his hair with one hand whilst the other is gripped tightly by his hand.
He's a little boy again, and the gunshots of the past are clear as day. He's not physically crying, but his body is shaking with emotion, for Ana, for his parents, for everything. In this moment he is weak, and she is the strong one. He lets her look after him and she loves that he trusts her, cares about her enough to let her do this for him.
"Why do I care?" he whispers, dazed. In matters of the heart, he is as lost as Kate is, perhaps more so. The years of anger had dissipated into a confusion, and he looks up at her, searching for an answer. He doesn't find one, but he finds the warm green of her eyes, the inexplicable draw of her freckles, the soft pink of her lips, and she bends her head down towards him and they kiss again, because this they know. She keeps it gentle, comforting, and Sawyer is surprised to find out that he is enjoying this just as much as the passionate embraces. She breaks away, finally, and rests her forehead on his, her nose brushing against his, teasing. Her lips are so close, so tempting, and he almost takes one between his, but he has something he needs to say:
"I care about you Kate."
It sounds awkward, foreign to his mouth, but the meaning, the emotions behind it, they've never been more real. The words are sticking to his tongue, and she's just looking at him, and he feels a fool. But she's smiling, and looking at him straight in the eye.
"I care about you too, Sawyer. More than you know."
He takes it in, and he smiles back. And later, when he asks if they can stay awhile, he doesn't feel weak because he knows she feels the same. He can be weak with her, in a way he's never allowed himself to be before.
He had cared for Ana but Kate, Kate was something else.
