AN: in italics are quotes from Gibran's the prophet.
Disclaimer: everything you recognize ain't mine. Lost belongs to JJ, Damon and the rest of the geniuses behind it. The Prophet is Gibran's.
Anyone up for some Jate? Enjoy :D
Captivity
Chapter 5
Reality no longer exists. He can not tell day from night. He does not know the difference between dream world and the real world. Consciousness or beyond that.
He remembers only glimpses since their capture. Almost oblivious to what they have been doing to him.
Almost sure he is not being physically tortured. His body aches from something else. Needle marks increasing along his arms. Three surgical scars. Two on his abdomen. One along his back. Intersecting a scar from stitches made on a day she did not run.
Ire not that they are there, but at his ignorance of why, how and when.
Despises being so vulnerable, so defenseless, so dominated.
Abhors the fact that Kate and Sawyer are being held because of him, that he does not know what they want from them or what they have been doing to them, that he has done nothing to help them.
His eyes flicker open to a new surrounding.
A clumsily constructed room. Two meters by meters. Pieces of formwork lying around. No windows. Metal door. Lock and chain on the other side.
Vicious bickering diverts his attention from a freshly painted ceiling.
"Move along sweetheart," a vulgar voice of an Other.
"Not until you tell where you are taking me!"
Kate.
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course.
"Don't worry. You'll like this Katie," laughs at his own derogation.
"Get you hands off of me!"
He has to see her.
"Feisty, aren't we?" Sour chuckles.
Door opens.
"Get in!"
Door slams.
"Hey! Hey! Come back! What's going on?"
She's right next to him. Behind the door.
When love beckons you, follow him, though his ways are hard and steep.
"Kate?"
"Jack? Jack! Is that you?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it's me. How… Are you okay?"
"Oh my God, Jack. They told me they will let me see you, I thought they were lying. I… I'm fine…:
"Did they do anything to you? Did they hurt you?"
"No, no, I'm okay. They haven't done anything. They've just kept me and Sawyer locked up. I've… we've been worried about you. They wouldn't tell us anything or let us see you."
Her tears matching his.
"Kate, I'm sorry. This is all my fault. I should have told you about Michael from the beginning…"
"No, Jack. Stop. This is not your fault. You couldn't have known… Are… Are you ok?"
"I'm… fine,"
She hears the crack in his voice.
"Jack…"
She doesn't buy it.
"Kate, I'm fine. I guess. I don't know. I've barely been conscious,"
Says her name again. Needs to say her name.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
…
So much to say. Not sure where to start.
Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself. To know the pain of too much tenderness.
…
"Do you know what they want from us?"
"No,"
"Do you think we'll make it out of here?"
"Yes. Yes I do,"
He is not that sure.
"Jack, I'm scared,"
"I know. I am scared too,"
That he is sure of.
To sleep with prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.
…
"Did you mean what you said?"
"When?"
"The night Michael came back,"
To be wounded by our own understanding of love and to bleed willingly and joyfully.
"Yes. Yes I did… did you?"
"No, no. I only said it because I thought that was how you felt,"
"Kate,"
…
Silence. Not awkward. Soothing. Comforting. Promising.
The deeper the sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Eyes wander. Seek ideas. Fall upon the formwork. A piece of metal wire, once used to fasten steel rods, forgotten carelessly under a wooden plank.
Smiles wide.
"Kate, is there a lock on your side of the door?"
"erm, yeah, why?"
"Do you know how to pick a lock?"
"I do, but I just don't happen to have my lock picking kit on my right now,"
"You're spending too much time with Sawyer,"
Chuckle.
""Sorry,"
"I'm sliding something under the door. Use that,"
"Okay, got it,"
"So can you do it?"
…
She can do it. She can pick the lock.
And then there was only them.
How long it did not matter.
Words not necessary to communicate what they need to say.
For the first time they understood perfectly just by being them.
Together.
And when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart you live in your lips.
AN: ok I am not sure you can pick a lock with a metal wire, but at least it got Jack and Kate together, right?
r&r:D