A/N – Okay, so not to toot my own horn or anything, but who caught the fact that this was the music store that Hurley went into in a flashback episode, and Starla was the girl he asked out? Because I was really proud I weaved that in. Anyways, here is Chapter 4! I did my best, CaughtInTheMoment! Just so you all know, this fic's going to be shorter than the other one. I think it'll be eight chapters. Enjoy, I hope!
The door creaked open and was slammed shut at exactly 8:00 PM,right when Jack hadpromised he'd be home.
She heard his footsteps, heard him call, "Kate? Are you here?" She heard his voice come closer as he entered the bedroom. She heard him say, "What are you doing?" and that he sounded as if he was alarmed.
She didn't turn around or look up. She saw the cold ground, dying grass, a fence and a dumpster three flights below her.
"Kate, what are you doing on the fire escape?" Jack was a few feet behind her now, but Kate didn't remove her focus from the ground beneath.
"I'm just sitting." She muttered. She sat on the railing of the fire escape, having climbed out of the window to clear her thoughts, or at least try to. She didn't know how long it had been since she had sat down on the railing, her legs wrapped around the bars and her feet dangling over the edge. After she had escaped the paparazzi, she had just opened the window without thinking, and sat out there. It was dark now. Her hands were numb, so she guessed it was cold out. "I like to be above things. So just for a minute I can see everything that's going on near me. For once I can see what's going on; everything makes sense."
"C'mere." Before she knew it, Jack grabbed her around the waist with a quick jolting motion, and jerked her backwards.
"Jesus Christ!" Kate screamed. The backs of her knees hit the metal hard as Jack dragged her back. She landed on the first step of the escape on her feet, but stumbled backwards into the side of the building.
"You could have killed me!" She yelled at him, furious. Her heart was pounding and her legs throbbed. She leaned against the wood paneling for support.
Jack took a step closer to her, looking concerned. "You could have killed you. Are you okay?"
Her appearance must have been startling, she could give him that. Half of her hair had been whipped out of her ponytail by the wind, and her face felt raw and burned by the cold air. Her hands were red, and one of them was bleeding across the knuckles. She didn't remember how that happened. But she was still livid. She had been dragged rudely out of her trance, Jack had no right.
"As a matter of fact, no." She said bitingly.
"Okay," Jack said calmly. "Let's just get back into the apartment."
Kate thought about flat-out refusing to go inside, thought about shouting at him more; picking a fight she knew he wouldn't participate in. But he placed his hand lightly on her shoulder - not moving her towards the window, just resting it there. She knew he was just worried and she was just lashing out as well as being juvenile if she stubbornly stayed outside. She ducked her head and climbed into the apartment. He followed her inside and went immediately for the comforter on the bed. He pulled it off and wrapped it around her. She realized how much she'd been shivering.
He stood in front of her, their faces only two inches away from each other. "What's wrong?" he asked simply.
She sat down cross-legged on the bed, the blanket still wrapped tightly around her. "I tried to get a job today."
He sat down next to her. "Where?"
"Some music store. I thought, hey, here's something to keep me occupied, something to get me to live a semi-normal life again. But I forgot that no one trusts a murderer. Kind of understandable, I guess. And they all just hate me more because I got a light sentence. 'Why didn't she get what she deserved? She should have rotted in prison all her life. She should have been given the death sentence.'" She took on a high, mocking voice. "'Why should she be able to roam the streets, ready to take the next guy she sees and blow him to smithereens!'" she screamed the last two words, and they echoed through the room strangely.
She didn't look at Jack; she couldn't look at Jack. She stared at a lamppost outside, and kept her eyes focused on that.
"So I left after being judged by a girl I hadn't spoken ten words to, who could blame her, and was attacked by two freaking paparazzi. And they had these… these huge smiles on their faces, like they hit it big to catch Kate on the street!" She stopped and caught her breath.
"How'd you get away?" Jack asked quietly.
"I shoved them away. Shit!" she moaned, covering her face with one hand. "What if they –"
"Kate, the paparazzi are pushed around all the time. They're not going to press charges; they were the ones harassing you. Kate."
She still didn't lift her head.
He stood up; the bed creaked slightly. "I'm going to make you some tea. You'll be all right."
Somehow, the way he said both of these things as if they were simple facts made her feel better. She lay down and rolled over on her stomach. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe evenly; she had been holding in air and gasping in turn. She tried to calm herself.
In a few minutes, Jack was back in the room. She heard him place the mug of tea onto the coffee table with a faint clink. She felt him run his fingers lightly up and down her spine in an effort to soothe her. He sat down again.
Five or so minutes passed without a word. Then Jack spoke hesitantly.
"Have you ever considered anti-depression pills?" He asked, and Kate knew instantly that he had been trying to gather courage to say this for months, even when she was in prison. No, especially when she was in prison.
She sat up, feeling the anger that had simmered begin to boil up inside her again. "Yes. I considered anti-depression back when I was in the hospital. Almost a year ago, when that nutritionist told me I was anorexic and depressed. I considered anti-depression pills to be a crutch for weak people who choose not to deal with their own emotions. I considered them to be a screwed up scientific way of pretending to solve your problems when you don't have the time or the energy to actually face them. I considered them a shitty waste of money and medicine and I considered them not to be for me."
Jack looked taken aback and slightly hurt, but he didn't give up. "Kate… think about all you've been through. Don't you ever want -"
Now she was pissed. Anything the slightest bit displeasing today was something that would send her off the deep end. She realized this, but she continued. "Think about all I've been through, Jack? Oh, okay! Good idea, I haven't done that at all. I'll just sit here and pity myself for a while, and then I'll want to take some pills to make it all better!"
"Pity yourself is all you did in prison!" Jack suddenly seethed. "And now you're out, and you can live your life. Sure, it's never going to be perfect. But I can't stand to see you hide away from people that don't matter. You used to be one of the strongest people I knew! On the island, it was always, 'I want to go with you' and 'let's go to the cockpit' and 'I want to help find Walt'!"
Kate glared at him, rigid. "There's a difference," she told him in a quiet, dangerous tone, "between strong and brave."
She stood up. "And there's a difference between what you need to handle and what you can stuff deep down inside you with a little help from a little orange bottle you get at the freaking CVS." She stormed out of the room, and as she did, knocked over the cup of tea. It splashed down her hand and arm and spattered all over her bare feet. Kate yelped in surprise and pain, and clutched her burnt hand to her chest.
Jack leapt to her side, but she ignored him. She swore under her breath as the first tears began to fall.