The wind was sharp as she ran towards her motel room, and it stung her already wet eyes. The door swung shut and rebounded. In a fit of anger she slammed it even harder and let out a quiet scream, filled with indignation.
She felt so weak and out of control as she fell to a heap on the floor at the end of her mothball ridden bed. But she had finally let one thing slip into her mind, for the first time in hours. Jack.
Why did he have to stay? Was he okay, oh god, was he? She sobbed inwardly as these clearly unanswerable questions swarmed her head.
She hated herself for letting it get to her, but how the hell would it not make her upset. Jack was…he was someone different. He was her friend, for sure, but the rest was a wonderful, upsetting, happy and sappy mess of a relationship. But she didn't care. He was gone and she would never see him again.
With this a new flow of choking tears shook her body. This was too much. She wanted this to stop. She never wanted to go back. Damn you, Jack Shepard! At once her crying was interrupted with a giggle. What a stubborn man, Jack was.
She was still upset, but she couldn't afford to be this vulnerable. With everything going on she had to be strong.
Kate walked to the tiny bathroom, and splashed some water on her face. This was going to be a hard couple of days.
She decided to take a shower to wash the island away. To eradicate any memories of Jack so she could focus. Focus on what she needed to do, not to remember. When you remember, you get hurt.
It happened with her mom, the woman she tested the law for, and my god did it pain her to think of her ailing mother. But it also caused her an immense amount of anger. Why would her mom just drop her when she saved her from that bastard Wayne?
It happened with anyone she had actually dated and loved. Maybe that was a small number, but it let her relive a time that she would never experience again. And it was upsetting each moment her dad popped into her mind. He loved her, but who knew if that was true anymore. Probably not, seeing who she had become.
It happened with everyone she loved, so why was she going to put herself through that pain?
That was that. No more remembering. The past doesn't exist, there is only the future ahead.
James sunk down into the black leather couch as he watched the clock adjacent to him. The second hand was constant, and time marched on. Time without his old life. Time without her.
He wasn't really inside himself at this particular moment. He was floating like a dreary raincloud above his own head. He couldn't feel anymore. He decided to block out any memories of the last three years. This fog had come over his mind and all he wanted was a drink. Something to feel good. Something that would help him to forget.
He had whiskey in the closet, he recalled. But he was too lazy to retrieve it. So he continued staring. The tick tock of the clock had become a mockery to his heart beat. How could he of all people be reduced to a slumped over version of a man, wallowing. Maybe this was who he really was. A man doomed from the beginning.
Just when he felt himself becoming tired and feeling able to close his eyes, he was interrupted by Miles. He could hear the familiar crinkle of grocery bags and the door shutting as he was accompanied in his apartment. He continued to stare ahead, ignoring the fact that he was no longer alone.
"Dude, are you just going sit there? Have you even moved since I left?" At this James finally moved his lips to say "No" in a gruff voice. He kept his head still and eyes still staring right ahead at that damn clock.
Next thing he knew a pillow was in his face. At once he was on his feet. "The hell was that?" he nearly screamed. Miles was done with James lying around and it had been only a handful of hours since they entered the apartment.
"You are, aren't you. You're just going to sit there whining over Juliet like some depressed old bastard, " he spat, tossing the pillow aside.
James sprung into action and hit Miles square in the chest. He backed up, raising his hands in surrender. "Dude.." James grabbed his tee-shirt and brought his face close, so they were only centimeters away from one another. His pupils grew ferocious like a time lapse video of a flower they show in little kid science classes. But there was a heart wrenching aspect mixed in with his stormy pair of eyes.
"Don't you say that! Don't you say her name again, ye hear me!" He waited a fraction of a second then screamed again, but wavering this time. "Do you!"
His heart was in knots, feelings were welling up like lava from a volcano and no matter how hard he tried to maintain a stern expression, he simply couldn't. His chiseled face softened and threatened to crumble. His eyes were glazed over. His slight wrinkles increased with the pain of the past twisting his flesh. He was reaching his breaking point and no amount of screaming could keep the tears in anymore. Just a few tears were present, but that was too many for James. Miles tentatively approached his friend, but Ford immediately shooed him away. "Go," he managed through strangled breath. "Just go."
His companion obliged and went in the direction of the spare room. James would not stand for this. His emotions where at an all time high, when just minutes ago they were buried so deep that they lay almost dead. He was numb, but the novocaine was beginning to wear off when he heard her name.
Juliet.
The wonderful title given to such a riveting woman rang in his ears with wistful melancholy and pure beauty. Not just her physical beauty came to mind, but her internal jubilance swam to the surface as well. Her laugh sounded like some cruel alarm and her need to do what was the best for every situation was caught in the back of his mind like gum to the sole of a shoe.
In his haze of thoughts he found himself clutching a crumpled piece of paper in his left hand like it was a lifeline. He peeled it out of his tight grasp to see what he was holding so intensely. The scrap of paper was balled up so small that it was difficult to reverse but James managed to carefully smooth it out. He was appalled at what he was staring at.
Kate's address.
