Disclaimer: I don't own Lost or anything affiliated with it.
A.N: I know I said I wouldn't post this today, but chapter 2 looked so extremely little, and I personally hate posts like that so I just couldn't do that to you. So here you go. Parts 3 and four will also be up today.
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He sank to his knees in front of the two crosses. The sun had all but set, but the moon provided enough light for him to see in the dark. The crosses were identical to the other ones, made out of fairly straight pieces of wood, wound together with either strips of tarp or string. He could make out the names even in the darkness; the left one said James Sawyer Ford, the right one Jack Shephard. Identical daisy chains hang on them, Sawyer's freshly maid, his own one faded. He reached out to touch his cross, noticing a piece of black string hanging around it. He recognized it as the string he had kept the key to the gun case on. Sawyer's cross was bare apart from the daisy chain. There were however small flowers at the base of his cross, which there wasn't at his own. He wondered if Kate had put them there. Had she made the daisy chains too? Was his a pity one, because no one else really cared? He didn't want to know, so he tore it from the cross, ripping it apart before throwing it into the underbrush.
He wished someone would have told him that they had supposed him dead. He thought that he had had a right to know. Was that why no one talked to him except for Rose? Because he was supposed to be dead? Angrily he got to his feet, still staring at the two crosses. It made him feel sick, seeing his own cross. Supposed to be dead? He kicked at the ground, turfs flying about angrily. Was that why Kate wouldn't talk to him, or even come near him? Because she had been happy with him dead? The man who killed the man she loved? Angry and sickened he turned away to leave, stopping abruptly at the sight of Kate just a few meters away, watching him steadily in the light of a torch.
"A cross?" He asked, the words smacking her in the face. "You assumed I was dead?" He hadn't meant for it to sound as if that was what disgusted him, but he could see on her face, through the way she went into defense-mode, that that was how she perceived it.
"They told us you weren't coming back! What were we supposed to think, Jack?" He could see her tears in the warm light from the torch. She wiped at them furiously, and he thought bitterly that she didn't even want to admit that it had hurt her to find that he was dead. "They told us that you were gone, both of you, and that we shouldn't bother looking for you." She was crying wildly now, no longer bothering with wiping the tears away. "I… I…" The words caught in her throat, but he didn't want to hear them anyway.
"You gave up? You left me there for three months?" His words were still poison, but he didn't know why he blamed them. He knew that the Hydra was placed on another island, and without a boat it would have been hard to get there. He knew that there was no possible way they could have rescued him, but it hurt him a little that they hadn't tried.
"Jack!" She exclaimed, clearly offended by the accusation, the torch flaring about as her hand gestured wildly in the air. "I… they told us you were gone. They said there was nothing for us to do." She tried to wipe at her tears, her voice catching in her throat, cut off by sobs. "We tried Jack, but they said you were dead." He smirked at her, giving off a hollow laugh.
"Well obviously I'm not." She flinched, ducking her head along with the torch. "Are you disappointed I was the one to come back and not Sawyer? Is that why you've avoided me?" Her head snapped up at the question, her eyes filled with tears again. She shook her head.
"N-no… I… I…" She stumbled over the words before giving up on it completely, and he didn't quite know what to make of it.
"You don't have to pretend, Kate." He told her, just wishing for some honesty from her for once. "I know you loved him. I know what you did after they took you back to your cage." Her face went pale and blank. She shook her head, almost unconsciously, flipping the torch about in the air, her entire body shaking. Jack felt himself grow physically ill. Was this how she would react to anything he would mention that had to do with Sawyer? Had she really loved him that much? He turned to leave, his shoulders slumped, his head hanging.
"Did they… did they make you watch that?" Her voice was nothing but a whisper, but he stopped, facing away from her. He turned his head over his shoulder, glancing at her. She was still shaking a little, her face still blank in the light of the torch. "I never… I'm sorry Jack."
"You're sorry?" He blurted out, his mind stumbling to make some sort of sense out of it all. "Sorry I saw it? Sorry you screwed Sawyer? Sorry for what, Kate?" Her free hand wrapped itself around her chest defensively at the bitterness of his voice, her eyes glistening as they met his.
"I'm sorry I hurt you! I'm sorry they hurt you." Her voice was calm, honest even, he thought with a smirk, but shook it off. "I never wanted to hurt you, Jack." He laughed out loud at that one, even though he knew deep down that it was the truth. He could see her shy away from him at the sound of his hollow and rough laughter that wouldn't stop.
"Yeah, that's funny Kate." He said, still laughing his joyless laugh. He turned away from her fully, all too aware of the sounds of her sobs, heartbreakingly silent. Instead of walking away, something he knew he wasn't capable of doing, he just stood there, listening to her cry. His heart ached, like it always did when she was sad. On a more shallow level he hoped that she knew how much he disliked what she had done. How much he had hurt because of her decisions. He heard her whisper his name, choked in between the sobs. He closed his eyes hard, fighting against the guilt in his chest. No matter how much it might have hurt to see her naked with Sawyer, he couldn't imagine how she must feel, having lost the man she loved. Slowly he turned around again, taking in her shaking body, her tear drenched cheeks.
"I'm sorry about Sawyer." He said, startling the both of them with the softness of his voice. She looked up at him, the expression on her face showing her hurt and discomfort. "I never meant… I mean, I didn't think they would actually, you know…" She shook her head, silencing him. He ignored her, knowing that he had to say what he felt. "Ben promised to get me off the island, Kate. If I did the operation. I didn't want to at first…" He wondered if he should tell her that he hadn't made up his mind until he had seen her and Sawyer on the monitor in the control room. "I didn't want to leave without you."
"But still you did it…" Her voice was soft too, devoid of any feelings. He nodded solemnly, glancing at the crosses. His and Sawyer's. How could he ever explain that he had done the operation only to get her out of there? How could he tell her that what she had done with Sawyer had hurt him so much that he had seriously considered leaving them all on the island; deserted his fellow survivors just like Michael had?
"Yeah, I… It was driving me crazy, Kate. I needed to get out of there." He tried not to see the disappointed look in her eyes; tried not to think of what it meant. He wondered if she knew that he had been aware he was throwing away his only chance to get home when he took Ben hostage to get her out of there. He wondered if she knew that killing Ben had been a mistake, a miscalculation. He didn't quite know how to tell her.
"What made you change you mind?" She asked quietly, her voice quivering. "Why did you blow your chance?" He wanted to say that it was because he loved her, because he couldn't watch her suffer like he knew she did.
"I…" He shrugged, not wanting to risk everything and get rejected. "Guilt kicked in I guess." She looked at him as if she expected him to say something more. Something else. She didn't cry when only faced with silence, she only gave a deep sigh and sat down between the two crosses. Carefully she picked the black string from his cross; holding it in her hand like it was precious glass. He wondered if she actually thought it might break, or if she was just numb from tiredness. He looked at her, mesmerized by her movements, as she reached out to touch his cross, her hand stroking the smooth wood. Her fingers traced his name, bending softly into a capital J, followed slowly by an A and a C and a sharp, edgy K. She stopped there, her finger still on the cross; still resting against that K. It seemed obvious, even to him that it wasn't the first time she had done that. Traced his name.
"I used to come here everyday." She said quietly, and he had to strain to hear her in the slight rustle from the wind. "The day after I made it back, Sayid, Locke and me went out looking for you. Friendly and Pickett found us by night fall. They told us that you had let Ben die, and that the both of you had been punished for that." She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder; he could see that she was crying again. "Friendly said that you weren't going to come back. Pickett just grinned, and he said that Sawyer had got what he had asked for. Pickett had tried to kill him ever since his wife had died, so I knew what he meant. Friendly said that I should be grateful that the two of you had given your lives to set me free and that I should accept that you weren't coming back." She stopped to dry her tears; Jack felt his heart beat fast in his chest, angrier than ever with his captors. She gave him a weak smile. "I think Sayid carried me back to camp."
Jack thought about when they had brought him out to see Sawyer's body. The other man's shirt had been bloody; splatters of deep red where there weren't supposed to be any. On instinct he had kneeled next to his fellow survivor, checked for a pulse, for breath, for signs of life. None. He remembered the extreme anger. The fear for his own, but mostly for Kate's, life. He had asked about her as they had dragged him back inside. He had asked if she was alright, but no one had bothered to answer him. Until three days ago he had lived on the hope that, in the best of worlds, she was back at the beach unharmed.
"Claire and Charlie helped me make the crosses." Kate said, bringing him back to reality. She turned to him fully, only meters from his legs. He fidgeted for a while, feeling incredibly awkward standing there in front of her; before sitting down, their knees decimeters apart. She held out her hand, the piece of black string hanging from her fingers. "It was the only thing you had that could be hung on a cross." She said, motioning for him to take it. He shook his head.
"I don't want it." He said; his voice edgy and cold, even to himself. "It's just a piece of string, it doesn't mean anything." She withdrew her hand, the string twisted between her fingers and she smiled sadly.
"Yeah, maybe you're right." She said, the sad smile still on her lips, still taking time to fold the string up and put it carefully in the pocket of her jeans. She stood up quickly after that, brushing the sand from her jeans. "I should just take the cross down then, shouldn't I? I mean, that's why I came here in the first place." She rambled, her hands lodged firmly in the pockets of her pants. "I'm sorry you had to see it…" She sat down between the crosses again, seemingly reluctant to pull the cross out of the ground. Jack stood up as well, watching her as she seemed to struggle with her emotions. He made to move, taking a few steps in the direction of the camp.
"I'm sorry it's not his cross you're taking down." He said quietly, hoping to make her see that he truly felt bad for what he had done. Her head flung around, and she was on her feet in a matter of seconds. Tears were on her face, even though he could see that she was furious.
"Don't say that!" She hissed, her tears barely controlled, and he felt confused. Truly confused. "Don't you dare say that!" She was shaking, but he didn't know if it was with tears of from anger. Suddenly he didn't understand. Didn't understand her or her behavior. Her arms hugged tight around herself, and he hurt at the sight of her.
"You loved him, and I caused his death; how the hell can you say you don't wish he was back instead of me?" He was as furious as she now, dead bent on having her understand why she needed to hate him. She stared at him, and he met her gaze, both of them seething. He was the first one to back down, shaking his head. "Don't bother with the cross, Kate." He hung his head, as he started to walk back to camp. Her hand on his elbow stopped him after only a couple of meters.
"Jack?" Even though her voice was merely a whisper, the panic held in it was enough for him to turn around. Her eyes were big and frightened, showing the same barely contained panic as her voice. She was pale, and looked awfully tired, but none the less his heart skipped a beat at her beauty. He gave a deep sigh and turned away again, breaking free from her hold on his arm. He started walking back to camp, surprised to find that she didn't go after him. When he took a quick glance backwards all he could see was her silhouette in the light from the moon and the torch. Still he could see that she was crying.