A/N: I realize this took a while and is still quite short – but there's some payoff, finally, I promise. Hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving!
By the way, as I stated before, I am no legal expert - I am not really sure how long this kind of trial would take, or how long deliberations would take, so it is all done for dramatic effect, and I apologize for any glaring mistakes.
Jack did not come to see her during the week between her testimony and closing arguments. He came to court every day, and sat silent and stone-faced in the first row, but he never came to see her before court or during recesses. He never spoke to her, or met her eyes directly. She could feel him at her back, every minute she sat in the courtroom, his penned-in anger. Did he really believe she'd been planning to betray him? He must think she was a pretty incompetent fugitive, if so. She suspected that he wasn't thinking, he was just letting his fear and cynicism run rampant. She wasn't the only one with trust issues.
Jack's mother brought the children for closing arguments. This was at DeWitt's specific request: he wanted the jury to see her as a mother, to see the happy family they would be destroying if they found her guilty. Kate didn't care about that; it was a chance, however brief, to touch them. They'd kept sending vids, one every week, and she could see them changing on that screen, learning new ways to speak and think and be. She needed to feel that, in their skin.
There was a late snowstorm, and the plane from LA was delayed, so Mrs. Shephard brought them in just before the judge entered. They were neatly dressed again, the boys in khakis and collared shirts and Emma in a blue dress with a cardigan, and her hair in two neat French braids. Mrs. Shephard was a handsome woman, straight-backed, with dyed dark hair and killer cheekbones. She looked tired, but mustered enough energy to give Kate a long look that found her utterly wanting. No warm adoptive mother here. Their eyes met for a long moment, and Kate felt the cold hazel settle into her stomach. The kids gave a joint cry, and the gaze broke, and Kate smiled, looking down at them.
Emma rushed up to the bar and tried to lift herself over. "Mommy! Mommy!"
"No, no, you have to stay on this side," Jack said, pulling her feet down to the floor.
Kate knelt down, beside the wooden railing, and put her arms through the bars. Emma pressed her face between them and Kate kissed her forehead, smoothed her hands over her braids. "Hey baby. You look so pretty."
"Mom, do you have to stay over there?" Will asked, leaning against the bar and Kate pushed herself up, still on her knees, and touched his face, and then Matt's, and nodded.
"Yeah, I do. Look at you, have you gotten taller?"
"Dad says I'm growing."
"You look pretty, Mom," Matt whispered, and Kate half-laughed, and touched his hair, and then Emma tried to wiggle through the bars and Jack had to pull her back before the bailiff intervened. The jury was shuffling into their seats, and Kate knew it was a spectacle, it could be seen as self-serving, her kneeling on the floor on the verge of tears trying to touch her children, but she couldn't seem to stop, couldn't stand up, until the bailiff said something to DeWitt, and he took her arm to lift her up.
"You just sit there quietly, okay?" she said. "Right between Dad and Grandma."
"Come on, Kate, sit down," DeWitt said. "That's enough."
No, it wasn't, not near enough. But she sat, and pressed a hand against her face, and looked forward, even though she could hear them sitting down, whispering, and Hurley greeting them – he had stayed, testifying to her character, making sure, he said, that DeWitt was worth the money he was spending – and he could touch them, give Will a high five, they were so close— And she was close. Closing arguments, and then the jury went away to deliberate. Soon enough she would know, one way or another. She just had to get through a little more. She put her hand down, in her lap, and lifted her head. She had made it through Wayne, and the crash, and the island. She could make it through this.
They said what everyone knew they would say. DeWitt pointed out that there was no physical evidence linking Kate to the crime. There were no material witnesses. There was only hearsay, speculation, and the mistaken flight of a scared young woman. Everyone ran away; in itself, that did not prove guilt. The people who knew Kate knew that she was a good person, that she deserved awards for her strength and leadership in a terrible situation, that civilization could be at least as civilized as a deserted island, where a group of disaster victims had chosen to believe that she was innocent until proven guilty, and had reaped the rewards of that decision in her tireless work for the common good.
In his turn, Daniels laid out her motives, her means, the flimsiness of her case, in which she used the friend whose death she had caused as an alibi, and just happened to leave town the day her stepfather was murdered. He discussed her disregard for other people, her disregard for the law. He pointed out that right up until her final arrest she had been carrying another passport, plotting new ways to escape. He asked that they not judge based on their sympathy for her, and her children seated right there in the front row. Maybe she had changed, maybe she hadn't. That wasn't the question. The question was whether she killed a man; and the answer was yes.
There was a fifteen minute recess after closing arguments, before the judge gave the jury their final instructions. Hurley and Mrs. Shephard split the kids between them for bathroom breaks. Jack followed Kate into the waiting room, and stood by the barred window, looking out.
She leaned against the back of a chair, her hands gripping the wood, waiting. She could see the movement of his back muscles even through his coat, the tension in his shoulders. He turned around to look at her. "Why didn't you tell me about the passport?"
"Do we have to do this now?" she asked.
"Oh, sorry. When would be better for you?" For such a fundamentally good man, he had a great aptitude for cruel sarcasm. Kate had always been astonished by that.
"I didn't tell you because I knew you would react like this," she said. "You would leap to conclusions—"
"You manipulated me!"
"Please, just listen for a second—"
"Why? So you can lie to me again? I have heard enough lies from you for a – for a lifetime. I cannot believe I was so gullible. You wanted to get married? You?" The scorn in his voice was like battery acid, burning holes in the part of her that needed to know he loved her.
"I did! I do. Jack, please."
"No. No. Admit it. Just tell me the truth for once, Kate. Tell me you were going to run away, if you had the chance. Tell me it wasn't real."
She thought of the island chapel, wood beams and dirt floor, and Emma dancing, and Jack holding her hands, and vowing. She had to put a hand over her mouth to hold back a sob. "It was. It was real, Jack. Please, you have to believe me. You said you would try."
"How can I?" he demanded. "You sit up there, so calm, so sure, and you lie, and you lie."
"Shh. Please, don't talk so loud."
"It doesn't matter," Jack snarled. "The case is closed. The jury can't hear me."
"Please. It was just so that I can be with you! So that I can be with the kids," Kate insisted.
"And what was the passport for?"
"Nothing, nothing. I was telling the truth, I just had it, I wasn't going to use it—"
"Stop it!" The distance had closed between them, and Jack grabbed her shoulders. His fingers dug in hard enough to bruise. "Stop lying to me."
She choked on the words, I'm not lying. She was, and she wasn't. "What about you, Jack? When you got up there and said I was innocent, you would know? What about when you said I was so helpful, and so good, and you could see a person's real colors? Was that all a lie, too? What about when you said you would be there with me, every step, and then it took you three months to get here?" Her voice was rough and low with anger and unshed tears. "Why is it okay for you to lie, but not for me?"
His grip loosened, and he swallowed, shaking his head. "If you weren't going to use the passport, why didn't you tell me?" She stared back at him, wondering what would hurt him more: another lie, or the truth. His hands tightened again, convulsively. His eyes were flinty, desperate. "Tell me the truth, Kate, or so help me god, I am not coming back."
"Sawyer gave it to me," she said. He tensed, a wave of anger and jealousy rolling through him. Kate hurried on before it could crash on her head. "It didn't mean anything, I wasn't going to use it, I just took it, because he was trying to help. I just took it, and I put it in my pocket, and I forgot about it. And that is it. That is all."
"He wanted you to run away with him," Jack said, very low and tight.
"Yes."
"And you wanted to go."
"I didn't go, Jack."
"But you wanted to."
"No."
"Stop lying."
"I'm not."
"Stop."
"Yes." Yes. Her shoulders shook, and she rocked forward, her voice a keening, almost soundless wail. "Yes. But I didn't."
Silence. Kate raked her hair back, and looked at him. The rage was gone, completely; he was just looking at her, his face completely impenetrable. Even after all these years, she could not tell if he was disgusted, if he understood, if he was disappointed in her, or ready to forgive. He just stared, and then the recess was over.
The judge instructed the jury that they must produce a unanimous verdict for each separate charge. He explained that to be found guilty, there must be no reasonable doubt. He pointed out that the charge of murder in the first degree required that the crime be premeditated. He said all of this in a weary tone, as if it meant nothing to him. Like a story you don't really want to tell at a cocktail party.
Kate looked at the faces of the jury members. One looked back, an older man, but she couldn't meet his eyes.
They took her back to her cell after the jury began deliberations. It could be, DeWitt explained, days. They had to review the evidence for each separate crime, and if there were any disagreements, try to resolve them. These sorts of things took a while, even in clear cut cases. She shouldn't worry.
In her cell, she leaned her forehead against the concrete wall, and tried to picture anything but Jack's face. Emma in her dress, Matt's eyelashes, Will's straight back and grown-up demeanor. That juror, who looked at her. Hurley, in a suit, taking the stand. Anything but Jack, who might have decided not to forgive her for this… not betrayal. She hadn't betrayed him. She hadn't done anything. But that wouldn't matter if he didn't want to forgive her; like her real guilt wouldn't matter if the jury found her innocent. There was something strange and not right about any of this. If the world really was fair, she would be locked up for the rest of her life, but Jack, at least, would trust her.
She was still standing there, with her forehead against the stone, when they came back for her. The jury had returned a verdict, in one hour and twenty three minutes.
They'd been at the park, making a snowman, when DeWitt called Jack to come back to court. The kids were wearing snowsuits now over their nice clothes, and they had pink cheeks and hair wet with melted snow. Kate didn't look at Jack, because she didn't want to see him hoping she would be found guilty.
The jury members looked grave, silent. They still avoided her eyes, and she fixed her gaze on the table. Footsteps, carrying the verdict to the judge, who looked it over. "Madam Foreperson, have you reached an unanimous verdict?"
"We have, your honor."
"What find you?"
Kate looked up. The forewoman had red hair, dyed, and deep lines around her mouth. She was looking at a piece of paper held in her hand. "For the crime of murder in the first degree, we find the defendant not guilty."
There was a gasp — Will, she thought, he was old enough to understand that much. She couldn't move. The woman was still talking. "For the crime of resisting arrest, we find the defendant guilty. For the crime of escaping the custody of law enforcement, we find the defendant guilty. For the crime of armed robbery, we find the defendant guilty. For the crime of document fraud, we find the defendant guilty."
"What does that mean?" Matt whispered behind her. Not guilty, guilty. She was free and not free. Free of Wayne, and not free of herself.
DeWitt put his hand on her arm. "Kate, this is good news," he said. "Congratulations. Now, there'll be a sentencing hearing for the lesser crimes—"
The judge was thanking the jury for their service. There was a buzz behind, all the voices blending together. She didn't hear Jack's among them. She couldn't think. "The sentencing hearing is set for tomorrow morning at 10 am—"
"Your honor, I'd like to request an extension," DeWitt said, standing up. "Some of the witnesses I'd like to call are several thousand miles away, and prefer not to fly, for reasons I think we can all appreciate."
"How long do you need?"
"Just until Monday, if that pleases the court."
"That's fine. Monday at 10 am, we will hear arguments for sentencing. Bailiff, please return to the prisoner to the jail in the meantime."
Back to jail. Only now she was the prisoner and not the defendant. Panic closed her throat. DeWitt was talking but she wasn't listening. Free of Wayne, but not of herself.
"Kate, listen to me. This is going to be fine. We'll put all your friends up there, your husband, everyone will talk about what a good citizen you are. Maximum is ten years, but I'm betting they knock it down to three, with good behavior you're out in 18 months."
Kate was nodding, and she turned to look over her shoulder at her kids, who looked confused — "but if Mommy didn't do it, then why can't she come home with us now?" Emma was asking Hurley. Jack just looked at her, just kept looking, his lips parted, expressionless. Free of Wayne, she thought, but not of herself.