Memorial Day

Note: This is another addition in a series of holiday-themed stories that began with a Halloween celebration (chapter one of this monstrous compilation). It's been awhile since I updated, so, as a reminder, this alternate universe was formed before we knew a lot. In this world, the survivors have settled down on the island after a truce with the Others. Jack went off with the Others to be with Juliet. Sayid and Claire are married. Charlie is dead, but Eko is still alive. Kate has a son with Sawyer, and Sun has a daughter with Jin.

Summary: Memorial Day stirs up memories for Sayid, Kate, Sawyer, and Claire.

Chapter One

"Who is it?" Kate called through the open window. The knocking on the door came in firm, precisely spaced raps. She knew only one person who knocked liked that, but the question was a reflex.

"It is I." And then after a pause, "Sayid."

Kate's snort traveled through the open window.

"What is so amusing?"

Kate opened the door and stepped out into the sun. The sand beneath her feet went from warm to hot in an instant. She sunk her toes into it and wiggled until she had adjusted to the burning sensation. The sound of the waves was no longer muffled as it had been inside the hut.

In the first few months after the treaty, opening the door to the sound of the ocean's roar always resulted in a faint sense of disappointment. The voice of the waves was an audible reminder of the fact that they were surrounded on all sides by a chasm that would keep them forever separated from civilization. Yet they had since built, if not exactly a civilization, at least a workable society. The ocean no longer seemed to moan. For better or for worse, this was home.

"Just say, 'It's me,'" she advised Sayid.

"In the English construction, I is in fact the subject of the sentence. It is not the object, and therefore the object pronoun—"

"Just say me," Kate repeated. "It's been five years since we crashed. You can start to assimilate." Her lips curled into a smile at about the same time as his own.

"It's me," he said, and then the smile faded partly, and, with greater seriousness, he asked, softly, "How are you?"

She looked down the shore to where Sawyer was attempting to fly a kite with their four- year old son. James Junior was getting frustrated that the wind would not take hold of the material, and he was tugging the string and screaming—she could not hear, but she could guess—"It's not fair! It's not fair!" Sawyer was reacting as he always did to his son's impatience—she could not quite see, but she could guess—with clenched teeth and muffled cursing and finally by ripping the kite from his son's hands and walking away with it.

"Fine," she said, in a voice that said, "Not fine."

Sayid followed her gaze. "He's trying."

"Yeah," Kate said. "Well, he's failing. Hurley told you my request?"

Sayid nodded. "The way the laws are set up, everything is automatically divided evenly. As council chair, I'll officially strike through the marriage date in the community record book. You two divide the property yourselves and make your own custody arrangements. If you can't agree, I will call the council together for negotiations."

Kate put her hands on her hips. She looked at the ocean, not at Sayid. "We'll work it out ourselves. Jimmy's living with me. Sawyer's going to build his own place."

"Kate."

His voice drew her eyes back to him.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well, someone has to have the first divorce on the island, right? We have to build some kind of precedent for posterity."

Sayid didn't say anything. Kate didn't expect him to. He didn't dispense advice or offer judgments. He said what had to be said, and then he stood in silence. It was his way.

"Friday is memorial day," she said. That was good, she thought. Talking about the dead was less painful than talking about the living. Of course, she didn't have anyone truly close to her buried in that cemetery. She had forgotten Sayid did. She looked away so she wouldn't have to see how the words affected him. It had been a long time, and Sayid had built a new life with Claire. She couldn't guess how much the memory still pained him.

"Yes," he replied. "Hurley's coordinating the ceremonies, of course."

Hurley was elected to the post of community events coordinator on the council every election without fail. Sayid was elected to the council every election without fail as well, although he was not always voted to be the chair, and he had spoken of possibly stepping down next year and not serving at all.

"Eko will be giving the eulogy again," Sayid said. She dared to look at his eyes now. Whatever emotion may have been there before had flitted past, and he was all business. "No one else wanted to. One hopes it will be a little…shorter this year."

Kate chuckled. "He's poetic though, at least, right?"

Sayid's eyes shrugged upward and then steadied. "Some of us don't have the energy to decipher parables." Then he smiled. It was a partly apologetic, partly amused, partly pained smile. It was a strange combination to see on his face. "Yet he is a good public speaker. Claire was deeply moved by his speech last year."

Kate remembered; she remembered Sayid leaving Aaron with Sun and then gently leading Claire away from the service. Kate had wondered what it was like for them, as a couple, to endure that holiday, when they had both lost someone they had loved and yet had found one another. Was it strange? Knowing each might be mourning another, thinking of a past relationship? Or was it somehow comforting? She couldn't guess what it must feel like for them, but they got through it somehow; somehow, they got through everything together: Aaron's strange illness, from which he had recovered; Sayid's injury to his arm, which had taken almost a year to heal; and their inability to conceive a child together. Somehow, they got through it all.

Yet she and Sawyer couldn't even manage to get through dinner. Of course, Sawyer was nothing like Sayid. It would have been easy to blame Sawyer for the break-up. But she couldn't, even though she wanted to. Sayid was right. He had been trying. She guessed that, sometimes, trying just wasn't enough.

"I've got to get Jimmy for his lessons," she said, and she walked straight past Sayid without waiting for him to say good-bye.