Hey there! Sorry about the long wait, I really meant to have this chapter finished months ago. I hope you enjoy it!
Chapter 14.
Kate drove mindlessly, as she had been doing for several hours. She knew exactly where she was going and the exact route to take, and so she barely had to pay any attention to what she was doing. It had allowed her mind to turn to a never ending cycle of thoughts early on in the trip, and now she was having immense difficulty snapping out of it.
Ever since she'd started driving, the cycle had started with a rehashing of the events that had led her here. Her conversation with Sawyer would replay in her head. She analysed every word for its individual meaning, focussing for longer on those she thought were more important. She'd consider the context of every sentence, and the tone in which they were delivered, searching for meanings she hadn't noticed the first time around. Every question was matched with its answer, to determine if anything had been left unsaid. Facial expressions and body language was scrutinised next, followed by an exact measurement of each silence. Once everything had been picked apart so that the whole piece was no longer recognisable, her mind would go numb, exhausted. This respite only ever lasted as long as was needed for her mind to recoup, before the agonising cycle would begin anew.
Each time passed her into exhaustion without revealing any new facts or feelings. Each time, she reached the resting stage faster than before and stayed there longer, until she was in an almost constant state of mental lethargy.
Still, there was enough time between those moments for her to question whether she was doing the right thing. She hadn't really wanted to leave. Even while she was packing, she'd debated whether she'd even get to the point of packing her things in her car. By packing, she'd been giving herself time to think, while at the same time getting prepared to run in case she'd decided it was ultimately what she needed to do.
It was Sawyer who'd pushed her to it, she thought. Except, she knew that wasn't quite right. As soon as he saw what she was doing, she'd figured she'd have to leave. Even if it was just for one night, to save face. Even though Sawyer undoubtedly would have seen through her act, she could have pretended to herself that she wasn't being melodramatic, putting on a show to get what she wanted.
And then she'd asked him if he wanted her to leave. It had been a stupid thing to do. She knew perfectly well how stubborn they both were, that neither would give in to the other.
If he'd asked her to stay, she would have done it. But that would have meant him backing down and swallowing his pride. She hadn't really thought he'd do that.
On the other hand, if he'd told her to leave, she would have had to do it, because there was no way she'd ever let him call her bluff. After she'd left, it would only have been a matter of time before one of them caved. And neither of them would have had to admit defeat. The "Layla misses her Dad" excuse would have gotten them through a reunion without any accusations or acceptances on their parts.
But that hadn't happened. He'd done what she'd never imagined. She believed him when he said he just wanted her to be safe. The decision to leave had been her own, and she didn't know what would happen now.
She wasn't expecting a call, begging her to come home. And she knew that she wouldn't make up an excuse to go home of her own accord. Right now, she wasn't even sure when or if she would go home. It wasn't a matter of getting even with Sawyer, or giving him time to think things through. She needed the time for herself. She needed to sort through the conflicting thoughts and emotions and put an end to this confusion. She needed to figure out who she was and what she wanted.
Suddenly realising just how long she'd been on the road, Kate decided it was time for a break. A few more minutes of driving led her to a small diner. The sight of it was another reminder of her mother's life, but she forced the thought aside. The country was littered with these places after all, she couldn't allow herself to get caught up in memories every time she passed one.
Parking the car, she went through the motions of extracting Layla from her car seat, entering the small establishment, and ordering. She was vaguely wondering how long the numbness would last this time when her cell phone rang sharply. As she dug around in her bag trying to locate it, she noticed Layla looking on inquisitively.
"It's Hurley," Kate told her once the cell was finally in her hand. She kept her voice bright; refusing to let on that a small part of her had been hoping it was Sawyer. However, Layla's eyes lit up at the name, causing Kate to smile as she answered.
"Hey Hurley," she said, feeling the brightness in her voice becoming real in light of her daughter's obvious glee.
"Hey," Hurley replied. Silence followed. Kate's momentary happiness started to sink, as though the Hurley's single syllable was a black hole reeling it in. He knew.
"Sawyer told you." It wasn't a question. In a way, it was a relief knowing that someone else knew. There was now someone she didn't have to pretend with. And now she couldn't ignore what had happened. Neither could Sawyer. Thanks to Hurley's involvement, they would be forced to deal with this. She wondered if maybe that was why Sawyer had told him in the first place.
"He told me his version," Hurley answered, cautiously.
Dread filled Kate's heart, followed quickly by burning anger. Was Sawyer blaming her?
"What do you mean his version? What did he say?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm and even. It was hard. She felt like the wind had been knocked out of her; the simple act of breathing wasn't coming as naturally as it should.
"He's blaming himself for it all," Hurley said quickly. He'd obviously realised how she'd taken his words, and wanted to rectify the situation.
It made Kate think. Relief crept in; it was marginal, but it was there. He cared, and he would miss them. It should have been obvious to her that he'd feel that way, and it certainly was now, but the confirmation that this separation would torment him as much as it would her eased her burden slightly.
Hurley continued, "He said he went too far, comparing you to your Mom."
"Maybe he was right," Kate said quietly before she could stop herself. Hurley didn't answer, for which Kate was relieved. She wasn't ready yet for someone to try to convince her she was wrong. Words weren't enough, and coming from a friend they were especially meaningless. Those comforting phrases wouldn't be counted on to contain any element of unbiased truth.
Still, a glimmer of comfort did creep through her barricade. The knowledge that Sawyer regretted his words somehow made a difference. She didn't doubt herself any less, but it helped to know that he didn't really doubt her the way he'd said.
"Sounds like the version he told you was the real one," Kate said, attempting a joking manner, yet not quite achieving it. Still, she thought she heard Hurley chuckle briefly on the other end of the line.
"He asked you to call, didn't he." Again, Kate wasn't asking a question. She knew Sawyer and Hurley too well, she knew how close their bond was, and she knew that Hurley was the only one Sawyer would trust enough to turn to.
"Yeah," Hurley admitted. "He said he meant what he told you. He said to tell you he'll give you all the time you need."
Kate smiled gratefully. She didn't have a chance to answer though; at that moment Layla had started banging a fork against the table a little too loudly for the comfort of her fellow diners.
"And Kate?" Hurley added as she pulled the fork out of her daughter's tight grasp.
"Yeah?" she replied distractedly, trying to prevent an onslaught of tears over the loss of a new toy by pulling a real toy out of her bag. The trick worked, and Kate was able to return her full attention to the conversation just in time for Hurley's declaration.
"Just so you know, I'm not taking sides in this," he told her, sounding a little awkward.
"I'm not expecting you to," she replied, confused by both his tone and the fact that he'd felt it was something he'd needed to say at all.
He was quick to clarify, "No, I mean, I know I always seem like Sawyer's friend. But I'm yours too. So, anytime you want to talk..."
He trailed off as Kate felt tears prick at her eyes. She fought them back. She hadn't consciously realised it, but she had been expecting Hurley to be Sawyer's friend in all this. Not that she'd thought he'd shun her or anything dramatic, but she'd recently felt like a bit of an outsider around those two. If there was ever a time that loyalties would be divided, she'd assumed Hurley would have Sawyer's back. It was nice to know that Hurley had enough love to go around.
"Thanks, Hurley," she managed to say eventually.
"And I won't tell Sawyer anything you don't want me to, either," Hurley added.
"Okay," Kate replied.
"So," Hurley continued briskly, now that the emotional stuff was out of the way. "Do you think you'll be gone awhile?"
"I don't know," Kate replied, a little anxiety building up in her. "I just need to sort things out, and I don't know how long that'll take."
"Yeah, but you are coming back, right?" Hurley asked hopefully. "I mean, it's not over between you is it?"
Kate didn't answer. She didn't know what the answer was. She didn't think it was over. She didn't really want it to be; despite recent developments the time she'd spent with Sawyer in her life had been the best she'd ever had. She couldn't believe that it could just have ended. It didn't feel over.
Yet, something was stopping her from telling Hurley that. Maybe it was some childish belief that if she spoke her wish out loud it wouldn't come true. Maybe she didn't trust her instincts enough. After all, she'd never before been in a relationship like this one, how was she supposed to know what it felt like when it was over?
Luckily, Layla started fussing again, and she was saved from having to say anything.
"Listen Hurley, I've gotta go," she said suddenly, already putting the question out of her mind.
Hurley didn't query the abrupt end to the conversation. "Okay then. Keep me updated."
"I will," Kate promised before hanging up.
Kate picked up Layla and settled her on her lap, trying to shush her. It didn't work. Kate figured she'd just grown bored with her surroundings. There was nothing new to see, and she wasn't allowed to explore, so she grew frustrated. General fussing turned to real crying, which gradually grew louder.
They started to attract looks from onlookers, ranging from glares to stares born from curiosity. It wasn't anything unusual. Kate was apparently still a famous face; whether it was from the trial or the rescue from the island she wasn't sure. Not to mention the fact that a screaming child never failed to attract attention.
Usually, she could deal with it. Today, it made her anxious. It reminded her of when she was on the run, the paranoia, the constant looking over her shoulder to see if the ones staring were a danger to her. The exhausting stress, and the depression. She couldn't have that with a toddler in tow.
Getting everything together and paying the bill, she went back to the car, trying to ignore the eyes watching her leave. Thankfully, Layla had finally started to settle the minute they started moving. Within minutes they were back in the car, and off again.
Back on the road, Kate tried to focus on the task at hand. Anything to avoid being caught up again in the cycle she'd just managed to escape. She took note of every other car on the road; their speed, the slight way some of them veered to the side of the road before being pulled back on course by their drivers. For awhile, Layla was awake, so she talked to her. It was easy not to have to deal with her own thoughts while she was pointing out different parts of the scenery, reading aloud license plates and bumper stickers, and commenting on songs on the radio.
Eventually though, Layla fell asleep, and so Kate fell quiet. She didn't think her voice would wake her sleeping daughter; in fact, she was pretty sure it was what had put her to sleep in the first place. It was her self-consciousness that kept her quiet. With her state of mind as it was, she didn't really need to be talking to herself. She already felt crazy enough.
Too soon, the scenery lost its interest. Instead, Kate began to glance around the interior of her car, a few seconds at a time whenever she could risk taking her eyes off the road. She noticed things she never had before; the intricacies of the pattern of the seat covers, the fine layer of dust covering certain areas. It was boring, so boring, but in that bizarre, fascinating way that offers a relief from something that it would be better to avoid.
Then, something of interest caught her eye. A little toy plane, tossed casually onto the front seat of the car along with her purse. As soon as she saw it, she forced her eyes back on the road and kept them there. She didn't want to look at Tom's plane.
She didn't know why she'd even brought it. She couldn't remember grabbing it. She kept it around at home, a keepsake, the only thing she had of Tom's. It was something to remind her of him, even if too often it reminded her of how he'd died.
Maybe, by packing it she was subconsciously admitting that she might be gone awhile. She didn't need it that badly. She definitely didn't need it for a one night trip. The thought depressed her.
Even though she avoided looking at the plane, she couldn't stop the image of it rising to the forefront of her mind. With it came a new thought. It occurred to her that because of who she was and what she'd done, Tom's child was now growing up without a father.
She'd always known it, of course. Every single thing she'd done in the past that had led to misery for someone else had resulted in hours, days, even weeks of mental anguish for her. She kept a mental list of all the lives she'd ruined; how, and to what degree. Now she was revisiting this name, and she was realising that she hadn't considered it properly before.
Now, she felt like she was doing the same thing to her own child. Because of a decision she'd made, her daughter could find herself growing up without a father. And then, she was back where she'd started. Agonising over whether she'd done the right thing in leaving Sawyer.
But she wasn't leaving him. She mentally kicked herself for thinking that. It wasn't over; Layla wasn't fatherless. She was just taking some time to think.
And even if it did go that far, it would be because it was the right thing, wouldn't it? It would be because she'd decided it was the right thing to do. She could hardly compare herself to a widow.
A small noise from the back seat offered a welcome distraction, and Kate smiled in relief at the sight of Layla waking up, yawning and rubbing her eyes. At the same time, she noticed a park beside the road, and decided it was a chance for another break, a chance for both of them to stretch their legs.
Both were eager to escape the confines of the car, so it was only moments before Kate had Layla out of her car seat and they were enjoying the feel of the sun on their faces. Kate spotted a small playground nearby and started to lead Layla towards it, but the little girl had other ideas. She had her mind set on exploring a group of trees. Before long Layla was examining the tree's bark, in awe of the rough feeling it presented against her hand, while Kate wondered if her daughter was too small for a lesson in tree climbing. She wondered what Sawyer would think.
For the first time since she'd left, she wondered where he was, what he was doing. He'd spoken to Hurley; that much she knew. Was he alone in their house, wallowing in guilt and self-pity? Was he getting drunk in a bar? Was he with Hurley? Was he with Cassidy?
The thought came out of nowhere, but the worry was fully formed. The fear that had appeared upon the discovery of Sawyer's other family had apparently been festering in her subconscious ever since.
Had Sawyer really changed, or was history repeating itself? Would he go back to Cassidy if Kate left for good? Could he replace her and Layla so easily? Was Layla a replacement, a second chance, a way to make up for past mistakes?
She cast her mind back to when she was pregnant, replaying Sawyer's reaction. He hadn't been keen initially. She wondered about his misgivings. He'd never said it then, but the way he'd dealt with finding out about Clementine must have made him think he'd be a bad father. At least, it would have been one of the reasons why he'd thought that. Now after having had Layla in his life, he knew what kind of father he was capable of being. It was safe for him, now, to be around his first child.
Then again, this current disaster stemmed from his old fears about his ability. If that affected how he felt about Layla, surely the same would go for his feelings about Clementine. In that case, it seemed pretty unlikely that he'd immediately rush to her side.
The thought reassured Kate a little, especially when combined with the knowledge that Cassidy had said she didn't want him back. She'd said he'd never loved her the way he loved Kate.
The feeling didn't linger long however, as yet another wave of doubt was soon crashing over her. What if she'd been lying? It wasn't completely impossible.
And then there was Clementine. What if Cassidy thought she'd be better off with her father around? Would it be reason enough for her to forge another relationship with him? Supposing, of course, that he did actually go back to her.
Which lead her back to her first worry: how long would he wait for her? She needed time to think, and he'd said he'd give her that, but it was easy to promise something when you weren't sure of all the details.
Just as she was pondering how much time she could afford to take, she was interrupted from her thoughts once again by the ringing of her cell phone. This time, she was able to pull it out of her bag quickly. The sight of Jack's name on her caller id made her stomach drop, and for a moment she considered not answering. Still, it was a distraction, an escape from her thoughts, and it was what she needed. After taking another moment to brace herself, she answered.
"Hey."
"Hey," he replied. There was an awkward pause during which Kate analysed that one syllable, hoping to figure out how he was. Before she could quite work it out, he spoke again, giving her more to go on.
"How are you?" He sounded... normal. Sober. The way he used to before leaving the island. It was encouraging, and Kate allowed herself to relax. Here was an outlet, a chance to forget her problems.
"I'm fine," she replied cautiously. She didn't want Jack to know how she was really doing. She didn't want him to know what had happened. It wasn't any business of his, and he had a way of making her feel inferior, that she couldn't do anything right. She didn't need that at the moment.
Again, there was a pause. Kate wondered why he'd called. Ever since they'd been rescued, he'd only had one reason for getting in touch with her.
"How's Sawyer? And Layla?" Jack asked suddenly. Kate was surprised by his interest. Still, it was a topic, a way out of the silence.
"Layla's great! She's growing up so fast; I can't believe it." Kate spilled out stories for awhile; accomplishments and adventures she'd witnessed her daughter partake. Jack listened, responded occasionally, laughed. It felt normal. She didn't mention Sawyer, and if Jack noticed, he didn't say anything.
"How are things with you? What have you been doing?" Kate asked when she'd run out of things to say about her daughter. She felt that she had to ask, out of politeness more than anything, yet she was apprehensive about his answer. She hadn't become convinced that he didn't have some ulterior motive for calling.
"Oh, you know, work's been keeping me busy," he replied, sounding off-handed. Kate could feel there was something he wasn't saying, and she was pretty sure she knew what it was. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, bracing herself for what she knew was coming.
"Actually..."
There it was.
"The reason I called is...
Stay calm, she told herself.
"I think I figured out where the island is."
Kate was surprised. It wasn't quite what she'd expected. How could he have found the island? As she turned this revelation over in her mind, Layla presented her with a pebble she'd found, a perfect worry stone. Kate smiled at her timing.
Rubbing her thumb over the smooth surface of the rock, she carefully formed her response. "Do you have exact co-ordinates?" she asked, keeping her tone even. She wanted to keep the conversation calm for as long as possible, knowing an outburst was inevitable.
Jack sounded flustered at her question. "No, not yet, but I've got it narrowed down to a pretty small area."
Kate was unconvinced, but she didn't say anything yet. Jack ploughed on regardless.
"Anyway, I'm starting to put a team together, and I was wondering if you and Sawyer would help?"
Anger flared up in her, directed at Jack for suggesting that that she and Sawyer should put on a untied front, be a team, when they were in this current mess. It was unjustified; Jack didn't know what was going on, but it was so easy, and such a relief, to be able to pin the blame on him, direct her anger away from herself, from Sawyer, for a few moments.
Kate decided it was best to try to reason with him. She already knew she wouldn't be going; neither would Sawyer, and she wanted to convince Jack that he shouldn't risk it, either.
"Don't you think it's too soon? You just said you don't know exactly where it is. Don't you think it's too risky, trying something like this without knowing exactly where you're going?"
"That's why I want your help!" Jack replied as though it was obvious, frustration beginning to show.
Kate sighed deeply, knowing the conversation had taken a downward turn.
Jack ignored her, continuing, "The more people there are involved, the less risk there is." Kate didn't even bother telling him that didn't make sense.
"So, will you help me?" Jack asked.
"Jack, I have a child," Kate said, exasperated. "I can't just pack up and leave her to go on a pointless rescue mission. Neither can Sawyer." The anger was back and she didn't bother holding it in.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Jack asked, his voice cold. Normally that tone would warn Kate against answering, but today she ignored it.
"What do you honestly think you'll achieve by finding the island?" She stood up and started to pace, too agitated to sit still any longer. Layla watched on curiously.
"Kate..." She could practically see Jack shaking his head, ignoring her suggestion, passing it off as crazy and obviously not thought through.
She stopped pacing, deciding to force him to face reality. "What are the chances that she's still alive?" she asked firmly, wincing inwardly at how cold she sounded.
Jack hung up abruptly at the suggestion that Juliet was dead. Kate wasn't surprised. Relieved that the confrontation was over, yet wishing it had gone better, she took Layla's hand and started to walk.
Meandering along, Kate stayed on the tangent Jack had led her to. It was removed from her present situation, so it felt safe.
She suddenly felt guilty about how she'd reacted to Juliet's disappearance. Her main worry had been that her doctor was gone. She'd barely suppressed the fear for her future that had instantly loomed her over, covering it up with a superficial concern for the doctor's well-being. She'd acted like she'd cared more than she actually did.
It was an act, and it was empty. All those words that had been bandied about, by herself and others, were meaningless. No one on the beach had done anything. No one had tried to save her.
Why hadn't they done anything? Had no one on the beach cared enough? Even jack hadn't run off into the jungle after her. It was surely one of the reasons for his current obsession. Maybe if they'd tried to do something then, he wouldn't be the mess that he was now.
That was, if there was anything that could have been done. Chances were she'd died soon after her disappearance.
Kate imagined again the scenarios she'd first envisioned what felt like a lifetime ago, back on the island. Ben taking her somewhere not too far from their campsite and killing her in a quick, angry outburst. A failed escape attempt ending in death. An execution, punishment for her crimes against her community. For a brief second Kate even considered the possibility that Juliet may have taken her own life, in a final, desperate attempt to escape her situation, but she quickly brushed the thought away. Juliet was too strong for that, too determined to get home. She wouldn't have given up on that.
Her mindless walking had led her to a small pond. Layla cried out happily at the site of all the birds surrounding the area, and Kate smiled at her, reminded in that moment that miracles occasionally happened. Her daughter was proof of that.
Now, she was imagining new scenarios. What if Juliet had managed to escape Ben's clutches, arriving back on the beach only to find it deserted? Would she have gone back to the Others in that case, or would she have tried to make it on her own?
Maybe Ben had kept her captive. Kate remembered the cages, the brainwashing room they'd rescued Karl from, the strange room she'd visited Jack in. Any of those places could have become her new home. How long could someone survive like that?
Maybe she simply went back to her work. A captive still, taunted by how close she'd come to finally being free of that place. Back to watching women die, hoping for a breakthrough.
Maybe she was alive after all. What kind of state would she be in, though? And did it even matter? There was no chance they'd be able to save her. Even if they did manage to get back to the island, Ben would win any war waged against him, thwart any rescue attempt.
It occurred to Kate then just how bitter and depressing her thoughts were. Her current problems seemed to have sucked all optimism out of her. Even her musings on situations not her own were completely devoid of hope. Tom, Juliet, Cassidy, her parents; it was too much. She wanted to stop thinking, or at least limit it to one or two topics. Otherwise she'd lose her mind.
No longer feeling any kind of joy in being in the open air, she lifted Layla up and headed back to the car.
Back on the road, and again, she was alone with her thoughts. At last, she was starting to figure things out.
She still didn't know what she was going to do. She didn't know if she'd been blind in her love for Sawyer, if their life together was really as wonderful as it seemed. She didn't know if either of them were who she thought they were.
She did know why she'd left. Everything had changed for her when she'd found out how scared her daughter had been.
Kate knew how it felt to be scared of her father. She'd grown up feeling that fear every day, and it had turned her into a severely damaged person. She didn't want her daughter to feel her fear, to share her fate.
With it came Kate's fear of being the kind of parent her mother had been. She hadn't even realised it was an issue until Sawyer had mentioned it. She'd only been thinking of him, of helping him see that he wasn't the dangerous man he sometimes thought he was. She understood him, and she understood why he occasionally lashed out. She'd been in that place many times herself.
She'd put him first, before their daughter. It went against everything they'd ever thought about in their roles as parents, that unspoken agreement they had that nothing was more important than Layla's well-being. Sawyer had seen that she'd been doing it, she figured. Why else would he have turned so harsh?
So she'd done the right thing. She'd put her daughter first; she'd taken her away from the father who admitted he couldn't necessarily ensure a safe environment for her. She was being a good mother. She was doing what her mother didn't do.
So why did she feel as though she was slowly being torn apart, that part of her was somewhere else? If this was so right, why did it feel so wrong?
Finally, she was arriving at her destination. It gave her a sense of security; somehow, this place seemed inextricably linked to the answer to all her problems. After stopping the car, she sat where she was for a few moments, taking the sight in, allowing herself to unwind.
A light turned on in the house before her. She stared at it, mesmerised, waiting until the figure of the person she'd come to see appeared, silhouetted in the doorway. Only then did she begin to move.
He met her as she stepped out of the car, folding her into a warm hug as soon as she was free. She blinked back tears as she pressed her face into his jacket, allowing herself to step back into her childhood for just a second.
Tiredly, she murmured a quiet "Hi, Dad" into the fabric against her cheek. Sam Austen pulled her closer to him, offering a wordless welcome in response.
tbc.