This is a quick one-shot from "The Candidate" that is a companion piece to "Through The Fire" and "To Have You".
This time, we explore Kate's thoughts when she wakes up with Hurley on the beach after the submarine sinks to when she sees Jack again. A special nod to a very special scene for us Jaters from "The End".
This is primarily Kate's POV in the third-person (with a tiny smidgen of Hurley's POV, from the standpoint of where Kate is emotionally in this moment, and Jack's POV from the very special moment mentioned above). Enjoy.
The decorative, luminous, and soft neon lighting along the dining space and concert stage glimmered in front of her as she sat quietly at one of the tables, Table Twenty-Three, in anxious wait for him.
Kate laughed at herself, feeling bundled into a million joyful pieces, tears in her eyes at the thought of seeing him again, and her emotions clouding her ability to keep it together. She couldn't even slouch in her wait, sitting upright with fidgeting fingers in her lap, her eyes darting towards the entrance every ten seconds.
In an attempt to dispel some pent-up energy, she stood up and walked over to a nearby cocktail table for a better view of the long stretch of grass in front of the entrance. She played with the stem of an untouched glass of champagne, wondering if she should take a sip to calm her nerves. She looked down at her attire, the tall, stiletto heels pinched her feet and the slip of a matching black, strapless dress that hugged every curve not her usual style, but perfect for the moment.
Her breath stalled as she looked up at the exact moment he strutted onto the grass, making quick work of it with his long legs, in a palpable hurry, his eyes searching for someone. Her gaze leapt to his face, watching as his brow fell in bemusement, so handsome and faultlessly her type she let go of a warm smile. His chiseled features framed soft, kind brown eyes and a mouth she longed to press hers to over and over again.
The scene paced in slow motion in her mind then, his movements more fluid and sexier once she let herself slowly exhale.
The expensive, tailored suit and tie delicately stressed the tall, lean frame of his body, a body she grew tighter and wetter for at the thought of without any clothes obstructing her view. She wanted to eagerly untie and unbutton the garments, unwrapping him like a present in front of a ravenous child on Christmas morning. Her fingers fiddled again, this time at the hem of her dress, the urge to open her gift overwhelming her.
A cascade of tingling warmth washed over her. She never once loved anyone with the depth and devotion that she loved him and it ripped her apart that she was robbed out of a lifetime of showing him.
He stepped out of the way of guests pouring out from the large outdoor dining space, a breath puffing from his chest as he realized he missed it. The wait staff began cleaning and folding at dining tables as the stagehands unmounted and packed up speakers and other equipment. He pulled out his phone from his in-breast pocket, punched a button and put it to his ear, the apology already rehearsed, but no less genuine every time he said it.
She started her approach as her fingers twirled through the curls at her shoulder and her other hand pressed the silky material of the dress firmly over her hip, wanting to look perfect for him. Her hips flirted and swayed as she moved in, talking herself down from scaring him. She knew him too well. He would try his best to resist her if he wasn't given time to acclimate and space to breathe.
It was their way from the beginning. He was scared and she was waiting for him to not be scared.
She would toy with him first, she decided. She remembered how much he liked to be toyed with in their intimate moments, until he had enough and took what they both desperately wanted him to take. Nothing else was quite like it.
Noone else lived up.
"It's over."
He looked over, excusing himself as he moved the phone from his ear, his attention landing to a fixed point right where she stood, melting under the intense focus she had for him and only him.
She was abruptly confident in the heels and dress the second he laid eyes on her, a bit shaken by her sudden presence and awe-inspiring beauty. Long brown, springy curls framed a face he wouldn't soon forget, a face men once braved deadly voyages across the seven seas to lay their eyes upon again. He had never encountered a more beautiful creature.
She pointed and glanced toward the emptying entertainment space at the question in his eyes. "The concert, it's over."
He nodded as he looked around at the space again, glaringly apparent to her that he disappointed someone without meaning to.
"You looking for someone?" She asked, her head tilted in penetrating study of his face again, her eyes soft and her voice mewling, captivating.
He turned to lock eyes with her, allowing his gaze to embrace her petite, fit shape in a cloud of roused yearning. Her toned arms, legs and shoulders were in a tightly wrapped package he suddenly wanted to open and devour. He took too much pleasure in this gorgeous stranger eyeing him like a rare piece of meat she was dying to sink her teeth into. He felt like he was slowly being consumed by the same desire.
The words came spilling out of him in an adorable ramble. He was supposed to bring his son, the fault in his tone for not being able to and missing it entirely made her ache for him. He didn't let the emotion linger, because an almost foreign one had sprung to life, taking all of him with it. He had to stop and look at her again. Their eyes locked and the radiant balminess from the bulbs above their heads no match for the heat gravitating their bodies squarely at the midpoint of the distance between them.
Her face radiated a reminiscent smile, still studying him with incessant rapture. There it was. An unspoken connection, a fire-breathing attraction, winding tread marks of a journey they had been on together without him remembering having been on it. He felt unnerved, teetering with energy he didn't have before she walked over to him.
His face lit up with a smile as he stepped in closer, apologizing and asking the only question that mattered, trying to grasp why he felt the weighty tug of a profound tether to this woman without even knowing her name.
"Where do I remember you from?"
He pointed to her, unquestionably sure that he could never forget her. She smiled. He was reeled in now, his curiosity caught and sunk. Her legs felt like they stretched for miles under the rays of his steady attention.
She was blossoming, reaching for more warmth from him, like delicate petals in the sunlight.
She was ready to take him for all eternity.
"I stole your pen."
Her eyes flitted open, the burn in her chest singed the suffocating drops of water out of her lungs, forcing her back to consciousness with a wild start. She coughed with her entire body, until she could still herself to take in a deep breath.
She felt someone kneeled beside and hovering over her. There was enough oxygen swimming to her brain again to make out the figure, the foggy drape over her vision slowly dissolving.
Hurley.
"Breathe, just breathe." He coaxed softly over and over again, coughing himself.
She squinted over at him, still coughing and sputtering for breath. Then, she angled her head down towards her body. She was caked in sand, her blood-stained grey top and jeans were soaked to the bone. Her left shoulder braced her in one pulsating stab from the open gunshot wound. Beyond her toes, she took in the rest of the jarring, disorienting scene.
The terrifyingly pitch-black night sky careened over the crashing surfs of the maddened ocean that stretched for miles with no foreseeable end. Moonlight bounced in the waves.
Her brow curved in confusion, surprise and disbelief, her breathing panicked and shaky. This wasn't right. She was at a concert, under warm, romantic ambient lighting, in uncomfortable heels and a scratchy, short black dress.
Where in the world had she been? Where was she now?
"How long was I out?" She sputtered in his direction, her voice scratchy from the ocean water still caught in her throat.
"Just a few minutes." Hurley told her in a slow, grateful breath, thankful that she was alive, that he pulled her from the brink with a few clumsy rounds of CPR. She wasn't breathing for what felt like a lifetime. Once she writhed with strangled and heavy coughs, he held back the urge to pull her up and into him for a hug. He didn't have the space in his heart to lose and grieve another friend.
"I stole your pen?" Hurley asked her, probing through his coughing. He heard her say it seconds before she opened her eyes.
Before she could respond to him, slashes of distressing memories flooded her, replacing the sexy, romantic atmosphere of an outdoor concert stage, a long lush lawn, soft lanterns that lit the blades of glass she walked on, casting a path straight to the man she loved. She finally found him, and was about to tell him who she was, who they were to each other. The warmth of his presence as she shamelessly flirted with him, she couldn't feel it anymore.
Everything was so cold again, so dark and frigid. Barren.
The bomb, Sayid. The water, so much water, weighing the hub of the submarine they were nestled in to the ocean floor like a solid, expanding cinderblock. The last memory she could conjure was of him pulling her up and out of the mounting waters and holding her close. What did he do after that?
Then she looked around, frantic for any sight of him. It was just Hurley that lay next to her, wiped out.
"Where is he?" Kate rolled onto her side, her voice wracked with urgency and dread. The lack of a response from Hurley after a few seconds brought out more anger, more fire wrapped up in a need she could never escape.
"Where is he? Where's Jack?" Her voice was set to a screeching yowl Hurley only ever heard from her when Jack wasn't accounted for, when he wasn't within her reach.
It reminded him of the cave-in. He knew Kate had to be the first one they told about the grave circumstance he somehow always found himself in, in tune with their connection and the devastation that would await her if they couldn't get him out, if he ran out of oxygen, if the rocks didn't keep steady. It also reminded him of when he ran after Locke after they took dynamite from the Black Rock that first time, the Monster attacking them on their way back. Kate turned around and saw that he wasn't there, that he was risking his life again. She went right after him without regard for the dynamite in her pack.
She was supposed to take it easy, but when it came to his life, everything was so agonizingly hard and real for her.
Hurley shook his head, not sure how to console her or even assure her. He couldn't say much of anything at the cave-in, so sweaty and tired from pulling rocks that he was close to throwing up. He couldn't say much after the Monster attack either, all he knew was they had to run from it, as fast as they could. How could he assure her now? He led with the truth, which was he had no fucking idea.
"I'm sorry, Kate. He told me to get you out of there first. I—I couldn't—"
She wanted to yell at him, to pummel him, but then she remembered him placing her arm around Hurley's shoulders and disappearing into the bright red alarms that shimmered over the water he swam through to get to Jin and Sun. There was no stopping him when it came to taking care of other people. It was one of the reasons she loved him so much and feared for him so deeply.
"No, no, no…" She shivered, looking back out to the endless waves, the tears swelling and the extreme pit of loss swallowing her whole.
The fear mounted its peak inside of her. All of these terrible scenarios went through her mind. Maybe he got caught in the riptide. Maybe he trapped inside, maybe the water was rising too fast and he couldn't swim his way out in time.
He did it again. He was doing that hero-thing he did without any regard for himself. He had to be right behind her. It didn't take him, she assured herself, shaking her head. She needed to know that he wasn't gone.
If she wasn't gone, he couldn't be either.
"Jack?!" Kate screamed over and over again with all the breath she had left in her achy lungs.
Her body was crouched over, desperately and aimlessly crawling through the thick, sticky, sinking sand towards the water. Her vision was still blurry, but she heard the waves like a beacon. She had to get back to him before they washed him away forever.
She fought her way forward, getting up to her feet only to stumble back down, weak and desperate. She was in no position to go back into the water to save him, the submarine long gone by now, but she crawled anyways, her soul willing her to it. Hurley felt terribly for her, convinced that he was dead by how much Kate believed it in that moment, sobbing and screaming so loudly, her heart broken into a million pieces as she willed her limbs to take her where he was.
Then Hurley saw it from yards down the beach. Two shadowy figures washed ashore, one standing and quickly pulling the other further inshore. Then they collapsed out of his view over tall stretches of more sand and distance.
It had to be Jack and Sawyer, and he hoped Jin and Sun weren't too far behind.
Hope swam in his tone. "Kate, look!"
He tried to pull her back from her reckless attempt to get back in the water, to tell her it was okay, but she met his strength with her own and growing stronger.
"Get the hell off of me, Hurley! Jack?!" Kate wailed desperately into the night, dodging his attempts to pull her back. She punched at him, almost decking him across the face.
"Kate, I think I see him." Hurley assured her gently.
Without waiting for her to hear him, because she never would, he opted to show her instead. He used his strength and height difference to his advantage and pulled her out of the sand by her arm and placed it over his shoulder. He made sure he had proper balance before walking her to the only thing that mattered to her.
When she saw him, slumped over, leaning into Sawyer and trying to recover his own breath and balance, her world stopped spinning out of orbit and found its anchor again. She smiled.He was okay.
"Jack..."
He turned toward the sound of her voice, then let his head sink at the sight of her, releasing a breath he didn't realize he was holding. She felt her broken heart mending, soaring out of its bed in the sand yards away, landing back in her chest, pumping warm, life-affirming blood to the rest of her as she continued to be carried to him by Hurley.
She collapsed into the sand in front of him and slinked into him, crying unconsolably, the reality of what she almost lost taking its toll.
"I couldn't find you…I couldn't find you." She sobbed, her voice soon muffled by the skin of his neck, the side of her head pressed into his shoulder as he pulled her in completely. She sighed into him, his chest cold against her cheek, but his scent still faint against his skin.
She quietly shook against him, coming back to life in every way that counted. The feel of his strong arm curled over her to bring her closer, to consume the warmth she was missing, pleading for when she woke up from what could only be a dream, a beautiful dream, the most comforting feeling she ever knew and would ever know.