Fic; desconhecido [Lost, PG-13] Part 3/?
Title: desconhecido
Author: sweetbelle07
Character(s): Jack/Kate
Rating: PG-13 for now, could go as high as NC-17
Summery: She’s been killing herself for the past three weeks, trying to find him, save him from the Others and he’s been living in a house.
A/N: These first few chapters are kinda short and I'm sorry for that. They start to get longer after this one though, promise.
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
When Kate was a little girl, she believed that once she grew up all the pieces of her jumbled life would fall perfectly into place, easy peazy and then she’d live happily ever after with her handsome prince charming. Maybe even have a couple of kids if the fancy struck her-actually, three kids, twin girls and a boy-and a dog if her prince wanted-which he would have to because she wanted one-and then after a long, calm, laughter filled life, she’d die peacefully in her sleep like all the good princesses do.
When Kate was twenty seven, her prince charming kicked her metaphorical puppy to death and then, as if that wasn’t enough of an insult to her feelings for him and her person, he laughed at her when she wanted to cry over it.
Or something like that.
Kate turns her face away from him, focusing on a lamp near her elbow. It’s a nice lamp, well shaped, not too tall or short, simple and round, good color; a soft brown-tanish one. The bulb looks like it would be strong enough to read by from the chair three feet away but too strong to give one a headache.
She really likes that lamp. It is a Kate tested and Kate approved lamp. The owner of the lamp, however… not so much. The exact opposite of approved but much worse then disapproved. She has no idea what adjective she would use to describe how she feels about him right now but when she does, she’ll get back to you.
“You’re leaving then,” she says after several long minutes of silence.
Jack doesn’t have the heart-something about Kate makes it impossible to keep hurting her once she gives you that look, the look where she’s close to tears but doesn’t want you to know it-to hurt her puppy any worse then he has already, so he merely nods.
Kate feels rather then actually sees his nod. The lamp still has her full attention, visually anyway, and she considers staring at that lamp until he snaps and yells at her to say something, anything, just so he’ll have a taste of the frustration she’s feeling right now.
She’s been killing herself to get him back and he’s been planning on leaving the other survivors--her--for weeks now.
And maybe she would’ve stuck to that plan if she was in the mood to battle him. A few minutes ago, she was, more then ready to start yelling at him for being such a bastard. Now she’s starting to wonder why she even tried to rescue him-why should she care when he so clearly doesn’t?-and wondering tends to drain her anger like sex drains her energy.
Oh-kay-bad analogy there. She’ll get back to you with a better one later too.
“Just like that then?”
It’s phrased a question and said like a statement and Jack’s not sure if he should say anything just yet. Kate’s thrown him for another loop by the sudden dissipation of her and he’s forgotten that she can do that to him too. It’s confusing when she moves between raging pissed to quiet and withdrawn within seconds, forcing him to stop, re-evaluate the situation and in doing so lose the upper hand to her.
Not that he ever had the upper hand, really.
“No goodbye or anything?”
“If I could have, I would’ve.”
She can taste the lie the second it leaves his mouth. He doesn’t mean a damn thing he’s saying to her. He could get down on bended knee, declare his everlasting passion and undying love for her and demand that she marry him because he can’t live another second without her and she’d call it a pile of bullshit without even blinking.
That is the level of lying he’s at-and she’s starting to hate him for it.
It’s kind of saying something when he’s at that level of lying since she’s pretty sure that some part of him, way down deep, buried under layers upon layers of bitterness and resentment and unrequited love and mind games, he does in fact love her.
Or maybe not, he was planning on leaving forever without so much as a goodbye.
Or maybe he really couldn’t get a goodbye to her because of the Others and-
No, no, no!
He’s a pile of bullshit, puppy murdering bullshit.
Kate finally looks up from the lamp, and tries to bring her hand up to move her hair out of her eyes, only to be confused when she’s feeling cold metal instead of her own coarse hand.
…the hell?
Right, the gun. The gun that Sayid handed to her three days earlier and told her to shoot first an Other first, and ask questions as they lay bleeding to death. She still has the gun in her hand. How in the hell does she even forget that she’s holding a gun?
Oh yeah, Jack kicked her metaphorical puppy to death and then laughed about it. It’s reasonable that she’d forget under those circumstances.
She drops her hand quickly, hoping that he doesn’t notice that she’d just done the Kate equivalent of smacking herself in the forehead with a gun. Of course, he does notice; he just doesn’t say anything because he’s Jack and he’s like that from time to time.
“Goodbye then,” Kate says softly.
“Kate.”
She involuntarily-damn her nerves-flinches when he says her name like that. Damn him for using that voice. The ‘I’m sorry your puppy is dead because of my foot’ voice. It’s begging for forgiveness, for her to smile at him and pretend like everything’s okay again, even though they really haven’t solved anything by yelling a little, hurting each other, and then retreating into their corners to brood and second guess themselves.
She might’ve done that three weeks ago, but she’s not going to now. She’s not leaving their relationship on that same old note.
“Don’t Jack,” she pleads, voice barely above a whisper but still cutting with all the emotion backing it up. “Please don’t. Let’s leave it… us… with a nice goodbye. You go home and I’ll stay here on the island and… that’s just how it’s gonna be. It’s fine.”
It’s the exact opposite of fine and she’s pretty sure that her voice and expression and those damn tears forming at the corners of her eyes are giving her away.
“You leave,” she tells him with a nod. “I’ll stay and I’m okay with that.”
Well, she will be.
Well, maybe not.
Wweeeellll, not ever; she’ll just hide it really well.
“Kate…”
“Goodbye, Jack,” she repeats, an inch more of firmness in her voice in before and even just that makes her back straighten just a little, and her chin lift just a smidge. Her pride’s pretty okay with that. Time to leave.
She gets about five steps before he calls out to her, “Don’t go.”
Oh no, too late for that, Doctor Shephard. No begging. Not now. She is beyond your begging. She is Kate. She is woman. Hear her roar. Watch her leave. “I’m going,” she throws over her shoulder, continuing towards the front door-it’s a front door in a house and she is going to have one hell of a time sorting this all out in her mind in the next few days…. weeks.
Yeah, this is going to take weeks to sort out properly.
“No, you’re not.”
“I’m walking out the door right now,” she retorts, annoyed that he is starting to boss her around again. To show that she’s past his dictator ways, she reaches out and grips the door handle tightly with her free hand.
“You’re staying here.” He says it as a matter of fact statement. Like, your hair is brown. You killed your father. You’re wanted by the United States government. You’re not leaving this house ever.
She’d love to see him try and make her stay.
“Are you serious?” she asks, looking over her shoulder at him, a most confounded expression on her face. It’s like the one she gave him after they found a parachute and crate of food in the jungle after the poker game only now it’s a bit more annoyed.
“You go out that door and they’ll kill you.”
That’s… that is… what?
He’s completely serious. He’s got that Jack’s-on-a-mission look about him. No hint of humor, no trace of sarcasm. It’s all black and white, right and wrong, life and death to him at this moment.
“It’s a minor miracle they don’t know you’re here already,” he continues, sure that he’s got her full attention.
That’s… that is… huh?
“They’ll kill you if and when they find you. You’re safe here, in this house.”
To a point but there’s no need to mention that.
That’s… that is… why?
“What’s to say they don’t know?” she asks, finding that her mind and tongue are actually capable of coherent speech. She’d thought that was just a myth. “That I’m here.”
“They wouldn’t wait.”
Kate lets out a slow breath and turns her gaze away from him, focusing once more on the lamp she’d approved earlier. He’s saying that if she goes outside, then she’ll be killed by the Others because they’re all seeing-it is their town after all and they do love cameras more then their children-and that really puts a dent on her plans to walk out on him for once.
That’s… that is… sucky.
She wants to walk out on him just as easily as he planned on leaving her but she doesn’t want to die.
“So what now?” she asks softly, resigned.
Jack waits until she lets go of the doorknob before answering her, “We get you back to safety.”
Author: sweetbelle07
Character(s): Jack/Kate
Rating: PG-13 for now, could go as high as NC-17
Summery: She’s been killing herself for the past three weeks, trying to find him, save him from the Others and he’s been living in a house.
A/N: These first few chapters are kinda short and I'm sorry for that. They start to get longer after this one though, promise.
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
When Kate was a little girl, she believed that once she grew up all the pieces of her jumbled life would fall perfectly into place, easy peazy and then she’d live happily ever after with her handsome prince charming. Maybe even have a couple of kids if the fancy struck her-actually, three kids, twin girls and a boy-and a dog if her prince wanted-which he would have to because she wanted one-and then after a long, calm, laughter filled life, she’d die peacefully in her sleep like all the good princesses do.
When Kate was twenty seven, her prince charming kicked her metaphorical puppy to death and then, as if that wasn’t enough of an insult to her feelings for him and her person, he laughed at her when she wanted to cry over it.
Or something like that.
Kate turns her face away from him, focusing on a lamp near her elbow. It’s a nice lamp, well shaped, not too tall or short, simple and round, good color; a soft brown-tanish one. The bulb looks like it would be strong enough to read by from the chair three feet away but too strong to give one a headache.
She really likes that lamp. It is a Kate tested and Kate approved lamp. The owner of the lamp, however… not so much. The exact opposite of approved but much worse then disapproved. She has no idea what adjective she would use to describe how she feels about him right now but when she does, she’ll get back to you.
“You’re leaving then,” she says after several long minutes of silence.
Jack doesn’t have the heart-something about Kate makes it impossible to keep hurting her once she gives you that look, the look where she’s close to tears but doesn’t want you to know it-to hurt her puppy any worse then he has already, so he merely nods.
Kate feels rather then actually sees his nod. The lamp still has her full attention, visually anyway, and she considers staring at that lamp until he snaps and yells at her to say something, anything, just so he’ll have a taste of the frustration she’s feeling right now.
She’s been killing herself to get him back and he’s been planning on leaving the other survivors--her--for weeks now.
And maybe she would’ve stuck to that plan if she was in the mood to battle him. A few minutes ago, she was, more then ready to start yelling at him for being such a bastard. Now she’s starting to wonder why she even tried to rescue him-why should she care when he so clearly doesn’t?-and wondering tends to drain her anger like sex drains her energy.
Oh-kay-bad analogy there. She’ll get back to you with a better one later too.
“Just like that then?”
It’s phrased a question and said like a statement and Jack’s not sure if he should say anything just yet. Kate’s thrown him for another loop by the sudden dissipation of her and he’s forgotten that she can do that to him too. It’s confusing when she moves between raging pissed to quiet and withdrawn within seconds, forcing him to stop, re-evaluate the situation and in doing so lose the upper hand to her.
Not that he ever had the upper hand, really.
“No goodbye or anything?”
“If I could have, I would’ve.”
She can taste the lie the second it leaves his mouth. He doesn’t mean a damn thing he’s saying to her. He could get down on bended knee, declare his everlasting passion and undying love for her and demand that she marry him because he can’t live another second without her and she’d call it a pile of bullshit without even blinking.
That is the level of lying he’s at-and she’s starting to hate him for it.
It’s kind of saying something when he’s at that level of lying since she’s pretty sure that some part of him, way down deep, buried under layers upon layers of bitterness and resentment and unrequited love and mind games, he does in fact love her.
Or maybe not, he was planning on leaving forever without so much as a goodbye.
Or maybe he really couldn’t get a goodbye to her because of the Others and-
No, no, no!
He’s a pile of bullshit, puppy murdering bullshit.
Kate finally looks up from the lamp, and tries to bring her hand up to move her hair out of her eyes, only to be confused when she’s feeling cold metal instead of her own coarse hand.
…the hell?
Right, the gun. The gun that Sayid handed to her three days earlier and told her to shoot first an Other first, and ask questions as they lay bleeding to death. She still has the gun in her hand. How in the hell does she even forget that she’s holding a gun?
Oh yeah, Jack kicked her metaphorical puppy to death and then laughed about it. It’s reasonable that she’d forget under those circumstances.
She drops her hand quickly, hoping that he doesn’t notice that she’d just done the Kate equivalent of smacking herself in the forehead with a gun. Of course, he does notice; he just doesn’t say anything because he’s Jack and he’s like that from time to time.
“Goodbye then,” Kate says softly.
“Kate.”
She involuntarily-damn her nerves-flinches when he says her name like that. Damn him for using that voice. The ‘I’m sorry your puppy is dead because of my foot’ voice. It’s begging for forgiveness, for her to smile at him and pretend like everything’s okay again, even though they really haven’t solved anything by yelling a little, hurting each other, and then retreating into their corners to brood and second guess themselves.
She might’ve done that three weeks ago, but she’s not going to now. She’s not leaving their relationship on that same old note.
“Don’t Jack,” she pleads, voice barely above a whisper but still cutting with all the emotion backing it up. “Please don’t. Let’s leave it… us… with a nice goodbye. You go home and I’ll stay here on the island and… that’s just how it’s gonna be. It’s fine.”
It’s the exact opposite of fine and she’s pretty sure that her voice and expression and those damn tears forming at the corners of her eyes are giving her away.
“You leave,” she tells him with a nod. “I’ll stay and I’m okay with that.”
Well, she will be.
Well, maybe not.
Wweeeellll, not ever; she’ll just hide it really well.
“Kate…”
“Goodbye, Jack,” she repeats, an inch more of firmness in her voice in before and even just that makes her back straighten just a little, and her chin lift just a smidge. Her pride’s pretty okay with that. Time to leave.
She gets about five steps before he calls out to her, “Don’t go.”
Oh no, too late for that, Doctor Shephard. No begging. Not now. She is beyond your begging. She is Kate. She is woman. Hear her roar. Watch her leave. “I’m going,” she throws over her shoulder, continuing towards the front door-it’s a front door in a house and she is going to have one hell of a time sorting this all out in her mind in the next few days…. weeks.
Yeah, this is going to take weeks to sort out properly.
“No, you’re not.”
“I’m walking out the door right now,” she retorts, annoyed that he is starting to boss her around again. To show that she’s past his dictator ways, she reaches out and grips the door handle tightly with her free hand.
“You’re staying here.” He says it as a matter of fact statement. Like, your hair is brown. You killed your father. You’re wanted by the United States government. You’re not leaving this house ever.
She’d love to see him try and make her stay.
“Are you serious?” she asks, looking over her shoulder at him, a most confounded expression on her face. It’s like the one she gave him after they found a parachute and crate of food in the jungle after the poker game only now it’s a bit more annoyed.
“You go out that door and they’ll kill you.”
That’s… that is… what?
He’s completely serious. He’s got that Jack’s-on-a-mission look about him. No hint of humor, no trace of sarcasm. It’s all black and white, right and wrong, life and death to him at this moment.
“It’s a minor miracle they don’t know you’re here already,” he continues, sure that he’s got her full attention.
That’s… that is… huh?
“They’ll kill you if and when they find you. You’re safe here, in this house.”
To a point but there’s no need to mention that.
That’s… that is… why?
“What’s to say they don’t know?” she asks, finding that her mind and tongue are actually capable of coherent speech. She’d thought that was just a myth. “That I’m here.”
“They wouldn’t wait.”
Kate lets out a slow breath and turns her gaze away from him, focusing once more on the lamp she’d approved earlier. He’s saying that if she goes outside, then she’ll be killed by the Others because they’re all seeing-it is their town after all and they do love cameras more then their children-and that really puts a dent on her plans to walk out on him for once.
That’s… that is… sucky.
She wants to walk out on him just as easily as he planned on leaving her but she doesn’t want to die.
“So what now?” she asks softly, resigned.
Jack waits until she lets go of the doorknob before answering her, “We get you back to safety.”