my worst enemy makes for my best friend, for aurilly
Title: my worst enemy makes for my best friend
Author: angeldylan628
Recipient: aurilly
Pairing: Kate/Sayid
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None.
Summary: The more Sayid inserts himself in her life the harder she tries to set boundaries. The more she sets the more obvious it becomes that it's all for show. Post-island AU.
The light wakes Kate up too early. It's the slightest hint of sun peaking through the drapes she can never get to shut properly. This isn't the first time it's happened. If she ends up on her side and it's a particularly sunny morning, the light will wake her up at just past seven. It's like clockwork.
She flops over, rather dramatically to get away from it. The sheets are ruffled beside her, already cold but the pillow still smells like him - a combination of sandalwood and gunpowder and some sort of spice she cannot name. She gives herself a moment to bask in it before getting up.
She only sleeps on her side after she's slept with him. Usually she's on her back, spread out in the center of the bed just because she can. But when he's here, she curls up on her side to give him space. He scoots over until she's trapped, lips pressed to the back of her neck. She always expects it to keep her up - the way he clings to her, hand curled into her shirt, leg snaked between hers. It should be stifling for a girl like Kate whose old habits used to leave her running from men before the sun was even up.
But now Kate lets him into her home and doesn't kick him out once it's over. She's asleep before she knows it, too - the seconds he whispers, "Good night, Katherine" to her bare shoulder.
Sayid's gone before the sun hits Kate's eyes. Like clockwork - this is another one of those things she can count on.
---
Sayid's with her when she picks out her new house.
Kate never went back to the house in LA - the one she shared with Aaron and Jack - the one filled with lies. She sells it as soon as the plane touches the ground. Literally. She uses an airport payphone to get her lawyer to start the papers. It sells when she's living in Claire's apartment. She puts the money in a trust in Aaron's name.
When she leaves Claire and Aaron, she spends two weeks in a hotel before Sayid shows up with a handful of those house listing magazines they give away in grocery stores. They scan through them one by one. Kate can't seem to commit to any of them.
Finally she sets a few aside that are 'maybes' and says out loud that she'll go to see them Tuesday. She doesn't expect Sayid to show up Tuesday morning at some unseemly hour dangling coffee and sort-of stale bagels that she's sure still taste wonderful right in front of her, but she grabs the goods even as she's still eyeing him suspiciously. He laughs then. The closest thing she's seen to a real laugh from him. She smiles and lets him in.
As expected, he doesn't like any of her choices. Kate can't figure out why. There's nothing wrong with them. They're all big houses, already furnished and in perfect working order. Finally they reach the last house on her list and she's not even sure why she put it there. It's an old house - smaller than the rest but on more land. Most of it needs to be refurbished. The carpet is worn out and torn in places. The electricity and plumbing have their issues - the lights in two of the bedrooms don't work and the master bedroom shower only runs piping hot and leaks all over. The yard is a mess. There are holes in the drywall. Most of the kitchen appliances don't even work. The washer and dryer look like they're from the seventies. She's sure her mother had the exact same one in olive green. This one is orange.
Sayid likes this one. He doesn't say as much - he doesn't give much commentary on anything, but Kate is good at reading people and for all his training on how to be a calculated liar, it only took Kate a few days to know what Sayid was always thinking. They both had the same tells.
"I could never fix this," Kate says, her hands trailing idly over the countertops, "I wouldn't know where to start."
Sayid looks at her, then back at the ceiling which is stained around the fixtures. His frown is not as hopeless as it should be.
"I think you give yourself too little credit."
Kate wants to allude to the pot and the kettle but she decides better. They've both done a bad job at fixing things, but Sayid keeps trying. Kate figures it'll be good to have someone like him around to push her to do the same.
"I'll help," Sayid says finally when the silence stretches out between them. Kate merely nods, calls the realtor back in from the other room to let her know she'll take this one. The realtor looks confused at first but then she grins ear to ear and Kate knows she's probably getting a huge bonus for selling this one - it looks to have been on the market long enough.
"I still think you could have done it on your own," Sayid says as they leave. His shoulder bumps hers with each step down from the front porch. The steps creak and Kate's pretty sure she should be grateful for not putting her foot through one of them. They'll need to be fixed first. She finds herself hooking her arm in his towards the bottom.
"What's the fun in doing things alone?" she says.
It's not what he said, but it's what they both were thinking of anyways.
---
The morning routine is as follows now:
Stay in bed until The Price is Right is over. Make something that resembles a hearty breakfast or light lunch. Go for a run.
Try to remember to come back.
That last memo is Sayid's doing, whispered once casually over dinner together, and somehow never forgotten.
---
Sayid helped Kate bury Jack. This was how they first reconnected.
Hurley sent his body back. Kate's pretty sure Jack would have preferred to be buried on that island, but she won't question it. Claire still sees shadows where there aren't any and Sawyer has disappeared, not that she'd want to ask him for help with this. The others didn't really know Jack. Sayid volunteers before she has to ask and she's glad he does because she's not sure she would have been able to ask and yet, she couldn't imagine doing it on her own. Kate always ran before the bodies were cold while Sayid stayed and got good at planning funerals.
They tell Jack's family he was working for Doctors Without Borders, that he was killed by some rebel army, that he died helping people. It's the kind of story his family needs to hear. The kind of man they wanted Jack to be. Kate never had that kind of family. Neither did Sayid. They always expected the worst of the both of them. Maybe that's why it was so hard to watch them lower Jack's casket into the ground, watch people cry over his corpse.
They both know they'll receive no such fanfare. A sigh of relief maybe. Kate's hands shake because of this and maybe because she loved Jack, and Sayid reaches over to curl one of his around one of hers.
Afterwards, Margo is still crying when she tells Kate she just wants her to be happy and then glances over at Sayid in a way that is too open. Kate nods and says she is.
It could be a lie now but Kate knows it comes and goes.
---
After her run, Kate usually makes it up as she goes along.
Today, she's grocery shopping. Her lists always resemble a map because it's easier for her to remember things when they're in order from north to south. She wheels her way up and down aisles. Anything that's for her is written in red pen. Anything that's Sayid's is in blue. She doesn't know why she feels the need to keep her list segregated. She never did this before. When she shopped for Kevin, for Aaron, for Aaron and Claire, the list was always the same, everyone's items mixed in the same black ink.
The more Sayid inserts himself in her life the harder she tries to set boundaries. The more she sets the more obvious it becomes that it's all for show.
She stares at the yogurt. It's written twice on the list - once in blue and once in red. She buys one large container, just once and tries not to think about what that means.
---
The first time it happened it was when Kate left Aaron. This is a few months after they bury Jack.
She hadn't expected to stay with Claire and Aaron forever, but she never expected it to hurt this much all over again. She wakes up one morning and feels out of place. It stays with her through her morning routine of making breakfast for Aaron, to helping Claire do grocery shopping, to picking Aaron up from school all the way through watching his cartoons with him right before bed.
This time she doesn't wait until he's asleep to say goodbye. She waits a whole other day to be sure and when it still feels like someone else's life she breaks the news to Claire. Aaron takes it in stride because she's the boy Kate raised - she's taught him to be prepared for disappointment.
She realizes after she's rented a car that she has no where to go. She doesn't know why she picks Sayid's house besides the fact that it's close by. It has a little to do with the fact that she's always been able to trust him and that he doesn't talk much.
There's a spot of blood on his cuffs when he answers the door which Kate won't ask about.
"I left them."
Sayid's about to open his mouth and Kate already knows what he'll say - the polite offer for her to stay as long as she'd like is there on the tip of his tongue and she doesn't think she could handle it right then. So what she does - what Kate has always done when things get too close to something real - is to shut it up with something else.
She kisses him.
He's just like the rest. He complies, doesn't dare press for more, doesn't dare ask for an explanation, he just lets her take what she needs. Maybe it's a little disappointing at first - the way his hands stay at his sides, the way his kisses follow hers, but then her breath hitches and it sort of sounds like a sob even though it isn't and something breaks in him.
He surges forward, hands grabbing at her wrists, twisting her arms over her head and pushing her against the door. His kisses are demanding and they leave her dizzy and aching for more when his lips detach from hers and make their way down her neck. Her hands struggle against his hold, she'd give anything to grab onto his shoulders, to feel the warm skin of his back underneath his shirt, but the grip is bruising - stiff like handcuffs.
"You never think things through," he practically growls against her collarbone and Kate's eyes close at the sound. It's the same frustration that she feels with herself. The one thing she's always wished she could do - the one thing he has that she's always coveted is the ability to see the forest from the trees.
"No," she breathes out, lip pulled between her teeth, and she tries a smile though he can't see it. "But I'm still standing."
She can feel the smirk against her skin. "For now."
He hoists her up, and they barely make it to the couch.
In the morning, he's gone, but there's a note on the kitchen table that says he'll be back at four. There's a plate of breakfast - eggs and coffee that are still warm - next to it. She eats the food, rubbing at the bruises on her wrists as she does.
After breakfast, she checks herself into a hotel.
---
After she puts away her groceries, she does laundry.
He leaves a pile by the foot of the bed for her to sort and it took her a year to get him to do so. Before he would sneak down to the laundry room whenever he had time, but Kate has convinced him she doesn't mind, and she doesn't. She's better at removing blood and dirt stains than he is.
She still uses the orange washer and dryer. The frames are the same but the insides have been gutted and modernized. It's a little piece of the past that keeps Kate grounded, reminds her of what she's come from.
Teaches her to not repeat her mistakes.
---
With his help, it takes less than a year to get the house cleaned up. Sayid is there most of the time, though Kate soon finds she can do a lot of the work on her own. Of course, it works best when they're working together, and it's only with his help that the big projects get done. He knows a lot about construction - about repairs and patchwork. Kate is good with a sledge hammer and knowing how to demolish in clean strikes. Those big projects are give and take.
After the house has been renovated, when the walls and ceilings are clean and the pipes and lights are all in working order, Kate focuses on the yard. She never wanted a garden, but it's a hobby and she needs one if she's going to keep her sanity. It reminds her of being the island and the nostalgia doesn't sting as it could. There are enough good memories to focus on as she plants azaleas and rose bushes. Her peppers grow twice the size they should and the tomatoes taste better than anything Kate's ever tasted. It's beautiful outside and with the weather here, it's a year long chore.
After a year, the insides of the house are still bare. Kate will admit she's at a loss at how to make a house feel like a home. She has no childhood photos - they all burned in the fire - not that she would want to remember those times. Her adult life was all spent on the run. There is nothing but a tiny rubber plane to mark her past.
It's then that Sayid brings her things to help fill those voids - tiny souvenirs from wherever it is he goes. Kate puts them around the house, and then thinks to add fresh flowers from what's she's created outside. Together, they create something like a home.
---
She makes herself dinner.
She's learning how to cook, not from books or television but by taste. She has some skills that she picked up along the way, working at a diner, conning cops into marriage and farming in Australia. It just takes practice and she has the time. Tonight it's chicken and rice. She tucks in on the couch and watches some procedural crime dramas, timing herself to see how long it will take her to solve them.
Her eyes drift shut right as the partners with unresolved sexual tension get locked in a closet with what Kate's sure will be the serial killer. It's boring and predictable - both the television and her life now, but she can't seem to shake it. She doesn't run anymore, and this is the last thought in her head as she falls asleep.
---
And of course, in between the renovations and after they finish, there's still this thing between them that they won't name.
It happens again, in the hotel two days after the first time. And the again at his house after she's signed the papers. And every other time they're putting up drywall or pulling up flooring or painting. Sometimes it's intense like that first night and sometimes it's fun - the kind of thing she smiles and laughs through. It happens a lot and Kate finds it to be the only thing to look forward to.
The only thing that means much these days.
---
She has a nightmare. She's back on the island, back in those cages. But there is no Sawyer by her side. No Jack on the walkie talkie. The polar bears roam outside waiting to tear her limb from limb, and yet all she wants, more than anything is a key. A hole in the ceiling, a crack in the bars. She feels the ache to run in every limb. And then Sayid's there, key in hand. He lays it on the bars and tells her to take it, but she can't make herself move forward. The walls start moving closer and Sayid urges her to take it and run, but she doesn't.
She wakes up, gasping for air just as the walls press against her front and side. On TV, they're arresting the man in the elevator and sometimes it doesn't take a psychic to read between the lines. Kate reaches for the phone. She shakes as she dials, and it doesn't matter whether her eyes are open or close, she still sees those bars, still feels like the world is closing around her.
Sayid answers after one ring.
"Why am I still here?" Kate realizes she sounds a bit hysterical and this is a side of herself she's tried not to show Sayid. She can't help it. He's the only person she can call, the only person who will understand what it means. He sighs, like it was inevitable, and maybe it was. Kate can see him rubbing at the patch of skin over his right brow, the one that houses a hairline scar she's traced with her own fingers too many times.
"Where would you like to be?" Sayid says, answering a question with a question.
Kate can feel the bitter sting of tears at the back of her eyes. There is no answer for that. She can't imagine herself anywhere else. She can't understand how an ordinary life can feel so fulfilling - how shrubbery and morning game shows have filled the space that "borrowing" cars and stealing food used to sit. She can't understand how she know she's spending her life with the man on the other side of this phone, and she's never had to choke out the words 'i love you' for him to stay.
"Kate," he says softly.
He's not there every night. Some times he's gone for days at a time. Occasionally it will even be weeks. Kate never asks where he's going. She doesn't really care, but if she did and she asked, he would tell her. When he isn't working, he's here - in Kate's house - the one he picked out, the one he fixed and furnished with her.
"When are you coming home?" Kate whispers.
Sayid pauses. Kate hears the surprised rush of breath before he whispers. "Tomorrow."
"I'll be here," Kate says nodding though Sayid cannot see it.
And that's something Sayid can count on. If he knows it or not.
---
The night before was a night out of the house. Sayid takes her out to dinner and they see fireworks on the pier. It's beautiful, though Kate isn't sure what the occasion is. Fireworks can't happen every night. She asks Sayid about it and he just shrugs, tells her it doesn't matter and she thinks that's a good enough point.
When they get home, they sit on the back porch watching the stars. They're stretched out together on one lounge chair. Her head rests on his chest so that she can feel the words before he says them.
"I'd like to marry you."
Kate laughs because it's a silly thing to just blurt out, but then she looks up at him and sees he's serious. She expects a sense of panic to flood over her, but it never comes. It's only a tiny burst that comes and goes. "Why?"
Sayid is playing with a lock of her hair, concentrating on that task, and Kate thinks it may be one of the few times he's afraid to know what she's thinking. Usually he has no trouble facing her head on. "Because I'm old fashioned."
"I drugged my last husband," Kate blurts out because it's dangerous - marrying someone like Kate. Then again, most of Sayid's girlfriends and wives have died so maybe Kate should be the one worrying. Even with that thought in mind she can't manage any more fear. And now her lack of fear is making her scared.
Sayid raises an eyebrow and Kate can tell he's impressed but not worried nonetheless. "I don't see that happening again."
Kate shifts so that she's laying back down on his chest and murmurs, "I'll think about it."
---
He comes home the next night (by then, she barely remembers her nightmare) and stays through the morning, presses his lips to her shoulder and whispers, "Good morning, Katherine" when he realizes she's awake.
She smiles despite her history and braces herself for the next routine to come.
Author: angeldylan628
Recipient: aurilly
Pairing: Kate/Sayid
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None.
Summary: The more Sayid inserts himself in her life the harder she tries to set boundaries. The more she sets the more obvious it becomes that it's all for show. Post-island AU.
The light wakes Kate up too early. It's the slightest hint of sun peaking through the drapes she can never get to shut properly. This isn't the first time it's happened. If she ends up on her side and it's a particularly sunny morning, the light will wake her up at just past seven. It's like clockwork.
She flops over, rather dramatically to get away from it. The sheets are ruffled beside her, already cold but the pillow still smells like him - a combination of sandalwood and gunpowder and some sort of spice she cannot name. She gives herself a moment to bask in it before getting up.
She only sleeps on her side after she's slept with him. Usually she's on her back, spread out in the center of the bed just because she can. But when he's here, she curls up on her side to give him space. He scoots over until she's trapped, lips pressed to the back of her neck. She always expects it to keep her up - the way he clings to her, hand curled into her shirt, leg snaked between hers. It should be stifling for a girl like Kate whose old habits used to leave her running from men before the sun was even up.
But now Kate lets him into her home and doesn't kick him out once it's over. She's asleep before she knows it, too - the seconds he whispers, "Good night, Katherine" to her bare shoulder.
Sayid's gone before the sun hits Kate's eyes. Like clockwork - this is another one of those things she can count on.
---
Sayid's with her when she picks out her new house.
Kate never went back to the house in LA - the one she shared with Aaron and Jack - the one filled with lies. She sells it as soon as the plane touches the ground. Literally. She uses an airport payphone to get her lawyer to start the papers. It sells when she's living in Claire's apartment. She puts the money in a trust in Aaron's name.
When she leaves Claire and Aaron, she spends two weeks in a hotel before Sayid shows up with a handful of those house listing magazines they give away in grocery stores. They scan through them one by one. Kate can't seem to commit to any of them.
Finally she sets a few aside that are 'maybes' and says out loud that she'll go to see them Tuesday. She doesn't expect Sayid to show up Tuesday morning at some unseemly hour dangling coffee and sort-of stale bagels that she's sure still taste wonderful right in front of her, but she grabs the goods even as she's still eyeing him suspiciously. He laughs then. The closest thing she's seen to a real laugh from him. She smiles and lets him in.
As expected, he doesn't like any of her choices. Kate can't figure out why. There's nothing wrong with them. They're all big houses, already furnished and in perfect working order. Finally they reach the last house on her list and she's not even sure why she put it there. It's an old house - smaller than the rest but on more land. Most of it needs to be refurbished. The carpet is worn out and torn in places. The electricity and plumbing have their issues - the lights in two of the bedrooms don't work and the master bedroom shower only runs piping hot and leaks all over. The yard is a mess. There are holes in the drywall. Most of the kitchen appliances don't even work. The washer and dryer look like they're from the seventies. She's sure her mother had the exact same one in olive green. This one is orange.
Sayid likes this one. He doesn't say as much - he doesn't give much commentary on anything, but Kate is good at reading people and for all his training on how to be a calculated liar, it only took Kate a few days to know what Sayid was always thinking. They both had the same tells.
"I could never fix this," Kate says, her hands trailing idly over the countertops, "I wouldn't know where to start."
Sayid looks at her, then back at the ceiling which is stained around the fixtures. His frown is not as hopeless as it should be.
"I think you give yourself too little credit."
Kate wants to allude to the pot and the kettle but she decides better. They've both done a bad job at fixing things, but Sayid keeps trying. Kate figures it'll be good to have someone like him around to push her to do the same.
"I'll help," Sayid says finally when the silence stretches out between them. Kate merely nods, calls the realtor back in from the other room to let her know she'll take this one. The realtor looks confused at first but then she grins ear to ear and Kate knows she's probably getting a huge bonus for selling this one - it looks to have been on the market long enough.
"I still think you could have done it on your own," Sayid says as they leave. His shoulder bumps hers with each step down from the front porch. The steps creak and Kate's pretty sure she should be grateful for not putting her foot through one of them. They'll need to be fixed first. She finds herself hooking her arm in his towards the bottom.
"What's the fun in doing things alone?" she says.
It's not what he said, but it's what they both were thinking of anyways.
---
The morning routine is as follows now:
Stay in bed until The Price is Right is over. Make something that resembles a hearty breakfast or light lunch. Go for a run.
Try to remember to come back.
That last memo is Sayid's doing, whispered once casually over dinner together, and somehow never forgotten.
---
Sayid helped Kate bury Jack. This was how they first reconnected.
Hurley sent his body back. Kate's pretty sure Jack would have preferred to be buried on that island, but she won't question it. Claire still sees shadows where there aren't any and Sawyer has disappeared, not that she'd want to ask him for help with this. The others didn't really know Jack. Sayid volunteers before she has to ask and she's glad he does because she's not sure she would have been able to ask and yet, she couldn't imagine doing it on her own. Kate always ran before the bodies were cold while Sayid stayed and got good at planning funerals.
They tell Jack's family he was working for Doctors Without Borders, that he was killed by some rebel army, that he died helping people. It's the kind of story his family needs to hear. The kind of man they wanted Jack to be. Kate never had that kind of family. Neither did Sayid. They always expected the worst of the both of them. Maybe that's why it was so hard to watch them lower Jack's casket into the ground, watch people cry over his corpse.
They both know they'll receive no such fanfare. A sigh of relief maybe. Kate's hands shake because of this and maybe because she loved Jack, and Sayid reaches over to curl one of his around one of hers.
Afterwards, Margo is still crying when she tells Kate she just wants her to be happy and then glances over at Sayid in a way that is too open. Kate nods and says she is.
It could be a lie now but Kate knows it comes and goes.
---
After her run, Kate usually makes it up as she goes along.
Today, she's grocery shopping. Her lists always resemble a map because it's easier for her to remember things when they're in order from north to south. She wheels her way up and down aisles. Anything that's for her is written in red pen. Anything that's Sayid's is in blue. She doesn't know why she feels the need to keep her list segregated. She never did this before. When she shopped for Kevin, for Aaron, for Aaron and Claire, the list was always the same, everyone's items mixed in the same black ink.
The more Sayid inserts himself in her life the harder she tries to set boundaries. The more she sets the more obvious it becomes that it's all for show.
She stares at the yogurt. It's written twice on the list - once in blue and once in red. She buys one large container, just once and tries not to think about what that means.
---
The first time it happened it was when Kate left Aaron. This is a few months after they bury Jack.
She hadn't expected to stay with Claire and Aaron forever, but she never expected it to hurt this much all over again. She wakes up one morning and feels out of place. It stays with her through her morning routine of making breakfast for Aaron, to helping Claire do grocery shopping, to picking Aaron up from school all the way through watching his cartoons with him right before bed.
This time she doesn't wait until he's asleep to say goodbye. She waits a whole other day to be sure and when it still feels like someone else's life she breaks the news to Claire. Aaron takes it in stride because she's the boy Kate raised - she's taught him to be prepared for disappointment.
She realizes after she's rented a car that she has no where to go. She doesn't know why she picks Sayid's house besides the fact that it's close by. It has a little to do with the fact that she's always been able to trust him and that he doesn't talk much.
There's a spot of blood on his cuffs when he answers the door which Kate won't ask about.
"I left them."
Sayid's about to open his mouth and Kate already knows what he'll say - the polite offer for her to stay as long as she'd like is there on the tip of his tongue and she doesn't think she could handle it right then. So what she does - what Kate has always done when things get too close to something real - is to shut it up with something else.
She kisses him.
He's just like the rest. He complies, doesn't dare press for more, doesn't dare ask for an explanation, he just lets her take what she needs. Maybe it's a little disappointing at first - the way his hands stay at his sides, the way his kisses follow hers, but then her breath hitches and it sort of sounds like a sob even though it isn't and something breaks in him.
He surges forward, hands grabbing at her wrists, twisting her arms over her head and pushing her against the door. His kisses are demanding and they leave her dizzy and aching for more when his lips detach from hers and make their way down her neck. Her hands struggle against his hold, she'd give anything to grab onto his shoulders, to feel the warm skin of his back underneath his shirt, but the grip is bruising - stiff like handcuffs.
"You never think things through," he practically growls against her collarbone and Kate's eyes close at the sound. It's the same frustration that she feels with herself. The one thing she's always wished she could do - the one thing he has that she's always coveted is the ability to see the forest from the trees.
"No," she breathes out, lip pulled between her teeth, and she tries a smile though he can't see it. "But I'm still standing."
She can feel the smirk against her skin. "For now."
He hoists her up, and they barely make it to the couch.
In the morning, he's gone, but there's a note on the kitchen table that says he'll be back at four. There's a plate of breakfast - eggs and coffee that are still warm - next to it. She eats the food, rubbing at the bruises on her wrists as she does.
After breakfast, she checks herself into a hotel.
---
After she puts away her groceries, she does laundry.
He leaves a pile by the foot of the bed for her to sort and it took her a year to get him to do so. Before he would sneak down to the laundry room whenever he had time, but Kate has convinced him she doesn't mind, and she doesn't. She's better at removing blood and dirt stains than he is.
She still uses the orange washer and dryer. The frames are the same but the insides have been gutted and modernized. It's a little piece of the past that keeps Kate grounded, reminds her of what she's come from.
Teaches her to not repeat her mistakes.
---
With his help, it takes less than a year to get the house cleaned up. Sayid is there most of the time, though Kate soon finds she can do a lot of the work on her own. Of course, it works best when they're working together, and it's only with his help that the big projects get done. He knows a lot about construction - about repairs and patchwork. Kate is good with a sledge hammer and knowing how to demolish in clean strikes. Those big projects are give and take.
After the house has been renovated, when the walls and ceilings are clean and the pipes and lights are all in working order, Kate focuses on the yard. She never wanted a garden, but it's a hobby and she needs one if she's going to keep her sanity. It reminds her of being the island and the nostalgia doesn't sting as it could. There are enough good memories to focus on as she plants azaleas and rose bushes. Her peppers grow twice the size they should and the tomatoes taste better than anything Kate's ever tasted. It's beautiful outside and with the weather here, it's a year long chore.
After a year, the insides of the house are still bare. Kate will admit she's at a loss at how to make a house feel like a home. She has no childhood photos - they all burned in the fire - not that she would want to remember those times. Her adult life was all spent on the run. There is nothing but a tiny rubber plane to mark her past.
It's then that Sayid brings her things to help fill those voids - tiny souvenirs from wherever it is he goes. Kate puts them around the house, and then thinks to add fresh flowers from what's she's created outside. Together, they create something like a home.
---
She makes herself dinner.
She's learning how to cook, not from books or television but by taste. She has some skills that she picked up along the way, working at a diner, conning cops into marriage and farming in Australia. It just takes practice and she has the time. Tonight it's chicken and rice. She tucks in on the couch and watches some procedural crime dramas, timing herself to see how long it will take her to solve them.
Her eyes drift shut right as the partners with unresolved sexual tension get locked in a closet with what Kate's sure will be the serial killer. It's boring and predictable - both the television and her life now, but she can't seem to shake it. She doesn't run anymore, and this is the last thought in her head as she falls asleep.
---
And of course, in between the renovations and after they finish, there's still this thing between them that they won't name.
It happens again, in the hotel two days after the first time. And the again at his house after she's signed the papers. And every other time they're putting up drywall or pulling up flooring or painting. Sometimes it's intense like that first night and sometimes it's fun - the kind of thing she smiles and laughs through. It happens a lot and Kate finds it to be the only thing to look forward to.
The only thing that means much these days.
---
She has a nightmare. She's back on the island, back in those cages. But there is no Sawyer by her side. No Jack on the walkie talkie. The polar bears roam outside waiting to tear her limb from limb, and yet all she wants, more than anything is a key. A hole in the ceiling, a crack in the bars. She feels the ache to run in every limb. And then Sayid's there, key in hand. He lays it on the bars and tells her to take it, but she can't make herself move forward. The walls start moving closer and Sayid urges her to take it and run, but she doesn't.
She wakes up, gasping for air just as the walls press against her front and side. On TV, they're arresting the man in the elevator and sometimes it doesn't take a psychic to read between the lines. Kate reaches for the phone. She shakes as she dials, and it doesn't matter whether her eyes are open or close, she still sees those bars, still feels like the world is closing around her.
Sayid answers after one ring.
"Why am I still here?" Kate realizes she sounds a bit hysterical and this is a side of herself she's tried not to show Sayid. She can't help it. He's the only person she can call, the only person who will understand what it means. He sighs, like it was inevitable, and maybe it was. Kate can see him rubbing at the patch of skin over his right brow, the one that houses a hairline scar she's traced with her own fingers too many times.
"Where would you like to be?" Sayid says, answering a question with a question.
Kate can feel the bitter sting of tears at the back of her eyes. There is no answer for that. She can't imagine herself anywhere else. She can't understand how an ordinary life can feel so fulfilling - how shrubbery and morning game shows have filled the space that "borrowing" cars and stealing food used to sit. She can't understand how she know she's spending her life with the man on the other side of this phone, and she's never had to choke out the words 'i love you' for him to stay.
"Kate," he says softly.
He's not there every night. Some times he's gone for days at a time. Occasionally it will even be weeks. Kate never asks where he's going. She doesn't really care, but if she did and she asked, he would tell her. When he isn't working, he's here - in Kate's house - the one he picked out, the one he fixed and furnished with her.
"When are you coming home?" Kate whispers.
Sayid pauses. Kate hears the surprised rush of breath before he whispers. "Tomorrow."
"I'll be here," Kate says nodding though Sayid cannot see it.
And that's something Sayid can count on. If he knows it or not.
---
The night before was a night out of the house. Sayid takes her out to dinner and they see fireworks on the pier. It's beautiful, though Kate isn't sure what the occasion is. Fireworks can't happen every night. She asks Sayid about it and he just shrugs, tells her it doesn't matter and she thinks that's a good enough point.
When they get home, they sit on the back porch watching the stars. They're stretched out together on one lounge chair. Her head rests on his chest so that she can feel the words before he says them.
"I'd like to marry you."
Kate laughs because it's a silly thing to just blurt out, but then she looks up at him and sees he's serious. She expects a sense of panic to flood over her, but it never comes. It's only a tiny burst that comes and goes. "Why?"
Sayid is playing with a lock of her hair, concentrating on that task, and Kate thinks it may be one of the few times he's afraid to know what she's thinking. Usually he has no trouble facing her head on. "Because I'm old fashioned."
"I drugged my last husband," Kate blurts out because it's dangerous - marrying someone like Kate. Then again, most of Sayid's girlfriends and wives have died so maybe Kate should be the one worrying. Even with that thought in mind she can't manage any more fear. And now her lack of fear is making her scared.
Sayid raises an eyebrow and Kate can tell he's impressed but not worried nonetheless. "I don't see that happening again."
Kate shifts so that she's laying back down on his chest and murmurs, "I'll think about it."
---
He comes home the next night (by then, she barely remembers her nightmare) and stays through the morning, presses his lips to her shoulder and whispers, "Good morning, Katherine" when he realizes she's awake.
She smiles despite her history and braces herself for the next routine to come.