(no subject)
It takes her fifteen hours to drive to Des Moines, and it's one of the longest drives of her life. She barely eats, she barely drinks, and she doesn't have to make many stops.
All she can think of are the words in the letter she got the day before: Your mother is in the hospital. The doctors don't think she can beat this.
It's so sudden. It hasn't even been two full years since she last saw her. Not even two full years of feeling betrayed and still tipping extra for every diner waitress who reminds her of her mom along the way.
Diane's at Broadlawns. The same hospital where Tom's working now.
If she's lucky, she'll see them both.
Walking up to the desk, she tips her chin toward the flower arrangement in her hand. "I have a delivery for Diane Jansen."
The nurse glances down at the paperwork in front of her, then quickly looks back up. "Right. She just came up from ICU. She's in room 208, right around the corner to your right."
She forces a smile. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Right around the corner at room 208, a cop is stationed at the door.
Holding the flowers on that side of her, she walks by without stopping.
She can see him through the back window, but she doesn't move and she doesn't say anything until he's opened the door.
"Hey, Tom."
She hasn't seen him at all in three years. He's a doctor now and has a family of his own, but he still looks just like the rumpled-haired teenager she used to climb trees with. She's not sure she can see him any other way.
She's not sure he can see her any other way.
He turns in surprise but doesn't yell or anything. "Katie, what are you doing here?"
"Diane's dying of cancer." It's hard to even get out the words. "I thought I owed it to her to come see her."
"I heard. I'm sorry."
"Yeah. Me too."
He hesitates. "So... any particular reason why you're hanging out in the back of my car?"
She smiles, and it's a little grim. "I need your help."
She can hear him talking to someone named Adam, asking to get a little time at MRI with Diane. A favor for a friend of a friend, he says, and she can't take her eyes off the photographs on his fridge. There's his wife and his beautiful little boy. She can see a lot of Tom in those baby-faced features. He's a gorgeous baby.
When Tom gets off the phone, he joins her. "His name's Connor."
Still looking at the pictures, she smiles. "How old is he?"
"Twenty-two months next week."
Now she turns to look at him. "He's beautiful."
It's Tom's turn to smile. "Yeah, well, it's Rachel. It's not me."
"Where is she?" Pretty convenient that he was able to bring her here, not that she doesn't appreciate it.
"She's over in Cedar Rapids visiting her folks. They get back on Sunday." His face grows more solemn. "I got Diane in for an MRI. They'll bring her downstairs to radiology. The appointment's not til 5 a.m. so we've got about three hours to kill."
He's amazing. He's always been the best friend she's had. She'd hoped he'd help her see Diane -- growing up, they always would've done anything for each other -- but it suddenly seems huge that he would do this for her even now.
Even after what she's done. "Tom..."
"You're welcome."
She goes silent for a moment, unsure of whether to laugh at how impossible it all seems or burst into tears. They can't spend three more hours like this. "You think it's still there?"
"What?"
She gives him a look. "You know what."
He returns the look without missing a beat, a smile creeping onto his face. "It's the middle of the night, Katie."
That never used to stop them from doing anything. Besides... this is not a safe place for her. Once she gets to see Diane, she's got to run and she knows it. "We might not get another chance."
The night is dark in its two-in-the-morning stillness, and she can see a few pinpricks of light up there between the spreading branches of their tree.
She laughs incredulously when Tom produces a beer from the car, and stops digging long enough to marvel. "You brought beer?"
"No self-respecting man in Iowa goes anywhere without beer." He grins and shares with her, but his expression turns less jovial as he watches her take a drink. "It's not fair, you know. You coming back here. Home."
"Yeah." There's something in his eyes that makes her feel wistful. "I know."
She takes up her shovel again, and this time it hits metal in the ground. Glancing excitedly over at Tom, she crouches down to unearth their treasure.
Sitting in his car with her old New Kids on the Block lunchbox in her lap, she hardly recognizes her own recorded voice. She sounds so young.
She was so young. They both were.
Okay, this is Kate Austen and Tom Brennan, and this is our dedication for our time capsule, here on August 15, 1989. Hey! Give me that back!
Why are you putting this stupid plane in there?
Because it's cool, Katie. I got it when I flew to Dallas by myself.
That is cool. Just like this time capsule.
It'll be totally cool when we dig it up in like twenty years.
How do you know we'll be together?
Because we'll be married and you'll be a mom and we'll have 9 kids.
I don't think so. As soon as I get my license we should just get in a car and drive. You know, run away.
You always want to run away, Katie.
Yeah. And you know why.
Tom turns the tape off and finally lets his eyes rest on her again. "Funny how things turn out, isn't it?"
"Yeah."
He won't look away from her. He's just... not looking away, and even with the lunchbox time capsule in her lap, she can feel herself lean toward him. And he leans toward her.
They used to be inseparable. They used to be best friends. She's not sure they ever really had a chance at--
Her eyes close and her mind goes blank the instant his mouth touches hers. She's missed him. She's missed him a lot, and he's right: it's not fair.
But what's done is done. After a moment, she has the presence of mind to back off. "Sorry."
All he does is face forward, but she can see the uncertainty in the lines of his face. "We'd better get to the hospital."
She's never seen Diane look like this, lying there on that gurney with her cheeks sunken in and her eyes puffy and her face so pale and tired.
The doctors don't think she can beat this.
No words are even out of her mouth before her eyes start stinging. "Hi, mom." She takes in a trembling breath that doesn't steady her half as much as she'd like. "Can you hear me? Mom?" Diane's eyes open, and that's all it takes to make tears spill over. She stubbornly wipes them away. "It's me. Katie."
"Katherine?"
She answers the whisper with a nod. There's so much she wants to say, and she doesn't have a lot of time here. "It's me, Katherine. I am so sorry for everything I've put you through."
"Help." It's nothing more than a croak. "Help."
"It's okay, mom." Mom, don't do this, please. "It's me."
Hoarsely, Diane struggles to call out. "Help!"
Her eyes dart to the door; panic grows in the pit of her stomach. "It's okay."
"Help me! Somebody help me!"
It's almost enough to stun her. She didn't think that after all this time Diane would still--
But I swear to God, Katie, if I ever see you again, the first thing I will do is yell for help.
All she wanted was to see her. She couldn't let her mom die without coming to see her.
The door opens to let someone in.
Your mama gave you up, Kate.
In a heartbeat, she's taking off.
"Get out." She can see a police car in front of the exit to the parking garage, a blockade already in place to stop her, and Tom shouldn't be in here. It was a mistake for him to get in the car in the first place. They aren't preteens anymore. This isn't some race through a cornfield to see if he can catch up with her.
All she needed was his keys.
"I'm not letting you do this, Katie. If you cooperate, they'll go easy."
"He's calling for backup." Cassidy's words come back all too clearly. That marshal... I don't know what you did to him, but if he ever gets his hands on you, it is going to be you or him. She has to go and it has to be alone. "I've got to go. Get out."
He won't stop looking at her. "You can have a real life."
She keeps herself from shaking her head at him, but she knows he's wrong. It's too late for that. "Tom, please."
"No."
"Now." Why is he doing this? She can't take him along. He does have a real life. A career. A wife. A kid. There's no time for this. "Get out."
"No."
There's no time. Turning away from him, she floors it, gripping the wheel so tightly her knuckles go white, and drives right through the blockade. The officer's shooting at them -- more than once -- and it's all she can do to stay on the road, and then she can't.
When the car's stopped, she turns to Tom... and sees his head bowed, sees stains blossoming blood-red on his shirt, sees -- no oh God Tom no -- blood around his nose and mouth.
"Tom? Tom!" Her hand covers her own mouth as if it'd keep her from crying out loud. "Oh God, Tom." She takes his head in both of her hands, but he's completely unresponsive. "No, no, no, Tom. Please wake up."
This was never supposed to touch him. It doesn't even feel like he's breathing.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
Out of the corner of her eye, she can see a cop car approaching in the distance. There's no way she can stay.
In the backseat of the car are the contents of their time capsule, and for a second as she unbuckles, she's tempted to reach back there and grab the little airplane.
But she doesn't even have the seconds to spare. She opens the door and spills out of the car, only looking back once as she runs.
All she can think of are the words in the letter she got the day before: Your mother is in the hospital. The doctors don't think she can beat this.
It's so sudden. It hasn't even been two full years since she last saw her. Not even two full years of feeling betrayed and still tipping extra for every diner waitress who reminds her of her mom along the way.
Diane's at Broadlawns. The same hospital where Tom's working now.
If she's lucky, she'll see them both.
Walking up to the desk, she tips her chin toward the flower arrangement in her hand. "I have a delivery for Diane Jansen."
The nurse glances down at the paperwork in front of her, then quickly looks back up. "Right. She just came up from ICU. She's in room 208, right around the corner to your right."
She forces a smile. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Right around the corner at room 208, a cop is stationed at the door.
Holding the flowers on that side of her, she walks by without stopping.
She can see him through the back window, but she doesn't move and she doesn't say anything until he's opened the door.
"Hey, Tom."
She hasn't seen him at all in three years. He's a doctor now and has a family of his own, but he still looks just like the rumpled-haired teenager she used to climb trees with. She's not sure she can see him any other way.
She's not sure he can see her any other way.
He turns in surprise but doesn't yell or anything. "Katie, what are you doing here?"
"Diane's dying of cancer." It's hard to even get out the words. "I thought I owed it to her to come see her."
"I heard. I'm sorry."
"Yeah. Me too."
He hesitates. "So... any particular reason why you're hanging out in the back of my car?"
She smiles, and it's a little grim. "I need your help."
She can hear him talking to someone named Adam, asking to get a little time at MRI with Diane. A favor for a friend of a friend, he says, and she can't take her eyes off the photographs on his fridge. There's his wife and his beautiful little boy. She can see a lot of Tom in those baby-faced features. He's a gorgeous baby.
When Tom gets off the phone, he joins her. "His name's Connor."
Still looking at the pictures, she smiles. "How old is he?"
"Twenty-two months next week."
Now she turns to look at him. "He's beautiful."
It's Tom's turn to smile. "Yeah, well, it's Rachel. It's not me."
"Where is she?" Pretty convenient that he was able to bring her here, not that she doesn't appreciate it.
"She's over in Cedar Rapids visiting her folks. They get back on Sunday." His face grows more solemn. "I got Diane in for an MRI. They'll bring her downstairs to radiology. The appointment's not til 5 a.m. so we've got about three hours to kill."
He's amazing. He's always been the best friend she's had. She'd hoped he'd help her see Diane -- growing up, they always would've done anything for each other -- but it suddenly seems huge that he would do this for her even now.
Even after what she's done. "Tom..."
"You're welcome."
She goes silent for a moment, unsure of whether to laugh at how impossible it all seems or burst into tears. They can't spend three more hours like this. "You think it's still there?"
"What?"
She gives him a look. "You know what."
He returns the look without missing a beat, a smile creeping onto his face. "It's the middle of the night, Katie."
That never used to stop them from doing anything. Besides... this is not a safe place for her. Once she gets to see Diane, she's got to run and she knows it. "We might not get another chance."
The night is dark in its two-in-the-morning stillness, and she can see a few pinpricks of light up there between the spreading branches of their tree.
She laughs incredulously when Tom produces a beer from the car, and stops digging long enough to marvel. "You brought beer?"
"No self-respecting man in Iowa goes anywhere without beer." He grins and shares with her, but his expression turns less jovial as he watches her take a drink. "It's not fair, you know. You coming back here. Home."
"Yeah." There's something in his eyes that makes her feel wistful. "I know."
She takes up her shovel again, and this time it hits metal in the ground. Glancing excitedly over at Tom, she crouches down to unearth their treasure.
Sitting in his car with her old New Kids on the Block lunchbox in her lap, she hardly recognizes her own recorded voice. She sounds so young.
She was so young. They both were.
Okay, this is Kate Austen and Tom Brennan, and this is our dedication for our time capsule, here on August 15, 1989. Hey! Give me that back!
Why are you putting this stupid plane in there?
Because it's cool, Katie. I got it when I flew to Dallas by myself.
That is cool. Just like this time capsule.
It'll be totally cool when we dig it up in like twenty years.
How do you know we'll be together?
Because we'll be married and you'll be a mom and we'll have 9 kids.
I don't think so. As soon as I get my license we should just get in a car and drive. You know, run away.
You always want to run away, Katie.
Yeah. And you know why.
Tom turns the tape off and finally lets his eyes rest on her again. "Funny how things turn out, isn't it?"
"Yeah."
He won't look away from her. He's just... not looking away, and even with the lunchbox time capsule in her lap, she can feel herself lean toward him. And he leans toward her.
They used to be inseparable. They used to be best friends. She's not sure they ever really had a chance at--
Her eyes close and her mind goes blank the instant his mouth touches hers. She's missed him. She's missed him a lot, and he's right: it's not fair.
But what's done is done. After a moment, she has the presence of mind to back off. "Sorry."
All he does is face forward, but she can see the uncertainty in the lines of his face. "We'd better get to the hospital."
She's never seen Diane look like this, lying there on that gurney with her cheeks sunken in and her eyes puffy and her face so pale and tired.
The doctors don't think she can beat this.
No words are even out of her mouth before her eyes start stinging. "Hi, mom." She takes in a trembling breath that doesn't steady her half as much as she'd like. "Can you hear me? Mom?" Diane's eyes open, and that's all it takes to make tears spill over. She stubbornly wipes them away. "It's me. Katie."
"Katherine?"
She answers the whisper with a nod. There's so much she wants to say, and she doesn't have a lot of time here. "It's me, Katherine. I am so sorry for everything I've put you through."
"Help." It's nothing more than a croak. "Help."
"It's okay, mom." Mom, don't do this, please. "It's me."
Hoarsely, Diane struggles to call out. "Help!"
Her eyes dart to the door; panic grows in the pit of her stomach. "It's okay."
"Help me! Somebody help me!"
It's almost enough to stun her. She didn't think that after all this time Diane would still--
But I swear to God, Katie, if I ever see you again, the first thing I will do is yell for help.
All she wanted was to see her. She couldn't let her mom die without coming to see her.
The door opens to let someone in.
Your mama gave you up, Kate.
In a heartbeat, she's taking off.
"Get out." She can see a police car in front of the exit to the parking garage, a blockade already in place to stop her, and Tom shouldn't be in here. It was a mistake for him to get in the car in the first place. They aren't preteens anymore. This isn't some race through a cornfield to see if he can catch up with her.
All she needed was his keys.
"I'm not letting you do this, Katie. If you cooperate, they'll go easy."
"He's calling for backup." Cassidy's words come back all too clearly. That marshal... I don't know what you did to him, but if he ever gets his hands on you, it is going to be you or him. She has to go and it has to be alone. "I've got to go. Get out."
He won't stop looking at her. "You can have a real life."
She keeps herself from shaking her head at him, but she knows he's wrong. It's too late for that. "Tom, please."
"No."
"Now." Why is he doing this? She can't take him along. He does have a real life. A career. A wife. A kid. There's no time for this. "Get out."
"No."
There's no time. Turning away from him, she floors it, gripping the wheel so tightly her knuckles go white, and drives right through the blockade. The officer's shooting at them -- more than once -- and it's all she can do to stay on the road, and then she can't.
When the car's stopped, she turns to Tom... and sees his head bowed, sees stains blossoming blood-red on his shirt, sees -- no oh God Tom no -- blood around his nose and mouth.
"Tom? Tom!" Her hand covers her own mouth as if it'd keep her from crying out loud. "Oh God, Tom." She takes his head in both of her hands, but he's completely unresponsive. "No, no, no, Tom. Please wake up."
This was never supposed to touch him. It doesn't even feel like he's breathing.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
Out of the corner of her eye, she can see a cop car approaching in the distance. There's no way she can stay.
In the backseat of the car are the contents of their time capsule, and for a second as she unbuckles, she's tempted to reach back there and grab the little airplane.
But she doesn't even have the seconds to spare. She opens the door and spills out of the car, only looking back once as she runs.