(no subject)
"because we left," written for oxoniensis's Porn Battle. Kate/Sun with prompts of "desperation," "past," and "comfort." Current canon -- heh, I didn't intend to write any of these, much less write them all set in the current canon timeline -- and therefore spoilerific for anyone not through season four at least.
The entire trip back -- from raft to boat to plane -- it's the women who say the least.
One of them is numb, already resigned, preoccupied by the baby in her arms.
The other sits in silence, her eyes haunted, her arms and legs drawn in like a child expecting to be struck a second time.
*
It's been years since Kate's thought of being a mother. But in the abandoned child thrust into her life (the day Sawyer kissed her goodbye and jumped from the helicopter, the day the island vanished into thin air, the day before Jack encouraged her to lie for the first time), she finds something to anchor her, someone to love unconditionally after not being able to for so long.
Aaron depends on her. She depends on him.
She tries to forget the island. Sometimes in her dreams she runs through the green jungle, glimpses black smoke, watches fire burn on water where a ship used to be.
Sometimes she sees Sawyer falling and falling. Sometimes she looks down into the blue ocean and never sees him ripple to the surface.
She's unsettled for the whole day after, a bitter taste in the back of her throat.
*
Only Hurley visits when Ji Yeon is born. Sun isn't unhappy that Jack doesn't and doesn't hold it against Sayid that he doesn't, but she wishes Kate could.
It would be so easy to be mad at her, and sometimes Sun is.
More often, she's not. Kate was the second one to keep her secret. Kate was the one who tried to help when she didn't want Jin to leave on the raft, who sat with her while she waited to find out if she was pregnant, who recognized her fear about the people from the ship and drew the map that would take her to Locke's group.
If she had gone to find Jack for Kate but Jin had grabbed her and urged her back to the helicopter, what would she have done?
She doesn't know.
(She would have gone with her husband.)
She doesn't want to know.
*
You should stay here is the only offer Sun can make after everything is said and done, and Kate's surprised to hear the words but still agrees to.
Just for a few days.
The penthouse suite is big enough for two lonely women and a child.
*
Aaron sleeps soundly on the sofa in the living room while the women sit at the table in the bedroom.
It's after midnight; through the window, Kate watches the lights of cars traveling in the streets below. Sitting here reminds her of a Patsy song.
What's left of their tea is cold, but Sun drinks it. Kate smiles, and caught in quiet introspection, she admits that she sometimes wishes she could erase the past.
Sometimes, Sun tells her, the past feels like almost all I have.
Kate's eyes move to the photograph of Ji Yeon by Sun's bed, and then she turns toward the archway that leads to her sleeping son.
She misses Jack -- tonight especially -- but she won't go back to him or the island. They fought to leave -- other people fought for them to leave -- and they actually made it, and that's proof enough for her that they were supposed to.
Her trust in what John says waned a long time ago.
*
The last night Kate plans to stay, Sun stays up late with her again. Kate still idly watches the streets below, and Sun still drinks their tea long after it's gotten cold from sitting around.
Are they even? Sun has lost Jin; Kate has lost both Sawyer and Jack.
Jack, at least, is still alive.
Sun is the one who closes the space between them and captures Kate's mouth with her own. Sun, who's never initiated a first kiss in her life. Sun, who doubts she can ever love again.
Kate startles, confused, but doesn't quite move back.
They're both liars. They were both liars before they even made it to the island.
Sun tells herself it means nothing when, on crisp cotton sheets, her hand delves between Kate's thighs and two fingers sink into the warm wetness there. She tells herself it means everything when Kate palms her breasts, wordlessly returns (demands) her kisses, and skims frantic fingertips down her spine.
It means everything when she feels bold enough to trace her way down the front of Kate's lean body and replace her fingers with her mouth. It means nothing when Kate arches against her, almost trembling, pleasure hissing out between her teeth.
No matter what she tells herself, it's another lie.
The entire trip back -- from raft to boat to plane -- it's the women who say the least.
One of them is numb, already resigned, preoccupied by the baby in her arms.
The other sits in silence, her eyes haunted, her arms and legs drawn in like a child expecting to be struck a second time.
*
It's been years since Kate's thought of being a mother. But in the abandoned child thrust into her life (the day Sawyer kissed her goodbye and jumped from the helicopter, the day the island vanished into thin air, the day before Jack encouraged her to lie for the first time), she finds something to anchor her, someone to love unconditionally after not being able to for so long.
Aaron depends on her. She depends on him.
She tries to forget the island. Sometimes in her dreams she runs through the green jungle, glimpses black smoke, watches fire burn on water where a ship used to be.
Sometimes she sees Sawyer falling and falling. Sometimes she looks down into the blue ocean and never sees him ripple to the surface.
She's unsettled for the whole day after, a bitter taste in the back of her throat.
*
Only Hurley visits when Ji Yeon is born. Sun isn't unhappy that Jack doesn't and doesn't hold it against Sayid that he doesn't, but she wishes Kate could.
It would be so easy to be mad at her, and sometimes Sun is.
More often, she's not. Kate was the second one to keep her secret. Kate was the one who tried to help when she didn't want Jin to leave on the raft, who sat with her while she waited to find out if she was pregnant, who recognized her fear about the people from the ship and drew the map that would take her to Locke's group.
If she had gone to find Jack for Kate but Jin had grabbed her and urged her back to the helicopter, what would she have done?
She doesn't know.
(She would have gone with her husband.)
She doesn't want to know.
*
You should stay here is the only offer Sun can make after everything is said and done, and Kate's surprised to hear the words but still agrees to.
Just for a few days.
The penthouse suite is big enough for two lonely women and a child.
*
Aaron sleeps soundly on the sofa in the living room while the women sit at the table in the bedroom.
It's after midnight; through the window, Kate watches the lights of cars traveling in the streets below. Sitting here reminds her of a Patsy song.
What's left of their tea is cold, but Sun drinks it. Kate smiles, and caught in quiet introspection, she admits that she sometimes wishes she could erase the past.
Sometimes, Sun tells her, the past feels like almost all I have.
Kate's eyes move to the photograph of Ji Yeon by Sun's bed, and then she turns toward the archway that leads to her sleeping son.
She misses Jack -- tonight especially -- but she won't go back to him or the island. They fought to leave -- other people fought for them to leave -- and they actually made it, and that's proof enough for her that they were supposed to.
Her trust in what John says waned a long time ago.
*
The last night Kate plans to stay, Sun stays up late with her again. Kate still idly watches the streets below, and Sun still drinks their tea long after it's gotten cold from sitting around.
Are they even? Sun has lost Jin; Kate has lost both Sawyer and Jack.
Jack, at least, is still alive.
Sun is the one who closes the space between them and captures Kate's mouth with her own. Sun, who's never initiated a first kiss in her life. Sun, who doubts she can ever love again.
Kate startles, confused, but doesn't quite move back.
They're both liars. They were both liars before they even made it to the island.
Sun tells herself it means nothing when, on crisp cotton sheets, her hand delves between Kate's thighs and two fingers sink into the warm wetness there. She tells herself it means everything when Kate palms her breasts, wordlessly returns (demands) her kisses, and skims frantic fingertips down her spine.
It means everything when she feels bold enough to trace her way down the front of Kate's lean body and replace her fingers with her mouth. It means nothing when Kate arches against her, almost trembling, pleasure hissing out between her teeth.
No matter what she tells herself, it's another lie.