Recall Part 3
Sayid was easy to find, standing out in plain sight talking with an older man Jack didn’t know. The man said something Jack couldn’t hear and Sayid gestured somewhere off to his left, apparently explaining something. Jack watched the man nod his head and start if in that direction. Sayid sighed and shook his own head, looking over the beach with the same stressed expression that used to take up residence on his face before he was captured by the Others, his eyes finally landing on Jack himself.
“Jack,” the other man said, coming closer so as to meet him half way. “I’m surprised you’ve been so reclusive today. I would’ve thought you’d have quite a lot of catching up to do.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, well considering the welcoming party this morning I thought laying low might be a better option right now.”
Sayid didn’t look away but he lowered his eyes ever so slightly, a sign of regret maybe. “We are all just concerned and surprised. We have not come into contact with the Others since your disappearance and I think I speak for everyone when I say we would like to keep it that way.”
“I understand that Sayid, I really do. I know right now you’re thinking about the safety of the group. But I know why they brought me there, at least originally, and I did what they wanted. They were keeping me for no reason.” Fixing Ben had been the main goal or so he’d been told, but he’d done that early on and yet they still kept for years afterward. Like they were scared he knew too much.
“Yes, and that’s all well and good but what I worry about is that you escaped rather than being released by them. Your unwillingness to speak on that matter, in addition to what we already know of those people, tells me there are going to be repercussions.” Sayid paused, with reluctance Jack noticed. “It’s not as if we’re going to send you back to them. I for one would just like to know what we’re up against.”
There just wasn’t any getting around this Jack realized. Sayid wanted answers and he wasn’t one to walk away without them like Locke might if you fought him hard enough. Lowering his voice to barely above a whisper, he came closer to Sayid, so as no one but the two of them could hear the conversation. “I got a hold of one of their guns and I took out three of them on the way out of their camp. They value their people the same as we do ours.” He locked gazes with Sayid just then, to drive the point home.
There was a moment of silence that followed and Jack worried that he’d said too much. Then, calmly, Sayid pulled back, understanding written on his face. “So we’re looking at revenge then.”
“What, we going after Ben and company already?” Sawyer cut in as they both looked over at him. Clearly he hadn’t heard the previous exchange, which was of some comfort to Jack, who wasn’t at all ready to announce the fact that he was once again a murderer to the world.
Sayid looked at Jack, at Sawyer, and back again, all with the careful eye of a parent just waiting for a fight to break out between two siblings. Jack had no intentions of doing anything with this man he barely remembered as Sawyer. Finally he said, “I have some place to beat the moment but we can continue this conversation soon Jack.” All it took was a nod from Jack and Sayid was gone, leaving him and Sawyer alone.
“Gee, Doc, you’re only back a day and already you’re playing with the big boys again.” Sawyer said, the uncomfortableness Jack was feeling almost undetectable on his part. The nickname was annoying but oddly familiar, and Jack could feel a few things start to click into his place in his mind. Memories of rafts and guns, of missing inhalers and torture. It was an enormous jigsaw puzzle and he was finally seeing the outline of the big picture.
“It’s not by choice, Sawyer.” Jack replied, forcing the name out so he could get used to it. The irritated tone that accompanied the name worked its own way in.
Sawyer raised an eyebrow but shook his head. “So you don’t remember us I hear.” The ‘us’ meaning Kate too, Jack guessed, noting the phrasing, as if Sawyer felt they were some kind of unit. He had gotten a different idea from Claire. “You don’t remember saving our asses then?” Jack nodded, relatively clueless, and Sawyer gave a half grin that was covering up something else. “Good. That way I don’t have to say thank you. Never was very good at that.”
Jack had half a mind to tell him that his words were kind of defeating the purpose, but he kept his mouth shut, too busy trying to figure out why Sawyer insisted on standing here asking questions that he already knew the answers to. “Look is there something you want because I’ve got work to do.” It wasn’t a lie, he needed to track down building materials and get something set up before nightfall.
“What’d they do to you?” Sawyer asked with a frown. He glanced quickly over at Kate, who Jack could make out down the beach way out of earshot, and Jack took that as a sign that this had all been Kate’s idea.
“They did a lot of things to me.” Jack answered vaguely. He wasn’t up for rehashing three years with someone who was a stranger to him, one he didn’t particularly like at the moment.
“Hatch monkey still alive? Did you do the surgery?” It was safe to assume Sawyer wasn’t taking the hint; either that or he just didn’t care. Jack nodded to satisfy him, keeping silent, wondering where this was going and what he was really looking to get out of this. Without verbal cues though Sawyer seemed to be at a loss, pausing at length before finally asking, “They stick you in one of those cages.”
He was about to tell him that yes, they did, and can we be done with this now. The thought of being stuck behind bars again, trapped, made him anxious. Then something struck him. A flash, quick as anything, skin on skin and an old monitor relaying fuzzy images of sleeping figures.
“…that bitch and her friggin’ taser gun,” he caught the tail end of Sawyer’s next sentence, coming back out of his mind with a bit of a start.
“What?” He asked, shaking off the flashes, even though he was really only pushing them to the back of his mind where he could overanalyze them on the nights when he couldn’t sleep because he was just waiting for something to go wrong.
“The blonde with the quiet demeanor until someone hands her a gun. She give you any trouble? Seemed like she was the ringleader’s right hand woman.” The southerner’s line of questioning was foreign, disconnected.
“Juliet.” Jack corrected quietly, remorse in his voice. Sawyer raised an eyebrow in a manner that suggested something Jack wasn’t sure he liked. “She’s not -“, he sighed, shaking his head at nothing and everything, correcting himself, “She wasn’t the person I thought she was.”
“Sounds like there’s a story there, Cowboy.” Sawyer observed, not picking up on the use of past tense, and Jack just let it lie there, starting off down the beach, no destination in mind, just hoping to get rid of his present company. “Do you know why they took us in the first place? Took you for the surgery but what the hell did they need me and Freckles for?”
“Jesus, Sawyer, what the hell do you want from me?” He stopped mid stride spinning to face the man with the shaggy blonde hair, planting his hands on his waist.
This did not faze Sawyer. “Same thing we all want, Doc. Answers. You were with them for three fucking years. You of all people should have them.”
“You know I wish I did but I don’t. I’m not even perfectly sure the surgery is what they wanted from me. Much less what they wanted from you. I don’t remember. Why doesn’t anyone understand that?” His voice rose in volume and he was drawing stares from various people along the beach, going about their business.
“Alright, then answer me this.” Sawyer began, and Jack could tell that at some point Sawyer had stopped asking questions that beat around the bush and started in on his own agenda. “Why did you come back now? You escaped, but why the hell did you wait so long?”
“I left when I had the opportunity. It’s not like I decided I was going to wait three years and then make a break for it.” Jack yelled, and he thought that this must have been how things had always been between them because of all the sets of eyes locked on them none of them seemed all that surprised.
“Yeah, I’m sure that made a lovely story for Mohammad,” Sayid’s eyes flicked over to them as he separated himself from the man he was talking to and came a little closer to the argument, “but he wasn’t there. He doesn’t know those people. There’s no way you made it out of there alive without making some kind of deal. So just cut the crap and - “
“Enough!” Kate shouted, closer to them than Jack had remembered her being a minute ago. Her eyes were red and her cheeks flushed, her expression one half anger, one half disgust. She got in between the two men, who now stood with barely two feet separating them, facing Sawyer with a glare. When he went to move her aside she smacked away his hand. “No, you’re done here. You’re not doing this.”
There was a long moment where Jack didn’t know what was going to happen. Sawyer was trying to stand his ground and there was Kate staring him down. Jack wanted to say he could hold his own, that he didn’t need her to play referee, but a part of him was curious to see how much power this woman really held over Sawyer. Or what she would do if he didn’t back down. She’s a fugitive, he reminded himself, wanted on murder charges. There was no telling what actions she might take. Jack didn’t know enough about her to predict them. He didn’t know anything about her.
Finally, Sawyer took a step back, “Well there’s no arguing with the lady now is there.” Something in his face changed, unrestrained anger going to calm amusement. It seemed like a mask, and Jack wondered if he was the only one who saw right through the southerner. With the way Kate stayed in place instead of letting up on him, he guessed he wasn’t.
Their face-off lasted only a second longer as Sawyer turned and walked away from the scene, rigid posture belying his true feelings about this whole thing. Kate watched him go but didn’t turn to face Jack. If she would have, she would’ve seen the dark haze in his eyes. With her this close, it felt like being shocked, like the air was electric. A part of him wanted to reach out and pull her to him, and he couldn’t for the life of him understand why. From the way she seemed to almost lean in his direction he knew he wasn’t alone.
---
“Can’t leave you alone for a second can I?” Claire asked, a few minutes later, as she caught up with him. He’d turned tail and left before Kate could say a single word, and now he was heading towards where the sand met the soil in a messy line. He was trying to get away from everyone, from the fighting and the yelling. She was walking side by side with him now and still he paid her no mind. “Jack, stop.”
Instinctually he did and for a second he thought he saw a different blonde staring back at him, with that patient yet disappointed look on her face, the illusion disappearing after he blinked. The look was the same but the eyes that studied him were without agenda.
“I know he’s not the most personable one here but he just wants to know what happened. He’s just blunt is all.” Jack furrowed his brows as if to say ‘is that all?’. “You’re in his space. This has been his territory for how many years and now the competition is back. Not to mention that while you were gone a lot of people were blaming him for leaving you behind.”
“I’m not competition,” Jack insisted.
“Yes you are. She defended you over him without a second’s pause. They’re sleeping together and she’s taking the opposite side. It’s his territory and you’re in it whether you know it or not.” He started off again and this time she grabbed hold of his arm, forcefully stopping him. “That doesn’t mean you get to run off. It won’t be like this for long. He’ll get over it. They all will.”
He shook his head, avoiding her eyes, mumbling something under his breath that she had to strain her ears to understand. “I shouldn’t have come back,” she thought he said.
“Don’t say that,” she told him, more frustrated by the second.
“Why not? I’m only making things worse here. Everyone was doing fine and then I show up and everything goes to hell.” He began, and she knew it wouldn’t be long until he was yelling again. “The Others are going to come after me; there are going to be consequences to what I did. Do you really want them in this camp? Do you really want to risk Aaron?” She swallowed hard, but her grip on him only tightened, feeling his muscles tense under fingers. Still, she shook her head. “Then let me go.”
“So what are you going to do? You’re just going to go back there. What does that accomplish? They’ll just kill you.” She warned him, her words failing to break the resolve on his face. “You can’t go back, you can’t go back, you can’t just give up. We’ve dealt with the Others before and we can do it again.”
“You don’t know these people Claire. Believe me, you don’t want to.” He told her, clinging to that excuse. It was uniform; his defense to everyone.
“I do know them. In case you’ve forgotten they held me for over a week. You’re not the only one who’s been through hell before and you’re not the only one with baggage. I understand where you’re coming from. What it feels like to be hounded with questions you can’t answer by people you can barely remember. To be alone in a strange place with a bunch of people coming at you and nowhere to hide; no way to get away. I know.” She insisted, her voice rising uncharacteristically. He was acting like he was the only one, like he had special circumstances.
“Claire…” he started, his features calming, and she knew she was finally getting somewhere.
“But you don’t give up Jack. I may not know you as well as some of the other people on this island do but I do know how you are. You’re a fighter. And don’t even try to tell that three years in captivity with those people changed you, because if it had then you wouldn’t have gotten out of there in the first place.” He stopped resisting her and she let her grip slacken. “Now come back to camp and try to ignore Sawyer. And if that doesn’t work I can be remarkably persuasive and send Charlie off to annoy him, keep him out of your hair.”
He laughed then, not that crazed laugh from earlier, but a genuine one. “I think it’s supposed to be the other way around.”
“What is?” She asked, a tad confused by his comment.
There was a mischievous look in his eyes that faded seconds later, and he shook his head. He must not have realized he said it out loud. “Nothing.”
“That’s the second time you’ve made some weird comment and then blown it off. What gives?” She said, referring to the incident barely and hour earlier where he asked her last name. Something was going on, and she hadn’t an inkling of what it was.
“It’s not important.”
“Then just go ahead and tell me.” She replied, not ready to let this go. Claire was so sick of secrets on this island, and in her own opinion they would be a lot better off without them.
He looked down, unable to meet her eyes. “When I was with the Others they took blood from me a few times. I don’t know what they were trying to do, they never told me. Then one day Ben told me I had they found something. That they matched my DNA with someone else here on the island. They wouldn’t tell me who, but I got a quick look at my files when Juliet left them out accidentally. The note on it said that I had a half-sister, with the last name of Littleton. There was no first name listed, so I didn’t know…” He got the courage to look up at Claire, who just stared back at him with a slightly unnerving expression of half-surprise, half-realization.
“His other family,” she said, mostly to herself, recalling a conversation from years ago. Jack gave her a curious look, and she continued. “The man who claimed he was my father - he said he had another family. He came to Australia a few years ago after me and my mum got in a car accident. He paid all the hospital bills, the mortgage on the house.”
“You were why he was in Australia.” Jack said, things starting to come together, inconsistencies from the past making more sense now. “Mom knew but she wouldn’t tell me, just that I had to go after him.”
“But he left because he wanted to. He never mentioned you were there.”
“No, this wasn’t years ago Claire.” He stopped her when he realized that they were both talking about different times. “I was on flight 815 because I was bringing him back home to Los Angeles.”
She frowned, “He was on the plane?”
It took a few seconds for it to occur to him what she didn’t know. “Claire, he’s…he died in Australia. A heart attack, probably brought by the drinking - he was an alcoholic. I was bringing him back home to bury him.” Her eyes widened, but she nodded, trying her best to process this all. He was throwing possibly life-altering information at her in rapid succession and her head was spinning. “I’m sorry.”
“No, you have nothing to be sorry about. He wasn’t my father, he was yours. I barely even knew him, I didn’t even…” Her face contorted with something that looked like regret. “I didn’t even know his name. I told him I didn’t want to know, that I never wanted to see him again, that he didn’t care about me.”
“It’s Christian. Christian Shephard.” Jack told her, almost like it would offer her some consolation. He wondered what it must feel like to her to have something dangled in front of you and then snatched back away just as quickly. “And he must’ve cared, otherwise he wouldn’t have flown all the way to Australia to find you. He just…he wasn’t real good at showing it. Kind of where I got it from.”
She grinned then, looking back up at him with eyes that sparkled. “Aaron has an uncle. I have family for the first time in years.” There was relief in her face, and it made him smile back at her. “Well, see, now you have to stay.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?” But it was said in a joking tone. She had won this round, whether or not he wanted to admit it. “Why’s that?”
“Can you imagine the look on people’s faces when we tell them? Don’t even tell me you don’t want to stick around for that.”
And truth be told, he kind of did.
---
It was sunset when Charlie wandered over to her tent. Aaron had gotten tired out playing with Sun’s daughter, and had been napping since late in the afternoon, giving her plenty of time to occupy. She was attempting to finish the book she’d started the day before, but the lower in the sky the sun got, the harder it was to read. She was going to have to give it up soon.
“You know you’ll strain your eyes without decent lighting. I don’t think Sayid enjoys making glasses all the time, what with Sawyer losing his four times now.” He said, his way of giving a greeting.
She placed the thick leaf she was using as a bookmark inside, and shut it, putting it aside. “Isn’t that an old wives tale? Kind of like the one that says going out in chilly weather will give you a cold.”
He shrugged, unsure on both matters. “Fair enough.” He came to stand next to her, waiting for an invitation to sit down. Sometimes he seemed like he didn’t know how to act around her. She nodded, knowing from the start that he wasn’t here just to tell her not to ruin her vision. “So it’s been quite a day hasn’t it?”
“Yes, it has.” She replied, smiling almost wistfully when she thought about this new information she’d found out.
“You could’ve told me you know.” Charlie said, looking at her and then down at his hands, stretching his fingers. “About this whole thing with Jack. You could’ve told me.”
“I just thought it was better to keep it to myself. It turned out alright in the end.” Claire told him, surprised he was as calm as he was. She had figured he would’ve gone a little off the deep end about her keeping such a big secret. He tended to overreact.
“Yeah, if you discount that screaming match earlier then everything turned out terrifically.” She gave him a warning look, taking note of the sarcasm. “Sorry, just saying you might’ve saved yourself the inquisition this morning had someone else known.”
She licked her lips, contemplating whether she should say what was really on her mind. What the real problem was. If there was one thing this whole fiasco had taught her it was that it was better to just be upfront, than to lie and keep secrets. “Honestly Charlie, it would be a little awkward.”
“Awkward?” He asked, raising an eyebrow like he was surprised.
“You know what I’m talking about.” From the way he avoided her gaze she knew that he did indeed understand where she was coming from. “Ever since we broke things off all it’s been is uncomfortable exchanges and…mumbled greetings. We talk about Aaron, that’s it.”
“Yeah but it doesn’t have to be that way.” Charlie replied, and she just gave him an odd look. How could they possibly fix this? This hadn’t just been a few weeks like the first time they’d stopped talking towards the beginning of their long stay on the island. This was a year of distance.
“How?” She asked, a challenge almost. “How can we possibly fix this? It’s been too long, Charlie. It’s just not meant to be.”
“Then why did we crash here together? You kept going on about the astrology stuff, and kismet or whatever.” He began, and she shot him a look that told him he was putting words in her mouth. Yes, she believed in that sort of thing, but she had never related it back to them. “Look, I’m not saying we’re destined to be together or whatever. But to know each other at least right? After all we’ve been through we’re both still here, and we can’t seem to avoid each other as much as we both try, what with Aaron and everything else. Maybe we should just start over…forget all this, how bad we seem to have buggered-up everything.”
“That’s not going to…I mean we can’t just go back. There’s too much baggage.” Claire tried not to make it sound like she was dismissing his idea entirely. He was trying, and he was making as convincing an argument as she had ever seen him make, but still, she just didn’t see a happy ending with them. Not now, maybe not ever.
He chuckled, “We have baggage? You want to talk about baggage, just look at our fallen hero over there. Kate’s been sitting on that shore watching him the entire day, not saying a word because he can’t remember her. And he’s completely oblivious, besides the fact that Sawyer hates his guts. They have baggage, not us. It hasn’t been three years for us.”
Claire looked out at the beach to find Kate was, sure enough, her head turned to watch Jack as he talked with Sayid. Sawyer hadn’t gone near her all day, and that was wise enough. She didn’t envy anyone in that situation. Charlie wasn’t wrong; they had it way better, way easier.
“All I mean is maybe we could try to put it all behind us. We could be friends or something. That’s all I’m asking.” He reached out to touch her shoulder, carefully, drawing her attention back on him. He really was putting himself out there. “And if it doesn’t work, then at least we can say we tried. We didn’t just give it up because we had a rocky start. I mean we’re on island; we’re going to be here awhile. It’s not like there’s a lot of places to hide. I just think it’s best to try and get along. For Aaron’s sake.” There was confidence in his last words. He knew it would appeal to her, since they both knew that Aaron viewed them as his parents, and the fact that they had just suddenly split up had confused him. It wasn’t what she had wanted. “It’s up to you.”
She glanced back out at Jack, watched him give Kate a look, lock eyes with her, and then turn away. She watched the woman’s face fall. Claire knew Kate was lonely; that Sawyer wouldn’t be there for her to lean on because he was too busy nursing his own hurt pride.
She didn’t want to be lonely. She didn’t want to be in that situation, with no one to go to. No one left.
“Okay,” she said, before she even made the conscious decision. Claire found his eyes, which lit up at that single word. Full of hope. “Okay, I can do that. I can do friends.”
“Really?” Charlie asked, testing her, making sure she was serious one last time.
“Yeah,” she responded, her voice more certain the more she said it. She wanted this; she was tired of hiding. A grin broke out on his face. “We can give it a try.”
---
He couldn’t just watch her sit there and not do anything. She’d been sitting on the shore, bare feet digging into the sand, and when the tide came in it washed over them just barely. Jack knew she had been watching him. She wasn’t trying to be obvious about it; she was trying to act like she was just scanning the beach. They both knew better than that.
Jack didn’t understand her. There was too much missing; Kate was only another mystery to him.
I know that she cared about you. She still does. Take that into consideration before you write her off as someone to avoid.
Claire’s words made him feel like he had some sort of responsibility. Say something. Anything. He hadn’t even said a single word to her since he’d been back. There had been nothing to say. She hadn’t approached him, not like Sawyer had all fervor and fury and ready to throw down. All she did was watch.
By the time the sun had disappeared and the only light around the camp was that of the fire and the stars, he had gotten worried. She was still there, showing no signs of going anywhere. It was like a trance, the way she just stared out at the water, surprisingly calm for the time of year. He couldn’t just leave her out there all night.
After dinner he finally got up the guts to seek her out.
“You do this all the time?” He asked, when he was close enough for her to hear him easily. Her head whipped around to look at him, eyes flashing with something like shock. She really hadn’t thought he would come around.
“Yeah.” She smiled, as she looked down. It wasn’t a happy smile, so much as one of sadness, of memories. The thing he didn’t have. “You used to tease me about it. About sinking.”
Water goes out, takes the sand with it and you sink. I used to do it with my mom when I was a kid.
He closed his eyes for a second, trying to find his place in that moment. He didn’t know where he was, or even what time of day it was. But he could hear her; he could feel her. And then it was gone again, just more disjointed whispers.
They were both silent for a long minute. He tried to form words but he inevitably would stop himself and rethink the statement he was about to make. Finally she told him, “You don’t have to do this Jack. I’m glad that you tried, I really am, but if I’ve got to move on I can’t do it with you here. It’s too hard.”
Jack dropped down into the sand in response, almost in a bit of a rebellion. They needed to get this sorted out; he needed answers. “What exactly are you moving on from?” She looked his way again, confused, and he could see there were unshed tears in her eyes. Kate blinked them back rapidly, trying to hide any and all vulnerability from him. “I just...I don’t know…” he stopped, unable to find the words he was so desperately searching for.
“We were friends. Close friends.” She interjected immediately, answering his question before he’d even asked it. He wondered if this was the way it had always been, if she had always gotten him as easily as she did just now. It couldn’t be that simple; no one ever really understood him. “And I don’t know what would’ve happened if things were different. I wish I did.”
There was more than that he knew. Hell he’d practically gotten that much from Claire. But he knew he didn’t really have the right to push. She probably wouldn’t share anyway.
“I missed you.” The words slipped from her lips, and her voice was small, wavering. Not at all the angry woman he’d heard yelling that previous night, or the strong-willed one on the beach this morning. Clearly it would be quite a challenge trying to figure her out, perhaps more of one than he could handle even if he wanted to. Had he ever understood her before? “That’s all I know.”
And then it was like she couldn’t look at him anymore. Like she had shared too much. She folded in on herself, drawing her knees up closer, and wrapping her arms around them, like someone would do if they were cold. It was anything but cold.
“I’m sorry.” He said, after a few seconds. His voice was almost as quiet as hers had been. “That I don’t remember.”
“It’s probably better that you don’t.” Kate replied, some misplaced sarcasm in her voice mixing with acceptance. “There are things you’re better of not knowing. You might think twice about coming over here then.”
That gave him an opening. He could continue -- he could tell her that he wasn’t completely clueless as to who she was -- or he could leave. His mind screamed ‘leave’ but another part of him was telling him that it was better if he tried. “I know about what you did, if that’s what you mean,” her eyes snapped over to him, and he could see the fear in them. Her entire body stiffened, and he could feel the energy in the air change. “I knew didn’t I?”
She nodded, “You found my mugshot. But I never told you what I actually did. Not really.” Kate bit her lip, something going through her head. Perhaps a particularly bad occurrence because she shivered. He wanted to ask, but decided now wasn’t the time nor the place. “Just that I killed someone.”
He winced at the admission. Killed. Murderer. He was supposed to be the good guy, the hero, and here he sat with a woman who was anything but. Still he forced himself to push those thoughts aside, to get back on track. “Well I may not know you very well, but I know myself. And there had to have been a reason why we were still friends, or whatever we were. I may be missing my memory Kate, but I remember bits and pieces every now and then, and they all seem to be about you. I don’t want you to just move on, I don’t want to just let go. I want to know you.”
Her lips parted like she was about to speak, but she only exhaled, looking at him in disbelief. Obviously she had pictured this turning out differently. So had he. Jack hadn’t planned out any of this, and yet here he was, speaking as if he’d memorized these lines.
“Or we could just move on, and pretend whatever happened never did.” He added, backing off a bit. “I don’t know which is the better option. I don’t know. And I won’t unless you let me try.”
“I don’t want to move on,” she whispered. Her decision. She wasn’t ready to give up on them. He hadn’t thought she was.
“Okay,” he replied, with a nod, and a slow smile. She gave a breathy laugh, and smiled at him wryly, the simple action doing funny things to his heart. A smile like that he would’ve thought he’d remember. He nudged her shoulder, and she nudged him back, moving just a bit closer to him, so they were almost touching, but not quite.
And that was where they stayed until the last fire had died out up the beach, and it was just them and the gentle waves. Hopeful, in spite of all that was lost between them.