underneath and unexplored, islands and cities I have looked

[hightail]

It isn't until turbulence hits, both unexpected and not, that Kate finally allows herself herself to believe. Jack, despite all insistence to the contrary, was sold from the start. Even if he himself didn't know, she could tell. She saw what it did to him; what it did to them. He's always been a man of greater faith than he ever imagined he could

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[cibosity]

It's too soon.

Everything in life is just a matter of time. You give a man enough years, he'll travel and see the world, one way or another. You walk along enough paths, you'll come across the same faces, some more frequently than others, but encounters all the same. In the back of his mind, Sawyer's been expecting this, coming across that girl again, the one who was always on the run and never stopped even to take a breath. But he hasn't been hoping for it. Instead, he's tried to wear away frantically at the memory of her, sanding it down until the details smoothed out and blurred in his head. Some days, he's even able to convince himself that he's starting to forget, because he doesn't really have the right to remember when he stopped fighting to keep her long ago. But that's just the thing.

When he comes across a woman laying next to the waterfall, hair damp but still curling in stubborn waves, he knows, and it's like someone's driven a knife into his gut all over again, turning it with a painful wrench. It's too damn soon"Son of

[hightail]

Had Sawyer decided to voice those thoughts, they might have finally found themselves agreeing on something, Kate too believing it to be much too soon when she hears his voice coming from somewhere above her. She was expecting it, of course; she knew this day was fast approaching, inevitable, but even once back on the island, she thought she would have more time. Days, at the very least, in which they searched through beach and jungle for those left behind. But, as usual, the island had other plans for her.

"Sawyer?"

With a short, low groan, Kate lifts herself up by the elbows, taking it slow not because she's hurt but because the water is freezing, the smallest of movements sending a cold shock along her spine. "Long time," she says, coughing through a casual smile which is in no way appropriate for the situation, yet in every way necessary. Joking tones and fake lightheartedness; it's always been their way of avoiding the important subjects. Her way of ignoring, if only for a moment, the past three years.

[cibosity]

It feels wrong not to be extending a hand in aid, but maybe it's necessary to keep her in his dreams for now. Touching her would be too real. Even just the warmth of her hand in his might be too much, so soon after he made the decision to fall behind. And maybe some part of him jumped off of that helicopter for noble reasons- there was no one else on that craft who could have coped any longer back on the island, he was sure- but there's no denying that some part of him was simply searching for that excuse. He's just not ready. The dirt is coarse under his feet as he steps a little closer, enough so that mist hangs in the air and kisses his skin, sending a shiver down his spine. He licks his lips, too dry for lack of care, before he crouches just an arm's length away and shrugs off his shirt to wrap around her shoulders as soon as she climbs out

[hightail]

The day of the press junket for Oceanic Airlines, Kate remembers waiting backstage (Aaron asleep in her arms) with the other five. Together they sat as partners in crime, shoulders heavy with the burden of a lie they hoped would protect their friends, though they all knew the likelihood that they were, in fact, achieving the exact opposite. It was, however, decided, and far too late now for any of them to pull back. And so they sat, silent and anxious, waiting to hear their introduction echoed from the podium at center stage. It was then, Kate recalls, that she first heard in plain English exactly how long they had been stranded. All at once, she felt shocked and confused, incapable of understanding how all that time could be condensed into such a small number; into mere days and months as opposed to years, to a lifetime

[cibosity]

Three years.

There's a secret tally that Sawyer's kept in his head from day one, like scratching lines into a prison wall, five by five. Australia didn't keep him holed up long enough to merit such treatment, but from the moment that Oceanic 815's survivors sprawled out over the beaches of the island, Sawyer knew that he was going to be there longer than he liked. One by one, he counted the days as they turned into weeks, and eventually months. There was another life that they'd managed to live on the island, all of them starting from the ground and working their way up as quickly as they could, forming new personas for themselves and reaching out to the other survivors, in need of friendship and reassurance. Maybe in that sense, it was more time than any one of them could have, would have asked for. But it'd also passed in the blink of an eye. Something impossible like that

[hightail]

She wonders, however briefly, if Sawyer is talking about the second island, the one on which they were once held prisoner, but his tone and choice of words leave little unanswered, and to wish differently would simply be denial. The Others had boats on the second island; it would be much too easy to get back.

"What do you mean?" It's more of a demand than it is a question, and although she knows that he's not to blame - that, if anything, they are both in this together - Kate can't help directing her fear and anger at Sawyer, if only for a moment. She would direct it at a tree, if there were any close enough to kick; at a rock, if there were any small enough to throw; at herself, even, if there were no one else around. Finding Claire was a difficult enough task when she had en entire island to scour on her own, but how is Kate supposed to locate a missing woman when she herself is, for all intents and purposes, lost?

[cibosity]

Of course, he's going to wonder what gives her the right. What gives her the right to come back and demand answers of him when the whole point of the matter was that those people who were leaving on that helicopter, they never asked enough questions in the first place. Refused to believe Ben Linus' warnings. Sawyer wants to believe that their instinct was the correct one, as ready as he almost had been to leave right with them. He prefers thinking that he was sending everyone off to a better life, that if he was never going to meet gazes with them again- Kate, Jack, Hurley, the others- then at the very least they should be holistically happier for it. But she's back, and she doesn't sound surprised at having wound up under a waterfall, and that means she wanted back in the first place

[hightail]

If she was panic-stricken before, Kate isn't sure of the word for how she feels now. Distraught, enraged, desperate? She doesn't allow herself enough time to consider, instead choosing to delve back into her inquisition of Sawyer, her thoughts too clouded, for the moment, to consider how he feels. She isn't a person who's ever had much to lose, never much at stake, but for the first time in her life, she had finally achieved… peace. Calm. The kind of lifestyle people worked years toward; the kind worth sacrificing everything else. Worth severing all ties she had formed on the island, as cruel as it may seem.

And she gave it all up. She threw it away so that Aaron might one day know his mother, and now, here she stands, hearing from Sawyer that it's next to impossible. It wasn't enough that she finally agreed to return; now she doesn't even get a choice.

"What about the plane? The one we were coming back on, did it crash here, too?" She saw the light; she knows it's a long shot. Still, Kate has to ask.

[cibosity]

Everything in this encounter seems to suggest that Kate's falling apart at the seams. It's a behavior that isn't like her, and yet is, all at once. Kate Austen's never quite been fully pieced together, that much Sawyer believes, because if there are no gaping holes in one's life, then there's nothing to scramble for. Maybe she's running away, but her eyes are sharp enough and her heart big enough that she's also running toward something, whether she knows it or not, and that fact has never been more obvious to Sawyer than now, with her directing some amount of frustration or even anger in his direction. All he can think is that it's not his fault

[hightail]

Defeat. The word for what Kate is feeling, she finally decides, is defeat. No matter what she does, it's clear now that she's stuck here, that luck didn't work out in her favor and there's nothing she can do about it. It only figures that she would get stranded the moment she found something worth living for; something worth staying for. (There was a time, she knows, when she thought that Sawyer just might be that something. That he could be her rock; her anchor. But she thought the same about Jack, too, and she was wrong both times

[cibosity]

It hurts. It still hurts, like sand being rubbed into a raw wound, but with a slow heartache buried under as well. The very presence of Kate sitting some distance away tugs at him like a magnet, only he knows he can't let himself be sucked in. It'd be unfair to him, to her, to anyone for them to try anything when they're just not damned ready. When both of the are reeling from shock. So he sits down on a rock and looks away, giving her that time to herself, wondering why it is that she's so upset. Maybe it's Jack. Maybe it's Aaron. Or maybe it's both of them, and it almost hurts more to think that Kate's actually managed to salvage some amount of a family for herself, only to have it taken away

[hightail]

That look - it's one Kate has seen only a handful of times before, maybe less. They're quite the pair, she's thought before, both guarded and jaded and weighed down with the baggage of all those things they can't admit or confront. Both broken, maybe beyond repair, and that possibility is enough to prevent them from trying, more often than not. It was enough to keep her running, once upon a time. (For a moment, she can almost see Kevin's face; hear his voice, smell his aftershave

[cibosity]

It's like he's in the examination room, all lights turned up in full, raining heat down on him without reprieve. She's asking questions, and that's the last thing that he wants. He's had opportunities to forge that bridge right on back between them before, that day that he saw her with Claire in the middle of the jungle, the fear melting into a joy as bright but tremulous as the fist of a newborn waving in the air. Time paradoxes be damned, he could have stepped out then, taken her in his arms or even just meet gazes with her, but he didn't, and perhaps it was at that point when he stepped away that Sawyer realized that he wanted to grow, if not for her, then at least because she had been in his life. And those feelings that he had for her

[hightail]

"Earlier," Kate reckons, unable to recall when, exactly, despite having allowed herself a good few minutes to consider the question. It was breakfast in Jack's kitchen, but that feels like months ago, if not years. She finds it almost impossible to believe that just this morning, she and Jack were were exchanging words over scrambled eggs and toast.

"I'm fine," she adds, "I'm not that hungry." After the day she's had, it would be a miracle if she had managed to retain her appetite, but Kate doubts very much that she'll be able to keep anything down. She can't argue his previous point, though, already driven to shivers despite the blazing sun. "What's the Compound?"

[cibosity]

She's standing there and trembling like a damn leaf in the wind, yet she's no way Kate's going to let Sawyer feed her, he thinks. Whenever the help is offered on its own, offered out of the goodness of someone's heart (or at least, a need to allay personal guilt), it's like she refuses on principle. Maybe she thinks people too good for her, but Sawyer definitely isn't sure he's ever fit that description before. But she's still shaking, after all, and after no more than half a minute he decides it's enough, breaking that distance, throwing a heavy arm around her shoulders and guiding her in the direction of the Compound whether she likes it or not. With the way his whole body freezes up, maybe she'll see that this, this is just doing a favor. He's not asking for anything else. Hoping for anything else

[hightail]

After three years in a different world altogether - on that, at times, made as little sense as the island ever had - it feels beyond surreal to stand here with Sawyer once again, his arm around her back, as if they had never been apart. But there are differences, small and subtle to the casual observer, that reflect the years past in ways she can't ignore. There's nothing easy about this, Sawyer's touch not at all relaxed against her, like the hold of a nervous ex-lover afraid of crossing an invisible line. (And, in a way, that's exactly what they are, with all the other complications stripped away.)

Still, she makes an effort not to react too noticeably, not to make more of this than it actually is. Even if 'what it actually is' is almost as obscure a matter as 'what it once was.'

"You live there?"