You Okay? { Kate }

[Jack Shephard]

The Shephard home was spacious, large and elegant, and yet, it felt stifling and Jack wanted nothing more than to leave. This wasn't like the funerals on top of Boone Hill, it wasn't the open aired silence that they had. This memorial was small talk and questions. It made Jack sick to his stomach, and he searched for a way out. But everyone was here, all the survivors were here, wanting some sort of answer from Jack about the deaths of Aaron and Sawyer.

And Jack had no clue what to tell them.

Of course, he couldn't find an escape from his thoughts, however, he could find some fresh air for the moment. "Mom, I uh, I'm gonna go get some air, okay?" he asked his mother who was standing near him, before heading towards the stairs. He moved up the stairs, towards the second story balcony. He took a large gulp of the drink he held in his hand; the sweat on the side making it slippery in his hands. He stepped into the guest room, seeing that the door to the balcony was wide open. He noticed her there then, her back to him, and Jack couldn't think of a single thing to say to her as he came up in step behind her, meeting her gaze at the Los Angeles city life.

"You know, I hated this house." Jack finally said, his voice quiet. "I hated it and yet...this is the best thing about this place." The view...sure, it wasn't ocean-view on some far away Island...but it was simple beauty. You could see the sun rise and the sun set, and it was peaceful. Setting the drink down onto the railing, Jack felt himself look down before he looked over at her, brows narrowed in concern.

"Hey." he said after a moment. "I know me asking you if you're okay is out of the question now, and if you don't want to answer me, that's fine, but...you okay?" He paused, and felt himself look down. "I'm sorry, Kate. I feel--" he found himself lost for words. "I don't know how I feel right now. But I'm sorry."

[Kate Austen]

Kate looked out over the grounds of the Shepherd estate, the green lush grass that covered the ground up to their home swayed in the breeze that came off the ocean and twisted around the multitudes of homes and other obstructions. It reminded Kate of the breeze on the other island, the one teeming with hostiles and monsters, unexplainable things, but this one was more restrained. Not as wild but just as determined to move all its it wake. Here, though, it was somehow less comforting than it was on the beach, more chaotic as if reflecting its surroundings. Though both locations had their issues, Los Angeles was somehow less forgiving.

Perhaps it was the events of the week that brought Kate the foreboding on the breeze, but those thoughts were too deep for her to consider. Right now, all she could do was place one foot in front of the other, take one more breath. The breeze blew Kate's hair back from her face as she leaned on the railing, brushing her mind with whispers, memories of what was, what could have been. Her tears were dried, no longer was she able to muster them. The baby.. Sawyer. They were both gone now, and no matter how many tears Kate let fall, it wouldn't bring them back. So, Kate stopped crying, she stopped feeling. Instead she lived in numbness, a place that kept her from moving on or looking back.

Hearing the sound of the door creaking behind her, Kate paid little attention. It was just the breeze and if it wasn't, what did it matter? Soon enough, Kate knew it wasn't the wind as she heard Jack's voice. A feeling of warmth tried to come over her, but it was chilled immediately by the coldness of her unfeeling heart. Kate took another breath and stayed looking out over the grounds. Jack offered his observances, and Kate looked for the beauty of the place but found only shadows of what it could be. Her mind lingered not on the positives, but only on what it wasn't.

The silence came again, downed out only by her heartbeat. Kate felt more lost now than she could remember being in a very long time, and the only thing keeping her feet from running was that there was no place left to run. The breath she took before came out in a deep sorrowful sigh as Jack gained her attention with a question he already knew the answer to. Kate dropped her eyes from the horizon and looked at her feet, moving her toes which she had freed from her shoes. A part of her wished Jack didn't try so hard, but the rest of her loved him more for it.

"Neither do I," Kate said at last, acknowledging his words of apology. Another sigh escaped her lips and Kate looked at Jack for the first time since his arrival. "I don't think I know how to feel anything." Kate paused and looked back out at the horizon. "Even if I did, I'm not sure I want to anymore."

[Jack Shephard]

He could only nod. What else could he say to her statement? What else could he do but nod his head slightly and then stare out at the green grass. The wind blew slightly, and Jack brought the glass of scotch up to his lip, taking a sip of it before he set it back down. "They, uh...they used to teach us in residency to not get emotionally attached. Whenever we stepped into a room or...or whenever we were rolled a new patient in the ER, we were told to treat them as if the only thing you cared about was removing the trauma. It wasn't an actual person, they'd tell us. It's just a thing we need to fix. They said we'd be better off in the end; we'd be less crazy when we failed. I tried it for a while. Trying to fix the symptoms and not the patient. I couldn't detach myself long enough to just simply...focus on the pain and not the fact that the patient's looking at you like...like you're a angel. You're their saving grace."

He brought the scotch up to his lips again, taking in a small bit before he swallowed. "But other people...they were good at it. So much so, that soon, they were like that all the time. They didn't care about their friends anymore; they didn't know how to turn off the emotional block. One guy got sued for Malpratice and mistreatment and put a bullet in his head the year before I got divorced. What was I doing? The person that cared too much? Well, my wife cheated on me with a man I'm sure I probably knew and you know what the reason was, she said? She told me...I didn't care enough."

Jack found himself looking down at the white railing, and he scoffed slightly, shaking his head. "Look, I know I'm the last person that should be telling you this, considering my track record on the subject, but..." he looked over at Kate surely. "Whether or not you keep it inside or you let it all out...you can't focus on it. You can't focus on the pain and you can't ignore it, because either way...it's going to eat you alive. You just have to try to...move on."

God, what a hypocrite, Jack thought silently, but maybe after everything...maybe it was changing. Of course, this could simply be a byproduct of the changing weather altering his mood, or the scotch that was going through his system. Maybe this was simply a good moment that he took a look at the world without his alcohol-fogged eyes or without the glasses of his harsh youth. Slowly, he lifted a hand, placing it on the middle of her back. "We all dealt with things on the Island together. We can't end that now."

[Kate Austen]

Kate was the epitome of silence. She stood statuesque in the midday sun, letting the light play on her dark locks and the wind roll through them, making waves as if on the ocean surface. She held no malice for Jack. No anger. No fear. Normally she held nothing but affection. And confusion. Today, she found herself emotionless, as if gutted of her humanity from the long days and sleepless nights after the horrific murders of Sawyer and Aaron. She had allowed herself to feel again, and this was the reward of it. Numbing pain and heartless speeches.

Surely Jack was trying to be of some comfort, but Kate heard little more than empty words smacking the surface of her hardened heart. She could appreciate his trying, but all she wanted to do really was look at him and tell him to "shut up." His stories of his past were no greater than her own. Love lost. Seeing death. Failure. It was all the same, just with different actors in the game of life. Really he was just preaching to the choir. Kate knew everything he was saying, but knowing it made little difference when the wounds were so fresh. Maybe in a week, a month, a year... five. Maybe then she could internalize his message and that of her own experiences and come out the other side having given this loss a place in the past - just like all the rest.

Until then, Kate had the here and now. A present that was filled with something she had neither expected nor could grasp. It would take time. A lot of time. Sawyer she had loved, though she would never say as much. He was someone she related to, someone who understood her pain and inner demons. That was one of the reasons she was drawn to him, even when she knew he was all wrong for her. Then there was the baby, the tiny infant who had so much life stored within him, a child who reminded Kate of what could have been for her had she stayed with Kevin. She had grown to love the baby, seeing him as a sort of hope, a light for the future. Now two things she permitted herself to love were gone again. Kate had to wonder if life would ever be kind.

Jack paused and Kate turned her eyes to him from the green that had held her gaze for so long. She loved him too, albeit for completely different reasons. Where Sawyer understood her, Jack gave her hope. He was a bit like Aaron in that way. He was a great man with a good heart. A born leader who once told her he loved her. Kate saw that as nigh impossible to believe considering who she was, the person she had been, but she took that confession and held onto it. She felt love for Jack in return, but today? Today she didn't even feel that.

"I know," she replied softly. She tuned on the balcony rail, still leaning on it with her hip but now allowing herself to face Jack, a symbol of her trying to interact instead of closing herself off from him. She lowered her head slightly and looked at his shoes, savoring even a little that his hand had touched her, then drawing her eyes back up to meet his gaze. "I guess I just don't know what to do. I... can't even runaway this time. I have to stay and face it.... That's new for me, Jack."

[Jack Shephard]

Maybe he hadn't always ran away from his problems, but Jack knew exactly what Kate was saying, even if he had never actually physically ran. He'd always find some way to run away in his mind; he'd work longer and longer hours. He'd ignore people. He'd try to focus on anything else but the problem. It was that way after Sarah left him; he spent a month in Thailand trying to forget the problem. Out of sight, out of mind. Achira had been in his mind and in his bed, but no matter how far he tried to run, his problems always ran faster and turned a corner to slam right smack into him.

His fingers slid across her back as she turned to him, and he watched as her gazed slipped down to the ground, and then slowly back up to his eyes. He dipped his head slightly, eyes trying to keep on hers. "Take it from me. Whether you're running away on your own two feet or just in your mind...your problems catch up with you. You just get exausted either way." He brought a hand up, brushing a strand of hair that had gone wild, tucking it behind her ear. His fingers lingered on her cheek, eyes following each freckle until he met her eyes once more.

"But you're not alone, okay?" he asked gently. "We're--we're all here. I'm always here."

He wished he could snap his fingers and bring Sawyer back. Even though more often than not, Sawyer was a bane in Jack's existence, whether or not Jack wanted to admit it, Kate cared for Sawyer. And even thinking back, Jack had consitered Sawyer a rocky friend. He had drank with him. Sawyer had backed him up when he thought he'd let him just rush head-long into the fray.

"You're about the closest thing I've got for a friend."

He couldn't fix this, and it pained him. Annoyed him, even. He found himself looking down at his own shoes, and then back up to her face, hand still on her cheek. "And besides...think of it this way. He'd probably just tell us to stop bitching and moaning and then add some snarky, annoying nickname for both of us at the end."

[Kate Austen]

Sometimes Kate had to check herself and make sure she was standing in reality and not a dream. This was no exception, though for completely different reasons than she had been doing so the last several days. Jack, one of the best men she ever had the privilege of meeting was standing before her, a hand gently resting on her face as he tried like hell to help her from her pit of despair. Kate didn't deserve his attentions, nor his aid, and yet Jack never ceased to make her a priority. Not here, not on the island. Jack always cared for her, always helped, even when she did things that hurt him. She didn't deserve him. She never could.

Still, Kate couldn't keep her hand from rising to cover his as it rested on her face. She couldn't help but want it to stay there, for him to stay there, looking at her eyes the way he did. He once confessed he loved her. If only Kate had the courage to return it, but instead she waffled in a state of indecision, just as she had from the beginning. Her heart never could settle down it seemed, not on that island, and apparently not even here. She wrestled with feelings for both Jack and Sawyer ever since they returned to the mainland, and all it did was cause them all pain. If only Kate could have run and saved them all so much heartache.

If only she could run now. Instead Kate's feet gravitated to the floor below her while her eyes never left Jack's once he caught them, not until he drew them away to look at his own feet. Kate let her hand fall from his, thinking all she was doing was confusing him again, confusing them both, but he looked back up and cracked a small joke. Kate's countenance broke then. Her once stoic, almost distant demeanor cracked into a small smile. It was mixed with a lot of different emotions and Kate felt the tears well up in her eyes, one of them falling onto Jacks fingers that held her face.

Kate gave a small nervous laugh and tried to wipe at her face, looking away from Jack. She hated being vulnerable and yet that was all she seemed to be recently. After Sawyer and Aaron's tragic deaths, Kate never had been able to find her equilibrium again. Jack was right though. He hadn't left her. He was always there to help. Even when all she was doing was crying and trying to escape life itself by burying herself in her bed and not coming out, Jack still came. He called. He tried.

Kate didn't deserve him.

"You're right," Kate finally managed to say. That was what Sawyer would be telling them right now. Kate looked back at Jack, her eyes holding that familiar vulnerability with him. "You're always right."

[Jack Shephard]

"You're right. You're always right."

"No, I'm not."

He found himself laughing nervously, shaking his head slightly as looked down at his shoes once again as his hands still held onto her face. "No, no, I'm not always right. But I try."

The tear was wet on his fingers, and he brushed the wetness away, moving to place a kiss on her forehead. His lips lingered there as he closed his eyes. Of course, he didn't know where he stood with Kate. Part of him didn't even care anymore, but he knew that he'd always be there for her. He'd always be there for her, because no matter if she slept with Sawyer in a cage, no matter if she snuck off into Sawyer's tent when she didn't think Jack was looking...it didn't matter. Because he cared for her. Love was a strong word to throw around, but Jack had always done things that dealt with emotion strongly.

"We're gonna be okay." Jack found himself whispering against her forehead. "It's gonna be fine. I don't know when...but it'll be fine someday."

The sound of a car honking loudly made him jerk, physically and out of his own thoughts, the sudden sound strangely alien after three years on an Island where for a while, the loudest sounds were the sounds of birds calling to each other through the trees. His hands dropped from her face to her hands, taking them gently. He gave them a slight tug, pulling his head back from hers slightly. The car honked loudly again, and Jack gave a look of slight disgust down to the car, and then back up at Kate.

"C'mon. Let's go inside. We don't have to go downstairs. I think I'll go down there and kick that guy's ass if we don't go inside."

[Kate Austen]

Why am I being such an idiot? Kate chided herself.

She hadn't really thought through her words, them flowing from her intense emotional state and vulnerability around Jack. Kate knew she shouldn't have said he was always right. Jack wasn't always right, but in that moment nothing felt more like the right thing to say. Kate still stared up into his face even as he tried to brush off her words. Kate was delirious with her grief, but within it mingled love and she knew it.

That didn't mean she wouldn't deny it, however. Thus Kate remained silent, even as Jack brushed away her tears and kissed her forehead, drawing her into an embrace. Kate knew he was just trying to comfort her but that didn't keep her from remembering. The kiss they shared on the island, the way he said he loved her even when he knew she was screwing Sawyer on and off... Kate knew she loved Jack, too. She didn't know why she was so drawn to Sawyer but she was undeniably so. It befuddled her when they were both alive, but now? Now wasn't the time for this train of thought.

Jack moved from her with a start at the honking of a horn. Kate jumped a little, too, but her reaction was immediately calmed by Jack's hands falling down from her face and grasping her hands. Kate looked up at him, her red eyes still more open than she would have liked. She had to chuckled a little, albeit soundlessly, when Jack said they needed to move indoors lest he pummel the man downstairs with the horn. She brought the back of her hand to her mouth to try to cover her silent laughter, feeling a tiny bit awkward, but then let Jack lead her where he may.