Disclaimer: Lost isn't mine. Otherwise, I'd be on Hawaii with them.
A/N: Kate's thoughts around the fire during episode 2.19: S.O.S. As soon as I watched the episode, I wanted to read that, but no one's written it yet, so I decided to give it a try. My first Lost fanfic. Oh, and I'm not quite sure of the actual lines, so please forgive any mistakes if you know better.
"How long are you going to wait, Jack?" She glanced at him sidelong as he looked around their little clearing, still searching for the Others. Funny, she thought, he's looking up, almost as if he expects them to fall from the sky.
Well, for all we know, they do.
"Until I get my voice back. Then I'm going to yell some more." He rubbed his throat gently, and she shivered. Why did he always do this to her? She knew fierce, she knew passionate, but Jack was so intense it was frightening. She thought back to that time when they were hunting for Ethan, and had found Charlie hanged. She'd been terrified anyway: she'd liked Charlie, and the whole situation was frighteningly surreal. But then Jack did what Jack always did, and refused to give up, banging on the dead man's chest until, somehow, Charlie had coughed and gasped and revived. But Jack was scary. He refused to admit defeat, even when he was defeated, and got damned desperate.
Today, Jack had yelled for an hour straight into the rain, ignoring the silent response and Kate's yells. Once more, she found herself terrified, both of him and for him. She remembered the feel of a gun barrel against her neck, and shouted for him because she didn't know how to treat bullet wounds. She watched him, fiercely protective of his territory, so intense she could almost see the rain boiling off of him, and she shouted for him because he was intimidating even her, the hardened outlaw and his friend. She shouted for him because there was this voice in her head that didn't want him to stop, that could only notice how gorgeous he looked. She shouted for him because she wanted to be out there with him, yelling into the rain, totally unafraid of the consequences. Once upon a time, she would have had no fear. But she had found life on this island, after the crash, knowing that, for once, she didn't have to hide. She wondered if perhaps this was how Jack lived. Maybe putting himself in mortal danger was how he relieved the tension of leading an island full of people.
She hoped he could find another outlet. Soon.
"Maybe they can't hear you."
She watched the fire, unable to look at his face. Oh, this was awful. Things didn't use to be this awkward. She used to be able to talk to Jack; he was her best friend, and not only on the island. She could joke with him, laugh with him, flirt with him, confide in him. Now they spoke in short, strained sentences. She needed to do something.
"They can hear me, Kate."
He sounded scornful. Kate realized with a shock that he had, more and more often lately, as he spoke to her. She had to make this better, even if she had to lie.
"I'm sorry I kissed you."
She'd done it. My God, I've done it. She was shaking uncontrollably, shivers cross her skin so deep her soul was almost shaking. She tried to stop, but failed miserably: she could feel the tremors up and down her body as she waited for his answer. He was going to answer, right? What would he say? Kate vaguely expected. "Don't be;" it was what he always said to her, taking the blame off her without actually making her feel better. Please, she thought, don't say "Don't be."
Oh God, why wasn't he answering?
"I'm not."
He's . . . not?
Kate couldn't even form a coherent sentence in her head, and she was shocked by the sound of footsteps running through the jungle. By the look on his face, so was Jack. Maybe the Others had heard him, after all. Without looking, Kate saw Jack pull out the gun and hold it ready; even in the aftershock of the previous conversation and the fear that had suddenly overtaken her, she noticed every little thing about him. As they prepared themselves for whatever was coming, Kate saw the torch fall into the clearing, followed by the figure of a man. Jack put the gun back into his jeans before picking up the torch and helping her roll the unconscious man over.
It was Michael.
Kate looked up and locked eyes with Jack, all awkwardness of the situation forgotten. Still, though Kate couldn't say she wasn't glad to have Michael back, she also couldn't say she'd ever hated him more.
A/N 2: Please forgive the silliness of the pun in the title. As a fervent Jack/Kate fan, I've been distressed the past few episodes, and this episode had me literally jumping for joy. And squealing. I would have embarrassed myself horribly, had anyone seen. So I threw the title together with the episode title (S.O.S.), the fact that this episode saved my 'ship, and the fact that Kate's desire to save her friendship/relationship with Jack precipitated her actions. Yes, I know it's silly, but it works, and I'm bad with titles.