A/N: Pretty much as soon as the finale finished, this was already running in my head. This is so far beyond my comfort zone, so you'll have to bear with me on this. I NEVER write chapters and I barely write dialogue. I'm not sure how many parts this will be, but I have most of it planned out. I just couldn't leave Kate's time without Jack untouched. I know everyone is going to do it, but I felt like I have to take my turn at it. It's just so heartbreaking that she lived so long without him, but I am SO SO happy with the end we got. I couldn't ask for anything more.

This may be my last fic for Lost ever. I love Jate and I love Lost and they both ended so perfectly that I feel as if I need to leave it untouched.

I hope you enjoy my little attempt. And I'll try and be speedy with updates! :)

Disclaimer: Don't own them.

"Where are we headed?" Sawyer calls from across the row, trying to get Frank's attention, but you can't seem to care about the answer to that question. You squeeze Claire's hand, focusing on the fact that you did what you came here to do. You concentrate on that and try not to think about anything else. But emptiness fills you, a heavy weight deep in your chest; you could crash into the ocean at this very moment, sink down into its depths and not feel a thing. Claire squeezes your hand back. She looks at you and you see it, a glimpse of the old Claire, a mother just trying to calm her child. You smile though your eyes slowly fill with tears. You hold onto her like an anchor and try not to look back.

"We had enough fuel to get to Guam, but I think I know a place closer. It's a private air space. Old friend of mine," Frank yells from the cockpit.

Question answered, Sawyer sinks back into his chair. He closes his eyes and you see one silent tear track down his face. It's only then you realize that you weren't the only one who left something behind.

"Everyone, this is Paul. He's an old friend of mine from the Air Force," Frank explains as a man covered in tattoos emerged from a dilapidated building off the air strip. His dog tags sway as he walks stiffly towards them.

"Old war wound," He chuckles drily as he catches you staring. "So what can I do you for Frank? Anything for an old buddy."

"We need passports, new identification, and a boat," Frank rambles off, much to the surprise of everyone.

"What's this about Frank?" Miles asked. "You taking us to another deserted island?" There was curiosity in his normally sarcastic tone this time, and you couldn't help but wonder what Frank was exactly playing at.

"Listen, we've got 5 people here who are supposed to be dead and one who isn't exactly supposed to be out of California," Frank said, staring at you pointedly. "But I suppose you've already got your bases covered. I saw the flight manifest. Kate Austen never boarded the plane."

Everyone turns to you then, and you just wish you could disappear for a moment. Because you know where this is heading. It's the lie all over again; only he's not here to make the brunt of it lighter. "I knew if I wanted to make it off the runway, I'd have to be someone other than a criminal on probation. I got the fake passport a long time ago, paid for the ticket in cash. I can still be Kate Austen as long as no one ever figures out I left."

"Well if you're covered, I'm assuming this new identification is for us?" Sawyer pipes in, focusing his attention once again on Frank.

"I'm not sure anyone even knew I was missing in the first place," Miles said. "I don't have any living relatives."

"I most certainly don't," Richard chuckles.

"Well, you're still gonna need IDs. Come on," Frank motions as Paul led them back into the hanger.

Five hours and one uneaten dinner later, you are still Kate Austen. But on this side of this new lie, this new life, you feel as if that means nothing. You look ahead and see nothing; the thought of getting caught once you get back to LA doesn't even really seem to matter anymore.

In the end, only Sawyer changes his name. "James LaFleur," he mutters to Paul. "I've got people looking for me back home. The kind you don't want to be found by," he says gruffly to you as you look on. But you know from the furrow in his brow that it means so much more.

The boat ride is quiet, lonely. Six vacant, empty souls, seemingly unable to move on. Claire thrashes in her sleep; nightmares cause her to tremble even as heat waves roll over your body. You stroke her back lightly as the tears once again begin to fall.

They all come home with you because they have nowhere to go.

It's a comfort. It's a comfort because to be alone in that big empty house would only remind you of all that you had lost. Every inch of that house crawled with his presence, right down to the picture of him and Aaron on the front table.

You light a fire as Claire grasps a framed picture of Aaron in her hands. She's nervous, you know, but you can't help but feel some small sense of relief. They'll be together again tomorrow. You did what you set out to do.

And as the rest of them fall asleep one by one, you watch the fire slowly burn itself out. In the darkness you feel at home.