ficinabottle

Title: Fiftyone Steps
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sometimes the solution is a mere fiftyone steps away, and yet those steps are the hardest ones you have ever taken. PostRescue.
Characters: Kate, Jack/Kate
Note: This is also posted on fanfiction.net, using my other nick Littlebee.
Disclaimer: I don't own LOST, it's characters or anything else even remotely connected to the show. No infringement is intended.

Fiftyone Steps - Caught_in_a_Net/Littlebee

The sirens were blaring loudly in the near distance. Kate leaned heavily against the walls of the concrete tunnel she was hunched up in, hoping that she was safe, that they wouldn’t look, that perhaps that they weren’t even looking for her. Her pounding heart told her otherwise, beating loud enough it seemed, to give her away. It had been such a long time since she was this close to being caught, not since she had got back from the Island and had had to dodge police officers in Sydney Harbour. That was almost five years ago. The only survivor she had seen since then was Jack. Seven times in five years, or rather in the first three; the reason why was sitting in her lap, strapped in a baby carrier, whimpering softly. Gracie, nearing 15 months, had been conceived at the sixth of those times, and even though Kate had seen Jack once after that night he still didn’t know he had a daughter. As she listened to the sirens grow weaker and weaker in the glum darkness, she recognized to herself that the reason for the fear gnawing inside her was Gracie. Gracie didn’t deserve being woken in the middle of the night by sirens and running and screaming. Kate truly didn’t want for her to grow up on the run; to live in fear like she had done growing up, even though it wasn’t the same sort of fear. What would happen to Gracie if she was ever caught? There was no birth certificate proclaiming a father, no legal documents, no nothing. There was not even an informed father who could fight for his rights. Gracie would with all probability be taken by the social services, and she would never see her mother again. Kate held her closer to her chest, kissing her soft brown curls. Gracie blabbed an incoherent sentence, wrapping her arms around her mother’s neck, pulling a little at her hair. As Kate held her close, taking in her scent, she made a decision. Jack needed to know about his daughter. Jack needed to take care of her.

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They spent their night along the motorway, trying to hitch a ride. The rain was pouring down, Gracie was screaming bloody murder, and they were both hungry and tired. Car, after car, after car drove past them, most of them only slowing down slightly or honking angrily, upsetting Gracie even more. Kate wiped a wet strand of hair from her face and made sure that her raincoat was covering her daughter properly so she wouldn’t get wet. The old and worn pack she carried on her back was heavier than the almost-toddler in the baby carrier on her stomach. The green sturdy bag held everything that was their life. Socks and knickers, some t-shirts for her, warm clothes for Gracie, some food and water as well as a few other necessities. There was also Pugsy, the grey teddy bear that Gracie treasured more than anything. Sometimes Kate thought that it was a little bit sad that her and her daughter’s entire lives fitted into a 35 litre knapsack with an unruly zipper. She wished that it could have been different; she wished that she had still been on the Island where she was just Kate, and where people liked the person she really was. She shuddered, things weren’t like that anymore. Even though several of her fellow survivors had made statements to the media, supporting her and her actions, that was a long time ago. Nowadays, no one seemed to be bothered any longer. She couldn’t, and didn’t, blame them in the least, she had pushed them all away; but what choice had she had? Prison? She knew she would never survive that. Who knew for how long; it could be 20 years; life?; death sentence? She knew that she was born to run, there was no other option. Spotting a truck in the distance she stepped closer to the road, and waved for it to stop. It swooshed past, spraying her and Gracie with muddy water, leaving Kate screaming after it in the dark. She barely noticed the lights that came to a halt by her feet, nor the opening of a car door, it wasn’t until someone called after her that she even stopped screaming.

“You want a ride, love?”

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The car was comfortingly warm and smelled of a red wunderbaum tree that hung from the rear-view mirror. The driver, Ruth, was a lady in her mid-sixties, who kept her car well stocked on cream crackers, coffee and old jazz records copied to cassette tapes. She had immediately started gushing over Gracie, who had been on the verge of being too tired to enjoy the attention. If Ruth had recognized Kate, she didn’t show it, and Kate had learnt that that often meant that she was safe.

“Where are you headed, love?” Ruth asked, after they had been in the car for almost thirty minutes. Kate looked up from her sleeping daughter, and turned her gaze to Ruth. She didn’t know what to answer. What could she say? If Ruth, by some chance, knew who she was, it was risky to tell her anything. She looked out the windshield for a moment feeling both afraid and ashamed.

“I…” She started, biting her lip and pressing Gracie closer to her chest. Ruth smiled warmly when Kate finally dared to meet her gaze. The old woman chuckled slightly, and patted Kate’s knee.

“I knew a young woman once,” Ruth started, her eyes back on the road again, her smile changed into one of remembrance, but it held no trace of bitterness. “She made a mistake, a big one, she hurt a lot of people, so she ran.“ Kate looked away from her face, concentrating on Gracie’s curly brown hair. “She had a little girl, just like you do, her name was Kirsten. Her hair was golden, and her eyes just like hazelnuts on Christmas.” Ruth fell silent for a second, and Kate looked back at her face. Remorse was now written clearly on her face, and Kate thought she could see tears forming in the older woman’s eyes. She wanted to ask what had happened to the young woman whom she herself had so much in common with. She wanted to ask what became of the little girl, but before she could ask, Ruth continued her story.

“One winter, Kirsten fell ill. She was barely five. The young woman knew that it was pneumonia. They had been living in barns and sheds for the bigger part of the winter and Kirsten had had a continuing cold since early autumn.” Kate involuntarily hugged Gracie tighter, trying to deny what she knew she was going to hear in a matter of seconds. “Kirsten died in March 1975. Four and a half weeks before her fifth birthday.” Kate looked up to see Ruth still staring through the windshield, tears running down her cheeks. “I know you think it best to keep running, love. I did too, but, honey, please stop before it is too late.”

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She had been to his house before. Seven times. Each time he had opened the door with a smile and led her inside. They had talked, kissed and made love like there was no tomorrow; and every time when the morning finally came, she left. And he let her go. Each and every time. This time she knew she couldn’t stay. She couldn’t bear the look on his face, could never explain her actions to him. She knew that she had let him down one time too many now; had been too selfish to forgive. Now, she just needed one more selfish act, and then it would be over. Everything would be the way it was supposed to be. Almost.

Gracie was fast asleep in Kate’s arms, her head lolling back and forth on her shoulder. The green backpack was slung over Kate’s shoulder, not quite as heavy anymore. The reason for that was the bright red plastic bag by her feet, containing all of Gracie’s things. Kate wiped a tear from her cheek, brushing away an obnoxious strand of hair as well. Her chest hurt at the thought of leaving Gracie; abandoning her with Jack, even though she knew that the girl would be loved and looked-after. The thought of never seeing her, or touching her, possibly forever, hurt more than she had imagined, and even that was a lot. She nuzzled her nose into Gracie’s hair, taking a deep breath and intending never to let it go again.

“I love you!” She whispered, her tears wetting the brown strands of hair and her lips tasting salty when she kissed Gracie’s head. She forced herself to walk up to Jacks porch. She had often imagined herself living there, being married to Jack, having children with Jack. She had always waved it off as a dream. She knew that she had to run. Now, at least, Gracie would get to live that dream. And maybe, someday in the future, Jack would be married to someone else, and Gracie would have a new mom. A mom so much better than herself, just like Sam Austen had been a so much better father to her than Wayne had ever come close to. With the hope that her decision would, in the end, turn out well for her daughter she took the final steps onto Jack’s porch. She put the plastic bag on the wooden bench that sat just outside his door and eased the backpack down from her shoulder. Her tears were streaming wildly down her cheeks and she was afraid that she would wake Gracie if she couldn’t calm down soon. She squeezed the little girl close in her arms, seriously doubting that she could ever let go of her. She stood with her daughter in her arms for what seemed like an eternity, crying silently, desperately trying to find words to make it easier. Trying to find words to express how sorry she felt at that moment. Sorry that she ever screwed up in the first place. Sorry that she ever ran. Sorry that she had to keep running. Sorry that she just couldn’t give Gracie all she needed. Finally she found that she had no tears left. She kissed Gracie once more, murmuring that she loved her. Then she clenched her teeth together and placed her daughter next to the plastic bag on the bench. Gracie huddled up instinctively, using the bag as a pillow. Kate placed Pugsy in her arms and the little girl squeezed him tight. Drawing her gaze from her daughter, she forced herself to ring the bell to the door. When no sound was heard she rang again, and again. When, finally, she heard his steps on the stairs, she tore her gaze from her daughter and her heart into pieces and she ran, for all she was worth. She ran until she could no longer hear him call her name; until Gracie’s screams became a figment of her imagination. Until she reached her destination, and it was all over.

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The rain drops splattered onto her face, but she hardly noticed. She sat on a bench staring at the house across the road from her. It was nearing sunrise, but the light of the new day was the least of her troubles. The thoughts of her daughter brought tears to her eyes and almost made her stand up and run back to Jacks house, to where she knew her daughter would be. The constant worry over how Gracie was doing; was she hungry, or tired, or sad, kept nagging inside her, and she found it difficult to breathe. She knew that even though Jack would do his best, Gracie was bound to be devastated and confused and scared witless. Her heart ached even more as she imagined her daughter crying and she bit her lip hard. She forced herself to stay seated on the bench, knowing that she could not trust herself not to return to his house at this point. She tried to tell herself that what she was about to do would turn out the best for everyone involved, especially Gracie. The girl would be better off with her father who could actually provide her with clean clothes, food and a warm bed. Her thoughts drifted to Jack, and how angry he had to be. She had dumped their daughter on him; a daughter he had never known anything about, and expected him to be the one to pick up all the pieces, once again. She felt guilty for counting on him to do that, again and again. Fix everything; now, she needed his help to fix something she should have fixed a long time ago. She knew that he, at least eventually, wouldn’t mind looking after their daughter. She told herself that maybe, once he found out what she was about to do, he might be able to forgive her. Forgive her for never telling him; forgive her for abandoning her daughter; forgive her for always taking him for granted. Maybe he would see that what she was about to do was the only right thing, and that she had put it off for too long. She hoped, although she was in no way certain that it was possible, that one day Gracie too might be able to understand, if not forgive.

She had always imagined that she would be scared. Scared out of her wits because of the unknown infinity that waited behind those doors, but sitting there staring at the single light on the bottom floor she only felt calm. Somehow, behind the aching hurt in her chest and the stinging tears in her eyes she felt that perhaps, finally, she was doing the right thing. For once. The sky had turned a pale pink above her head before she got up from the bench, the single light in the window not as clear in the almost-daylight. She counted the steps across the road and to the bottom of the three stone steps leading up to the double glass doors. Her last forty-eight steps as a free woman. She looked up at the sign above the door. Police Office, it read, blaring white letters on blue. She took the last three steps, fifty-one in all, and knew that in effect her next step would be the step of a woman condemned because after opening the door, there would be no way out. She thought of Gracie and how this might be the only way she could have a chance of ever seeing her again. She thought of how she might finally get rid of her nightmares; clear her soul of all the guilt and the deep dark secrets. She laid her hand on the door handle, and before she had time to think, to change her mind, her hand, her arm, her body pushed inside and Kate the Runner was no more. A woman in her fifties, her hair cut short and dyed black, smiled up at her from behind a desk across the small room. Kate willed herself forwards eyeing the police officers that were visible behind the tinted glass wall behind the receptionist. She closed her eyes as she stopped a meter and a half from the woman’s desk.

“Is there anything I can do for you, hun?” The woman asked, concerned and yet cheerily. Kate opened her eyes, focusing back on the smiling woman.

“I…” She stared, and struggled to keep the right words coming. “My name is Kate Austen.” The woman kept smiling and Kate took one last deep breath, counting silently to five.

One

Jack, asking her if she knew how to sew; trusting her without knowing her even in the slightest.

Two

Jack telling her that everything would be fine. Leaning up against him, softly pressing her lips towards his for the first time. Letting herself trust again.

Three

The panicked look on his face as she told him that she was going to run the moment they hit shore in Sydney; knowing with all her heart that she had hurt him, but he still let her go. Because they both knew she needed to.

Four

Holding his daughter for the first time, wishing so hard that her heart shattered that he was there with her and knowing that he would have been, if he had known.

Five

Hearing his hurt voice call her name, mixing with the shrill cries of Gracie, waking up without her mommy, stranded with a strange man, on a strange bench in a strange neighbourhood.

She knew that she had hurt them both so bad in the years before, but she also knew that this was the only way of making things right again. She opened her eyes again, and swallowed hard, exhaling slowly.

“I would like to turn myself in”