ficinabottle

Title: Tracker, Chapter 14
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Skate, Jana, others
Disclaimer: I don't own LOST
Summary: Set during S2, immediately post-WKD, Kate, Sawyer and several other characters go off into the jungle after Michael, learning secrets of the Island along the way.
Spoilers: Season 2

A/N: Tracker is an extremely lengthy, multi-chapter fanfic that I wrote during Season Two. I plan on posting a couple of chapters a day if I can, so please check back! By the way, blame

kirvash if you get hooked on it. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 14

The pace was much faster with Locke leading and after a few hours Kate felt Sawyer start to lag, as hard as he tried to keep up; she slowed her pace and let the others go ahead. She preferred them to be alone, anyway, everyone was so tense and agitated it was uncomfortable. She saw Jack glance back at them a few times as they fell farther and farther behind; he didn't seem too concerned and she was taken aback a little by how distant and detatched he seemed.

Sawyer was distant too, he barely spoke and while she could attribute some of that to fatigue, there was clearly something wrong. He didn't touch her, or look at her as they walked; he stared into the distance looking haunted and hunted. Tell me, she thought, tell me what's wrong. But she couldn't bring herself to ask; she was afraid to. Instead she just ached silently, not touching or looking at him.

It was a long afternoon, and Kate was relieved to see the sun finally setting, casting cooling shadows over the canopy. It was amazing how quickly the jungle became dark, she thought, as twilight fell and they halted.

Sawyer dropped onto the nearest rock, cradling his arm. It was hurting, now, a dull throbbing ache that he could feel in the bone; Kate tried to help him, but he cringed away from her touch, pushing her away with a curt, "Not now." Looking hurt, she turned wordlessly away and went to help with firewood. Sawyer kicked himself, but he couldn't bear to look at her; every time he did, this horrible vision swam before him. He'd seen things in the Cloud, in the second that he gazed into it; he saw the boots, and the boar, and the horse, and Frank Duckett, and Frank Sawyer, and Kate...on the jungle floor, blood pooling behind her head. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind but it pushed into his conciousness, forcing him to see it dancing in front of his eyes, haunting him; he didn't want to touch her, or look at her, because every time he did he saw her...dead. He stared at the ground in misery.

Kate didn't glance back. What the hell was going on with him? she thought. Was it because of Jack? Somehow she didn't think so; with Jack it was animosity and competition, what she saw in Sawyer now was fear. For the first time she considered maybe the Cloud had done something to him, but what? He seemed fine physically, and he wasn't acting insane or -her stomach dropped at the thought, sick- he was just...removed. From her. She picked up some branches and began breaking them into smaller pieces.

"Kate," Ana-Lucia spoke at her side. "Can we talk to you for a minute?"

We? Kate thought. She shrugged, "Okay. What's up?" She dropped the branch she was holding and wiped her hands on the back of her jeans.

Jack and Ana glanced at each other, and Kate saw in that instant- she'd been replaced. She was on the outside now, looking in at Jack and Ana. She felt a little loss, but she pushed it aside. "I recognize some of this territory," Ana said, looking at Kate. "I've been here. It's going to get dangerous now, and," she glanced at Jack again, "We're not sure he can keep up." She nodded at Sawyer, who was still staring at the ground looking miserable. Kate caught the glance between them and it galled her.

"He's a grown man," Kate said, gesturing back at Sawyer. "Why don't you tell him yourself?" She bent down and picked up another handful of branches, suddenly needing to break something badly. "Or are you just going to drug him again?"

Jack snorted. "We're not gonna do anything. I just wanted you to know that if you fall behind we're not going to wait on you."

Kate was shocked into silence for a moment. His tone was so indifferent and cold it was like a slap in the face and as Ana's hand snaked up onto Jack's arm she smiled slyly at Kate, who stared back at her with venom. She glared up at Jack and met his eyes; for an instant his commitment wavered and he swallowed hard and looked away. "I'm sorry, Kate."

"Yeah," she said, feeling inexplicably betrayed. "Me too." She glanced at Ana, who was eyeing her warily; Kate couldn't think of anything appropriately nasty to say, so she threw her a withering stare and stalked off towards the now-blazing campfire.

Eko was watching Sawyer closely; it was time, to once again carry the Cowboy. He touched his crucifix. My cross to bear. He smiled to himself, and walked quietly up to Sawyer. "How are you doing?"

Sawyer didn't look up; he just growled, "Just fine. Go away." He couldn't look anywhere without seeing her bloodied body in front of him; it was making him sick.

Eko squatted beside Sawyer and touched his shoulder gently. "What did you see?" he asked kindly, and Sawyer finally looked up, his eyes glinting with tears. He stared into Eko's eyes, and he said hoarsely, "I see...her...dead."

Eko nodded. "Yes, I thought as much." He smiled wisely, and Sawyer felt the misery and terror of the vision fade just a little. "How did that make you feel?"

His eyes left Eko's and scanned the clearing, finally resting on her sitting by the fire staring blankly into it. "Dead." He whispered. "I felt dead."

Eko rose, and Sawyer's eyes followed him. "The future is not solid, like a stone," he said, "it is fluid and ever-changing. It is like sand; always shifting, mercurial, trickling through your fingers. But when compressed, pushed behind us into the past, it becomes as stone; then, and only then is it unchangeable." Sawyer felt his heart lifting. "What you have seen is not necessarily your destiny. The roads and the paths you choose will determine your future. And hers." He nodded towards Kate.

For the first time since he had seen the Cloud her bloody body didn't dance in his vision. It was relieving. He suddenly wanted to do nothing else but look at her, touch her. "How do I know what path to take?" he asked. It was suddenly very important that he know.

Eko smiled sadly. "That is something you have to find out on your own, Cowboy," he said, touching his shoulder again. It felt like an electric shock. "But if you want something enough, if you desire something enough, the Island will find it for you. But it will want a sacrifice in return. You must decide if your desire is worth the price." He glanced at Kate, still sitting forlornly by the fire. "I think that will be an easy choice, my friend."

Sawyer grinned. He could breathe again. His arm wasn't even hurting as badly. "Yeah," he said, and just then Kate looked up and caught his eye. She gave a curious little smile, as if asking if it was okay. He grinned sheepishly at her, and she rose to come to him. "Ed," he said, watching her with something like awe, "I believe that'll be the easiest decision I ever make."

* * * * *

Late that night, Eko and Locke sat across the fire from each other. That invisible force still kept them apart; as they stared at each other electric pulses started washing over them both; sparks flew in the air and they simply sat among them; absorbing the power of the Island.

"You saw it." Locke stated; it wasn't a question.

"Yes," answered Eko. "As did you."

They were silent again, and the sparks whizzed by like fireflies. "Do you still think this is all just coincidence?" Locke finally asked. His eyes were snapping in the electrical show, and he looked strangely possessed.

"Yes." Eko said. His arms were out, absorbing the pulses of light. "If everything is decided by fate, then why do we have the power of choice at all?"

John laughed. "It doesn't matter what choices you make," he said, looking evenly at Eko. "All roads lead here. To this moment. It is destined to be that way."

Eko leaned in close, the waves of light pulsing under his skin. "It is our power of choice, John, that decides which road we take. The path I choose will forever remain with me. So while my road may lead here," he pointed to the spot they were sitting, "It is how I choose to get here that matters. And that is not fate."

They sat staring at each other; the dark and the light; the yin and the yang. The sparks died and the fire flickered. The jungle was dark again.

* * * * * * *