Title: Parallelism
Rating: PG
Summery: She couldn’t breathe sometimes, when thinking about Tom. It wasn’t even what happened to him, what she did to him, that haunted her anymore. It was their life before, when they were young and happy and in love. Tom would always been that little boy to her, the one that she had believed she would spend her life with. She thought of how far away she was from him now, from that girl that he had loved. She thought about it, and she couldn’t breathe.
Disclaimer: I do not own Lost. At all. I wish but alas...
Author's Note: For mysticxf, in response to this prompt: Sun and Kate's first conversation/interaction after captivity. I'm also counting this as my entry for psych_30, prompt #23: vicarious.



Sun carefully balanced a laundry basket on her hip. Pushing the hair from her eyes and trying to adjust to the glare of the sun. Ever since the hatch had imploded and taken the washer and dryer with it, doing laundry had become even more of a chore than it usually was. Rose had offered to do the laundry for her, let her relax and put her feet up, but there was something about the thought of sitting still and letting someone else do her work that made her feel both guilty and restless.

“Damn it!”

She turned sharply to see clothes being tossed left and right, bags turned inside out and cast away, quickly forgotten.

“Kate?” Sun set down her laundry basket and approached Kate’s tent, cautious not to be hit by a flying tee shirt.

“Oh, hi Sun,” Kate said, turning slowly and tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear. She seemed embarrassed, even though the entire beach could very likely see the tornado she was causing inside her tent.

“Have you lost something?” Sun crouched in the sand next to Kate, absently straightening up the mess she was making of her belongings.

“Actually, yeah.” Kate pulled herself up to sit on one of the airplane chairs that she had managed to acquire after some negotiation with Sawyer. “It’s a small plane, a toy. I…I can’t remember where I put it.” She glanced up at Sun, and suddenly she looked so small, so young.

“Have you seen it?” she asked in a small, hopeful voice that made Sun ache and wish that she had.

“No,” she said. “But I will help you look.”



“Have you looked in this bag?” Sun asked, holding up a backpack for Kate to see. The other woman turned, than nodded.

“Twice,” she said. “Turned out all the pockets for good measure.” Frustrated, she threw the things she was searching through to the sand. “This is stupid. This is so stupid.”

“Kate.”

“You really don’t have to do this Sun. I’m sorry I bothered you.”

“Kate, stop.”

She swallowed down every tear she wanted to cry, every pain she wanted to show, and turned to face Sun, determined to put on a brave face. The wheels quickly fell off that plan, however, when she found Sun holding her plane in the palm of her hand.

Slowly, Kate reached for it, almost convinced that it was made of sand and would fall apart as soon as she touched it. It felt heavy in her hand, all of the sudden. She hadn’t held it in so long, seen it in so long.

She smiled, lop-sided and sad. “Thank you.”



“What is it Kate?” Sun asked, eyes cast down to the plane that Kate was rolling around in her hands. They were burrowed into the sand outside of Kate’s tent, watching the ocean. They had spent twenty minutes in silence as the tide rolled in and out, Kate playing absently with her toy plane and Sun staring into the distance.

“It’s a plane,” Kate replied, detached. All of the sudden she felt, and sounded, so far away.

“Kate.”

With a sigh, she ran her hand through her hair. “It belonged to the man I loved,” she said. “Tom. He…we…” She couldn’t breathe sometimes, when thinking about Tom. It wasn’t even what happened to him, what she did to him, that haunted her anymore. It was their life before, when they were young and happy and in love. Tom would always been that little boy to her, the one that she had believed she would spend her life with. She thought of how far away she was from him now, from that girl that he had loved. She thought about it, and she couldn’t breathe.

“What happened to him?”

“He died.” Kate wouldn’t meet her eyes, couldn’t really. Instead, she watched the plane as it turned around and around in her hands. “It was my fault.”

Sun nodded slowly. She knew what Kate must be thinking, that her confession would shock Sun, would drive her away in shock and judgment. What Kate did not understand was that Sun was the last person on the island that should be handing out judgment, and the last person that would. Especially now.

“I killed one of them,” she said. “The Others.” Sometimes she can feel the gun, heavy in her hands, hear the loud pop when it went off. Sometimes she wakes up sweating, leaves the tent for long periods of time, and when she returns, explains to Jin that it is just morning sickness. Maybe it had been once, but it wasn’t any longer.

“I thought that she had killed my husband, and Sayid,” she explained. “I thought…and I was wrong.”

The sun began to set over the horizon, casting the camp into darkness. The signal fire lit the camp, becoming lower and lower as the night passed on. The two women remained on the shore, with their knees pulled to their chests and foreboding thoughts growing in their minds.