Thank you, boar expert!

NOTE: Set in the landof_reprisal-verse. Lincoln mentioned is id_mademypeace.

The sun rises on a new dawn. Yet few of us realize the debt we owe to those responsible for this. To those who dwell among us. Anonymous, seemingly ordinary, whom destiny brought together to heal, to save us, from ourselves.

We made it through the night.

We survived the threat of the Others, and the threat that came from a computer system we knew nothing about. Pushing that button...I honestly don’t know what to think about it. We did what had to be done to give ourselves time, and we made it through the night.

I don’t know why it’s sticking with me this way...I just know I woke up this morning, and I felt it in my bones. That first breath at the end of sleep, cool and moist, opening my eyes and resisting the urge to rub the sandpapery feel from them for just a minute...I felt really good.

I could still feel him with me.

Somewhere in the middle of the madness, I kissed Lincoln and he kissed me, and...well, a lot of things just came to a head between us. There’s things we should talk about, things I should tell him...things I want to ask.

It bothers me that I remember the kiss less than his closeness. Oh, don’t get me wrong, he’s...well, a great kisser. Still, when I woke up this morning, feeling something close to safe? I thought of the kiss less than I did the moment when I hid my head against his shoulder...just for a second, finding a safe place to be while he helped me get free. I didn’t touch my mouth, remembering how his felt on mine...I hugged myself, remembering the embrace in the kitchen of the Hatch. I remembered how my arms felt around him...how his body felt so close to mine.

There’s something else there...has been since we met that first day. All I know is that he’s the biggest reason we all made it through the night, the reason we all survived. He knew what to say, did what he had to do, and was there when he was needed.

And now that we know...about each other...I just hope I can be for him the kind of person he’s been for all of us.

Muse: Kate Austen
Fandom: LOST
Words: 349

NOTE: Set in the landof_reprisal-verse. Lincoln Burrows mentioned is id_mademypeace.

All things are difficult before they are easy.

When things get bad, I bolt. It’s what I do...it’s all I’ve known for far too long. I’ve seen a lot of things on the road and on the run, but the one thing I rely on to get me through isn’t love or strength or even any sort of survival instinct...it’s the flotsam and the jetsam, the unfettered things. It’s freedom that keeps me going. Things get rough, I cut and run.

I’m not boasting or trying to earn sympathy, and I’m not proud of the facts as they stand. I’m just trying to make it clear as I can when I say that being on this island is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. And the scary thing is that it’s getting easier every day.

It used to be that I felt exposed all the time, because there was nowhere to hide...penned in because there was nowhere to go. It’s a living prison, this place, and ten times worse than the real thing because I’m taunted at every turn by sun on my face and fresh air in my lungs.

But knowing Lincoln...it’s changed everything.

And I’m really not talking about having feelings for him...I mean just simply living in the same circles as the man. He’s a rock in every sense of the word...steady and sedentary. He doesn’t move if he doesn’t have to, and he does it with a strange sort of grace. He’s grounded...he stays and faces whatever his world has to offer, and he does it with a strength of character I really admire.

He’s grounded, but not rooted. He’ll be absolutely steady for the longest time...then something will send him off like a shot. In his head, or in a very literal sense, he’ll take off so hard and so fast no one can catch him. He can run further than I’ve ever dreamed of, and he can do it in a heartbeat. Instead of a rock, he’s a boulder careening downhill at top speed.

It’s in those moments that I find myself taking off after him...not running to escape, but running to chase him down. He’s the anchor...the rock, the center of everything, even when he’s moving at full speed.

And I don’t know when I got tethered to him...but that bond has made the hard things I face every day that much easier to get through.

Muse: Kate Austen
Fandom: LOST
Words: 407

Back in the real world, you’ll probably learn the most about me at the local post office...height, weight, eye color, aliases...rap sheet. I mean, knowing Edward, he probably made sure that the wanted posters stayed in relatively heavy circulation.

Yeah...I’ve had some trouble with the law. But I suppose that’s ultimately an understatement.

My name is Kate Austen...by now, you’ve probably heard about me on the news. I was one of the survivors of Oceanic Flight 815...The Risen Dead, I think the media was calling us for a while. Anyway, I’m back here...in the real world.

I ran for a long time...I did a lot of things I’m not proud of. And right now...I honestly have no idea what’s going to happen to me. There’s been some talk about pleading out the charges against me...a reduced or commuted sentence, but I’m not holding my breath.

I’ve seen things...done things...above and beyond the crimes I’ve committed, the things that happened to me on the island we were stranded on changed me. Who I am, what I’m about...the relationships I formed...

The authorities say I’m dangerous. I think I still am...but I’ve never been a bad person. And I can’t deny...after running for so long, it’s gotten into my blood. It’s who I am.

But after what happened to me on the island...I’m not sure where the hell I’m running anymore.

Let us so live that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry.

She regretted everything and nothing.

Kate’s whole life was nothing but lies, half truths, and transitions...moments between the events that should have counted for something, should have mattered in any other person’s existence. Then again, she’d always had a talent for slipping through the impossible spaces of the world...

With her hands stained bright red with blood, and her body worn to the bones with the fatigue of running, she held on to little else but the regret...the knowledge that somewhere, on some level, she still cared enough to be sorry for her sins. She still felt pain, she could still feel guilt...heart and soul, she wasn’t completely dead inside. Not yet, anyway.

Survival was priority number one...regret and remorse were the two only luxuries she allowed herself.

Until she kissed him.

It continued afterwards...ducking and dodging to find those safe harbors in motion. One moment to the next, even on the island she was always on the run. She told the half-truths...she told the lies.

It was the lies by the fire that she regretted now...the lies about missing his arms and his taste.

“I’m sorry I kissed you.”

“I’m not.”

And as long as she lived, Kate knew she would never be sorry again.

Muse: Kate Austen
Fandom: LOST
Words: 217