Pictures

by KNS

Characters: Jack, Kate, Sawyer
Genres: Future Fic
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Not mine, not one character. Used respectfully, will be replaced in good condition.

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. . .Then we,
As we beheld her striding there alone,
Knew that there never was a word for her
Except the one she sang, and, singing, made.
~ Wallace Stevens "The Idea of Order at Key West"



The ceiling is white and the walls are bare, but sometimes they giver her paper and crayons to ease the boredom.

She likes to draw. She's been here so long that no one wants to listen to her anymore – a thousand stories that all finish the same (everyone wants a happy ending, at least now and then.) All the tales begin with troubled strangers and end with sadness, solitude, or death (such is life.) So she draws pictures instead, pretty places for the brave and flawed strangers. No one can resist smiling at a palm tree on a white-sand beach, even if the people sitting in the shade look like weary accident survivors.

Between the walls the monsters emerge at night, loud and hidden, cloaked in shadows. She's careful to remain within sight of the others, incase they need her or she them, but that's about the extent of their relationship. The occupants of this island have an unspoken agreement: unite against a common enemy, but otherwise everyone for themselves. When the monsters come, loud as old boilers, they all cling to the small flames of the nightlights.

One of the castouts likes to hoard other people's things. He'd take hers, too, except that she hasn't anything to steal, having lost everything a long time ago. Once in a while he remembers that, comes to watch her draw and count her freckles when she smiles at him.

There's a doctor who comes every few days, a prestigious man everyone heeds. The doctor is always prompt, 8:15 and not a minute late. He likes her, for some reason. She likes him, too, and things might have been different between them if the situation was different. Once he brought her a game from childhood, her favorite – jacks. But the prize was quickly confiscated , and she never had the heart to tell him. He likes her pictures, says they look like nice places to get lost.

"I've done horrible things," she confessed to him once.

"Haven't we all," he agreed, sighing. A few days later he brought her a small airplane. "Make sure it doesn't crash in those beautiful waters," he said, referring to her pictures.

She spends her days drawing, when she can. When the paper is gone and the crayons have been taken, she pulls out the child's airplane and adds to her thousand stories that no one wants to hear.

She's decided that in her next life, her name will be Kate.

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