"What if the storm ends

and I don't see you as you are now

ever again.

What if the storm ends

and leaves us nothing except a memory.

A distant echo…"

-Snow Patrol

Thirteen years.

Thirteen years since she had last been on the island. Thirteen years since Ajira Flight 316 crashed on the island, since she had last had to fret for her life, since she had traveled through time, since she had tried and failed to move on with her life, move on without them, those that had died… move on without him.

Thirteen years since she had said goodbye to him. Thirteen long, difficult years. And yet, in those years, her memories of that moment did not fade, not even a bit. She could still remember her sobs, the sad shake of his head, the desperate, longing exchange of "I love you," and worst of all, watching him walk away.

"Kate… you've gotta go, and get Claire on that plane." Jack approaches her, hands clasped over the wound on his side. They both remain silent for a moment, staring at each other as if trying to record every last detail in their memories.

"Tell me I'm going to see you again." Kate pleads, but Jack just shakes his head. He doesn't say anything; he doesn't need to. Kate moves towards him, and their lips meet for one final kiss. She pulls away before saying her last words to him. The last words he heard out of her mouth before he died saving them all.

"I love you."

He smiles before replying hoarsely, "I love you…" He turns and walks away, one hand on his side over his wound, the other out to balance himself as he staggered to what would be his doom.

Today was a particularly rough day for Kate Austen. It was September 22, 2020, the sixteen year anniversary of the day that fate began its course and Oceanic Flight 815 crashed onto the island, the anniversary of the day that she met Jack. Sixteen years ago to this day was when she first met the man she loved, and it was a day each year that she spent in mourning, remember all that she and Jack had been through together.

Kate pulled out the old wooden box from her closet and sat on her bed to sort through its contents. Upon opening it, she found herself staring at the first of many of the photos that the box held. It was one of Jack, Aaron, and her. Their expressions were carefree; they looked happy. Anyone that didn't know better would say that they made a lovely husband and wife and that their son was beautiful. But they weren't husband and wife. They had never gotten that chance before they had broken up. Nor was Aaron their son. They had tried and failed to play the part of a normal family. It just wasn't in the cards for them; fate had other plans.

As she stared at the photos of times gone by, memories of Jack played in her head like a movie reel. She could see each scene clearly, as if only a few days had passed since they had happened, not over a decade.

"…and the terror was just so… crazy… so real. And I knew I had to deal with it. So I just made a choice: I'd let the fear in, let it take over, let it do its thing. But only for five seconds. That's all I was gonna give it. So I started to count. One… two… three… four… five. And it was gone."

Kate knew that story by heart. Ironically, it had helped her get through the painful first years after Jack's death. No matter where she was, she could always just close her eyes, count to five, and she could imagine him next to her, counting along.

"If you're thinking about going for the cockpit, I'm going with you."

Jack paused before saying, "I don't know your name…" He chuckled slightly.

Kate smiled before answering, "I'm Kate."

"Jack."

Thinking back on that fireside conversation their first night on the island, Kate laughed at the odd fact that she had stitched up a gash in his back, he had shared a personal story with her, and all that time, during their first meeting, it never occurred to either of them that they did not know each other's names. But now, Kate thought, she wouldn't have changed their time together back then for anything, because they needed to have gone through all that to get where they were going.

Snippets of conversations they had shared flashed through her thoughts. Her memories of his voice hadn't faded any more than the rest of her memories of him had.

"All the misery that we've been through would all just wipe clean. It never happened…"

"It was not all misery."

"I'm sorry I kissed you…"

"I'm not."

"I need you to make me a promise Kate… promise me that you'll never come back."

"I couldn't find you…"

"Will you marry me?"

"I have always been with you."

Kate sighed, letting the plethora of memories wash over her. Like she had once told him, their time on the island was not all misery. The three years that she had known him were some of the best years of her life. When she was with him, it didn't matter who she used to be, who she had been before the crash. "It doesn't matter who we were., what we did before this. Three days ago we all died. We should all be able to start over." Jack had spoken those words and they had pierced her heart like a knife. To Jack, she wasn't a criminal, a murderer, a thief…. She was just… Kate. None of the rest mattered as long as she was with him.

And now here she was. She had been without him for thirteen years. Sometimes she wished she could return to the island again, just to see for herself if he might still be there, might still be alive. But she knew in her heart that it would be a waste. Jack's death wasn't one of those things that she needed to be told about; she could feel it in her bones, shaking her soul like an earthquake.

Kate stood up, placing the box of photographs on the bed, and crossed the room to pop a CD into her radio. She hit the "play" button and listened at the song began, the song that she always listened to on this day, her day of remembering him.

"This is the way you left me

I'm not pretending

No hope, no love, no glory, no happy ending.

This is the way that we loved, like its forever.

Then live the rest of our life, but not together…" (Mika)

On cue, tears formed in her eyes. A song could help a person cope with whatever their life threw at them, she found. And this particular song plucked at her heartstrings; there was no happy ending. Not without Jack.

Forty-eight. That was the number of people that had survived the initial crash of Oceanic Flight 815. Of those forty-eight, only four had survived the events of the three following years. And of those four, only three had returned home from the island.

Three lone survivors of that fateful day that Flight 815 crashed on the island. Three people with stories that would baffle audiences for ages. And still, those three people: Kate Austen, James Ford, and Claire Littleton, had not shared their story with anyone, had not told anyone about the island, with only one exception: Aaron Littleton.

As Kate headed for the kitchen to brew herself a pot of coffee, she stopped to look at the photo of Claire and Aaron on her table. The boy had grown since the three years that Kate had raised him as her own. Upon returning from the island on Ajira 316, Kate and Claire had revealed to him the truth about who his mother was. It was a lot for a three-year-old boy to take in, but he somehow understood. He had lived with his mother for the past thirteen years, and was now a tall, toned sixteen year old with short blond hair. It was stupid of her to think so, but she couldn't help but wonder at the fact that Aaron looked strangely like Charlie. It was impossible, she knew. But there was something about Aaron that reminded her of his surrogate father, who had sacrificed himself so that they rest of them could be rescued. Aaron had heard the story about his "father," or, at least who he thought of as his father. He had met his biological father, Thomas, a few times in his lifetime, but Aaron had come to his own decision that he didn't want the man in his life. Claire had told him about how Thomas had walked out on her, and Aaron being as close to his mother as he now was, he wouldn't forgive Thomas for that. Charlie was his father. He insisted on that, even if it wasn't biologically true.

He had heard stories about the rock star his mother had fallen in love with on the island. Being that he had only been a tiny baby at the time, Aaron himself didn't have any memories of the island, or of Charlie. Claire had filled him in, telling him about everything from the heroine addiction to the peanut butter, and Kate had told him further stories on top of those ones. He had researched Charlie Pace online, and Kate would never forget the day she visited and saw Aaron's DriveShaft poster hanging on his bedroom wall.

Kate smiled once more at the photograph before her eyes moved to the one beside it, the one that had been taken shortly after arriving home for good thirteen years ago. Seven faces smiled up at her from within the frame: Claire, three-year-old Aaron, James, Miles, Frank, Richard, and herself. She had a more recently taken one of them all in one of the other rooms, and not much had changed from this one to that, except of course for Aaron and maybe a few more gray hairs scattered among the rest of them. She saw Claire and Aaron almost every week now that they lived in Los Angeles, and she still got together with both James and Miles regularly. Frank and Richard seemed to be the only ones that were harder to keep in touch with. Frank was constantly off flying one plane or another, making a living as best he could, and as for Richard… well, Richard continued to be the walking enigma that he had always been. The man had lived on the island for over a century, it couldn't have been easy for him to adjust to living around here in modern times.

Mentally reminding herself that she had been craving coffee, Kate headed to the kitchen and put a pot on to brew, cleaning up a few things around the room while she waited. She had just finished washing the last of the dishes when she heard the doorbell ring.

Ding dong. Ding dong.

She didn't know it then, but all her prayers were about to be answered. That was when she opened her front door and found herself face to face with a man she hadn't seen since the last time she had seen Jack. She almost didn't recognized him; his hair was shorter than it used to be, and he had lost a significant amount of weight, probably due to the fact that he had lived for over a decade on an island where his typical meal included fish and mangos. But nonetheless, Kate knew almost instantly that the man in front of her was none other than Hugo Reyes. What she didn't know, however, was what was in store for her.