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Everyone was protective of Claire.
Kate knew this. How couldn’t they be? The sweetest girl in their plane crash also happened to be nine months pregnant. Who could resist that? The wide blue eyes and constant smile, the general good mood, the accent, the fact that she made some of them, including Kate, feel much bigger and stronger, the list of Claire’s positive attributes went on and on. From being just a little nicer to her to readily risking their lives for her, everyone was at least a little bit protective of Claire. But Kate wanted to be different.
She knew how suffocating the protectiveness of a man could be. And she was learning firsthand how much worse it could be in their current circumstances. All those guys wanted to be the hero. Coming off as profoundly annoying to the women they assumed were helpless victims was, apparently, a small price to pay that they didn’t even notice.
Kate noticed, though. She noticed the uncomfortable weight of a hand on the small of her back when they were walking through the jungle and she didn’t even need the help. She noticed Claire’s uncomfortable smile, which should’ve been obvious from a mile away, when Charlie approached for the twelfth time that day. She noticed the way Sun’s entire body seemed to shrink in on itself whenever Jin looked at her the wrong way. These were just things that she’d grown up noticing. She couldn’t stop noticing them.
That’s why she was determined to be different. She was committed to looking after Claire in a different way. Never overwhelming. Never overbearing. Never so careful that it turned into offensive. She kept an eye on the younger girl, but she also kept her distance. She gave her space, and she never went too far. She would always be there for her, but if Claire ever needed her, that was for Claire to decide, not Kate. If, in the process, she started falling for the other girl, well, she didn’t have to make that Claire’s problem either. She thought that the lines were clear and that she was in control.
At the end of the day, Kate thought it really wasn’t her fault that new circumstances kept pushing her past her self-imposed limits.
As expected, Charlie was the first one to give her any trouble.
Kate didn’t even keep track of how many times he had messed up with Claire, but since the first time, since the very first time he tried to overstay his welcome at Claire’s side, Kate was there
“Charlie, you need to give her some space,” Kate said, still trying a little bit to come off as a concerned friend and not an overbearing protector. “Now,” she insisted, when he didn’t move, and her limits started to waver a little.
He gave in, turned around, and left. But, before Kate could turn to Claire, she felt the other girl reach out for her. Claire was still sitting in her makeshift bed in her tent, and Kate was standing in front of her, separating her from the unwanted visitor. Now, she felt Claire’s hand wrapping carefully around her wrist. The touch was so delicate, but it completely froze Kate. She held her breath for a second, just focusing on the feeling of Claire’s fingers on her. Only then did she notice that her hand had been pulled into a tight fist. She eased her fingers slowly, and when she was done, Claire pulled her hand back.
Kate turned around, already smiling a little timidly at her, wondering if there was a world where she could’ve possibly found the words to ask Claire to keep holding her down like that, holding her back, or just keep holding on to her at all.
Sometimes, Kate was there to help Claire in a different way. Not exactly protecting her from what she identified as a threat. In those situations, the limits were a little harder to identify. When Claire approached Jack about some concerns regarding Aaron’s health or her own, the doctor wasn’t exempt from occasionally dismissing Claire’s worries.
One day, when their back-and-forth went on too long, and it looked like Jack was about to bring the conversation to a close, Kate just couldn’t keep herself from marching forward and stepping in front of Jack.
“Can you just listen to her?!” Kate exclaimed.
It might have been the first time she raised her voice like that to him. She suspected it wouldn’t be the last, especially when Claire was concerned. It didn’t make her proud and, in fact, it made her feel uneasy almost right away. She didn’t exactly wanted to be the kind of person that raised her voice and started arguments like it was nothing, especially not if it ever made Claire uncomfortable. However, Jack listened. He gave up the argument and went to grab whatever medication he could offer Claire.
Once again, and she was barely starting to identify some sort of pattern, Kate stayed very still. This time, she realized the reason she avoided immediately looking at Claire was out of fear. What if she’d crossed a line? What if she had just acted as overbearing as she criticized Charlie for being? It frustrated her beyond belief not being able to control herself, and she was embarrassed by the idea that Claire might notice it.
However, even though Kate didn’t turn around, Claire stepped forward again. She placed one hand on Kate’s back, right between her shoulder blades. The effect was immediate. Kate’s entire body relaxed. Her shoulders, her jaw, her frown. But then, undoing that soothing gesture, Claire leaned even closer, and pressed a kiss to Kate’s shoulder.
“Thank you, Kate,” she said quietly, and with a touch more seriousness than her usual cheerful tone.
All of Kate’s worries vanished to leave room to overanalyze that tone and that kiss. And, of course, to mourn the fact that she’d chosen that day out of all to wear an actual t-shirt that was the cursed barrier between Claire’s lips and her skin. She wore tank tops exclusively for a week after that, praying that something would happen to prompt Claire to touch her again in some way, in any way, and for any reason.
Among other incidents, there was the day they ended up on a journey across the island with the company of Danielle Rousseau. And all things considered, Kate didn’t think she was in the wrong for not trusting that woman. Was it too much to aim her gun at her? Maybe. Just maybe.
“Get your hands off her!” Kate shouted, feeling something akin to volcanic activity in the center of her chest when she saw Danielle’s hands gripping Claire’s arms.
Her whole focus had narrowed down to Claire and Danielle and the little dents in Claire’s arms where Danielle was holding her. The island vanished. The world faded to the background. The only thing Kate felt like she could control was her finger on the trigger. That was the hardest part for Kate, to hold back, to stay still and wait, to keep herself from pulling the trigger or, better yet, throwing herself between the two of them. Keeping her aim steady and scowling from a distance wasn’t nearly enough, it didn't feel right to her.
Fortunately for all three of them, probably, Danielle did let go of Claire before Kate ran out of patience. The older woman acted in her usual enigmatic style, not even looking scared of Kate’s gun at all. She started walking away as if it was nothing, which was hard for Kate to watch, because she was still holding up her gun and feeling her entire body tense and ready to leap.
Kate was only able to look away from Danielle’s retreating back when she noticed Claire already standing beside her, already reaching up with both hands, one resting gingerly on Kate’s shoulder, and the other very cautiously covering the hand holding the gun.
“It’s okay, Kate, you can let go now,” Claire said.
Kate would’ve been embarrassed by how long it took her to relax her hold on the gun, put the safety back on, and lower her arm. But by the time she came back to herself, her entire attention shifted to making sure Claire was in perfect shape.
“Claire. Are you okay? Did she hurt you?” Kate asked her, perhaps a little frantically, but she considered it warranted given their circumstances.
“I’m okay,” Claire insisted, even giggling a little at Kate’s panic as her hands restlessly checked Claire’s arms. She was only a little more serious when she asked her, “Were you going to shoot her?”
“No,” Kate shook her head, “As long as she let go of you.”
“Kate.”
“I’m sorry?” Kate made it sound like a question, and a very urgent one at that.
She desperately needed to know if she’d failed, if she’d broken Claire’s trust, if she’d become the person she would’ve pointed a gun at to protect Claire.
“Don’t be,” Claire said, and smiled so brightly at Kate, so carefree, as if she hadn’t just waved away Kate’s utter terror like it was nothing. “Come on, we have to keep going,” she added.
With that same ease, Claire grabbed Kate’s hand, intertwined their fingers, and led her forward as they followed Danielle into the jungle. Kate was just speechless for a while, focused on keeping up with Claire, or walking just fast and carefully enough that maybe Claire would forget she was still holding her hand, just so maybe she would forget to ever let her go. If that meant Kate would have to follow her to the ends of the Earth, then so be it. She would be very happy there as long as Claire was leading the way.
So, it was far from the first and definitely not the last time that Kate would dive headfirst into a fight for Claire. But this one occasion would be hard to forget.
Once again, whatever relationship Charlie had imposed between him and Claire and Aaron had crashed and burned for a mistake of his own doing. Kate didn’t know the details. She didn’t need to, didn’t even want to know about it. All she knew was that she had been all the way across the beach when their argument started, so she’d missed most of it. By the time she became aware of it, and by the time that she started running toward Claire’s tent, the two of them had already lost their patience, started yelling at each other, attracted onlookers, inspired Sun to take Aaron away, and worst of all, Charlie had already put his hands on Claire. He was holding on to her upper arms, pleading with her to listen to him, and Claire wasn’t having any of it.
Kate ran toward them, and cursed the fact that she couldn’t let herself tackle Charlie to the ground for fear of taking Claire down with them.
When she was close enough, she yelled, “Charlie, let her go!”
He didn’t let her go, but he did briefly lower his head, knowing what was coming, and Kate guessed he must have eased his hold on Claire, because when she grabbed his shirt to yank him away from Claire, she barely stumbled.
“Kate, this isn’t your business!” Charlie exclaimed, regaining his balance and trying to walk past Kate, but only crashing against her body, blocking him from Claire.
“She told you to leave her alone,” Kate told him, pointing a finger at him in her best attempt to hold back from turning her hand into a fist already. “So you’re going to leave her alone. Now.”
“Come on!” Charlie insisted, more desperate now, and actually managed to briefly push past Kate. “We just need to talk, Claire. I need to see Aaron!”
Then Charlie made the mistake of reaching out for Claire again, grabbing her arm and pulling her forward, as if that could buy him the one second to talk to her that wouldn’t fix anything anyway. Kate decided that his putting his hand on Claire instantly robbed him of the privilege of that second of her time.
Kate pulled him back, away from Claire again, and this time she didn’t hold herself back from punching him in the face. Charlie stumbled backward, and Kate vaguely heard the crowd gathered around them gasp and step closer. Kate barely noticed their presence around them.
“Fuck!” Charlie exclaimed, cradling his face, but Kate could see the determination still shining in his eyes. He took a step forward, and Kate knew that he wasn’t done reaching for Claire yet, he just needed Kate off his path. He tried to look over Kate’s shoulder to talk to Claire, and he said, “Claire! Can you call your dog off so we can talk like—”
Charlie, of course, didn’t get to finish his sentence.
This time, because Claire was standing safely behind her, Kate didn’t hesitate to tackle Charlie to the ground. The crowd around rippled in concern, but no one was quick enough to stop her from landing the second punch on his face. And the third. And the fourth one.
Several pairs of arms reached out for her to pull her off Charlie, but she put up a fight. He tried to shove her off his body and almost succeeded. She fell and felt the sand scratching her face and arms, but it was worth it if only to land a kick on his stomach. If Kate had been able to focus on anything other than extinguishing this threat to Claire’s peace, she might have stopped to wonder why it was taking them so long to completely pull her off Charlie. It was only when she focused on a familiar voice that she understood someone else was slowing everyone else down.
“Stop. Stop! Don’t hurt her,” Claire was exclaiming as she made her way through the crowd. “Let me take her. Stop it. I’ve got her. I’ve got her! Kate.”
Her name was accompanied by the feeling of Claire’s arms on her. It was hard to let go of Charlie. God, it was hard to give up the fight. But so many times before Kate had told herself that the priority always had to be Claire. And if Claire was right there, Kate couldn’t do anything to hurt her, she couldn’t keep fighting people off and throwing punches and kicks blindly. She had to let Claire pull her up and away from Charlie.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Claire said in that tone of hers that somehow, and just barely, managed to summon surprising authority. She might have said other things, mumbled instructions, a final warning to Charlie, or a favor to Sun, but Kate couldn’t focus on it. Claire finished with, “Give us some space, please.”
That “us” was the only thing that mattered to Kate. That, and the fact that Claire, with an arm wrapped around Kate’s waist, was leading them to Kate’s tent, not her own.
Claire, as if she could read her mind, casually told her, “Your tent is much more private than mine. Especially now.” And as soon as they made it there and stepped inside, she sighed contentedly, as if they hadn’t just walked away from a violent altercation. “Okay, let’s sit,” Claire said.
Kate instantly felt at home, even in that small space, even if it was still just a rudimentary tent. As the adrenaline and tension started leaving her body, she felt instantly exhausted, and let herself fall down on the sand next to her makeshift bed. She looked up when she heard Claire’s sweet and soft laugh.
“Sure, I’ll take the bed,” Claire said as she settled down on the bed, facing Kate, staring at her so attentively, so intensely, and quiet for almost long enough to make it awkward. Finally, she said, “Thank you, Kate.”
Although Kate’s heart skipped a beat when she heard those words in the sweetest tone she’d ever heard, the message itself didn’t quite feel right to her. It didn’t land comfortably in her chest. She had to look away from Claire’s bright blue eyes. So, Kate lowered her head and stared at the sand as she drew mindless shapes on it with her left hand.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.
“Sorry?”
But Kate couldn’t exactly elaborate on that statement, not honestly, at least. She couldn’t figure out how to explain to Claire that she was sorry she hadn’t been faster in intervening, and she was sorry she hadn’t done worse to Charlie, and she was sorry she even wanted to do so much, and sorry that she was worried this was a pattern, or a bad habit of hers.
In the end, Kate forced herself to look up at Claire and just say, “I’m sorry he keeps bothering you, that’s all.”
“Oh, well,” Claire went on cheerfully, “I’m not sure he will again, after that lesson you gave him.” That compliment was much easier to accept, the idea that she at least was able to make a change and improve Claire’s situation in some way was everything Kate had been fighting for. That delight distracted her, made it possible for Claire to catch her with her walls down and to grab Kate’s chin with her gentle fingers. “Now, what’s this?” she asked, turning Kate’s face to the side a little.
“What?” Kate wondered.
“You’ve got a scratch.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Kate,” Claire insisted
She leaned over to reach for a bottle of water and some cloth among the things Kate kept beside her bed. The water was never missing, and the cloth was the type that she used to tie her hair.
“It’s nothing,” Kate protested.
She raised a hand to brush away the sand on the side of her face, but that, of course, made the coarse sand brush the scratch on her skin, making her instantly hiss in pain.
“Hey! Stop that,” Claire said, batting Kate’s hand away.
“Really, I’ve got it,” Kate said, trying again to brush away the sand, only for Claire to catch her hand in the act.
“Let me help you!”
“You don’t have to!”
“But I will,” Claire said, slowly letting go of Kate’s hand so she could open the water bottle. Kate started at Claire’s hands working until she added, “I want to.”
“Why?” Kate asked her.
Judging by Claire's smirk, she wasn’t successful at all in making her question sound serious instead of frustrated and on the verge of petulant.
“If I don’t, you’ll go to Jack,” Claire answered casually. “And I want you to stay with me a little longer.”
It endlessly fascinated Kate that Claire was able to say that with a perfectly cheery tone, as if it didn’t provide Kate with about a dozen different layers to overanalyze. Starting with the fact that she plainly said she wanted Kate to spend more time with her. But also, bringing up Jack in the first place. Was that putting Jack and Claire herself in the same category of something. As if they were in competition for something. As if what Kate could offer Jack, and what people would assume when they looked at her and Jack together, could somehow be applied to her and Claire, too. It had crossed her mind, obviously, and with far less mental gymnastics. But all the detours in her thought process were necessary to convince herself that there was a chance Claire could be thinking about it too.
The most interesting thing, perhaps, was the fact that that train of thought had paralyzed Kate long enough for Claire to get started on cleaning up the scratch on the side of her face. And that, judging by the little smile she couldn’t really hide, there was a chance that this had been Claire’s intention all along.
While Kate had been lost in thought, Claire gently wiped away the sand clinging to Kate’s skin. When she was satisfied with that, she proceeded to gently dab the red scratches on her cheek with the wet cloth. There wasn’t much blood, so she could’ve been done very fast. Claire, however, seemed to be happy to take her time. She cradled Kate’s face in place with her other hand. She worked slowly and carefully, with a gentleness that Kate didn’t even know what to compare to.
When she noticed Kate’s eyes staring at her again, and maybe also sensed her intention to flee or protest again, Claire continued talking.
“You’re very good to me, Kate,” she said. “I want to take care of you for a bit, too.”
Those words made Kate close her eyes and almost wish that Claire hadn’t said anything at all. It was mortifying to her, the thought that Claire would have to take care of her, on top of everything else, in addition to everything she had endured already. It didn’t make sense to her. But the thought of denying Claire of something, anything, especially this that she asked so quietly and carefully, it was just as troubling.
“You don’t have to, Claire,” Kate sighed, giving up on her attempts to find a better argument.
Again, Claire effortlessly destroyed Kate’s protest. This time, with a very simple act. Taking advantage of Kate’s closed eyes and rare stillness, she leaned in and kissed the top of Kate’s head. She was lucky Kate took a second to process it to snap her head up, or else she would’ve gotten knocked in the face by Kate’s forehead.
“There,” Claire said a little too proudly. Her hand dropped the piece of cloth on her lap, but then quickly returned to Kate’s face, this time cradling her jaw, and Kate was quite grateful for it. It prevented her from flinching away when Claire, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, leaned in again, and this time kissed Kate’s forehead. This was shortly followed by a kiss to her temple. She was barely pulling back, nearly brushing her lips down the side of Kate’s brushed cheekbone just to plan another kiss, slightly more firmly, on Kate’s cheek, maddeningly close to her lips.
Claire peppering her face with kisses was something that Kate was decidedly not prepared to deal with, especially not that day, given the dramatic change of pace from the altercation at the beach. She was speechless, so much so that she didn’t mind embracing it, giving up, accepting that there was nothing she could say. But when it came to actions, she was content to just keep staring at Claire and, this time, give her a smile of her own.
“Great, now give me your hand,” Claire said and extended her own hand expectantly.
Kate frowned at her, glanced down at her bruised knuckles, and back up at Claire, knowing she would be able to read her objection in her eyes.
However, Claire just flexed her fingers impatiently and said, “Come on.” When Kate inevitably yielded and placed her hand on Claire’s, the younger girl hissed at the sight of the bruises. “Oh! You were really mad, huh?” she said.
“No, I was just—”
Kate couldn’t exactly finish her sentence. And this time, it wasn’t exactly something new or purposeful that Claire was doing. It was just the sight of Claire’s hand in hers, Claire’s thumb resting just where a little blood had dripped down Kate’s knuckles. She wished, and refused to look too closely at the thought, that it was her blood, from her split knuckles, and not Charlie’s.
“He had it coming,” Kate finally said, happy to leave it at that.
Thankfully, this time Claire let her get away with it. She only hummed in response and got to work again. The water bottle. The piece of cloth. Gently dabbing at Kate’s skin. Humming a little as she worked. Occasionally looking up to catch Kate staring at her. All in perfectly comfortable silence.
“Good as new,” Claire announced as soon as she was done.
Kate could admit to herself that she wasn’t in a hurry to let go of Claire’s hand, and she could almost accept that she should’ve seen Claire’s next move coming and still didn’t do anything to avoid it. Either way, she still felt her heart skip a beat when she saw Claire lift their intertwined hands so she could carefully kiss Kate’s knuckles. She was so tender that Kate couldn’t say an ounce of pain registered at the feather-light pressure on her split knuckles, the ones she’d bruised and bloodied for Claire just minutes ago, just as she would be willing to do a thousand times more.
“Claire,” Kate sighed her name and nothing more, at a loss for what else she could possibly say or do, feeling defeated in the most marvelous way possible.
In response, Claire’s smile softened. Kate would’ve killed for a glimpse at her thought process during this entire moment in her tent, but whatever conclusion Claire had reached, Kate already loved it.
Claire let go of her hand, and Kate was definitely embarrassed by the brief surge of panic and loss. But then, in a gesture that she found so adorable she considered it could maybe bring her to tears in other circumstances, Claire opened her arms for her.
“Come here,” she said, back in her animated tone that lowered Kate’s defenses instantly. As soon as Kate fell into her arms, holding on to her in a tight hug, Claire whispered to her, “Thank you, Kate.”