Disclaimer: Lost is not mine. Neither is Kate. And while I'm at it, I don't own the horse either. Though its name is my own.

A/N: Just a little ficlet that I wrote last night...I started wondering about how Kate knew the horse and this is what I came up with. As always, criticism is very much welcome. Let me know what you think.

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The beach was silent but for the quiet crackling of the fires interspersed between the numerous tents, and the gentle lull of the waves lapping against the beach. The trees whispered to each other, hiding their secrets in the darkness.

Kate couldn't sleep. She was desperately tired and craved rest, but every time she closed her eyes she saw Wayne's drunken face, her step-father, the look of disappointment on her mother's face as she realised that her only daughter was running away for the last time. And she felt it. She felt the impact of the house exploding behind her, as she revved up the engine of the bike she stole from the garage down the road.

Sighing, she pulled on a sweatshirt over her t-shirt and, taking a torch from the nearest fire, began making her way through the jungle to the hatch. She moved slowly, not scared, but wary of her surroundings, not wanting to advertise herself to The Others. Hearing the snap of a twig behind her, she froze. Looking over her shoulder, she saw nothing, and carried on walking, as quietly as she could, putting the noise down to paranoia. She dismissed this theory, though, as she heard the rustle of footsteps on fallen leaves.

Staying silent, she hid behind a tree, waiting for the creature to come closer. Warily, she fingered the gun in her back pocket as she heard the leaves crunch at a much closer proximity this time. Closing her eyes, she prayed that it was someone from the camp, before stepping out from the tree and aiming her weapon.

She gasped.

In front of her stood the horse, his coat glossy and healthy. Slipping the gun back into her jeans, she moved closer, and finding the remains of a pack of Polos in her pocket, she offered one on the flat of her hand. The horse whickered and lowered his black head to her palm, noisily crunching the mint.

Kate smiled, and stroked his mane, leaning into him.

'It's good to see you again,' she whispered, and he shook his head in response.

Her eyes drifting shut, Kate remembered back to a time when she was innocent, untouched by the cruelties of the world. She used to love riding, and had finally persuaded her mother to let her have lessons. Before long, Kate had formed a firm friendship with her horse at the stables, and sometimes believed he could read her thoughts, he was so in tune with what she wanted him to do. His name was Beau Noir, and she exhausted what seemed like every waking hour riding him, grooming him, mucking out his stable. She spent increasingly more time at the stables as she grew older, when Wayne entered her life. Riding was her escape, her freedom, and she would often canter across the fields, alone, returning only when the sun disappeared from the sky.

And then it happened. It was winter, and the ground was icy. Kate insisted on riding Beau, despite her instructor's warnings not to. But then she'd always been a rebel. Nothing was going to prevent her from riding, not when she was so upset. She had worked him too hard, Kate realised, reflecting. It wasn't long before a storm started brewing, and as the sky darkened, they began to turn back. Beau was tired from the hard gallop and when the rain fell, he was as good as blinded. Kate had guided him slowly through what was fast becoming a marshland, but she hadn't counted on getting lost.

Finding herself in unfamiliar territory, Kate whispered reassurances to her horse, riding him carefully through the rain. Without warning, Beau stepped on a patch of ice, and his front leg slipped from underneath him. Kate was thrown from his back as the beautiful creature fell to the ground, his leg crushed beneath him. She had been rendered unconscious by the fall, and when she woke, the sky had cleared and she could see where they were. Somehow they were only a mile or so from the stables. She looked around, trying to remember what had happened, when her eyes fell on Beau. It all came back to her in a rush, the storm, the ice, the fall.

Crawling to the animal, Kate began to cry, as she saw how he had landed. Stroking his mane, she whispered to him desperately, wishing for him to open his eyes, stand up. He was all that she had left in the world to trust, he couldn't leave her now. Not now. Tears staining his matted coat, she leaned into his still warm body, and rested her head against him. Shivering, she pulled her jacket closer around her, letting herself become oblivious to the world. She woke up in hospital that evening, suffering from mild hypothermia. Beau was dead. She was wracked with guilt, knowing that his death was her fault. She never set foot in the stables again, the memories too painful to remember. She had lost faith in herself, never truly accepting that he was gone.

And now here he was. Here they were. Kate smiled; brushing tears she hadn't realised were there from her face.

'Come on, Beau. I think it's time you got introduced.'

Leading him to a nearby tree stump, Kate pulled herself onto his back. She had often ridden him bareback, and it felt so good to be back in the one place that she knew she belonged. Kicking her heels gently, she moved him to a trot, riding him back to the beach. The sun had nearly risen, and she smiled as she rode along the sand, the smile meeting her eyes for the first time in years.

The sunlight warmed her skin, and as she looked out to sea, and then to the camp, Kate knew that she'd be able to survive at least one more day.