Me: I'm stuck on page two of a fic I'm writing. Can you
think of any reason Sawyer and Kate (and only the two of them) would go off
into the jungle?
Mom: The only way you'd be able to pull that off is if they
were looking for Jack because Jack was gone... Because he was lost
For someone
who hated those fuzzy grey areas, Sawyer sure as Hell found himself in them far
too often. White and black. Good and bad. Things were easier when reduced to
terms like that. That especially applied to him. As he could hardly lump
himself into the 'good' category, he sort of liked everyone thinking of him as
the island's bad boy.
Of course,
it was pretty hard to get everyone else to think of him like that, after all
that had happened. He had tried his best, even allowed himself to be beaten up
by the best to that end. But people still used words like 'hero' and 'nice guy'
when they were talking about him, and it was starting to get to him. Kate,
especially, was getting a bit too touchy-feely with him. Not that he minded the
touching part much. But after nursing him through his injury and fever, she
didn't seem capable of that fire she'd once had in her when dealing with him.
Kate. Now
she was a perfect example. He wanted to get her in the sack, of course, but it
was so much easier to be with her when she just hated him and he just shot lewd
innuendos her way. Now they were stuck somewhere in-between hatred and love, in
some sort of screwed-up relationship where they had to respect each other and
care about each other and all other sorts of crap.
When she
had come to him the day before, needing him to come along with her, he'd almost
been inclined to refuse, just to see her snap at him. But suddenly he found
himself changing his shirt, grabbing some water and granola bars, and following
her into the jungle. Jack was missing, and no one knew where he'd gone. People
paired up to scour the island, and Kate wanted Sawyer along. He had no idea why
they were doing this or what he was doing there, except that he knew all of it
lay in that uncomfortable and unintelligible grey portion again.
So when he
woke after a half a night of rest to find his head heavy, throat on fire, and
nose throbbing with congestion, he was actually glad about it. The cold hadn't
taken its time and played with him. It hadn't come about gradually so he was
left to doubt if he was actually getting sick or not. One minute he was fine
and the next he was most definitely sick. White and black, just as he liked it.
Easy to understand and easy to deal with.
Easy, that
is, if they'd been back at camp and he had access to the medicines. He'd gone
through most of the bottles of Nyquil and the like for their meager alcohol
contents, but there were loads of pills he could use to take the edge off. Out
here, in the middle of nowhere, he'd just have to rely on strength of will. He
was sure that would be enough, though. After being shot, nearly drowning, and
nearly dying, how bad could one cold possibly be? He was sure he could handle
it on his own.
*
Flashback- Two Years Ago
"Note to
self," Sawyer said, unclenching his hand and reaching for the box of
industrial-strength tissues on top of the toilet tank. Crushed glass and dye
spilled out into the trash can, along with a small bit of blood. "Crappy
Wal-Mart thermometers break way too easily." He ran the cold water over his
hand and mopped it with the tissues until it stopped bleeding.
Then he
pulled out more tissues and hung his head, pressing them to his face. His long, dirty-blond hair swung against his
ears and he closed his eyes. "huhhShooo!
hahhChoo! Harshuhhhh! Hahh..." The fit stopped halfway through a sneeze. Tentatively,
he opened his eyes and caught sight of himself in the motel room mirror. He
couldn't imagine a more pathetic sight if he tried. "What the Hell are you
looking... at?" He asked his reflection, just before his eyes shut again. "IhhhSchoo! KahChoo! Huhshooo! Choo!"
After an
appallingly messy, snuffly blow and wipe, he dropped the tissues into the waste
basket. Then he grabbed the tissue box and made a beeline for the bed. He
wrapped up in the blankets and curled up in the bed. He shivered a little but
fatigue was stronger than all other discomforts and he was more than happy to
give into it.
He wasn't
going to get any work done until he fought off this cold. He had a mark picked
out, and had even made first contact. It would actually be pretty convenient to
call her up and use the sick patient card to gain her sympathies. A little
Florence Nightingaleing and she'd be all ready to fork over any amount of money
he had in mind.
But Sawyer
wasn't inclined to use that strategy. He didn't want anyone seeing him like
this for any reason. "HAHSHOO!" He
sneezed freely, uncaringly, and shivered again. All he had to do was wait it
out. The fever and congestion would pass. And then he could get back to his
miserable life.
*
Bone tired,
Sawyer trudged along behind Kate. He was stiff from sleeping directly on the
ground, missing the comforts of the bed in the hatch and the gentle give of the
sand. But he also ached everywhere, and the last thing his body wanted was for
him to wake at dawn and immediately start walking. He wanted to find Jack just so
that this would be over, but if they did he'd definitely give the man a piece
of his mind for putting him through this.
The jungle
always made him a bit uneasy, not that those feelings were completely
unfounded. In the jungle, people were kidnapped, shot, eaten, killed. On a good
day, he didn't like being there. But he certainly did not like being there when
he felt like shit.
Walking
behind, she did not see him rubbing his nose and pinching the bridge to drive
off sneezes. She did not see him wince whenever he swallowed. But she did hear
when he pressed her to take another break.
They took
very few breaks, with Kate constantly pushing them onward. She glared back at
him when he hung back a little, and again he questioned why the Hell he'd gone
along. This wasn't exactly the sort of quality time with her he'd have liked to
be spending. Though, right now, he had absolutely no interest in her whatsoever
and just wanted this to be over with. Even the rather alluring sight of her from
behind was no comfort.
The morning
felt longer than most, like it would never end. The sun stayed hidden behind
clouds and the sky above the treetops was a dusty grey. Sawyer hated grey.
Finally,
they stopped for an official lunch break. Sawyer leaned against a tree, trying
to catch his breath. With his hands on his thighs, he doubled over and coughed.
He straightened back up and sighed. He pulled a bottle of water out of his bag
and gulped some down. There was a mix of good and bad, with the cool water
feeling soothing but the pain of swallowing feeling intense.
For the
last hour or two he'd been trying to come up with some way to rationalize
turning around and going back. He could think of only one thing to say to make
them turn around, one thing that just so happened to be completely true, but he
did not want to use it as an excuse. In fact, he did not want her to know how
rotten he felt, to begin with. Even though his head was throbbing and throat
was raw, his body was aching and his nose was full, the last thing he wanted
was Kate going all nursemaid on him again.
"hahr-CHISHHHH!" The sudden, harsh sneeze
snapped him forward. He sniffed powerfully, looking over at Kate. "Don't I get
a Gesundheit?"
"Don't you
know how to cover your nose?"
Kate-one,
Sawyer-zero. And it stayed that way, because Sawyer was in absolutely no
position to reply with any sort of remark, witty or otherwise. "hahhhh-Choo! harrShooo! Hahh-hahhhhChoo!
H'Shooo! HuhShooo!" He sniffed liquidly, wincing again, then the fit of
sneezing finished up. "hehhhKShooo! Harshooo!
Hahh-ahhh-Kutchoo!" Sawyer lifted his hand and rubbed the side and then
back of it to his nose.
Naturally, Kate
was staring at him. "What was that?"
Sawyer
sniffed again, making sure his answer would be clear. "Nothing," he replied. "Let's
keep moving."
"We just
stopped," she said. "You were complaining and said that you wanted--"
"We're not
going to find the doc just standing around. Either head back or keep going." He
knew she'd want to keep going, so it wasn't exactly a choice. But she did give
him an annoyed look before she resumed walking.
About a
half an hour later, they came upon something that made them both stop dead in
their tracks. It was a small bit of blue fabric impaled on a branch jetting out
from a falling log. "Jack has a shirt this color," Kate said. She picked up the
swatch, rubbing it between her fingers as though the touch of it would trigger
a memory with some sort of confirmation of that fact.
"And
you'd..." He pinched his nose and felt his head spinning. "You'd know, of
course." The truth was, it could have been left by anyone days, weeks, even
years before. Or it could have been planted by one of the others to throw them
off the right trail.
But it was
the strongest thing they had to go on, so they had to go on. To anyone else, it
might have appeared that they were just walking through the jungle without direction.
But Kate, and Sawyer to a lesser extent, were well aware that they were
following some sort of trail. Every so often they found branches and sticks
broken, as though they'd been stepped on or pushed past. They found foliage
disturbed and muddy, nondescript tracks. Now, whether the trail belonged to
Jack or to a wild boar was anyone's guess.
The rustling
sounds of the brush they were making their way through covered soft sniffs and
coughs and his occasional clearings of his throat. But it did not cover
everything, and Sawyer could not hide everything all the time.
"har-EHHShhooo!" He practically jumped in
place, coming to a halt and whipping his hand up to his nose afterwards. He
gave a muffled sniff and opened his eyes to see Kate staring him down. He
sniffed again. "What d'ya want now?" he snapped.
"Are you
sick?" She cocked her head as though closer inspection would tell her. The few
loose strands of brown hair she hadn't pulled back framed her face beautifully.
"I'm fine,"
he replied gruffly. "Least as fine as I can be traipsing through the jungle
when I could be lounging on a tropical beach."
She wasn't
stopped by his reply. "I think you're getting sick..."
He felt his
nose tickle and tensed up. A few rubs of his knuckles under his nose did swift
work on the urge to sneeze. "Keep a lid on it Freckles. You've only got so much
worry in you and right now you need it all for the doctor." He pushed past her.
"I'm fine." But the moment he was past, he pinched his nose.
The tickle
was stronger than usual and made him stop after only a few steps. He was thrown
forward and stayed hunched over for the rest of the sneezes. "huhhShooo! HahhhChoo! Harushhhh! H'KShooo!
hehhhShooo! Hehhh... hehhh-IHchoooo!"
There was a
comforting hand on his back and those beautiful, soft eyes staring at him from
his right side. "I worry about you, too," she said. "Why do you think I wanted
you along?"
"Because I
apparently haven't had enough 'walking through the deadly jungle' experiences?"
He rubbed at his nose some more.
"Because I
wanted to keep an eye on you," she said sweetly.
"Yeah...
well..." He pulled away from her with a cough and sneezed openly again. "hahh-Shhoo! Sniff! Wish you'd cut it out." The last thing he wanted, when he
was feeling like death warmed over, was to be watched by anyone.
Least of
all Kate. The hand was back, giving his back a rub, and then reaching to his
forehead. "You're burning up."
"I'm fine."
"Yeah, like
I'm going to believe that? Sit down."
"What?"
She put her
hands on his shoulders and forced him to sit. "Sit down. We're resting for a
few minutes." She sat against a tree and sighed. With an accusatory look, "Why
didn't you tell me you were sick before we left? You should have told me you
didn't want to go."
Sawyer
didn't even know where to start with this one. "Not sure if you remember, but I
didn't exactly jump at the chance to go on this little adventure of yours."
*
Flashback- Previous Day
"So what's
all this commotion?" Sawyer asked, as though he had had his nose stuck in a
book the whole day and not heard a word about anything. The truth was, he was
aware of everything and just wanted an excuse to strike up a conversation with
Kate. He sat back against a tree, glasses on, book in hand.
Kate looked
impatient at his stalling technique. "Jack's missing. No one's seen him all
day. We're all going out looking for him."
"Great,"
replied Sawyer, his eyes returning to the book. "Let me know what you find."
Or, better yet, don't.
"Sawyer!"
she said, a note of desperation and impatience in her voice. "He's lost!"
He shrugged
coldly. "We're all lost. Besides, how far could he go on a tiny little island
like this?" Sawyer didn't really believe that. There were all sorts of things
that could have gone wrong and places Jack could have gone. But it sounded like
a good sort of statement to reply with and it was sure to get a rise out of
Kate.
Predictably,
Kate squatted down and pushed the book he was reading down, away from his face.
He sighed,
gritting his teeth. He'd had enough of the hero routine and just wanted to live
and let live. "You want something, Freckles?"
"You."
He raised
an eyebrow.
"I want you
to come with me into the jungle to look for him."
Let's see...
head into the deadly jungle looking for good ole Jack or sit by a tree and
finish his book? "Tempting offer, but no thanks."
"I need you
help me track him."
"If it's
tracking you want, Locke--"
"Locke's
pushing the button."
"Someone
needs to stay behind in case the doc comes back. I'd be happy to--"
"Claire's
staying. You're coming with me." She threw a backpack at him, hitting him in
the face and chest at the same time. "Now."
*
"Okay,"
Kate relented. "But why didn't you just tell me you were sick?"
"hahhh..." Sawyer gritted his teeth and
grimaced. He pinched his nose, but that was beginning to become the most
useless action ever. "hahh-Shoo! h'Choo!
hahh...AHShoo!" He sniffed wetly, miserably, and grimaced again. He didn't
have anything he could rub his nose with, except his hand. Why would he have
thought to pack tissues or a handkerchief for this trek?
"And don't
tell me you're fine, because I don't believe that any more."
Sniffling, Sawyer
didn't care. He just wanted to blow his nose. "Didn't know I'd be getting sick
when we left. This delightful situation just came on all of a sudden this
morning." He cleared his throat and sniffed again. "Ain't I lucky?"
Kate swung
her backpack off and rooted through it. It wasn't a pack of tissues or a
handkerchief, but a bandana was almost as good. She handed it over and Sawyer
gratefully blew his nose, hating the sound of it. He didn't thank her, and he
doubted she expected him to.
He sighed
and crumpled it into his hand. Then he started to stand back up again. "Where do
you think you're going?" she asked.
"Call me
crazy, but aren't we out here to find Jack? Or are you now just hoping he'll
stumble our way?"
She stayed
put, on the ground, but she stretched her leg out and tapped his boot with the
toe of hers. "Sit down, Sawyer."
He sat,
turned, and coughed heavily into a fist. He could tell she was torn. And
worried. But he hated this indecision. Sure he'd wanted a few more breaks, but he
also wanted to get back some time this week. "hahhhSHOO!" His whole body shook weakly. When he opened his eyes,
she was hovering over him, easing him down onto his side, his head on her
backpack. "Leave me alone. I'm not a damn invalid," he barked.
"Let's hope
not. I've had enough spoon-feeding you to last me a lifetime." She felt his
forehead again, and didn't look happy about it. She looked around, as though
hoping for something that might tell her what to do.
"You
lookin' around for that horse, Freckles?" he asked, rubbing his nose with the
bandana again. She didn't answer, and he laughed. "And here I thought I was the
one with the fever."
She shook
her head. "We'll just have to rest here until you get better," she declared. "I
don't want you getting worse."
He didn't
even get a choice in the matter? It didn't seem fair. Annoyed, "Now wait just a
minute--"
"You're
just getting over a fever, Sawyer. I don't want you getting that bad again. I
don't want to lose you." Apparently she thought she could convince him by being
sweet and touching his face. She was a tough girl, a fugitive, but her touch
was so gentle. And, oh, the way she stroked his cheek. And that tender kiss to
his forehead...
Okay, maybe
she was a little convincing. It sure as Hell felt great to be lying down again.
Kate-two, Sawyer-zilch. And as soon as he was convinced, he'd back off again.
She was always doing this to him, running him hot and cold. Except right now he
didn't really care so long as she kept petting his head that way.
"Just a
little rest, then," he whispered, giving in. He coughed and buried his face in
the bandana. "hahhh..." Even though he
pinched his nose through its folds, the urge to sneeze was just as intense as
if he'd been doing nothing. He just wished it'd just be one sneeze this time...
and wished she wasn't there to see it. "hahhh-Choo!
K'Shoo! hehhhShoo! Hahh-huhhShuhhh! Hutchooo!" He didn't even bother to
open his eyes back up after the sneezes. The way the sneezes had shaken him
made his whole body ache.
His head
felt heavy and... those fingers were still stroking his cheek... "Kate," he
whispered, then stopped. He wanted to push her away, but didn't. He wanted to
tell her off, but didn't. He wanted to grab her a fuck her right there, but
couldn't. He was lost in that grey area, not knowing what to do around her any
more. He yawned, and coughed.
She shook
her head and crawled around, sitting down behind him. Her legs pressed against
his back, letting him know she was there. She petted the side of his face,
pulling his hair back behind an ear. "Shhhh. Don't fight it."
Sawyer felt
his body sink heavily into nothingness, his head spinning. He was certain he
fell asleep, but wasn't sure for how long. He woke to some uncomfortable sensation
he could not pinpoint.
He opened
his eyes, looking around. "Still on the island?" Expecting to hear her laugher,
Sawyer felt a wave of panic come over him when it did not follow. He sat up,
suddenly worried about being left alone in the middle of nowhere as he hadn't
really been paying attention to the way they'd been walking. He wasn't exactly
lost, but it would certainly take him twice as long to get back on his own.
Especially sick.
But he
spotted her a few yards away, heading towards him. "It's raining," she informed
him, a measure of alarm in her voice.
It took
Sawyer a moment to verify this. It wasn't raining yet, but it was sprinkling
and they knew how fast things went from dry to downpour in the jungle. They
also knew what usually happened when it rained in the jungle.
Sawyer
scrambled to his feet and immediately felt dizzy. He wobbled in place, grateful
that she grabbed him and, with a grunt held him up. They both heard whispering,
and, instinctively, looked all around as though hoping to see the source of it.
Sawyer pulled away from her. "Go," he said. "Get out of here." She stood there,
dumbly. "What are you doing?" He asked, his voice rough and angry. "Run!"
"Don't try
to be a hero," she said, grabbing a fistful of his olive green t-shirt. "I'm
not leaving you behind."
Sawyer
clenched his teeth and tried to gather his strength. If she got caught now, it
would be his fault. They could stand there all day trading and get captured by
Others or get smothered by wisps of black smoke, or they could run. And,
whatever else, he didn't want to be a hero.
So they
took off, not the way they'd come but towards the coast. The whispering grew
louder, surrounding them on all sides. The water rained down in buckets,
soaking them and making the ground slick and slightly muddy. Sawyer felt awful,
every bit of his body aching, but he could still run for his life. Even with a
stitch in his side.
As before,
Kate took the lead at first, though they split up a little as they rain through
the difficult terrain. Around trees, shrubs, rocks, Sawyer felt them whip past
him, scraping his arms and legs. He concentrated on putting one foot in front
of the other and not running into any trees. Out of the corner of his eye,
Sawyer saw a flash of something black. It wasn't a smoke monster, but a gun,
and it was in Kate's grasp.
They ran
out onto a beach just as the rain was dying back down again. They wheeled
around, scanning the treeline. But the mysterious danger was no longer pursing
them.
Relieved
that they had both made it through all right, Sawyer doubled over and tried to
catch his breath. He felt Kate's hand on his back and moved away from it. "I
don't... need..." He stopped, gasping for breath. His lungs hurt and the dizziness
was back.
"Come on,
Sawyer," she sighed with frustration. "Drop the act. I already know you're
sick."
"Maybe
that's who I am? Maybe I just like being an ass?" he suggested. Maybe it was
easier than trying to figure out where the Hell the two of them stood. He
straightened up to stare her down. But, with the sniffles and coughs, he wasn't
being all that intimidating.
"I don't
think so," she said, shaking her head. She moved in closer. Then, in a second,
she was kissing him.
His body
reacted before he could wrap his somewhat fuzzy mind around it. He kissed back
eagerly, strongly, desperately. Until he had to quickly pull away and turn his
head. "hahhh-CHUHH!" He pressed the
back of his hand to his nose and gave a huge sniff. "So what was that for?" he
asked, still feeling her kiss on his lips... or maybe that was just the fever
making his whole body tingle. Either way, he felt good. "Tryin' to kiss me and
make me all better?"
Kate licked
her lips and chuckled as she shook her head. "No... I just thought it might be a
good way to get you to shut up for a few seconds."
Kate-three,
Sawyer-still a big fat nothing.
"hehh-Chah! Hahh-Shoo! hahh-K'Shoo!" He
shivered and dug his handkerchief out of his pocket, where he'd put it before
falling asleep. Like the rest of him, it was damp from the rain and pretty well
useless. "hehhh... ehhh-Choo! hehhShooo!"
He rubbed it at his nose anyway and blew. It didn't sound any better than
usual. "Damn cold," he muttered miserably.
Kate
stepped forward and cocked her head. She touched his cheek again, fingers
grazing over the rough stubble and lingering near the corner of his mouth. She
kissed him again, hesitantly, and his mouth twitched into a momentary smile. "How
do you catch a cold in the middle of the jungle anyway?" Kate asked when she'd
pulled away.
He
chuckled, which scratched his throat and made him cough. "Keep kissing me like
that and you'll find out." She smiled back, looking like she was holding back
laughter, because the amusement was playing in her eyes.
Kate-three,
Sawyer-one? Did that count as one? He shrugged off his count. It didn't matter
anyway. All that mattered was...
"I think we
should head straight back," she said.
She'd
started out all doom and gloom with Jack lost and probably in terrible peril,
and now she was proposing giving up the search altogether? "You sure 'bout
that?"
She paused,
looking at his drenched and sniffling appearance, then nodded. "Who knows?
Maybe he's been found already, right?"
"Yeah," he
agreed. Someone else would have to be the hero this time. That was probably
better for his image anyway. "But if he is, I'd rather he not be told about
this." Sawyer rubbed his forehead.
"The
kissing?" she asked, almost uncomfortably.
Smirking,
he replied, "The cold." He sniffed. "It's bad enough you seein' me like this."
"He's seen
you worse," Kate reminded him. "We all have."
"Yeah..." he
agreed again, rubbing the back of his neck this time. "Thanks so much for
reminding me. Can we head back now?"
She nodded
and started down the beach, apparently not quite ready to head back into the
jungle. Sawyer was glad about that. Jungle- bad. Not getting killed right now-
good. Heading back to their beach and his tent- very good. He glanced over at
Kate, who looked more determined than worried. He grinned at the remembrance of
the kisses. He wasn't sure if they were good or bad, but he was pretty sure they
were one or the other and not in the grey. Maybe by the time he was back in his
tent, curled up in his blanket with actual tissues at hand, he'd have it
figured out.