Thank you soooo much to Teenage.Anomaly and Katty Noir who have reviewed my story. Really appreicate it guys, I hope this story won't disappoint in the end :)

--

The flicker of the flames reflected inside her eyes, the warmth was strong against the harsh winds that battered and thrashed the woods, but still she was freezing cold. Her ivory-white slim hands trembled and the rest of her body followed likewise. The face read nothing but silent disorientation. After tossing on a few more broken dry shrubs, her hard-earned fire was put into motion.

“You warm enough?” A familiar dead beat voice erupted from behind; Chelsea didn’t even need to turn to know who ‘Mr. Fix It’ was. Her tone quietened, her voice grew considerably smaller and she put all thoughts aside for now when she smiled – or lied, take your pick – to his face. “That’s a nice fire,” Jack encouraged.

“Well, don’t give me all the credit,” she said thinly after finding nothing else to say in response. “I didn’t do it myself.” Jack nodded and Chelsea mentally begged him not to sit down next to her as he approached. “Yeah, I was just thinking about turning in.” Jack stopped in his tracks and he looked a little stumped. It was merely a precaution in case he felt like trying to join her in friendly conversation she’d rather avoid.

“Yeah, me too. There’s nothing better than a good night’s sleep.” Chelsea raised her eyebrows at him and nodded in strong agreement. Jack gave her one last coy smile before returning back to his own campfire group.

The winds picked up coarsely and for a minute there, it seemed as if her fire was in danger of dying out. Chelsea moved and tried to put it in a position where it could get more fuel but in a swift instant, the fire was put out. A low hissing and a small wave of smoke didn’t come too far behind.

“…Whoops,” the Southern man hollered, a bottle of opened water still dangling above her head. Chelsea, having glanced up to find him grinning and steering the water in a pendulum-like swing, smacked the bottle so it flew afar and the liquid spilled all down Sawyer’s front. He bit his tongue from releasing his dissatisfaction and instead focused on hers. “It was an accident, I swear,” he laughed.

“Don’t you have some poor defenceless animal to ravage?” she asked, exhausted.

“It looks like you’re top of my list then, misery.” He collapsed onto the sand next to her and outstretched his jean-clad legs over her lap. Chelsea stared at him in quiet contempt and he could not wipe the grin from his face.

“Cosy?” He continued to smile, it was like he was just waiting for something to happen. What did he expect of her with that cheesy expression glued to his lips? “Why did you kill my fire?” she eventually asked, very squarely.

“I, uh… thought I’d just put it out of its misery.”

Chelsea scoffed and faced him. “I get it… you’re just pissed because I ripped you of your smokes.” She offered him a crude smile and took a packet out of her jersey pocket, throwing it at his broad chest. “Here, you can fucking have them back. They make me sick anyways.”

“This has nothing to do with the damn smokes,” he said clearly, his tone darkening and becoming less enthused. Sawyer threw the smokes right back at her. “You know that.”

“Then what?” her voice barely above a whisper.

Sawyer leaned into her face closer and she was surprised to see it was drained of all ironic humour now, nothing but dead seriousness left. “You hurt people. People… I don’t want to see get hurt, because they’re a bad enough wreck already without you coming in and blocking out the sunshine.”

“… Are you calling me fat?” she answered. Not a thought in her head, no snide remark, nothing.

After narrowing his eyes, Sawyer spoke again after a long harsh silence, only gentle unrecognizable whispers mended into the air. “Just cut the sarcasm for one minute and stop trying to avoid the truth. I reckon you can’t face up to your feelings… because you have no idea what they are. You don’t feel anything, misery.”

“Take that back,” she spat.

“I would if it wasn’t true.”

“Which it is not.” Sawyer chuckled under his breath and reached into his pants for another cigarette. He ignores her strength to break her down; he’s only interested in her pain. “You don’t know me… you strut out here, thinking you do but… you don’t.”

“But I do know you, misery. Better than you do anyway.”

“Y’know what? Just fuck off,” she said, turning away from him. Sawyer smiled after lightly touching a nerve. What he needed to find out now was how he could pinch it.

“Why, can’t you handle the truth? Is there something that you can’t stand, waking up to in reality?”

“Oh, that’s rich!” she cried. “What the fuck does someone like you know about reality, Sawyer? You take the same escape routes as me.”

“Mine don’t send me knocking on heaven’s door, sweetheart…”

“You don’t want to get on my bad side, Sawyer, believe me,” she warned though a smirk was just begging to crawl onto her mouth.

“Didn’t take you as the type to have different sides. You always sounded a little borderline to me, misery.” Chelsea averted her gaze from the flames and dug her forehead into her icy hands. Sawyer put an arm around her shoulders and played with her baby pink dreadlocks. “You don’t have a bad side,” he laughed.

“You don’t here much of it because no one ever lives to tell the tale. So don’t go there.”

“You’re all bad, misery, there’s not one speak of good in you.”

“And don’t you forget it, babe…” her whisper was dark and seductive, she was inching towards his soft lips again but Sawyer knew better than to let her take him over. He pushed her away and took back his arm.

“You think this is funny? You think this is a game? GROW UP!” he yelled, finally achieving all the surrounded survivors’ attention now but they both didn’t care. Sawyer nearly shoved her into the fire but she wasn’t afraid, she couldn’t care more or less.

“After you…” Snide. She still had it; nothing could make her back down. Sawyer’s sea green eyes were temporarily blinded with an obscurity and he jumped on her. He had one knee pinned down into her stomach, one hand clasped onto her slender throat and one held onto her shrivelled black heart, with a hunger to rip it out of her system. It was useless to her anyway. She was barely breathing, hardly living. He dug his nails into her neck and she could only let out a cut-off chuckle. The grip tightened and his eyes darkened – all she could do was laugh?

“-HEY! HEY! SAWYER!” Sawyer didn’t even hear their screams or their terrified cries until several others ripped him off her near-dead body. Chelsea took in a deep breath and her strong coughing turned into hacking. Jack shoved him into the sand, holding him threateningly in a position much like how he just had Chelsea. But Sawyer’s expression couldn’t hold a candle to the anger Jack had plastered on him. “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” Jack screamed at him just inches from his face, spraying spittle on him.

“It’s not raining, is it, Doc?” he asked, tone still cold and hard and Jack could see something different inside Sawyer too. It was unusual because Sawyer didn’t lost control anymore just by simple petty annoyance, especially on a young girl, despite her power to bring him down. It was unusual, because no one else had that power. “She got what was coming to her; you don’t know who she really is.”

“Are you okay?” Kate asked with definite worry. As Chelsea’s vision faintly returned in a blurred image, she saw Kate look up at Sawyer with something that clearly asked if he any self-control at all. Chelsea’s plastic smile finally let down after sucking in great mouthfuls of air. A few more people helped her sit up and she saw a bunch of losties had gathered to watch the fiasco, with Sawyer and Jack still going at each other’s throats in the background, the noise was shrill. She looked around and only found one man was still seated afar, hadn’t even moved a muscle upon hearing her distress. His black eyes steadily connected with hers… It was Sayid.

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” Morgan was outraged, really he was, he pushed Jack off the traitor just so he could have a go at Sawyer himself. “What the fuck are you doing, you fucking faggot?” Chelsea would have jumped in to stop Morgan’s actions but… C’mon, Sawyer almost tried to take her life. And it was just a few smokes after all…

“YOU CRAZY BASTARD!” Morgan screamed as a few people tried to drag him off, allowing Sawyer the apparently undeserving opinion of getting up and defending himself. “What the fuck are you doing trying to strangle her?” Morgan waited for an answer but Sawyer’s calm reserved peace of mind only bought him more battle.“LET’S SEE HOW YOU LIKE IT!” he outstretched his shaking hands and raced for Sawyer’s neck.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Jack stepped in between them before Morgan would get his fists of fury out. “No one moves until this is sorted out. Last thing we want is innocent blood spilt all over our hands.”

“Typical, Jackass, always trying to play the hero.” Sawyer adeptly pushed Jack aside and walked past him to Morgan who was trying so hard to restrain from shooting out. Sawyer was telling nothing now but the cold hard truth and Chelsea foresaw what was coming. She tried to push herself back up, still heavily gasping but overprotective arms held her back.

“Why did you hurt her?” Morgan shot directly.

“Because your girlfriend’s a slapper, Morgan,” he answered. Everyone fell silent as if wishing Sawyer to continue. The look Morgan came back with was a little more infuriated that his last.

“You don’t know what you’re-“

“NO, YOU DON’T KNOW, FOUR EYES! She’s just been playing everyone here behind your back. And I thought it was just about time I revealed the reality. ‘Cos she doesn’t deserve discreet judgement, she doesn’t even feel any more regrets than the psychotic serial killer next door who took out their own family for a couple of cigarettes!”

“I think that’s going a little overboard, Sawyer, don’t you?” she hissed in a coarse voice. Sawyer stared her down, his emotion was tough love. She didn’t even bother with faking the resentment or tears this time as Morgan slowly turned towards her, slowly starting to believe the rumours.

“You’re a fucking whore who only looks after no.1… I’m just expressing what everyone else here has been thinking.”

“Would you like to finish this out of the public eye?” she seethed, giving a nod towards the nervous crowd. The anguish was so strong inside her voice, almost uncontained but Morgan was starting to worry why none of it showed up on her face. “I think we’ve disturbed everyone enough for one night.”

“Like you give a fuck about them.”

“I do.”

“Bullshit! No, I’m not finished with you yet, misery.” He approached her and before they knew it, she was under the pressure of his crushing muscles again. Everyone frowned in confusion when she started grinning, acting strangely and letting her guard down. It was like she was actually enjoying it. “What you would do just so you could always have it your way,” he breathed in her ear. Chelsea remained silent, still glaring at Sayid, and then she caught on a notion.

“We’re alike you know, Sawyer.” Sawyer’s grip tightened on her aching shoulders and collarbone but he passed it off, laughing loudly to pretend it was a joke. A damn hilarious one too.

“Well, I’m flattered, really I am, misery, but there’s a very clear difference between you and I… you’re a fucking vampire.”

“And you’re not?” she asked sceptically.

“I just press people’s buttons and that’s where I draw the line. But I bet everyone else here would sure like to hear about you.”

“Hey, watch it, don’t make this personal,” she said sarcastically. Sawyer shoved her away so she tripped and fell on the sands again, padding her hard landing reluctantly. Out of the blue, Morgan finally stepped up, saying her name like it was a dreadful omen and staring like she was the devil.

“Is it true…?” She engaged eye contact with him and opened her mouth to speak. Her expression was unchanged but Morgan cut her off before she could say anything. “And don’t you dare lie to me this time… I want the truth.”

“I’m a pathological liar, Morgan. So I guess you’re just gonna have to take your chances.” She never gave him a certain answer but he knew she couldn’t give him the truth. He walked away, he’d heard enough. He paid way too much attention into the way he walked. Anyone could recognize it anywhere: stiff and broken-hearted. Chelsea didn’t feel a thing. If anything, then possibly relief he was out of her life for now. He was just another self-pitying twat who pretended to understand where she was coming from.

“Now you’re an outcast. No one will touch you now that they know what you are and everyone hates you. But that’s okay… because you hate them more.”

“I don’t recall ever mentioning I hate anyone. I just find it difficult to put up with them but I do what it takes.”

You’re never going to crack are you? “… Well aren’t you glad you can finally rest that artificial smile?”

She looked back at Sawyer and came towards him, her head resting on his shoulder. His dirty hair brushing her delicate features for the last time. “I have nothing more to say to you,” she whispered quietly for his ear’s only.

“I know you’re kind… and you’re nothing like me.”

“Touché,” she responded with a wary sigh, finally ending this eternal argument they’ve been saving for. The ultimate showdown, as some might say. Sawyer didn’t smirk like he had planned to. He had taken all he could stand from her, utterly sick of the sight of her. The frown he had suited on drew deep lines across his face and within an instant, he left. Everyone did.

When Chelsea looked up again in the blistering cold, the dimly lit fires still illuminated Sayid’s more or less gentle face. His eyes never left her when everyone else did.

--

Hmmm the chapters seem to be getting longer... oh dear. Poor Morgan. But someone had to tell him... -suspicious shifty eyes-