Authors Notes: There are some spoilers, if you haven't watched up to the season 4 finale? There are a few minor spoilers. Mainly Sawyer and Hurley related though. I do not own LOST.
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He had been waiting for a while for his new chess opponent for some time now; it wasn’t like his ‘ability’ had ever been handicapped by location. His current location may have been on a boat on the way with 6 others to go back to ‘Crap-hole Island’ as Sawyer always lovingly called it, but Charlie Pace liked to pop up at gas stations and odd places like that so why should a boat cripple his other normal visitors like Jin and Mr. Ecko? He wouldn’t worry about it. Besides, if you could travel after death, getting onto a boat in the middle of the ocean probably wasn’t a big feat. Hugo ‘Hurley’ Reyes would have asked his new visitor this curious observation if he hadn’t been so distracted by the fact he’d never seen him in this manner. He’d never played Chess with the Dead, as he so lovingly titled it, with James ‘Sawyer’ Ford. Hurley always assumed he wasn’t dead.

But there he was, leaning against the back wall with his arms crossed, the back of his right foot against the wall and the other foot keeping his ratty brown boot planted on the rocky boat floor. Four years and he was still the Face of all the Oceanic survivors… If he could still keep the survivor part intact that was.

“Waitin’ to play with Casper?” the southerner drawled, his eyebrow rose in amusement at Hurley sitting at a table, alone, with a readily prepared chess set. Chess with Casper had probably been the most blunt Hurley had heard it put.

“… We’re on our way to the island, dude,” Hurley looked up at him, “So… Go away until we get there. I’m saving this for Libby,” he insisted, knowing Sawyer seemed to have a soft spot for the deceased.

Sawyer didn’t respond for a long moment, he took his foot, which had been cockily planted against the wall, and slowly eased it to the ground. He did a signature arrogant hair flip to get the long locks out of his eyes and gave Hurley a look. “Libby huh?”
“… Yeah, so… Get,” Hurley shooed, refusing to believe Sawyer was in the room with him to play Chess with the Dead.

“Get?!” Sawyer laughed, Hurley had missed that condescending chuckle, “Get?! I ain’t a dog, Thinner,” he grinned at Hurley.

“Then, like, go away! You probably suck at chess anyway!” Hurley exclaimed childishly.

Despite Hurley’s lame efforts to shoo him, Sawyer strolled over to the chair and sat down, “I take that as a challenge, I’m still a bit bitter 'bout you hustlin’ me over ping-pong.”

“I didn’t hustle you,” Hurley mumbled and he looked at Sawyer for a long time as the southerner’s fingers lingered over the King.

“Sawyer… Why are you here?” He had to ask, staring at the rough face of a man who had been through a lot of bad things due to sacrificing himself. Due to jumping out of a helicopter, he had been left to carry the weight of the few others who were left behind as well.

“That ain’t important, Hugo,” Sawyer said dryly, lifting his head from looking down at the pieces and to lock eyes with his friend. “Just… Son of a bitch!”

Hurley never realized how sentimental an obscenity could become.

Obviously it could get to the point where there were tears in his eyes, because Hurley felt wet sorrow threatening to fall from his eyes.

The blonde’s face fell, “You need to leave,” the smiles were gone. This was all business now, Hurley sadly realized to himself.

“Leave to where? To the island? I told you, we’re on our way!” Hurley exclaimed.

“Turn back,” Sawyer hoarsely said, his fingers tightly clenching the top of the King as he stared back at Hurley.

“We’re going to save you!” Hurley yelled.

“You’re going to sacrifice yourself, dipshit. Turn back!” Sawyer snapped.

Silence entered the room at Sawyers scream. Hurley just stared at him in shock, he had a temper but he didn’t normally scream like this.

He’d normally just fight.

Maybe he couldn’t touch Hurley.

Hurley didn’t want to find out what would happen if they did touch one another.

“Turn back,” Sawyer growled, his eyebrows scrunched together in a scowl of irritation. “Turn the Hell back.”

“Why-“ Hurley was interrupted by the loud snap from Sawyers hands. He had broken the King he had been clenching.

The two didn’t say anything for a long time, Sawyer flicked the head of the king at Hurley, “Ya wanna use that as a damn visual aid? Heads are gonna roll. Turn back.”

That’s when he couldn’t stand it, he got out and ran over to Sawyer and wrapped his arms around the blonde.

When he pulled away, nobody was there.

Hurley didn’t feel like playing chess tonight, so he closed the set up, sat down on the bed, and cried.