Title: My Type of Hero
Rating: PG-13 for language, I suppose
Characters: Walt POV and Sawyer, gen fic.
Summary: "Webster, I know you did not come over here to talk about Sticks' and Boone's love that dare not speak its name or one of my many bad habits. Spit it out already."
ETA: I want to give a big thank you to Cucumber, who took the time to discuss Kate with me and supply a couple of better lines for Kate in this fic. The help was invaluable. :)
Sawyer walks up to Walt with Vincent beside him, who is being led on a newly made rope leash.
"Keep your mutt on it's leash."
Walt looks up from the comic he's intently trying to decipher, just in time to get a lick that seems to slime his whole face. "Gross Vincent." Walt pats his dog. "Thought he would stay around me." He takes the rope leash from Sawyer and goes back to looking at his comic.
Sawyer crouches down beside him and squints against the bright morning sun. "Awfully early in the day to be learning Spanish ain't it?" He grins.
Walt looks at him and shrugs. "Nothing else to do."
They're silent for a few minutes, each of them looking at the loud, technicolor panels in the comic.
"Ah, the Flash. He was never really my type of hero. The red spandex running suit?" Sawyer jabs a finger at the comic. "Too damn flashy." He says this with a straight face and waits for a reaction. Walt just stares back at him.
"Not funny man."
Sawyer stands up and runs a hand through his tousled hair. "Right, whatever. Just keep a better watch over Ol' Yeller, alright? It'd be tragic if he were to get eaten or something."
Walt pretends not to pay attention. This is yet another adult telling him what he should do, afterall. He's not going to give Sawyer, of all people, the satisfaction of him saying yes sir or some other crap adults like to hear.
But when Sawyer is out of sight, Walt checks the tightness of Vincent's collar.
No one is talking to Sawyer right now and Walt knows this. Not that they ever voluntarily do anyway, but Walt wonders what it's about this time. Why Sawyer is getting openly angry looks instead of just sort of irritated ones. Even Michael is avoiding Sawyer. Walt realizes the two are by know means friends, but hey, Sawyer and Sayid did help pull that Korean guy off of Michael when no one else on the beach made a move to break up the one-sided fight. You'd think Michael could do better than glare at Sawyer.
Walt carefully puts away the comic he's all but memorized, and decides to do some snooping. He could probably ask Locke, he'd tell him the truth, but Michael seems to always know when he wants to go talk with Locke. The guy has ESP sometimes, so Locke is a no.
Sayid and Kate are off by themselves, seemingly in deep conversation. Walt walks along the beach, heading in their direction. He makes a show of picking up shells as he goes, tosses a few into the ocean, puts a couple in his pocket.
"But Sayid, he lied to me at first. If he hadn't of slipped up, he might not have even told me at all. What did he think he would gain by keeping the accident from me?" Kate is throwing her hands around as she speaks. "He was willing to let Jack die in there without even telling me or even trying to help dig him out."
Sayid puts down the what ever it is he's tinkering with and turns to look at Kate. "Yes. Sawyer was wrong. But don't you think he would've been a little more inclined to tell you what was happening if you hadn't immediately started berating him when you set eyes on him? Haven't you learned that his first response to any perceived criticism is to go on the attack? It's just his nature." Sayid picks up a screwdriver and begins to work again. "He's a jerk. Yes. But that is no reason for you to sink to his level."
Kate visably deflates. "If Jack had died in that cave in, you wouldn't be nearly as understanding. I cannot believe you are attempting to defend him."
Sayid sighs. "Kate, I am not defending him. I'm trying to perhaps explain his behavior to you, so you can better deal with him in the future. That is all."
Well that explains it, Walt thinks. It's all about the doctor. Obviously, Kate and Sayid are upset so everyone else feels like they have to be upset too. Just like the popular kids at school. If one of the popular ones thinks someone else isn't as good as they are, they expect everyone else to go along with them. Pffft. Walt isn't buying into that crap. He remembers what it was like to be the new kid in school when he and his mom first moved to Austraila. The kids with their weird accents actually making fun of his accent, trying to make him say things like some freaking parrot.
He stomps off to find Sawyer.
Sawyer blows a particularily impressive smoke ring.
"That's a disgusting habit." Walt studies Sawyer for a moment as he kicks the sand around.
Lifting a brow Sawyer replies, "Is it?"
Walt kicks at the sand roughly, sending it flying in the breeze. "Yeah it is. It'll kill you."
"So they say Webster, so they say."
"Well it will."
"I'm not arguing with you, Webster." A few beats of silence pass. "Are you just gonna stand there all day kicking up sand or are you gonna pull up a nice comfy rock and sit awhile?"
"Are you gonna put out that cigarette?" Walt crosses his arms and glares.
"No. But I'm almost done with it anyway." Sawyer takes one last, long drag and buries the cigarette in the sand.
Shannon and Boone can be heard bickering a little further down the beach as Walt plops down beside Sawyer. "Doesn't she ever shut up? She's just like Heather Bannister from school", he pauses as a particularly shrill cry of 'shut up, Boone' is heard, "only louder."
With a nod and a smirk, Sawyer acknowledges this.
"And I thought that Boone was like her boyfriend or something, but Locke said Boone's her brother."
This induces a big grin that Sawyer tries to hide. A few minutes later, he takes off his sunglasses to look at Walt. "Webster, I know you did not come over here to talk about Sticks' and Boone's love that dare not speak i's name or one of my many bad habits. Spit it out already."
Walt looks at the waves rolling in from the ocean. Ok, he thinks, just blurt it out. Best way to do things. "Why does everyone hate you?"
"Anyone ever tell you you're damned rude?"
Still looking at the waves, Walt speaks in a monotone. "I want to know. I wanna know why you shot that guy too. If you don't tell me, I'll just ask someone else. No telling what they might say." Always good to throw that last bit in he thinks, no one wants to be ratted out.
"You do that if you want. It makes no nevermind to me."
Walt turns to glare at him, which causes Sawyer to toss both hands up in defeat. "Fine Webster, have it your way." He pulls his zippo out of his pocket and idly clicks it open and closed. "I did it because it needed to be done. The Doc," here Walt interrrupts him.
"Is a dork, like Clark Kent?"
Sawyer tries not to grin, but doesn't quite succeed.
"Yeah, I see you smiling man, so just give it up."
Sawyer chuckles. "I guess some people, probably just you and me, might think he's a dork. Anyway," he looks pointedly at Walt, "the doc sure as hell didn't like it, goes against his Hippocratic oath or some such shit. But that doesn't change the fact that it needed to be done. The Marshall," the lighter closes with a loud click, "Marshall asked Kate to do it but she couldn't, so that left me to do the dirty work." Sawyer offers Walt an unopened water bottle.
"But why?" Walt raises both eyebrows for extra effect and then takes the offered water.
"Are you deaf? Did I not speak clearly? I just told you why."
Walt mulls this over and stands up. "Thanks." He puts the cap back on the water and tosses it to Sawyer, who then snatches it out of the air with one hand and tosses it back.
"Keep it. I don't need Webster germs."
Walt smiles a little as he walks away.
Walt is tossing a stick to Vincent and thinking about just how boring this island is. The only good thing being not having to go to school. He takes the stick from Vincent and throws it toward the ocean. Vincent ignores it in favor of running off down the beach toward Sawyer, who is heading back to his new makeshift home, formerly Jack's. Walt walks over to join him.
"Thought I told you to keep Ol' Yeller on a leash?" Sawyer crouches down to pet Vincent though, and Walt's almost positive Sawyer actually likes the dog despite his tone, no matter what he might say.
Shrugging, Walt says, "Can't keep him on a leash all the time you know. He needs some freedom."
"Wise words Webster." Sawyer reaches into one of his suit cases and pulls out a comic, which he hands to Walt. "Found this awhile back. Thought you might appreciate new reading material."
Walt glances at the cover. "Cool. Batman. Thanks."
Sawyer makes a shooing gesture as he says, "Run along now. I've got things to do."
Walt rolls his eyes but decides he'll leash up Vincent and take him out to Sawyer's rock. Not because Sawyer said to leave, but because he can read in peace there, away from all the others.
At the rock, he stretches out on his back, Vincent beside him. The comic is soon read three times and boredom sets in once again. Sucks being a kid here. No one except Sawyer tells him anything. Michael spends all his time trying to pretend to ignore that Korean chick. Locke is at the cave, so he can't even play backgammon with him that often. As far as Kate, Sayid, that guitar playing guy, the pregnant chick and BooneShannon know, he doesn't exist. Maybe he should go talk with Hurley. He looks like he reads comics, probably Batman.
Batman is an interesting guy. The people in Gotham seem to not like him, be afraid of him even. But he saves them, does what has to be done and he gets no thank yous. Batman does his job and goes back to his cave to brood.
Walt thinks maybe Sawyer is a little like Batman.