A World Of Endings

By: Thought

Disclaimer: Nope!

Set around episodes 1.07 and 1.09, based off of Sayid's line to Kate regarding Sawyer in 1.07.

A/N: This is my first Lost fic, so don't hurt me! Continuity and characterizations should be ok, as I just finished watching from about 1.7 to 1.15 within fifteen hours. Written for Caliga, because I've now got Kate and Sayid muses. Now to satisfy my Beka and Tyr muses and my Gibbs and Abby ones…

Summary: I don't trust him with you. (Sayte)

XXX

"I don't trust him with you."

The words, said in that carefully formed English heavily tinged with the accent which she finds unnervingly calming chase her thoughts as she walks past Sawyer arguing over something with Locke. It's getting dark, and she can hear the sounds of the survivors on the beach settling in for the night. She sees him in the distance, sitting on an outcropping of rock, staring into the ocean.

"What are you contemplating?" she asks him when she reaches his side. He is silent for a while, enough time for her to make herself comfortable on the rock beside him.

"The end of the world," he says, finally, not taking his eyes off the waters in front of them.

She half laughs with surprise. "Deep subject matter, there," she observes.

He shrugs. "It seemed like a good night for it."

She leans back on her hands, stretching out on the rock like a tigress. "I suppose. Being that it's all…ya know, dark and quiet and all…just like every other night on this God forsaken island."

"Maybe the night picks the thoughts," he replies blandly.

"Yeah. Sure." She smiles in a sort of amusement at his confusing personification of things that she has never taken time to contemplate. "He's not the end of the world," she says after a few minutes of silence in which she tries not to think about that which she has been putting off all of her life.

He turns to her, and a smile plays at the corners of his lips in the moonlight. "I know that. I just don't want him to be the end of your world."

And it strikes her that it is wrong and dangerous that he can read her so well as to know whom she was referring to with her previous statement. "I can take care of myself," she mutters, resorting to childish defense mechanisms to avoid his steady gaze. She pushes herself up from the rock, but his hand lightly catching her wrist makes her freeze, half standing.

"Don't make that the only thing you can hold on to," he warns. "Because when you can't take care of yourself for once, no one else will do a thing to help you."

She flinches, trying to make her mind process his sharp words. "What, you saying I should let someone take care of me? Be the maiden in distress?"

He shrugs. "We all need to feel safe once in a while."

"Sure. You volunteering? Cause I can tell you right now, I'm not the easiest person to watch out for."

"I'm good at watching," he replies without any hesitation.

She throws up her one free hand in surrender. "Why not? I mean, what the hell! It'd be nice to know that one person cares about me in this place."

He pulls her back to sit beside him. "Many people care for you, Kate. Probably more than you know."

She is rigid against his gentle hold, as she has been since she got to this place. He releases her wrist to slowly stroke her back, long steady movements of his hand that slowly soothed her muscles into relaxation.

"Thanks, Sayid," she murmurs after a period of time that could have been a minute, and could have been a millennium. He just nods in the darkness. And Kate thinks about the end of her world, and can only picture Sayid.