Heh heh….this is my first oneshot. Well, unless someone likes it and asks me to write more. Then it will be a long story. However, I'm a slow updater, so it would take a while, but I'm willing to write it if someone's willing to read it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lost. I do, however, own my own jar of imaginary peanut butter. I so need to go grocery shopping again.

Ohh….and another thing. I'm actually from the "deep south", so the way Sawyer talks in this fic is the way everyone that lives around me talks.

This takes place after the fight between Locke and Charlie (the actual fist fight not earlier verbal ones)


Charlie grimaced as he fell into the ocean. The salt water burned the wounds on his face, and his vision was blurred. Maybe if he pretended he was too hurt to move, Locke would stop. He groaned as he realized he didn't need to pretend. He really couldn't move.

John went to punch him again when a strong arm reached out and stopped him.

"Back off!" a voice roared, and Charlie watched as Sawyer flung John to the ground.

Locke picked himself up and glared at the con man. Deciding against getting his butt kicked, he huffed and walked off in the other direction.

"And you, what're ya'll lookin' at? Beat it!" Sawyer yelled at the crowd.

The people quickly scattered. Most left out of fear but some just out of disgust. As soon as he was sure they were alone, Sawyer turned his attention to the younger man.

"Seems you've gotten yourself into some trouble, huh?" he smirked and offered Charlie a hand up.

The musician allowed himself to be pulled up only to collapse on his knees and start vomiting. Sawyer winced slightly in sympathy and held him up until he finished.

"Okay. Look up."

"Wot? Why?"

"Just look up, so I can see how bad you're hurt."

Charlie did as he was told and let the older man examine his face. Sawyer let out a low whistle.

"C'mon, kid, let's get you to Doc."

"I'm fine."

"Sure you're fine, and all that blood pouring out of your face is just your way of luring us some live dinner."

"I said I'm fine."

"Look. You need stitches, and with the whole barfing thing, I'm pretty sure you got a concussion too. So either go with me to see the doc, or I'll beat you up myself and take you. Either way, you're going to get there"
Charlie sighed and nodded that he would go. Sawyer helped him up again, and the two started towards the caves.

"Why aware you helpin' me anyway?"

"Cuz,….I know what it's like to be the one everybody hates," .