a sawyer & kate story
AN - - - Well. I have about a BAZILLION ideas stemming from that WONDERFUL (and Skatey) finale, so expect some more Lost stuff from me. I actually really, really like this peice. I'm fond of how broken it is and all the run-on sentences, since I was trying to write it as she was thinking it. Very nice. Disclaimer; No. Just no. Click that purple button at the bottom, because...because...because Sawyer is awesome?
Disclaimer; No. Just no.
Click that purple button at the bottom, because...because...because Sawyer is awesome?
"What's the matter?"
"We're losing fuel."
"We're losing fuel! Look outside, tell me if you see anything!"
"We have a fuel leak! A bullet must have pierced the tank."
"We've gotta find a place to set her down!"
"There's no fuel on the island! We've got to get to the boat or this chopper's useless!"
"I'm telling you, I don't see the boat!"
"Well then keep looking!"
"We gotta get every ounce of extra weight off this chopper now! Anything that's not bolted down, toss it out!"
"Now what? That enough? Do we make it?"
"I'd feel a hell of a lot better if we were two-hundred pounds lighter."
She realizes what he's going to do as soon as the words are out of Lapidus' mouth, even before he does, she thinks. He stiffens, shifts a little and looks out over the water, and she doesn't know why she's fighting the urge to grab his arm, hold him there, whisper in his ear, "let Jack be the hero, Sawyer," even though she knows Jack would never even think about sacrificing himself the way Sawyer is now.
Sun's in shock and pregnant, they can't throw her out and she probably doesn't weigh two hundred pounds anyway and of course, Lapidus is flying the damn copter. Jack's got the stupid appendectomy excuse and Hurley wouldn't have been able to make it back to shore, even though he probably would have been one of the first to volunteer if he could have. And she knows that leaves Sawyer, Sayid and her.
She doesn't, however, know what to think when she figures out that she'd rather they all go down then have Sawyer leave them – leave her.
Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she can hear Jack and Lapidus still arguing over whether or not they should turn back and go to the island, and all she wants to do is scream at them. It doesn't matter! Don't you see, it doesn't matter! Sawyer's going to jump! Because she isn't jumping and Sayid sure as hell isn't and it occurs to her that she's not even thinking about this rationally.
He's looking at her, she can feel his eyes searing into the back of her neck, and she doesn't need to look to see the expression his face. She doesn't want to turn when he calls out. She just wants to ignore what's about to happen.
He stays put for a moment, memorizing her face, she thinks, maybe, burning it into his memory until suddenly he leans in and whispers rapid-fire into her ear. His breath is warm on her neck, and his rough jaw is brushing hers, and all she wants to do is climb onto him, hold him down, make someone else jump. Anyone but him.
But she doesn't.
She doesn't process what he's saying, just logs the dis-jointed words into her brain for future analysis because she doesn't have the oxygen cells to spare for thinking about it at the moment and next thing she knows he's pulled back and is once more looking at her with the most pained, loving expression anyone's ever directed her way, and she realizes he's waiting for her to do something. So she, too, memorizes him. She doesn't know whether or not she'll ever see him again, and if she can't make him stay, she's gonna try to remember him.
"Why are you telling me this?"
She chokes it out, the only thing she can come up with that makes any sense, that she'll let herself say (and she still doesn't know why she's holding herself back). He wonders if he assigns any meaning to the way her voice breaks, to the heartbreak that must be evident on her face.
She prays to a God she doesn't believe in that just this once he knows it for him, and not for Jack.
He leans in and kisses her, so passionately, so beautifully she wants to die right here, right now, so nothing ever changes, so he doesn't jump out of the fucking helicopter.
She keeps expecting him to break it, because every instant he stays in the helicopter is cutting their landing closer and closer but he doesn't, and she can't breathe, she's on fire, but she will never, ever pull back from him, ever. And this she commits to, even if she refuses to hold him down (for a reason she swears she'll never understand).
He's the one to pull back and she's left there, gasping, still leaning towards him, and he looks at her one last time before letting out a huge, gorgeous sigh.
"Just do it, Freckles."
And he turns and jumps. She reaches out a hand, grasping at air, trying to hold him down like she'd wanted to since she'd first known, but now it was far too late.
She watches frantically for him to surface, and she holds her breath with him, as though she's helping him. Finally he surfaces, and only then does she breathe out. She see him look up at her and she waves; just a tiny little wave because blowing a kiss seems to corny, and she swears that he smiles at her.
For an instant, she considers jumping and she even stands, she is even halfway out the door before she sits back down. And she doesn't know why.
She doesn't really cry for him until they're on the yacht. They're safe and on their way back to civilization and Jack is hovering and she spends nearly the entire week locked away in her room with Aaron, trying to see Sawyer in him, trying to pretend Aaron is their's, wishing she was pregnant after all and wondering if she had been if he would have stayed.
She hopes he made it back and she knows he did, but even that doesn't soothe her because he's not with her.
Somewhere in there, though, somewhere in the pain and the confusion and the hurt and the fear, she actually figured out why she couldn't hold him down... Why she didn't jump out after him.
It's funny, actually. He'd always thought he wasn't good enough for her, that she deserved better. That Jack was the hero, and he the villain. That she was strong, and he weak. He had it all wrong.