Authors Note: Special thanks goes to KNJ over at The Fuselage for pushing and pushing me to write a story. I'm doing this for her.

Also, many thanks to KaydenceRei, who continually amazes me with her writing talent. I would not be doing this without you either.

Please Review! Disclaimer: I own nothing

Chapter 1

This was the day to finally get his revenge, to kill the devil that ruined his life.

It was a cloudy afternoon in Sydney as Sawyer walked into a metal workshop-type place along the harbor. We waited for Hibbs' contact to come out from the back.

"You must be Hibbs' mate," said Laurence, handing Sawyer a gun to carry out his plan. "I did a few jobs with Hibbs back in the States. Nice enough fella."

Sawyer gave a sarcastic look. "He's a son of a bitch."

"Right, indeed he is. A few disclaimers: Australia doesn't allow its citizens to carry handguns. You get nicked with this. ..."

Sawyer shook his head. "I'm not going to rat you out."

"Secondly, you know, I've been doing this for awhile and a man who buys a compact 357 with hollow point loads -- he's not looking to scare or steal. He's looking to kill. But when it comes down to it, if he finds he doesn't have what it takes to do the job. . . "

"Your sales pitch needs some work."

Laurence concluded: "What I'm saying is, you look a man in the eye and you point a gun at him, you find who you really are, mate. And should you find you're not a killer, there's no refund."

Sawyer leaves with a determined look on his face. He had been waiting 27 years for this moment, and no one was going to talk him out of it. He heads over to the shrimp stand.

Slowly, Sawyer exits his car, with his gun concealed.

Duckett immediately notices Sawyer. "Only two choices, shrimp in mild sauce, shrimp in hot sauce"

Sawyer is lost in thought and does not respond.


Sawyer finally responds and cocks his gun. "I'll go with the hot."

"Hot it is. Fellow American, huh? Good for you. You missed the lunch rush. Whereabouts you from?"


"Yeah. I love the south. Miss those southern women." Duckett laughs. " In Australia long?"

"Not really."

"For what it's worth, we've got a special at the truck here. Half price for all Americans. Name's Frank, by the way."


"Good to meet you, James. One shrimp and hot sauce."

He turns to hand Sawyer the shrimp, but Sawyer's gone. We hear the sound of his car driving away.


"When you look a man in the eye and you point a gun at him, you find who you really are, mate."

Damn that Son of a bitch, putting doubt in my head, Sawyer thought. He starts to drive to a bar - a bar that in another reality he would share a drink with a Christian Shepherd - the man who gave him the drive to carry out his revenge. Instead, he pulls off the road when he is slowly hit with a massive headache -

"You're a blight, a stain, a scavenger. You're a conman who prays on the weak and the needy. Tell me something, James, how do you live with yourself?"

"I do just fine."

"Do you? You're not even worth what it would cost us to incarcerate you. Which is why you're being deported. Your plane leaves this afternoon. And, James, you'll better never setting foot in Australia again."

What the hell was that? That memory seemed so real. But that never happened before – or did it?

Another flash burned into his brain:

"And I'm sure the first thing you did when you got here, James, was to gather everyone in a circle, and tell them about the man you shot in cold blood before you got on the plane."

Who was that woman? I have never seen her before. And why does it matter what she thinks of me? I haven't killed anyone!

Sawyer: "You want him dead, you kill him."

"I'm not a murderer".

"Neither am I!"

"Except for the man you killed in Sydney. They got files on us, James. All of us."

Who did that bald fella want me to kill? Did I kill again?

"A conman goes by many names friend. I've been Alan Seward, Anthony Cooper, Ted MacLaren, Tom Sawyer, Louis Jackson, and Paul..."

"Tom Sawyer."

"I was young and Huck Finn was taken. And the ladies loved that one. Made me charming."

"Well how about that."

"How about what?"

"Sawyer's my name too."

Sawyer's head was throbbing and the flashes would not stop. Who was this guy? Was he about to kill the wrong man?

"Look, I only took her money. It ain't my fault your dad overreacted."

"FINISH IT!!!!!!"

"Ok. Ok."

The old man rips the letter into pieces and Sawyer starts chocking the life out of him!

"You wanna go to Hell?!?! You wanna go to Hell?!?!?"

The rain started to pour. Sawyer was in tears as the flashes continued. In spite of this, he turned the key headed back to the shrimp stand.


The gunshot hits Duckett in the chest.

"I've got a letter for you. 'Dear Mr. Sawyer...' "


"You used to go by the name of Sawyer."

"What the hell are you talking about? You didn't have to -- tell Hibbs I would've paid."

Sawyer cries and pounds the dashboard relentlessly. He pulls over in front of the shrimp stand.

"Frank Duckett?"

"You're back! Would you like that hot shrimp now, mate?. I am just about to close."

Sawyer holds his hands out to show he is not armed.

"Hibbs… he sent me to kill you. Conned me into thinking you were someone I was looking for from my past. We'll I know now you are not him and …"

Duckett was shaking "And what?"

"I just wanted to let you know … knowing him, he'll probably send someone else when he finds out I didn't do it. You'll want to watch your back."

Sawyer turns back to his car.





Sawyer checked into a hotel. His head was throbbing. Memories of 3 years that he never lived kept flooding his head over the next several hours. Most of them focused on this blonde woman who seemed to know him better than he knew himself. And a plane crash.

Something you wanna ask me, Sawyer?

Yeah Jack I wanna ask you why you're fighting every one of us and sticking up for one of them.

He hated her? Why? Memories of distrust? Then deep love and a deep connection? He never loved any woman before. How could he be remembering this?

Look, I'm sorry. I should've listened to you when you wanted to get on this sub three years ago.

I'm glad you talked me out of it.


You were amazing today.

Thank you for believing in me.


He's right. It ain't safe. Put the women and children on the sub and get 'em the hell out of here. And if you put me and Juliet on the sub with 'em... we'll tell you anything you wanna know. You okay with that, sweetheart?



We decided to leave this Island, James, we did. And now we're going back.


Don't you leave me.

It's okay.

Don't you leave me!

I love you.

No, you don't let go!

I love you, James.

Don't let go.

I love you so much.

No! No, don't let go!


Juliet! No!

It's going down! This thing is gonna go! You have to let it go.

You have to go. This thing is going to blow at any second.


Jack! Jack, help me get him off.

Sawyer lay motionless on his bed sobbing for the next several hours.


The next day he started to make sense of his new memories.

Whatever happened didn't happen. At least not in this reality.

Frank Duckett was still alive. He'll still die. Someday. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe in 10 years, but it wouldn't be by my hand. Christian Shepherd. Jack's dad. He would never meet him. Neither would the Honorable Warren Truss, Minister of Agriculture, Fisheries, and Forestry, whom he head butted in a bar last night.

So I'm not being deported, he thought. He could avoid Flight 815 and not crash on that miserable island. Assuming the plane still crashes there. But Juliet? Would she still be there?

Sawyer walked over to a internet café and makes a few calls. As best as he can tell, Juliet Burke has not been in Miami in at least 3 years. If she is not there, she is probably still on the island.

There is one more call to make.

"Oceanic Airlines? I'd like to book a flight on flight 815 tomorrow afternoon. Yes, Los Angeles. My name is James Ford. Is seat 15B available? Great."

After he gives them the rest of his information, Sawyer hangs up the phone and closes his eyes slowly.


As James Ford boarded Flight 815, he walked by a number of familiar faces, many that he knew by name, Many he knew personal details of. But none he had ever met before.

He made eye contact with several of them. Locke. Jack. Sayid. Hurley. Ana Lucia who jumped him in the jungle. Kate, now in handcuffs, escorted by a Marshall.

None of them indicated any recognition. He was a total stranger to all of them.

As the jet engines roared, the plane moves down the runway, preparing to takeoff.

Sawyer sat back and gathered his thoughts. Am I actually hoping this plane crashes? Am I losing my mind? Is Juliet still alive and even if she is, will she remember?