A/N: Yikes, I'm so nervous about this… This is my first-ever Lost-fanfic, and even though I have absolute confidence that I love Sawyer enough to make him believable, I've still only seen the third season, so I might just make him OOC by not knowing that he turns into an alien in the later seasons or something… And also, because of this only-seen-one-season-situation, I've decided to follow the plotline… Basically just when it fits me. XD Hope you'll like it! (And keep in mind that this chapter's just the prologue. The next one will be longer, I promise.)

Disclaimer: I don't own Lost. If I did, Kate would act like any sane individual and back the hell away from Jack.

Prologue: This Way's So Much Easier

She's going to be fine. That's what he keeps telling himself.

She's going to be fine, simply because that's the way he's decided that it's going to be, and since that is, he doesn't care about the way Jack looks when he walks out of her tent, doesn't listen to that little voice in his head that icily points out the fact that nothing's ever turned out the way he's decided it's going to be.

Sawyer doesn't listen to any of that. And since he doesn't, neither does he have to worry.

And he's happy about that. Hell, he almost feels sorry for Jack, having to walk around with that expression on his face all the time. The one he always has when he knows that something is terribly wrong, but still refuses to believe that it's something he can't fix.

For that, Sawyer pities him. In fact, he almost despises him. Because Jack's the goddamn doctor here, and he's supposed to be their leader or whatever, isn't he supposed to be the one who knows this stuff?

Isn't he supposed to be the one who knows that she'll be fine? That doesn't give up hope, even on someone who hasn't opened her eyes in two days, someone who's brown hair is sticking to her forehead and who's cheeks are burning from the fever eating away at her inside?

Jack comes out of her tent again. With that look on his face. Sawyer feels his mood sink a little further just because of that, and Jack probably senses it, but he still walks up to him and sits down.

"She's getting worse."

"No kidding."

Jack turns to him.

"Don't you want to go see her?"

Sawyer scoffs and looks back at him. At least with his head, his gaze is steadily fixed on a point right above Jack.

"Why?" he asks, makes sure that Jack can't miss his hatred. "Has her barely existing breathing changed a lot since I last saw her?"

And then Sawyer stands up, leaves Jack staring at the place he used to be, because he doesn't want to listen to him. Doesn't want to hear anything that would in any way make him think that he worries.

Never will he accept that if he'd had Jack's ability to even show his emotions in that expression, he would never leave Kate's tent.

He would sit on her bedside, bury his face in her chest, cry-cry-cry, and whisper those words he should've told her so long ago.

Aw… I love Sawyer when he's sad! It's almost as hot as when he's angry! XD Anyway, this is basically me losing my Lost-writing-virginity, so any comment is appreciated!