Title: Guilt
Characters: Sawyer, Michael Rated: R, language
Spoilers: Exodus 2&3, and
Notes: This is turning into a bit of a series it seems, because this is in the same universe as Blame. It's the same situation, just at a different point of time. A few hours later. But, it's not neccessary to read that before this. This is Michael's fault, because it turns out that he is a JOY to write for.
He'd still had cigarettes, which was pretty amazing to him. He'd smoked two packs the first day they were there, and after that he'd limited himself to two a day. He'd had half a carton when they crashed, and found a few more packs in the wreckage. Now he only had one pack, which is only because it had been in his pocket, and they were soaked to the core.
He'd spread them on the raft, tail to tip, and was fingering one thinking it was dry enough now to light, when he realized he didn't have a lighter. "You got a light," he asked, looking over at Michael lying beside him.
"Hmm," Michael said, opening his eyes and looking at him. "Oh." His hand went fishing in his pocket and he grimaced, pulling out a pack of matches. "Sorry man. Don't know if they'll work."
Sawyer took it and started flicking them, hand curved over it to block the wind. He got it lit by the second match, and that left four more. He handed it back to Michael but Michael waved him off. "Thanks."
"I didn't want him," Michael said quietly, and Sawyer wondered for a minute if he was even talking to him.
"What?"
Michael looked at him. "I wasn't supposed to have him. Walt. I didn't want him."
Sawyer closed his eyes because he didn't know what to say to that. "Well. Shit happens, I guess."
Michael laughed, that kind of breathless laugh that Sawyer had come to expect by now. "I did. At first. God. I was excited. I was like, I'm gonna be a father. Me. A Dad."
Sawyer frowned and looked at him. "So what happened?"
"Susan decided I couldn't provide for them," Michael said, frowning. "I was... I was in construction at the time, and it was slow, so it's not like she didn't have a point. But I could have gotten another job."
Sawyer blinked, looking up at the sun. "She just left with him?"
"Yeah," Michael said. "Went to Amsterdam. She was a lawyer."
Sawyer snorted sarcastically. "And a lawyer can't make a damn good living in America?"
"She wanted to practice international law." Michael looked at him and Sawyer instantly stopped smirking. "She moved man. That's the part that matters."
Sawyer frowned, feeling chagrined. "Yeah. Sorry."
"The thing is, I kind of just let her. Ya know? I put up a fight, sure, but. In the end I just let her go. I guess I was stupid. Thought she'd be back. You know, that machismo thing?" He grimaced out a smile and shook his head. "Oh, she'll be back. No one can live without big bad Mike."
Sawyer laughed, measuring the amount off of Michael's reaction. "Yeah. It'll get you every time, man."
"Yeah," Michael said, his grin fading. "But she didn't come back. She met someone. She stopped calling. Stopped returning my calls."
Sawyer's frown deepened and he shook his head. "Bitch."
"I was so angry," Michael whispered. "I was just fucking livid. I was talking to her and I heard him, ya know? I mean, we'd been bad before she left, but. I didn't think--"
"That's fucked up, man," Sawyer said, rolling his head to look at him.
"I got mowed over by a car that night," Michael said, a smile ghosting over his face. "Like. Hollywood man. It was. I get this horrible news, and I'm so destroyed by it that I don't pay attention, and I get run over by a car." He looks at Sawyer. "Broke both my legs. Both of 'em."
"Shit," Sawyer said, his eyebrows rising.
"She came to see me in the hospital two months after it happened," Michael said, his voice growing quieter. "Thought at first she realized she loved me. Thought maybe she came to her senses."
Sawyer bites down on the inside of his cheek. "I'm guessin' no?"
"No man, she came to tell me she was getting married," Michael said, tears forming in his eyes. Sawyer looked away from them. "And that she wanted me to give up my rights to Walt, cause Brian wanted to adopt him."
Sawyer hit his head back against the raft. "Fuckin' dirty bitch."
"Hey man, come on," Michael said, casting him a dirty look. "She's dead."
Sawyer grimaced slightly but met his gaze. "Don't change the fact that that's a dirty thing to do, Mike."
"I did it though," Michael said, his voice trembling slightly over the words. "I did it. Thought it was best for Walt. I mean, she was gonna keep him ayway. No way was a guy like me gonna get custody. Practically unemployed, livin' in a shithole apartment in LA. Nah. They'd never give him to me." Michael looked at Sawyer and Sawyer was taken back by the pleading in his eyes. "Don't judge me man. I thought it was best for him."
"Hell Mike, I ain't one to judge," Sawyer said softly, resting his fingertips on Michael's outstretched arm. "Don't even worry about it."
"I never stopped loving him," Michael said, his voice choking off. "I wrote to him every birthday. I drew him pictures. Sent him cards. I never fucking stopped Iloving/I him."
Sawyer felt his chest tightening at the other man's pain, and it took him awhile to realize what it was. It had been too many years since he'd ever felt bad for someone else's pain. "I know, Mike."
"I never... I didn't ever..." Michael sat up suddenly, hugging his arms around his knees, ducking his head between his legs. "Shit man, I'm sorry. I don't mean to be crying on your shoulder like this."
Sawyer sat up slowly, looking at him. "S'alright, Mike. I get it."
Michael turned to look at him, the pain in his eyes knocking him to the core. "I never stopped loving him, Sawyer. Never."
"Ah hell, Mike," Sawyer said gruffly, wrapping his fingers around Michael's shoulder in the best imitation of support he knew how to give. "He knows that."
"How," Michael said, his eyes widening. "By my treating him like shit this whole time? Yelling at him? Telling what he's doin' wrong!"
Sawyer sighed, scooting closer and stretching his arm around Michael's shoulder awkwardly. "Listen, Mike. I don't know much, alright? And I certainly don't know what's in someone's heart. But he loved you. That much you can just tell. It's in the eyes."
"Yeah," Michael asked, shaking his leg, bouncing it up and down on the bamboo beneath them. "You think?"
"Yeah," Sawyer said, tightening his grip on Michael's shoulder before letting his hand slide off his back. "Yeah brother, I do."
Michael smiled slightly, sliding his eyes to look at Sawyer again before resting his chin on his knees. "Thanks man."
Additional Notes:
I should address a few concerns I had when I posted this on LJ, when people had a problem with how I have them acting, and the timing/continuity:
See in my head they've been floating all through the night, and a good portion of the next day in the Blame fic. So this one is set sometime after that, maybe even the next day. I just don't think they could be in panic mode all the time. There's only so much unbridled fear a person can handle before they snap. And I guess I think Michael would just... I don't know. Go kinda numb. And just kind of start talking, just have this need to get it out, to share it. To like, kind of bleed all over the place with it. And Sawyer, well, it doesn't matter to Michael that it's Sawyer. I think he'd do it to Jin too. Sawyer's just who's there. Which is not to say I don't think Michael geniuinely LIKES Sawyer, it's just to say that right now, Michael's kind of out of it.