His heart isn't real, it's a muscle separate from the rest of his body and he hides it, buried under dirt and mountains of rock. He sent money to Clementine, but only because she was flesh and blood. Rules change for family. The people on the island, it's nonsexist, except for keeping him alive.
He started off caring about himself, making himself essential and, as such, living. And it was good, pissing off the doctor and (falling in love) enjoying his time with Kate.
But…
Karl and Alex are meeting alone in the woods where her father once saw the ghost of his mother. They are having an evening picnic, naming stars, talking children and the future. They are young and in love. A soft glow comes from the lantern they have and they talk about everything. They talk about Ben, about parents, about life. They plan an escape from the island.
Los Angeles. New York. Paris. Barcelona. London. Somewhere they can go, somewhere where happily ever after lives. They'll find it. Because she is strong and brave, because he is good and takes care of her. Because people like them rarely ever get happy endings; though they deserve it.
But they were kids. Karl and Alex. Rousseau was insane, no doubt about it, but her daughter…Karl. How simple their lives should have been. How their lives actually where. How, when he looked at Alex, he thought what Clementine might be like. How he changed these thoughts instantly and moved on so that he wouldn't be caught.
He hates the new man, Miles, even more for digging up the bodies. It's one delusion Sawyer could have lived under. The idea of a happily ever after, the idea of a couple actually working. He should have stayed with Cassidy ( he reminds himself), he should have done something- resisted. Fought back. He should have changed then.
Because life here… because life here is changing him. Changing him into someone else. And this change, without his consent, scares the shit out of him more than monsters in the jungle and the promise (threat) of no real rescue.
Even on the trek with the survivors they met, Alex and Karl would still sit together. They would hold hands often. They would kiss. It was simple, uncomplicated. Life on the island meant they had bigger problems, more things to worry about.
One time, before the plane crash, before the romance, Karl was found stealing extra chocolate from the pantry. The adults took him to room 23 for the first time, and left him there for a day. Alex sat outside her house with her doll, jumping up every time someone walked by. Her father watched from inside the house, a frown on his face- the first of many.
As the sun sets, they walk Karl back home. Alex runs over to him and they hug. He is shaking and a bit twitchy, he apologizes for losing the chocolate. He meant to give it to her.
They never spent a day apart after that.
(It's too perfect, too fairy-tale. Evil monsters and wicked and cruel characters- the innocent lovers-
they should have known this/)
Sawyer doesn't know this. He snaps at Miles, tells him it's time to go. The smell is overwhelming and the faces are disgusting and they are being hunted. He has to get Aaron and Claire back to Jack, who'll have a plan. He has to get back to Kate, which is more a physical need than an emotional one.
More so, he just wants to get to the people he knows. He wants to check to make sure everyone is safe. And then he wants to leave. Leave the place that's changing him, go home to America where everyone is anonymous. Where he can be Sawyer of James Ford and live the way he wants to.
As they go, he kicks the sand back over Karl's face.
And here's the real end to the story.
Red gets eaten by the wolf, only not the wolf that was following her. She's a silly little girl and gets trapped by another wolf. This one is more cunning and doesn't get caught by the hunter.
The hunter gets eaten too, trying to save the girl from the wolf. He had said he would follow this girl to the ends of the earth, and this proved to be true.
And the Big Bad Wolf- the one who was originally supposed to eat the girl and be killed by the hunter- limps home, ashamed of himself and tired of this game. He goes home and lays down and goes to sleep; troubled by nightmares of the little girl he could have saved, if he wasn't too busy trying to act a certain way.
(the person who invented happy endings did so as a cruel joke- an example of the impossible-
they almost had one.
Almost)