Lost belongs to JJ Abrams and all the wonderful people out there. I'm borrowing for fun. Kate thinks over the 'I Never' game she played with Sawyer.
Lost - I Never
By Mystic
March 3rd, 2005
I never watched a man sleep. Sawyer's asleep. He moans in his sleep and it's unattractive. My husband used to do the same, he used to roll over and kick me and moan something about laundry. I didn't like to do laundry, but I can cook. Sort of. Sawyer's going on about his mom now. I've never heard Sawyer talk about his mom. I know she's dead, killed by her husband, but it's not like Jack where I know his mom was a prissy bitch and his dad was an asshole.
Wonder what Sawyer's parents were like before. He must have been a little boy, I figure around seven or eight when they died. Must have been horrible, to know your father killed your mother. His eyebrows furrow painfully and his head is full of sweat and he's moaning again. I can't make out what he's saying, but I hear him say 'mom' and it hurts me somehow. I try to look away, to watch the trees flowing in the wind, but it's impossible because he yelps and my attention is back on him.
I never had a problem falling asleep before. Don't know what's wrong with me. I've fallen asleep pretty easily since we crashed. Just find a safe spot and lay down and be secure in the fact that if anything happens, I can defend myself and I close my eyes. Sure, I've woken up a lot during the night, but the act of falling asleep... not a big deal. Now I'm listening to him moaning and I'm leaning against a tree with my pack at my side and I can't sleep.
Wish I could blame it on my stomach being hungry, but it's pretty content, full of fruit and liquor. Wonder how long until we find some wheat here to make bread. Bread's my favorite food. I used to bake it. Couldn't manage a microwavable brownie, but I can do bread. Go figure. Sawyer's stomach rumbles audibly and I feel ashamed not to have shared some food while he was sharing his liquor. Maybe it's the liquor.
I never drank for fun. It just wasn't something I ever thought about doing. Drinking was for getting drunk and it was just sad. My dad used to drink for fun. He'd go out with his buddies to a bar after a long day of work and get wasted. He'd stroll in around one in the morning and bang into the table at the foyer. He'd curse loudly and stumble all the way to his room, fall into bed beside my mom, and go to sleep.
Now I knew why I didn't drink for fun, it's just not that fun. In the morning my brain would be throbbing. It's only been an hour since our game ended. I go to the edge of the camp and then another few yards for safe measure and vomit. Done this before. You can't get what you want if your head isn't on straight and drinking definitely puts a spin on it. My eyes water from the burning in my throat, but I don't regret having done it. Sawyer wouldn't see it, wouldn't smell it or even think on it in the morning.
I never let myself be concerned with what a man thought of me. I don't know why the ones on this island get to me. Hurley runs from me and I'm scared of what he's thinking. Charlie gives me that look and I'm searching for what I did wrong. Jack screams at me and I'm petrified of what he's uncovered. Sawyer stares and smiles and I get an ache in my belly wondering what he knows. I was never like that before.
When I got married I was young and stupid and in love. Most marriages are driven by that I guess. But if he gave me a curious look, it wasn't a big deal. Not like it is here. Here I worry about what everyone thinks, especially Jack. There are nights I have nightmares that we get rescued and I get arrested and Jack wants nothing to do with me. It shouldn't matter that much, should it?
I never had nightmares. Even when I was little and scared, I never ever had nightmares. I would have happy dreams, or no dreams at all. There would be horses and trees and rivers and nice stuff. No monsters or dead pilots, or boats on fire. There were never corpses, or kidnappings, or wild boars. Even after I pulled the trigger and watched a bullet rip through a man I thought I'd love the rest of my life. I didn't have nightmares about that.
Here I have nightmares every night and I can't make myself wake up. So in the morning I'm left with haunting images rolling in my head and I spend the day trying to forget them only to come upon them the next night. Sawyer rolls over and moans something that sounds like 'Hibbs'. Wonder what that is. I try not to wonder, the more engrossed I am in his story, the more I'll want to find out about it and it's not my place to know. Besides, it'll just give me more nightmares.
I never loved a man. I have to lie to myself to forget his face. Why couldn't I lie to them? Jack asks and I tell him I killed him. Sawyer asks and I tell him I married him. If the two ever got together they'd figure me out. Of course they'd never sit together long enough to have a civilized conversation about anything, much less me. Sometimes I wonder if they even would.
They're so like brothers sometimes. The way they're stubborn about everything and demand it be their way or nothing. The way they push buttons purposely to get the answers they want. They way they brush off things like they're insignificant and then obsess about it later. The way they mumble stupidity in their sleep. Jack talks in his sleep too. I heard him when we first crashed. He was sleeping near me, and he started talking. I heard him say my name.
I never wanted a man to love me. Not even my husband, he'd been a guy I fell into. He wasn't someone I knew long or had a crush on. Don't think I've ever had a crush. But that's a lie. I can't believe I can't be honest about a crush. Something so simple. I can't tell myself I have a crush on... just can't because I want him to want me and I'm not sure if he does. I asked him once, in an offhand sort of way, but his mind was on other things. He wasn't thinking about me.
Sawyer turns over and grunts and I lay down, facing away from him. I remove a shirt from my bag and ball it up, pressing my head against it to try and sleep. He mumbles something else and I shut him out. It's easy because I don't want to listen to him. I don't even hear the boar as it rips through all his stuff, stomps on his liquor and pees on his shirt. In the morning I'm composed and ready to go. I don't even care that the boar has done all this because all I want is the gun. I told Jack I'd get the gun.
I never cared about getting a gun just to impress the man I love. I don't know if it was a lie, that I wanted to spend time with the only other person on this island who just didn't belong. I don't think either of us is as outcast as we think. It's kind of in our heads because really, no one else knows what we've done, no one else is pushing us to the side. We push ourselves, I guess. But I don't jump to spend time with Sawyer. I think he's an obnoxious pig who needs a couple good punches to the face to knock the stupidity out of him.
But the only way to get the gun is to play nice. That's how a con works really, you play nice to get what you want. Sawyer wants to think I have a thing for him, so I play the angle, get flirty, smile, play his 'I Never' game and help him find the boar. He just stands there waiting to shoot. He can't shoot it. It's just a pig. We could be eating well tonight, but he doesn't because the pig isn't who he wants to kill. It kind of eases my mind a bit in an odd sort of way. So on the way back, I approach him.
"You know, I never thought this would end without bacon." I put a hand to my stomach, faking hunger.
Sawyer gives me that stare, the one that says he's not playing games anymore and I turn away, my smile fading. I know when to take a hint. But then he smiles. "So, what is it you're after here, Freckles. You're a smart gal, I'm sure there's something specific in my stash you want."
"The gun," I tell him, watching his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
"So, Doc set you up to this."
"No." I push a branch away from my face.
"So, say I was to play 'I Never' right now..."
I smile, wondering what game he's playing now. He's got that smile on his lips, but there's a sarcasm to it. A biting anger that you can only know is there if you've been around Sawyer. "I'd say 'hey, let's go,' but we're fresh out of Brandy."
"I never loved a man named Sawyer." He shot quickly. "Wouldn't drink, would you?"
It's the last thing I thought he'd say.
"I never played with a man's feelings just to get a gun." Sawyer's arm caught a tree and he swung around it.
My smile falls into a frown.
It seems to make him happy 'cause he lets out a laugh. "I never loved Jack Sheppard."
He manages to catch me when I fall. I tripped over a root I should have seen and was well on my way to a good many scrapes on the rocks hidden below the foliage. Sawyer holds my arms tightly until I get my footing again and he smiles at me. It's a knowing smile. A smile I hate. He definitely knew more about me now than I knew of him.
"Don't worry Freckles, I'll give your boyfriend the gun."
I watch him walk ahead of me, towards the sound of cracking wood. My mind is already imagining Jack there. He usually kicks it not knowing it was probably easier with the axe, if Boone ever let it go. Sawyer would walk up to him and... what would he say? The scenarios in my head are a bit embarrassing for me, but I force myself not to follow him and be a buffer for his stupidity. I make my way to the beach, my cheeks a brilliant shade of red.
Finis