Warning: MATURE SEXUAL CONTENTS!, M/M, Character Death (Boone is already dead...I cried like a baby...XD)

So I had to make some sort of peace with Boone's death and frankly, so did Sawyer (at least in my crazy imagination...XD) I hope you like it and if u can, please please please leave a review! Thank you in advance! ENJOY!

Also, I do NOT own Lost or any of the characters!

Whispers

Sawyer turned from one side of his make shift bed to the other, searching desperately for a crumb of comfort. Just a little would do. Just enough for him to drop into what was sure to be another night of restless nightmares and tossing and turning. But no. The Sand Man decided to take a night off it seemed and Sawyer was stuck in a state of wide awareness.

He contemplated stepping out of his tent and going for a walk, maybe clear his head a bit, but he was too exhausted to open his eyes. It was the worst possible way to feel. Too tired to do anything but incapable of resting to charge your batteries, doomed to wait until the very last shard of your energy finally ebbs away like slow trickling blood from a free flowing open wound. Nothing compared to that torturous sensation...

Sawyer sighed heavily and resigned himself to his fate. He stopped moving and waited. And waited. And waited some more. Whispers drifted to his ear. Damn...Didn't the other beach inhabitants have anything better to do than buzz round his tent in the middle of the night? He wasn't even settled in the populated areas so they had no excuse about 'accidentally' stumbling on his premises.

He groaned and buried his face in the pillow. Yes, an actual pillow. A little something he'd come across in the wreck and decided to keep for himself. It was practically caviar under the circumstances, that's how luxurious having something so mundane as a pillow was. But that night it didn't do much to calm Sawyer's taxed nerves...

Usually when he had trouble sleeping he would go find...him. No, he was not going to let his mind travel down that self-destructing path. But once thoughts of the man entered his mind it was next to impossible blocking them out. Like a virus, it took over every nook and cranny of his racing mind and tore at his barely stitched up heart.

The whispers continued to chant their intangible tales and Sawyer thought they were coming closer, or at least getting louder. He concentrated and confirmed it. As way of distraction, he tried discerning who the voices belonged to. They were so low he couldn't tell if it was man or women but he got the sense they weren't even human. He shook his head, knocking these stupid ideas out of it. Not human...Yeah right.

All that talk about monsters and ghosts was starting to rub off on him and he didn't like it. Sawyer was a man of reason. He believed it if he saw it and he wasn't yet convinced that this island was anything other than that. A freakish place but just a normal patch of floating earth in the middle of the Atlantic none-the-less.

...Boone...

His eyes flew open and his frame shot up, his body as tense as iron. His fingers automatically grabbed the gun he kept with him at all times. Among all the hush hush he managed to catch that one name and it was so clear, Sawyer was half expecting to come face to face with an intruder under his own roof. But there was nothing but darkness around him.

Forgetting his exhaustion he crawled outside, his frame on the defence, and he threw his head this way and that, looking for the source of the whispers. There was no one on the beach, at least not outside their tents. But the whispers continued to fill the nightly silence.

...Boone...

There it was again! Sawyer was certain he wasn't imagining it. The name was spoken right beside him by some invisible entity because he twisted his body violently in a 360 degree arc but there was no sign of life around his imminent area. Was he freaking out? Yeah...A little. Maybe he was going crazy from the stress of having survived a plane crash, being stuck on god-knew what island, having to make friends with a bunch of strangers and oh, that's right. Battling for his own damn life with the 'Others'! Logically speaking, going insane seemed pretty likely...

...Come this way James...Boone is waiting...

Sawyer froze. Even if he was going Cuckoo-Bananas, he would never call himself by that name. He wasn't James anymore. He was Sawyer. He abandoned his old identity, killed it, forgot it. So whatever hellish thing wanted to piss him off, congratulations. They just succeeded.

The whispers drifted away in the direction of the jungle and, ceased by a blind fury, Sawyer sprinted after it. He didn't call for help. He wasn't thinking straight. He ignored the giant leaves slapping his face as he pushed through and the branches scratching his skin. Yet no matter how hard he ran, he couldn't close the distance between himself and whoever or whatever egged him on.

'Stop running you coward! If you want a damn fight, here I am! Come and face me!' His roaring shout bounced off the surrounding trees, echoing around the dense wilderness. It didn't drown out the whispers though...Somehow the faint noises seemed to be right in his ear and meters away at the same time.

'What do you want from me?!'

...Boone...

Suddenly Sawyer found himself face first in the dirt, blades of grass cutting the skin of his cheek. The whispers stopped, vanished into thin air, and he was left with nothing but a drumming heart and a head full of questions. He rolled onto his back and was surprised to see the night sky clearly, not a tree in the way to block the moon or the starts. Upon closer inspection, Sawyer realized he was in a circular clearing with shockingly soft grass growing at his feet. It was quite beautiful but he didn't give a rat's ass about that. He just wanted to know what the hell just happened.

He got to his feet, stumbling in his crazed haste to stand up, and looked around him with a completely lost expression upon his face. He wasn't even sure how he'd gotten there. He was so focused on catching the damn voices he'd just blindly followed them and now he was god-knew where, alone, with a gun that didn't have any bullets. He wasn't like Kate or Lock. He wasn't a tracker. He was a con man. He stole, lied and tricked people.

...Look down...

Sawyer found himself following the direction without questioning it. He must have been really tired...Something caught his eye, a glint just beside his left foot. The moon seemed to shine right on it, like a stage light cantered on the star of the show. Cautiously, Sawyer bent down and picked up the object.

He opened his fist and felt like the breath was knocked out of his lungs. Someone might as well have taken a shotgun and blown his head off because he wouldn't have noticed, every nerve in his body spontaneously going numb. He stared but he couldn't believe it.

It was a necklace, a thin silver chain with a small, plain cross hanging from it. The surface of the cross was smooth on one side and Sawyer was afraid to turn it over. It couldn't be...After debating with himself for what seemed like an eternity he quickly flipped the silver piece over and sure enough. There it was. Engraved in the metal, in small delicate writing. The name of the owner.

'Boone...' Sawyer's voice sounded alien even to his own ears. It took a minute for him to realize way. He was crying, tears running down his cheeks in thin rivers. Come to think of it, it was the first time he cried since the young man's death. It was the first time he allowed himself to grieve the loss and once that dam broke all the emotions he'd been keeping locked up inside rushed out and drowned him.

His legs gave way and he crashed to the ground, his knees making hard contact with the earth. The exhaustion finally caught up with him and...Darkness.


Sawyer felt a pair of lips pressed against his. A familiar pair of lips. His eyes shot open and he found himself face to face with a dead man walking. Orbs of breath taking blue met his wide eyes and they were soft, and they were real, and they were alive.

'Boone?...' Sawyer's voice betrayed his utter confusion and incredulity. It was some sort of mind trick...It had to be! Dead people did NOT come back to life, no matter how many times one wished for that to happen.

'Yeah. It's me but I don't have a lot of time and I have a lot to say so just be quiet and listen.'

'You can't be here. We buried you three days ago...I was there! You're dead!' Sawyer pushed Boone off of him violently. He reached for his gun but it was missing.

'I know that and I'm still dead. This is not real Sawyer, but it was the only way I could meet you again and I can only do this once.' Sawyer stilled.

'What do you mean, it isn't real? What the hell's going on?!'

'Listen!' Boone rushed at Sawyer once more and pushed him to the ground before the older man could react. He used his body weight to pin him there but Sawyer didn't like being confronted and he was much stronger physically than Boone. Bunching his cording muscles, he pushed himself up and easily reversed their positions. Sawyer was inches away from the other, close enough for his blonde hair to softly caress Boone's cheek.

'You're supposed to be dead...' Boone looked up at him with calm eyes, his lips slightly parted in that way which Sawyer always found so inviting. He let his eyes roam over the face and his breathing became heavier. He was struggling to make sense of a senseless situation. It was impossible yet it somehow came to be.

'I AM dead. I can only come to one person one time and for a short while. Do you want to waste it asking questions I can't answer?'

'What about Sharon? Shouldn't you go to her?'

'I made my choice.' Before Sawyer opened his mouth to say something else and waste even more of their precious time, Boone craned his neck and locked lips with Sawyer. The later had a moment to be hesitant before he gave in. What exactly was he afraid of? This was Boone, not some crazy savage. He conveniently pushed aside all the millions of questions buzzing inside his skull like deranged killer bees.

He pushed Boone all the way into the ground, his mouth eagerly following, while his hands roamed over the familiar folds of his body. The same muscles, the same built, the same youthful heat dancing under his fingertips like wild fire. He would have liked nothing more than to take the time and re-explore every inch of skin but need drove him to crank up the heat.

With surprisingly steady fingers he griped at the hem of Boone's white t-shirt and pulled it up, viciously enough to tear it in the process. The sound of ripped clothes didn't register to the two, their focus directed entirely at the battle waging between their lashing tongues. Sawyer ran his hands down the heaving chest and abdomen, letting one palm rest on Boone's stomach while the other grasped the angular hip.

Boone was also doing some touching of his own. His hands easily moved under the defence of Sawyer's shirt, touching all the right spots. The blonde was the first to break the kiss, darting his eyes at the pesky belt which had to be unbuckled. He regretted not having a knife to simply slice the thing but in less than five seconds Boone was naked before him, tattered pieces of his ruined shirt being carried away by the playful night wind.

Sawyer didn't manage to take more than a second to admire the mouth-watering view before he re-joined his lips with Boone, tasting coconuts on his tongue. The younger man's hands moved along his back to join behind his neck and when Sawyer thrust his hips forwards, causing some much needed friction between their visible needs, he managed to extract the first loud moan of the night. He ground their bodies together, feeling the intense heat rush through him like magma during a volcanic eruption.

'Stop teasing...Not enough time. I want you...' Boone's raspy voice and his deep scarlet blush, stretching all the way down his chest, was the most effective aphrodisiac. Sawyer was a teaser by nature but there was a first time for everything. Before Boone even finished his demand, Sawyer freed himself from the confinement of his trousers and grasped Boone's thighs. The other's legs fell open before him of their own volition, providing a most slutty sight.

'Can you take it dry?'

'Just take me. Now!' Boone wasn't usually so easily riled up and Sawyer found the sight quite cute though he left that image for another night. Right then he had other, more important, things weighing on his mind.

He was inside the constricting tunnel in one smooth thrust. Boone arched his spine and threw back his head, letting the intrusion wash over him. Sawyer remembered the exact angle necessary to draw out the loudest moans out of the younger man and he began moving at a punishing speed from the very beginning, attacking the magic spot with deadly precision every time. Boone's hands grasped the grass around him, tearing the blades from their very roots.

His voice shattered whatever silence remained around the small clearing, increasing in volume as he lost all control over his larynx. Sawyer towered above him and his intense gaze was glued to the younger man's features, committing the pleased expression to memory. His movements were powerful enough to rock Boone's entire body with the motions but the other didn't seem to mind. If anything the slight pain only added to the amazing pleasure.

Suddenly Bonne reached up and grasped at Sawyer's hair, drawing him down so he could feel his tongue against his for the last time. The older man didn't relent his thrusts.

'I love you...' Sawyer's body shivered with the jolting release of his climax. His eyes saw nothing but an explosive white light but his body felt the lust induced pleasure running through him like the strike of lightning.


Sawyer opened his eyes. He was surrounded by absolute silence and the only source of light was the moon hanging overhead. Judging from its position, Sawyer reckoned he couldn't have been out for more than two, three hours but he felt more rested than he'd felt in a long time. Even before his idiotic decision to get on Oceanic Flight 815.

He got up, no longer worried about being lost in the jungle. He felt at peace for once in his life thought he knew it wouldn't last...but at least he could honestly say one wound across his heart was healed and scared over.

Then he realized there was something in his hand. Something he was holding onto with a vice like grip. He opened his clutch and a smirk left his lips. Boone's cross left a print against his skin. He looked at it for a moment before crouching down and digging a small hole, using his bare hands, and placed the chain inside.

'Love you too...'


Thank You for the read! I hope it was good for you and if u can, please leave a review. I'll appreciate it greatly! X3

HAVE A LOVELY DAY!