Author's Note: Just a rough Sawyer/Sayid drabble. Angst will ensue without a doubt. Based on "One of Us" because if you didn't get any Sawyer/Sayid sexual tension in that episode...I don't even know how you could not see any sexual tension in that episode. Most likely will stay a one-shot, but if inspiration strikes, I might add on. Reviews and Comments always welcome
Peace, Love, ALLONS-Y!
The click of the door being turned and the proceeding creak drew Sayid's attention away from the spot on the wall he had been drilling holes into with his eyes, as if staring long enough could bring him out of his cage and into freedom. Expecting a stranger in the usual drab Dharma jumpsuits coming to drill more questions, Sayid almost took a double take when he saw the tall man stroll into the room. If he hadn't been so numb and dead to the world on the inside, he might have smiled. Instead, he just gave another blank stare, not letting the man see his emotions, rusty and covered in a fine layer of dust, begin to awaken.
"How you doin'?" he asked in his usual Southern drawl, but this time his voice held actual concern, not the sarcastic passing comment. Sayid looked at the man on the other side of the prison bars. His longer hair was much more well-kept than when they had first met. He barely even had the beard he had once sported. He had changed. They both had. The concern in Sawyer's eyes was met with his own, dead gaze.
"A twelve-year-old Ben Linus brought me a chicken salad sandwich. How do you think I'm doing?" he asked with his own accent, skirting his true answer to the question. He didn't talk about the relief he was feeling. How he hadn't seen the sulking Southerner in three years, and to know he was okay brought him both joy and pain. How he had tried to move on, had even married Nadia, just to escape the emptiness that had crept into his heart and rooted itself inside of him ever since Sawyer jumped out of their helicopter. And now he was here again, alive and well, with only prison bars separating them.
"Sweet kid, huh?" Sawyer asked, voice laced with sarcasm. Sayid noticed he hadn't lost his ability to make quips and witty remarks. His joke reminded him of the one other thing that made Sayid's emotions stir: Benjamin Linus. The man, or kid now he supposed, made rage surface inside him, the one emotion that he practiced on a regular basis.
"How can you live with him here?" he growled, confused by Sawyer's unwillingness to take action against the devil. It would make sense that if they killed Ben now, he would never grow up to be horror of a person he became. Ben would never be able to turn Sayid into his own personal assassin. If there was one thing Sayid wished he could change, it was his three years of cold-hearted killing. In the war it had been for a cause. But those three years, it was just Ben using him like a pawn, manipulating his emotions. Eventually he had just shut them off, and they were just now beginning to rustle again.
Sawyer whipped out a set of keys and Sayid froze. He was going to remove the barrier separating the two, and although his emotions were still foreign and newly-awakened, they were starting to grow. He could remember how he used to feel about the man flipping through the keys. How he could feel again, if he didn't shut himself down again. He wasn't sure if he wanted to feel again. All he knew was that the cold metal bars were about the only thing that was keeping him from walking up to Sawyer and crushing his own lips against the taller man's smooth ones.
"'Cause I ain't got a choice," Sawyer responded, almost angry. The answer seemed so simple, but crushed something inside Sayid. There was always a choice.
"Is that so?" He thought back to all of the choices Sawyer had made. To call him a terrorist, blame him for the plane crash. To pretend he had Shannon's inhaler. To let Sayid torture him. That memory always made Sayid feel sick. He had told himself he never would do such things again. But Jack had been able to use him; he had become the dark diplomat of the island. Sawyer's yelps of pain still haunted Sayid in his sleep, more so than any of his other victims during the war.
Sawyer had always had a choice. He chose to hide his dark past, even though everyone saw the pain in his eyes. He chose to be the gallivanting hero without taking the credit, often hiding it by also becoming the group's antagonist.
He chose to leave Sayid the moment he jumped out of the helicopter.
Sayid stared into Sawyer's eyes, begging him to answer the question that had been gnawing on his insides for three years. Why did you leave me?
"See how you feel after living three years in the 70s," Sawyer replied, dodging Sayid's pleading question. Sayid felt something he hadn't in a while: frustration. It was an emotion that he had experienced often around Sawyer. He remembered the first day on the beach, when they had gotten into a physical altercation. Fists, legs, elbows, limbs flying everywhere. There was nothing but anger that day. Pure, passionate anger. But over time, passionate anger had turned into passionate desire. They kept up their facades, displaying a show for the other islanders, and even each other. But every once in a while, a stray hand during a tussle would caress a cheek or twirl a bit of hair. It was subtle, but they both understood what was happening, always dodging the truth.
With a click that felt like thunder to Sayid, a key was inserted into the lock on his cell door. Here it comes, he thought. The moment of truth. He braced himself, tensing every muscle in his body, even clenching his jaw, trying to stay composed. He would not move. He wouldn't let himself.
"Lucky for you I spent that time getting myself into a position to save your ass," Sawyer commented, before turning the key and opening the door. Sayid gazed at the man with a mix of wonder and confusion. Why was he opening the cell door? Most importantly though, would Sayid be able to hold himself back.
Stepping inside, Sawyer looked back at Sayid with the pain and regret Sayid had become used to over the days spent on the island with him. He sure did have a chip on his shoulder. Sayid wanted to ask what was wrong, but he held himself back.
"I'm sorry Sayid," Sawyer half-whispered, voice filled with remorse. Sayid tried to understand what he was saying. What was he sorry for? Leaving him alone in the real world? For never admitting his true feelings? Sayid tried to discern what exactly it was Sawyer was apologizing for. The two men stared into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity, neither willing to make any move to display
emotion.
Then Sawyer's fist struck like lightning, hitting Sayid squarely on the nose. Lurching back, Sayid fell against the wall that he hadn't noticed drifting away from. His hands instinctively reached to cover his face, protecting himself from any more blows. It hurt. Not only physically, but emotionally as well. Sayid realized he was relishing the pain though. He had really felt something, and after three years being numb to everything, he had felt something.
He grabbed Sawyer, his new pent up emotions taking the better of him.
"What are you doing!?" he demanded, voice low and throaty. The fist had come out of nowhere, just like their first days on the island when they would tussle for almost no reason, if not just to be near each other. This time though, there was no one to put a show on for.
"I'm gonna tell them I got your confession, I need them to believe that you didn't give it up easy," Sawyer explained, regret painted all over his face. Sayid felt a little guilty for reacting so angrily, but he was enjoying his emotions taking over too much to apologize.
"What confession?" Sayid was truly confused now. What was Sawyer talking about? And did he not know that Sayid would never 'confess'? It was fairly hard to get information out of a torturer.
"We're going to say you were trying to defect, you were gonna offer some intel on the others in exchange for living with us," Sawyer elaborated, voice edged with anger as it so often was when he was with Sayid. It sounded tempting, being able to live with Sawyer, but he was not willing to give in so easily.
"And why in God's name would I want to do that?" he demanded, searching Sawyer's eyes once more. Just admit it, he pleaded with him. You want me.
"What the hell else am I supposed to do with you?" Sawyer hissed. The words felt like a slap to Sayid, as if he was a nuisance, something that had to be dealt with. The words motivated Sayid to give Sawyer an ultimatum. He was sick of skirting across their real attraction. They would either admit their feelings, or Sayid would leave. Granted, it might be a little difficult with his holding cell, but there were more than physical ways of leaving.
"Let me go," Sayid pleaded. Not just out of the prison bars and into the jungle, but out of Sawyer's alluring grasp. He wanted to be free again, free from Sawyer's ensnaring looks and abusive kicks and punches. If he wasn't going to admit that he wanted Sayid, Sayid could not, would not, put himself through the pain of seeing the tall man every day. He had tried to move on without closure. Now he knew if he wasn't to have Sawyer, he at least wanted a decisive no.
"And then what? I can't just let you go," Sawyer replied, seeming torn again.
"Why not?" Sayid implored. Stop playing this game of cat and mouse, Sawyer. Let's talk about the elephant in the room. The mixed signals were tugging at Sayid's heart. All he wanted was a definitive answer; did Sawyer want him in his life or not?
His dark chocolate eyes probed Sawyer's blue ones. They reminded Sayid of the ocean just off of their original camp. Beautiful but dangerous.
"'Cause these people trust me. I 've built a life here, and a pretty good one. I let you go, all that goes away. So you got yourself a choice, chief. Either you cooperate and join the party in Dharmaville, or you're on your own." Sawyer's words hurt Sayid once again. "I've built a life here, and a pretty good one." A life without Sayid. The implications of the reply were clear. Sawyer didn't want Sayid, he had moved on. And so would Sayid. He felt his heart smash into a thousand pieces as he replied.
"Then I guess I'm on my own."