Sarah Southworth boarded the plane with all the others, feeling as if she was being herded like cattle. Coffee, tea, or moo? She would have smiled at her own little joke, but she was too tired. She managed to cram her carryon in a nearby overhead bin, grabbed a pillow, sat down, buckled up, and promptly fell asleep. The last thing she wanted to do was carry on some inane conversation with a total stranger and the flight from Sydney to Los Angeles was a long one. She needed to use that time to pay back a long overdue sleep loan; she felt as if she hadn't slept in days.
It had been, in fact, almost three days since she had slept and she looked like it. Her normally pressed designer clothes had been replaced with cargo pants and a t-shirt, her hair was in a careless ponytail, and to be honest, she didn't really care at the moment how she looked. When she got the call that HE was in trouble, she boarded a plane for Sydney immediately. It took hours of phone calls and countless forms and endless red tape, but she managed to keep him out of jail and keep him from knowing her involvement in the process. The last thing she needed was for HIM to know that she had saved his skin. All the money in the world wouldn't save her from his wrath if he found out what she had done. That was why as soon as the last form was signed she sped to the airport and got on the first standby flight out of there that she could get, Oceanic 815.
The air was acrid, smoky, hot, salty. There was the whine of an engine, the shriek of ripping metal, the screams of fear, pain, despair. It was sensory overload which is perhaps why Sarah never noticed the pain in her arm or the large gash in it.
What the hell had happened? One minute she was sound asleep and the next, well, the next she was here – wherever here was. She tried to push herself into a sitting position and pain shot through her. "Okay," she thought "let's try that again."
Finally managing to sit upright, she realized that part of her plane was on the beach and that there were relatively few people up and moving. Those that were moving were doing so amidst a chaotic background. From her position she could see everything clearly. One man seemed to be taking charge, taking care of the injured. Many were yelling for loved ones, searching. There were bodies everywhere. She had no idea how many survived, and based on the wreckage, it was a miracle anyone survived at all.
A young man approached Sarah, asking if she needed help. She looked at her arm and then looked at him, saying nothing and fighting the urge to laugh absurdly. Help? Who around here didn't need help? He mumbled something about getting a doctor and walked away.
When the doc finally got around to Sarah, she was starting to feel woozy. She didn't know if it was from the pain in her arm, the heat, the shock of the situation, or all three. Hell, it could have been because there was a gorgeous doc working on her.
"I'm going to have to stitch that up; it's pretty bad. It's going to hurt, but I can't let it stay like that." He turned to the older guy that was with him (Sarah got a glimpse of piercing blue eyes) and asked for his help. That was the last thing she remembered as she blacked out from the pain.
Sarah awoke with a disoriented feeling. The man who had helped the doc was sitting next to her. He smiled and said, "Welcome back."
Back? Back from where? Oh, right. The crash. Her arm. She noticed it was now very crudely bandaged. The man was offering her water which she sipped slowly. "How long was I out?"
"Not long, considering. Is there anything else you need?"
Sarah grinned despite the pain, "A rescue? And your name so I can thank you for staying with me."
"John Locke."
"Sarah Southworth. And now that we have been introduced, thank you." At least she wasn't alone, she thought. John said he needed to check on the other survivors but promised he would be back to check on her again. She was glad. For some reason when he was around she felt a little bit safer.
Night descended too quickly. No rescue was on the horizon, everything was disorganized… it seemed as though the turmoil would never end. John had indeed come back to check on her, moving her to a sheltered spot closer to one of the fires and providing her with a blanket scavenged from the wreckage. She hadn't let anyone take care of her for a long time, and even though she knew he was doing the same for countless others, it still felt nice.
Sarah was just drifting off to sleep when she heard the sounds. They were eerie, loud, mechanical… yet familiar. Something was in the jungle. Something big. Something menacing. Everyone could feel its presence and sense its danger. Sarah suddenly understood the term "paralyzed with fear." No matter how badly she wanted to move, to run, she couldn't budge from her spot. She couldn't even move her eyes from the shaking tree tops.
Finally, she tore her eyes away and looked for a familiar face among the survivors, hoping to catch a glimpse of John. He was there, at the front of the crowd, close to the jungle's edge. He was in a discussion with the doctor and several others who had taken charge that day. Their eyes met for a moment and she hoped he could tell that she needed a few reassurances, albeit empty ones. He started to head her way, and she began to relax a bit. He stopped along the way to talk to several other survivors.
That was when she saw HIM. Of all the planes to be on, and of all the people to come out unscathed, of course it had to be HIM. Surely her eyes were playing tricks on her, but the way her luck had been running, she knew that he was there. She stood up and walked away from everyone, everything. He would be far from thrilled to see her and would question her as to why she was there. He was smart; it wouldn't take him long to figure out that she had been "meddling in his business" as he called it. Then the shit would really hit the fan. The crash, her arm, not being rescued, whatever that thing was out there, none of that was a frightening as facing HIM.
Sarah soon found herself sitting alone on the edge of the trees, watching the surf in the moonlight. The situation was so ludicrous that she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. That was the moment that John Locke startled her out of her reverie and asked, "You okay?"
That was all it took for her to make up her mind to cry. John sat beside her and let her cry, close enough for her to lean on him when she needed to, but no so close as to be intimidating. She needed to lean on him. She needed to feel, for a moment, that everything was going to be okay. She needed to feel the warmth of another human being.
He carefully wrapped his arms around her and held her until she was asleep.
Sarah was right. On their fourth day on the island the shit hit the fan. She knew she couldn't avoid HIM forever. They were, after all, on an island. It wasn't like she had too many places to go to stay out of his sight. She didn't know if it would be worse to face him in front of a crowd or alone, and as luck (bad luck?) would have it, fate made the decision for her.
She had been looking for fruit when he saw her. It took him less time to get to her than she had imagined. She dropped the mangos in a pile at her feet and simply said, "Sawyer."
His anger was evident; she knew by his lack of yelling that he was struggling to keep himself in check. "What the hell are you doing here?" His scowl said more than his words, showed his fury at her supposed betrayal from what seemed like a lifetime ago. She backed into a tree, wishing now that someone else had been around. "No way you just happened to be on the same plane, Sunshine. Life ain't that coincidental. Now tell me, how were you screwing me over this time?"
She wondered if she should tell him the truth and just get it over with. It wasn't like he was going to believe her anyway. He was standing so close that she could feel his breath hot on her face. He continued to interrogate her, demanding to know why she had been in Sydney, why she was on his plane. He grabbed her injured arm and she cried out in pain, begging him to stop and just listen.
It seemed that from out of nowhere John appeared. Eyes that had once seemed kind now looked ominous. "Let her go, Sawyer." The chill in his voice was daunting.
"Well, well, well. The mighty hunter's here to save the day." Sawyer turned back to Sarah and whispered, "It's a big island, Sunshine, but it ain't that big. We'll finish this later." She didn't watch him leave; she kept her eyes focused on John as he walked toward her.
"Want to tell me what that was all about?" She had grown fond of John over the past four days and now she was going to have to explain to him how she knew Sawyer, why he was so furious with her. She simply shook her head. It was more than she could deal with in one day; she didn't want him to hate her the way Sawyer did. He wiped away her tears and replied, "When you get ready to tell me, I'll listen."
Her whispered, "Thank you" was cut short as his lips brushed hers. At first the kiss was hesitant, as if he was unsure as to how she'd respond. Soon it deepened with both passion and tenderness, demanding and yet gentle. Sarah had been kissed plenty of times before but this was different; it was … indescribable. That made it all the more surprising when he abruptly pulled away and told her he would walk her safely back to camp, saying nothing to her along the way.
That night Sarah's sleep was fitful at best. If she wasn't dreaming about Sawyer's wrath, she was dreaming of John's kisses. Neither let her get much sleep.
"I think you should move to the caves." It wasn't going to take much convincing from John to get Sarah to move from the beach. Sawyer was staying on the beach, and for the past 48 hours he had made it perfectly clear to her that she was not welcome there. He was, in fact, making it clear to everyone that he would much rather not be bothered by anyone at all. He was not making any friends and was managing to make a few enemies in the process. Sayid had left because of something that had happened between them. Sarah was nearly positive that the only other person on the island who could tolerate Sawyer was Kate. Kate had him pegged. She also, quite obviously, had a thing for him. Sarah thought, "More power to her. She's gonna need it."
John was continuing, "It's safer there than here on the beach, especially considering the company down here." He nodded toward Sawyer's tent. Sarah agreed to leave the beach and soon found herself moving what little belongings she had to the valley with several of the other survivors at the end of a very long day. She could almost feel Sawyer's eyes boring holes into her back as she walked away with the others. She felt the warmth of John's hand on the small of her back, guiding her way. He was even carrying her duffel for her. HE would never have the consideration to do that; she sighed and shooed all thoughts of him away.
As they entered the caves John and the doctor, Jack, helped everyone find a place to settle in. Sarah found John had placed her small duffel quite a bit away from the others in a small alcove hidden at the back of the caves. There was already a blanket there along with several other items that she recognized as his. She cocked an eyebrow at him in question and he responded with a straightforward, "Logistics. No one ever goes that far back in the caves, and if they do they have to go past several others to get there. It will be easier to keep you safe there." She was hoping for a more personal, more intimate answer (why couldn't he just say, "Because I want you near me"?) but none came. Instead he added, "Why don't you try to get settled in? I've got a few things to take care of." With that he was gone.
Sarah sat down on the blanket and wondered how one "settled in" to a cave on a deserted island with a bunch of strangers around and an ex-lover who would rather see her dead than see her at all. Those around her were also settling in and most everyone was turning in for the night. It wasn't long before she found herself growing tired and she stretched out on the blanket. Who knew when John would be back; he often disappeared for hours at a time, especially if he was hunting.
She didn't know when he finally returned. All she knew was that at some point in the middle of the night she woke up and he was sleeping beside her. She propped herself up on one elbow and studied him in the firelight. He wasn't sexy in the way Sawyer was; Sawyer was the kind of guy that every woman found sexy. It just oozed from his pores, and he knew it. John, on the other hand, was harder to define. Maybe it was the fact that he was older and had more life experience, or perhaps it was the way he wanted to protect her and provide for her. He wasn't the leader, but he was an integral part of the leadership team that had emerged from the survivors. Sarah decided that there was just an undefined quality that he had that she found very attractive.
He must have sensed that he was being watched because he awoke and looked up at her. His automatic response was to ask if she was alright. Instead of answering him with words, Sarah took the opportunity to revisit the kiss they had shared days earlier. Being so remote from the others had advantages other than safety. She leaned down and kissed him, taking him by surprise. Soon the kiss began to grow in intensity, mouths mingling, tongues exploring. Shifting her body so that she was partially laying on him, she began trailing kisses along his jaw line and across his collarbone, her hand roaming across his chest. She relished the feel of him, and was pleased that he wanted her as well.
Later, both satiated, he rested his hand on her hip and softly whispered in her ear, "Sweet dreams, Sarah." She smiled and laced her fingers through his. Sweet dreams indeed.
As she was drifting to sleep she could have sworn she heard him murmur, "Thank you for giving this back to me, too" but it was so faint that she couldn't be certain.
It was late in the morning when Sarah finally awoke, sore but immensely happy; she was pleasantly surprised to find a small flower next to her. She smiled at the memory of the previous night. Where were her panties, anyway? She looked around for them but they were nowhere to be seen.
Most everyone was up and going about their business, and John, as usual, was out hunting. She knew he would be gone for several hours at least. She wondered where he had learned how to hunt. Heck, she wondered how he learned most of the stuff he knew. When it came down to it, all Sarah knew about him was his name and the fact that he was as good in bed as he was at hunting.
She decided to do her part for the group and fill the empty water bottles to take to those on the beach. As soon as she got enough to fill a backpack, she started carrying them down to the beach. She got just outside the caves when the big guy (what was his name? Furley? No, that's was Don Knotts on Three's Company. Hurley! That was it!), Hurley, flagged her down with a, "Yo! Hold up." She stopped and waited patiently as he walked toward her. "Sarah, right? Yeah, Locke said for you to stay here."
"What? Oh, I was just going to take this water down to the others. I'll be right back."
"Um, well, yeah. He said that you needed to stay around the caves for a while, just until he got back, so, um, I'll take that down to the beach for you." He took the backpack from her, obviously not wanting to make Locke upset at him, and headed out before she could protest.
Sarah looked around for something else to keep her occupied but it seemed as if everyone was already doing everything that needed to be done. She ended up just sitting on her blanket, and the longer she sat there the more upset she got. She didn't move to the caves to be a prisoner. She didn't like to be told what to, and she especially didn't like being told what she couldn't do. She started thinking of all the things she was going to tell him and very few of them were nice. He had no right to boss her around like that. Who did he think he was? The thoughts roared though her head as the hours passed. When he didn't return that night, Sarah decided she was going to have it out with him the minute she saw him.
She must have dozed off because she awoke to John's hand caressing her face as the early morning rays seeped through the trees. He was crouching down beside her and smiling that smile. "Hey, sleepyhead." Well crap. Every single thing she was going to tell him flew out the window and was replaced with a simple, "Hey." He was continuing, "Come with me. There's something I want you to see."
John led her to a spot about a half of a mile west of the caves, holding her hand all the way, stroking her thumb with his. They finally arrived at a dense thicket of banyan trees, so dense he had to pull aside the vines so that she could pass through them. What she found when she got past the vines made her catch her breath.
"Do you like it?" He stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to him. In front of her was small area perhaps ten feet in diameter that he had cleared of all the vines and branches, revealing a patch of earth covered in wildflowers. There was a small stream running on one end and by this he had fashioned a makeshift bed softened with leaves and blankets. He had even managed to find a bottle of wine. "I thought it would be nice if we had a place where we could be alone."
"John, it's… it's…." Sarah turned to him, feeling guilty for all the things she had thought earlier. "It's incredible." Suddenly she wanted him more than she had ever wanted anyone. She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him into a kiss. As their kisses grew in urgency, he scooped her up and carried her to the bed he had made for them.
They spent the afternoon alternating between dozing and making love. Miraculously each time was somehow better than the one before. For a man his age, his sexual appetite rivaled that of a college kid. It was as if he hadn't been with anyone in ages, yet his skill proved that he was very familiar with the female form. At the end of the day Sarah wondered how she would ever be able to walk back to camp again. Hell, she wondered if she would be able to walk again, period.
John must have read her mind, at least about the camp part, because he said, "We should be heading back. We don't want them sending out a search party for us." As she dressed she sighed in both pleasure and disappointment; she didn't want to head back. John pushed the banyan vines away so that they could leave their hideaway for another day.
When they got just a little way off from their secret place, they were both taken by surprise by a very recognizable Southern drawl, "Well now, what do we have here? Mr. Clean and the devil herself making a little jungle love?" Sawyer was leaning against a tree, smirking as he looked at Sarah. "You look plumb wore out, Sunshine. Can't say that I ever saw you look quite like that before. I'd've thought you'd have gone for someone a bit younger, myself."
John stiffened at Sawyer's intrusion, and Sarah wondered how long he had been there, what he had seen and heard. She held on to John's hand. The last thing she wanted was for the two of them to get in to some sort of fight. She could tell from Sawyer's stance that he was just there to be antagonizing; he wasn't interested in fighting. All he wanted was to make her miserable, and he was being successful at it. He was still talking; damn jackass didn't know when to shut up. "Now don't go getting your panties in a wad, Sunshine. Oh, speaking of…." He reached in his pocket and pulled out the panties that John had divested her of the night before, dangling them in front of her, taunting them both. He tossed them to Sarah with a knowing grin. "Thought you might need these." He turned and walked away slowly, whistling a vaguely familiar Steve Miller tune as he headed for the beach.
Sarah let go of John's hand and chased after him. "Sawyer, wait. Damn it, wait!" He finally stopped, giving her the coldest look she had ever seen. "What do you want from me? An apology? Is that it? Fine. I'm sorry I flew to Sydney to help you. I'm sorry I kept your ass out of jail. I'm sorry I slept with Hibbs so that he wouldn't kill you because you screwed up in Tampa. Yes, James, I slept with him but I did it because I was trying to protect you." She felt the tears burning her eyes and she realized that John was hearing her confessions. "I'm sorry that I ever believed I wasn't one of your marks and that you weren't grifting me and that you really cared for me. I'm sorry I couldn't be your perfect con. I'm sorry," Her tears were flowing now as her voice grew louder with emotion, "that I ever fell in love with you. I'm sorry I gave you my heart and soul. I'm sorry that you broke my heart and that now I don't trust anyone with it. I'm sorry…." Her voice faded away to nothing.
Sawyer looked at her, his expression still unfeeling, and said, "Consider us even." And with that he was gone. No explanation, no nothing. Sarah stood there shocked by the turn of events. It was all just so surreal.
When she finally looked around, John was gone as well. As she walked back to the caves she kept telling herself what an idiot she was for ever going to Sydney in the first place. She should have let Sawyer rot in jail and then none of this would have happened. She wouldn't be trapped on some island with … with… with who? With Sawyer? With John? She couldn't trust Sawyer anymore; couldn't trust herself with him, couldn't trust her heart with him. And John? While the sex was out of this world fantastic (she felt her knees getting weak just thinking about it, about him and the way he had… shit, she had to stop thinking about that), how did she know if she could give her heart to him when she didn't even really know him? It was ridiculous to think that she could fall for someone she didn't even know. Wasn't it?
She was able to pull herself together enough to not have people ask too many questions. She muttered something about a migraine to anyone who asked and made her way back to the blanket she and John shared. He was no where to be seen. She didn't have the energy to go look for him. He probably didn't want to see her anyway. After all, he had just heard her admit to Sawyer that even though she had been in love with him she had slept with someone else, that he had broken her heart, that she didn't think she could ever trust anyone again. Why would he want to be with her? She had too much baggage and he had enough to deal with just surviving in this God-forsaken place. Maybe she should just move back to the beach now and save him the trouble of asking her to leave. Of course it wasn't going to be any better there. That's where Sawyer was and he didn't want her any more than John probably did. Shit, now she really was getting a migraine. She gathered up her paltry belongings, took a few things from Jack's medicinal stash, shoved them in a duffel bag, and went to the only place she could think of. No one would look for her there because no one knew it existed, and the one man that knew about it, well, she was fairly certain that John wouldn't go looking for her anytime soon.
Because she didn't look back, she never noticed the piercing blue eyes follow at her from just outside the cave's entrance. If she had, she would have been able to warn Sawyer about Locke.
"Let's see," Sarah thought out loud, "where should I place the lamp? Hmmm, how about here?" She chose a spot near the stream and started building a fire. "Not too shabby for a studio apartment. Not much view to speak of, and the furnishings suck, and it's a hell of a walk to the corner store, but the neighbors sure are quiet." She would have laughed at her own joke but it was just too pathetic. She found barely touched bottle of wine that she and John had shared earlier that day; they had been too preoccupied with other things to worry about the wine.
She sat back against a tree near the fire and started drowning her troubles; before she knew it she had polished off the bottle of wine and finished off all the liquor she had stolen from Jack. "Not bad; Australia makes some mighty fine wines. Too bad John and I didn't get to…." Her thoughts grew fuzzy as the alcohol began to take its effect. She closed her eyes and let the numbness take over her body, her brain. That must have been why she was hearing things, hearing John's voice ask her, "Didn't get to what?" She knew he wasn't there, wouldn't ever be there; that's why she never opened her eyes. She decided to play along with the fantasy in her mind, "Have a chance. He'd never understand, you know."
Her fantasy spoke again, "He might. If you gave him a chance."
She laughed bitterly. "Riiiiight. He'd get why I had to sleep with that vile Hibbs, why I gave my body to someone I hated, why I let him do things to me that no one... Hell, Sawyer didn't get it and it was for him. I knew he didn't have the money to pay Hibbs back, knew that Hibbs would kill him as soon as look at him. That was why I went there and begged for his life. Begged! Can you believe it? I groveled like some street urchin, begging for his life." She was crying again, and now that the confession had started she couldn't stop herself. It was word vomit and nothing could stop her and she was glad she was alone and that the jungle was her only witness. She drew her knees up to her body and wrapped her arms around them. "And then Hibbs, the bastard, gave him photos of us together and told him that I had betrayed him. He never even let me explain. He just packed my stuff and tossed me out on the street like I was garbage, telling me that I belonged out there with the trash and that he never even loved… that it was all a game, a con…. How could John possibly understand any of it? Why would he want yesterday's garbage? Why would he ever trust me, knowing what I did?"
"Because he knew you had your reasons. Because you did what you had to do to save someone's life, someone you cared for. Because he understands what it means to do anything, anything necessary to save the life of someone you love. Because on this island, in this place, who we were before, what we did before, doesn't matter anymore. Because everyone deserves a second chance, Sarah."
Okay, since when did her imagination start making sense? And when did she refer to herself by her own name? She opened her eyes and tried to focus on the fire that was slowly dying. Instead she saw that John was there, just on the other side of the glowing embers, watching her. Great, now she was hallucinating. Stupid alcohol. She mumbled, "You aren't really here. I've just had way too much to drink and it's been a really trying week. If you really were here, which I doubt you ever would be, you'd sure as hell not be talking about second chances but would be demanding to know why I…"
Suddenly her phantasm made its way to her and pulled her to her feet, "I am here, Sarah. And I do understand the sacrifice that you made for Sawyer. He couldn't understand because he has never had to do that. He's never sacrificed a part of himself only to be betrayed by someone whom he thought loved him." He tilted her head up so that she was looking into eyes that showed a hurt they both shared. "I've been there, Sarah. I've made that sacrifice. I've been betrayed. We're a lot alike, you and I."
to be continued? missing content available at