Title: Insomnia

Setting: This takes place during "The Hunting Party." Read and you'll get the timeline at the end. It's all cool like that.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. Except the writing.

Teh chitchat: Hello! Some of you might remember me. I haven't died. Just been lazy. And last night, I was hyperly bored when I remembered I had this idea sitting in a document, so I took it out and finished it. Before anyone starts screaming, I haven't ditched my WIP, Manhunt. It shall get back on track shortly. And 'til then, I'll probably be writing more one-shots, because - again - they own the world. Not cheese, though.

The writing style of this 'fic is kinda weird. It's almost a character study of sorts in the beginning, and then it's just mindless fun. Never wrote anything like this, because I'm a lazy ass, but yeah. I dunno. Enjoy

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"If I am dreaming, let me never awake. If I am awake, let me never sleep."
- Chinese Proverb

---

Sawyer liked routines.

He liked when things had a rhythm. A plan.

It made him feel safe. Secure. On top of the situation, no matter what that situation was.

So when his sleeping schedule had been completely screwed over as of late, he wasn't a happy camper.

While this in and of itself wasn't some drastic, Earth-shattering event, it irked him to no end. Especially now that he was recovering from a bullet wound and his activities were limited. He liked to think there'd always be something constant in his life, even if it was just when he went to sleep.

The shift from the States to Australia had been the initial jolt in his snooze system. God, how he despised time zones. An hour or two difference from one American border to another was bad enough. Or so he'd thought.

After the crash, most people had settled into their own personal patterns. Some slept like clockwork, either from dusk to dawn, or from a random point set in the middle of the night right into the midday, or from early in the evening 'til before the sun began to rise.

Sawyer had fallen into the pool of folks who slept whenever they felt the need to. Thus, a demented sort of new routine had been set, just like that. He took comfort in it for a few short weeks, and then, like everything else in his life, it went to hell.

A consistency among the castaways was that most laid low during the nighttime hours. Sawyer, however, relished the darkness. Or he used to relish it, back in the real world. It was the time when everything came alive.

Here, on the island, the "dead of the night" was just that. Dead.

And tonight, for the first time in who knew how long, as Sawyer sat wide awake in his airplane chair, gazing lazily across the starry sky, he desperately wished he could just fall asleep.

But he really couldn't.

His wound stung steadily underneath its bandages, sending uncomfortable waves of pain throughout his body every few seconds. That's what he got for playing a good guy, huh? He should've known better.

He tapped his foot against the moist sand and let out a sigh. He felt like running, which was odd, seeing as he was never much of a runner. Not that he could now, given his condition, but still. He needed to move. Somehow, somewhere.

A cool breeze tickled his bare chest and he growled in agitation. Restlessness was something he never dealt with well. He wasn't about to start trying now.

Snatching his cotton T-shirt off the ground, he pushed himself up with a groan. His eyes flickered down the coast, where the local tents stood still and silent against the night.

Where to go?

Another breeze struck him from the tree line, and Sawyer felt goose bumps running along his skin. As he shrugged his shirt on, he turned and regarded the dark jungle before making his decision.

Vincent lifted a sleepy eyelid from his resting spot by Sun and Jin's tent, watching Sawyer disappear into the woods before yawning and closing his eyes again.

---

Although a path had been clearly marked from the beach all the way to the hatch's main entrance, it was still quite easy to get lost, especially during the night.

Sawyer had a flashlight stashed somewhere in his tent, but he'd chosen against bringing it along. The full moon casted a soft glow through the trees, allowing him to see enough to get by just fine, thank you.

Anyway, he'd already set the route to memory. It was all in the details. A football-sized rock told him to turn left. A mossy log, propped against a low branch, signaled ten feet straight before a right turn. He'd taken all this in on his first walk back to the beach after he'd woken up in the hatch. Now, his feet did the walking without so much as an afterthought.

The only thing that went through his mind currently was that he wanted a cigarette. Badly.

Something creaked up ahead and Sawyer slowed down. He was close now, and he suddenly realized he hadn't come up with a valid excuse for going to the hatch in the first place. In truth, he'd just wanted to take a walk, and this seemed like the best end point. But, of course, there was going to be people inside, on that blasted button shift of theirs, so he'd be forced to muster up a word or two to whoever the lucky pair was.

Another pair of footsteps, more rushed than his own, started up ahead. Before Sawyer could do much about it, a body collided with his own.

"Damn it."

Sawyer let out a noise of amused relief as Kate stepped back and glared at him.

"What the hell are you doing all the way out here, Sawyer?"

He ignored the question, eyeing her carefully. She wasn't in a friendly mood. This was going to be fun.

"You and the doc have another fight?" He flashed her a smile as he regarded her through the moonlight that leaked past the tree tops. He could practically hear her rolling her eyes. He loved messing with her and they both knew it.

"I just stepped out for some air. Not that it's any of your business. Why are you here?"

Again, he avoided the question and instead took a step forward. The past few days, they'd been unusually nice with one another. Tonight, however, it felt oddly like old times. Banter and sarcasm masking raw need.

"What'd he do tonight to drive ya over the line?" Sawyer continued, his voice low. "Question all the time you been spendin' with me?" Another step. "Ask for advice 'bout his new girlfriend?" Kate crossed her arms over her chest but stood her ground. "Decide you ain't grown up enough to push that damn button if you refuse to push his own?"

Kate laughed drily before shaking her head. She was the one to take the next step, lifting her chin to stare at him dead on before speaking.

"Fuck you, Sawyer."

He narrowed his eyes and closed the gap between them, completely invading her personal space.

"By all means," he whispered coarsely. "Go ahead."

Sure that he'd taken it too far, Sawyer braced himself for a kick in the shin or an elbow to the gut. But neither came.

They stood there, staring one another down, tension and electricity cracking in the air between them. Then, Kate leaned towards him and he caught her around the waist, pulling her body into his own. He took a moment to admire how perfectly they fit against one another. Somehow, he'd always imaged it'd work out like this, and a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips at the confirmation.

Kate lifted an eyebrow, questioning him without words. His mouth started to open, a cocky remark already on the tip of his tongue, but he never got to use it.

She kissed him. Slow but sudden, all the same. He flashed back to their first kiss for a second, but her solid warmth pressed up against him didn't allow his mind to wander for long. He kissed back.

Kate's hands had landed on his arms at some point, without either of them acknowledging it. They trailed over his biceps before moving up to his neck, digging into the soft hair at the base. His grip tightened as his own hands snaked all the way around her waist, a hold that seemed powerful enough to break any other girl.

Luckily for them both, Kate wasn't like any other girl.

She broke the kiss, but not the contact of their bodies. Instantly, her lips moved across his cheek and down his neck. Sawyer growled deep in his throat, closing his eyes. He realized that he was holding them both up just as his grip started slipping. They stumbled and Kate gasped into his collarbone as the rough bark of a tree bore into her spine the next moment. She pulled her head back and Sawyer gazed down at her, the hungry lust in his eyes mirroring that in her own.

He dove in for the next kiss and she moved her hands from around his neck down to the helm of his jeans. Her fingers brushed against the cool skin beneath his shirt, sending chills through both their bodies. Sawyer's hands were rested on her hips, letting her do most of the work. It wasn't his style, but routine be damned this one time.

He was acutely aware of the jungle noises around them; the leaves swishing as the low wind traveled over the treetops, the group of crickets chirping a few yards off in the shadows, the twigs crunching underneath their shoes as their bodies grinded.

Kate slid his shirt off before he'd even realized she'd begun unbuttoning it.

He hissed into her mouth at the sudden cold. As her hands lurked up his chest, providing a drastic contrast of warmth, the hiss turned into a dull moan.

They broke off the second kiss before they risked passing out. Mist rose as they caught their breaths shakily. Sawyer would've wondered why it was suddenly so cold out, but frankly he couldn't care less at the moment. All that mattered was that he was here, with Kate, and that her fingers were currently tugging at his zipper.

"Always knew you were..." Kate lifted a finger to his lips and hushed him.

"Don't talk," she ordered, and he stared helplessly into the dark green of her eyes before she lowered them again. He suddenly found their positions reversed. The tree behind him dug at his skin as he tried to figure out exactly who'd made the switch.

Again, his thoughts melted away as Kate hoisted herself up, managing to wrap her legs around him as he flipped them over again. He was positive that they were defying some law of physics here. He'd have to mull it over later.

He buried his face in her hair as she went to work leaving kisses along his wounded shoulder. In the back of his mind, Sawyer wondered why it didn't seem to hurt him the least bit, but again... Who gave a shit?

He closed his eyes once again. "Damn, Freckles..."

He thought he felt Kate tense for a second, but maybe he was just imagining it.

When she paused, her lips resting idly on his skin, he knew he wasn't.

"There a problem?" He spoke into her ear before pulling back to regard her curiously. Kate held his gaze, cursing herself for caring about the fact that he couldn't even say her real name during such an intimate moment.

Then, she realized she didn't even know his real name, and the anger was replaced by something deeper. Darker.

Before either of them could make the next move, they heard a pitched sound behind them. Light spilled onto the jungle floor as they squinted their eyes towards the silhouetted man standing to the side.

"Kate?" Jack's voice was a steady mixture of shock, disbelief and anger. Sawyer felt like laughing but he couldn't find the strength to. Now this was perfect.

A tense silence fell over them as Kate tore herself away from Sawyer. He pulled up his zipper and sighed before glancing towards Jack.

"Hey, doc." He chimed with forced cheeriness, but their humble leader looked anything but amused. The man stepped towards him and Sawyer knew what was coming even before he saw the doc's hand clench into a fist.

Something landed on his chest, below his left shoulder, but it wasn't a punch. Sawyer jerked awake and blinked against the dull morning light.

"Morning."

His hand went to retrieve the object that'd landed on him as the familiar voice accompanied the steady footsteps making their way over to his tent. He looked down at the banana he was now holding before glancing up at Kate's hovering figure.

"Did you just throw a banana at me?" The sentence sounded absurd, even to him, but to hell with it. His mind was still a blur.

Kate's hands were set on her hips as she replied coolly. "Couldn't find any rocks." She wasn't exactly smiling, but Sawyer could easily detected the playful tone in her voice. Slowly, everything made sense. He chuckled despite himself.

It was just a dream.

"There are nicer ways to wake a man up, Freckles," he stated suggestively.

If only she knew.

End.