Part 3
Michael glanced up at Ana sorrow filling his eyes. The gun tight in his grasp.
"I'm sorry." He whispers.
"For what?" A shot echoed off the walls. Michael sprawled across the floor underneath an angry Sawyer, his side aching. Letting himself and Michael up, Sawyer sent a warning glance in his direction.
"Don't hurt her and I won't tell anyone what you're up to. I'll let you do all of it." His expression serious for the first time Michael had noticed. He actually cared about someone. Maybe he was in love, god had he missed a lot by going after the others. What had he done?
"Fine. But ya gotta understand, I only want my boy back." The gun still rested in his hands, finger still automatically lingering on the trigger.
"Michael?" Rapidly spinning around at the voice, Michael's finger slipped, gun erupting into life, two bullets leaving it and lodging themselves inside their host. Libby. Still holding the blankets to her stomach. Her blonde hair falling across her face as her eyes flutter shut. Silence engulfed the room. Michael looked at his work in shock. Terror etching it's way across his face as his hands began to shake.
"You asshole! Look what ya gone and done now. If your gonna make this work, hurry your stupid ass up, let non-Henry out of that armoury and go help her unless you want a dead body on your hands." The commands slipped out of his mouth smoothly. It felt strangely good. Snapping himself out of the trance, he rushed to Ana's side. Her hand rested neatly on her hip, lips parted and eyes tightly closed, yet still, she managed to look as beautiful as ever. Scared to even move, Sawyer raised his hand to her neck, gently feeling for a pulse. Thump, thump, the steady rhythm of her heart, slowing rapidly as the blood seeped out of her body. Her skin still warm under his hand.
He hated to admit it, but he needed jack. Jack could save her. He couldn't, no matter how much he wished he could. Gently gliding his hand down her cheek, he watched her slowly breathing, chest gently rising and falling. He couldn't believe it was really her. Right there in front of him, her life hanging in the balance. He was home. Where he was supposed to be, by her side. He raised his hand to her hair, brushing it swiftly out of her face, letting himself linger there for a second more. Standing up he lightly kissed her forehead before rushing to fetch jack's medical supplies. He had no idea what he was doing, but he couldn't just sit and wait for old jacko to get here. He rummaged through every cupboard he could find, pulling everything out. God he hopped the doc hadn't hidden them from him. The debris on the floor began pilling up. Finally putting his hands on their target he rushed through the pile of obstacles on the floor and rushed back to his girls side.
Not-Henry stalked past, before rushing out of the door, as Michael hurried to Libby's side. Kneeling once more in front of Ana, Sawyer carefully raised her top, revealing a deep bullet wound lodged in her rib cage. Working as fast and gently as he could, he found a pair of tweezers and worked on removing the bullet from her wound. He dropped it hastily to the floor, the metal clashing with a clang. He lifted a cloth to her skin, applying pressure to the wound. Ana began to squirm beneath his touch. He let go, terrified of hurting her more than she was already hurting. Her eyes began to flutter, until open wide. Her dark eyes met his light. One word escaping her lips before she drifted once more into unconsciousness.
"Sawyer."
The door burst open. Slamming against the wall as footsteps approached.
"Sawyer what the heck was all that. . . Oh my god, what happened?"