Sawyer was walking along the streets, passing off the bars he used to stop at normally ; but he wasn't in a mood to drink. Or actually he was in a very good mood to drink, too good to even have a glass of scotch, and God knew he needed that glass.
He felt angry for what had happened to Kate; he couldn't blame anyone but himself for what she felt and it was driving him mad. He wouldn't do her any harm, never, but the situation felt somehow wrong to him. In some way, he had been wanting her for so long that having her had broken the dream.
-That night was perfect, he muttered for himself. Why can't you just leave your goddamn shitty life and be with her?
That was the point; his goddamn shitty life sucked, he knew it, but it was freedom. And he wasn't ready to lose a little bit of this precious freedom his life was made of.
He was passing by the sixth bar of the night when he stopped. One glass, only one. Scotch could do nothing but good to him. Lighting a cigarette, he entered the bar.
It was about 11PM and Kate was sitting in a bar, emptying glasses of tequila one by one. She would stay there till the sunrise, or till she has nothing more to pay. She felt somehow wrong in this place, burying her problems into alcohol; but she knew if she got back home, she would drown them into her tears and end up in the morning wanting to kill herself. Not the best way.
-Tequila's too harsh for a beautiful woman like you; let me pay you a martini.
She turned her head and saw the man who had just talked to her; he looked a bit like James Bond, a charming, nice, elegant man but whose only will is to get you in his bed.
-I'd be glad to accept, she replied smiling.
-Great!
Twenty minutes later she was completely drunk, lying in his arms and smiling to every word he said. They had moved to some less populated place in the bar, where fat old odd men were sleeping on the tables, blind drunks.
He was whispering words in her ear, words she couldn't even understand but which sounded sweet to her, too sweet; she felt his lips madding their way along her neck till they reach her mouth; she felt his hands travelling across her breasts down to her belt; and suddenly she realised. Realised that he was going to take her right there.
His hands were hot but felt so cold against her skin; his tongue was sweet but felt so harsh against her lips; his arms were strong and she felt so weak, so helpless. She tried to push him away but all she managed to do was moving his mouth away from hers; she screamed as loud as she could.
He smashed her against the wall and shut her up with another hard kiss. She felt like he was taking her energy away with this kiss. She was praying her soul out to faint and not wake up when felt the pressure on her body release. She slipped silently against the wall, watching Sawyer beat the man. Blood was gushing out on the floor because the man was now lying there with Sawyer still kicking him; he only stopped when his victim fell unconscious. Then he turned back to Kate.
She was lying against the wall, tears wetting her face, hands shaking. He approached, raised her in his arms; she didn't say anything, he took her out of the bar.
-Where you following me? she murmured once they were outside.
-No, he replied. 'Was about to have a drink when I heard you scream.
-Can you... can you put me down please? she asked.
He obeyed silently, but once she was on her feet, her legs were shaking so much she almost fell down. She grabbed his hand.
-Bring me home.
He nodded and they started walking. Passing by the police station, Kate thanked the someone-up-there because all the lights were turned off. Sawyer tore a "wanted Kate Austen" paper away and put it in his pocket.
-For my fire, he smirked.
She returned a weak smile. The stars led them to her flat, Sawyer led her to the sofa before disappearing into the night he came from; he knew tomorrow she would be mad at him again, so as walking along the streets he tried to remember the sweet feeling of her hand in his.
Around midnight, Jack was about to leave the hospital – finally – when an unconscious man in quite a bad state arrived at the urgencies. Sighing, he took a look at his patient: blood all over his face and shirt, nose broken...
-A fight in a bar, commented a nurse. The other one wasn't drunk apparently, that must explain why this one is in such a bad state.
Jack nodded and then bent over his patient.
-You're a fucking asshole, man, he whispered. Next time be sure you fight with someone as drunk as you are.
The nurse gave him a shocked, dizzy look. Since when did the brilliant doctor Shepard speak to his fainted patients? And since when did he insult them?
-Let's go, he said.
Kate fell asleep in the meantime, lying drunk and whole dressed on her sofa.
Jack fell asleep around 2AM, when he finally got home.
Sawyer didn't fell asleep.