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Now, I know this isn't the biggest chapter in the world, but I felt like posting it. You are awesome readers, and I wanted to give you another post as soon as possible for you guys.

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Chapter Four.

Yasmine bit her cheek in frustration, her fists clenching as she tried to contain her anger. She managed to restrain her anger, only kicking the sand angrily and cursing a bit. She had controlled herself from smacking Sawyer to a pulp, giving him nothing but a nasty look and an even nastier hand gesture.

She couldn't believe him. She knew he could be an asshole, a jerk, and very arrogant, but she thought he had at least some respect.

So when Jack complained to her about how Sawyer was goofing around in the fuselage, searching through the dead bodies looking for stuff, saying it was her job to control him since they seemed to get along so much, she was pretty pissed. Since when was she is charge of damn Sawyer's actions?

And why would Sawyer do such a horrible thing? She watched him parade out of the fuselage, his hands carried several bottles of liquor and what she assumed was a playboy magazine. At first when she saw them she laughed, thinking how hilarious it was that on the island the things most important to him were boobs and beer. Then when she found out he had taken them from the fuselage, from dead people, who should be respected, well, she had gotten a little pissed.

And her bad mood wasn't helped by the sounds of the still wailing marshal or the sudden downpour that just happened to strike on her bad mood.

Yasmine had thought about what to do, and figured she had three options.

1. Confront Sawyer, face to face, and yell at him until her lungs hurt and he's so afraid he shit his pants.

2. Spend her time helping Jack with the marshal, apologizing on behalf of Sawyer's nature (although she had no idea why she had to in the first place, god damnit), and try to see if she could help Jack bandage him or bring him medicine.

3. Go to sleep.

Yasmine was striving for the third option. Ever since those dreams, Yasmine had taken to having long naps in the afternoon each day, just so she can once again see those eyes. She would have three to four hour naps, making Jack and the others worried. Jack seemed to think she had some sleeping problem or something. She really hoped that the pictures in her dreams would enlarge, making her see the full image or at least more of his face. She couldn't see him, but she could now feel him, his arms enclosing around her waist and hands running up her arm. If she thought really hard, she could still feel it, and the goose bumps would come again.

She sighed, deciding to go for the second option. She wasn't in the mood to deal with Sawyer, and it definitely sounded like Jack needed some help in the tent.

Yasmine looked up at the sky, upset that it had started raining again and ran over to Jack's tent, trying to escape the rain. She got in, only a little wet, and Jack looked up at her. She looked down at the man, who's screaming only seemed to increase, and then stared at Jack, waiting for some instructions.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, looking through a bag of medicine. She sighed, kneeling down and looking at the medicine containers as well.

"What are you looking for?" she asked, ignoring his question. She found several containers of Advil, some cough medicine, and other prescriptions that she didn't understand.

"I'm looking for stronger antibiotics for the marshal," he told her, his large brown eyes searching for the right medicine, "And you failed to answer my question."

She looked up at him, his eyes searching hers as she sighed, "I was bored, and I thought you might have needed help."

Jack nodded, his hands wandering over the containers, picking them up now and again, reading them, then putting them back down, "Well, at least you're not sleeping," he noted, and she flinched, "Which, by the way, we are going to have a serious talking about."

Yasmine shrugged, looking down nonchalantly, "What's wrong with sleeping." she asked, ignoring the fact that she had taken to sleeping around 18 hours a day. He shook his head.

"Yasmine, you've been sleeping way too often. I'm starting to get worried about you," he said, "You're not taking sleeping pills or any sedatives, are you?"

She looked at him, shocked, trying to find out if he was kidding and had some sick, dark sense of humor. She found him completely serious though, studying her. She shook her head wildly, her black curls swinging around her head, "No! Jack, of course I'm not, how could you ever think such a thing?" she asked.

He shrugged, looking at her one more time then back to the medicine, "Well, you're a teenage girl, stuck on an island meeting new people who you've never met before, and are probably a bit frightened." he explained his theory, "It makes sense that you would want to take sleeping pills, but I just want to make sure that you aren't. Because drugs are never the answer, Yasmine, and—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, stop right there, doc," she said, using Sawyer's little nickname for him, "I already told you that I'm not using anything, okay? I just…like going to sleep, recently. So will you just calm down, dad?" she put in sarcastically.

He looked up, chuckled, then sighed, "You should get out of here, Yasmine. This isn't where you should be right now." he said. She rolled her eyes, but got up anyways, strolling out the tent and onto the white, sandy beach.

She stopped, narrowing her eyebrows, and looking up at the sky. "What the fuck." she stated, putting her arms on her hips, "When the hell did it stop raining?" she said out loud, to nobody in particular.

"About two minutes ago," came a voice, and she looked a little bit away and found Locke, sitting next to Charlie, whittling something, "Nice to see you awake." Locke noted.

She ignored the sleeping comment, cocked an eyebrow, and walked over, sitting next to the two, "So is this what it's going to be like? Having end of the world rain pour down on us then suddenly stop as if it never happened?" she asked, then leaned back onto the sand, "That's pretty annoying."

Charlie smirked, "I know what you mean, it's ridiculous, isn't it?" he asked, his voice carrying a British accent that made her smile. She nodded, watching Locke whittle something into what looked like a whistle. She noted that Charlie started humming, and she narrowed her eyebrows, trying to remember the song.

"Hey Charlie?" she asked, and he looked down at her, "What song are you singing? It sounds so familiar." she stated, looking distantly out at the sky.

Charlie grinned, his blue eyes brightening in excitement, "You do, do you?" he smirks, then starts to sing, "You all everybody, you all everybody." he sang. Yasmine eyes widened in recognition, and she looked over at Charlie, a giant grin formed on her face. She captured him in a side hug, squeezing him causing him to laugh.

"You're Charlie Pace!" Yasmine squealed, "From the band Drive Shaft! I can't believe I didn't recognize you! I'm so oblivious!"

Charlie smiled, "Yeah, well, I'm glad that I have a fan on the island." he laughed, "Too bad I can't find my guitar."

Yasmine frowned, "You lost your guitar?"

Charlie nodded, "Yeah, haven't found it since the plane crash." he sighed, then looked over at her and smiled, "But if I do find it, you'll be the first to know."

She laughed, "Because your going to write a song about me, right?"

Charlie nodded, smiling and promised that he'd write her a song as soon as he found his guitar. She smiled, leaning back and watching Locke make the whistle. Charlie left after a while, saying that he was going off to find Claire, leaving Locke and Yasmine alone in silence. Well, almost silence. They could still hear the disturbing cries of the marshal in the tent.

The sky darkened, and Yasmine left after a while. She went back to her tent, cuddling up with a blanket and reading one of the books Sawyer lent her. She hadn't finished her copy of Nathaniel Hawthorne's "The Scarlet Letter", and was intent on finishing it before the week was up.

Truthfully, she felt bad for Hester Prynne. Having to wear the "A" symbol, everyone knowing her shame, that she was an adulterer. They looked at her with angry, accusing eyes, and hated her for her sins. She had always sympathized for Hester; she couldn't imagine being the most hated person in the society. Puritans, with their strict laws and such. It was crazy.

Yasmine was almost finished with Chapter 9 when she heard a gunshot. She looked up, and walked out of the window. That's when she noticed: everything was silent. The wailing of the marshal was gone.

She looked at the tent, and her eyes widened as Sawyer walked out the tent, a pistol in his hand and his face full of shame. His long, blond bangs were covering his eyes and he looked up at Jack, who was walking angrily towards him.

"What did you do?" Jack spat, his eyes large and his breath heavy.

Sawyer didn't even blink, "What you couldn't." he started, then his voice got more defensive, "Look, I get where you're coming from being a doctor and all. But he wanted—hell, he asked me, so I don't like it anymore than you do." he defended. He looked down, then back up at Jack, "It was something that had to be done."

A sudden coughing sound erupted from the tent, and Jack looked back wildly at the tent, then back at Sawyer.

"Oh, no way." Hurley commented on the sidelines.

Yasmine looked at Sawyer, and felt sudden sympathy for him. His blue eyes were wide and he looked for the fist time that she has ever seen him, afraid. His eyebrows were puckered and his mouth open as if he had just been caught doing something very wrong.

Jack ran into the tent, and Sawyer followed him, Hurley and Yasmine trailing behind. Jack kneeled next to the marshal, who was starting to cough up blood. Yasmine's eyes widened, and she kneeled beside him, looking around for towels and such to clean the blood.

"You shot his chest?" Jack asked, looking down to tend to the chocking man. Sawyer looked around, helplessly.

"I was aiming for his heart." Sawyer explained.

Jack looked back down, grabbing the towel from Yasmine and looking at the marshal, shaking his head, "You perforated his lung. It will take hours to bleed out."

Sawyer looked helplessly, his arms spread far as he tried to think things out, "All I had was the bullet…"

Jack looked furious, and snapped, "Get out!" he yelled. Yasmine flinched, and Jack looked over at her, "Go." he told her. She went.

Yasmine looked on as Sawyer grabbed a cigarette box out of his jeans pockets, grabbing a cigarette and his lighter. He tried lighting it, his hands shaking as he tried to start the fire, before he got frustrated, throwing it to the sand, "Damn it." he muttered.

He looked over at Yasmine, who was watching him, and turned away. She walked behind him, though, grabbing him from behind in a hug and leaning her head against his shoulder.

Sawyer looked down at her, confusion written in his eyes. Yasmine smiled sadly, wiping a dark curly stand from her face.

"I don't blame you." she said. He looked at her, and a slight smile formed on his face as they embraced each other in a small, side hug. And she knew from that moment on they exchanged something other than smirks, and teasing comments. They were truly accepting friends.

She knew what it was like to be hated. And Yasmine didn't think Sawyer deserved to have an "A" on his chest, either.

And that, my friends, is the end of Chapter 4. Isn't it swweeeet? lmao

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- Runs Like a Girl