Author's Note: So this chapter is a bit longer than usual. I'm going to try to gradually increase the length as the story gets darker. That being said, this is totally a filler chapter, lots of humor and such. After this one the story will actually... go somewhere. I do have a plot, I swear! And as always, everyone thank you so much for the reviews. Especially all my new reviewers! Episode Connections: 19) Deus Ex Machina and 3) Tabula Rasa
Chapter 10
Kate looked down when one of her crutches got tangles in a dirty, nearly molding sock carelessly tossed onto the floor. She shook it off, groaning in disgust, and proceeded to the kitchen. She was not at all surprised, though frustrated, to see that once again there was nothing but leftover takeout and sour milk in the refrigerator. Glancing up the clock, she saw that it was a few minutes past three, which meant that Sawyer would be back soon from whatever he did during the day. Sure enough she didn't have to wait long to hear the front lock turn, and footsteps pad across the corridor.
She reached down and picked up the offensive sock, waiting for just the right moment when Sawyer emerged from behind the corner, then tossed it into the air in his direction. It went flying and strategically landed right on his head, flopping over the very middle of his face. Kate thought it might make her feel better, but it didn't. For Sawyer's part, he stopped dead in his tracks, too startled to react. He closed his eyes, and Kate thought it looked like he was counting to five. Sawyer finally pulled off the sock, and glared at her.
"What's the big idea?" Sawyer demanded, both angry and surprised. He was ready to throw the sock back at her, but Kate gave him a him a hard look.
"I'm not sure you know this," her hands would have been on her hips if it weren't for the crutches, "but normal people don't live like this."
"What?" he asked, annoyed.
"Normal people don't have a pile of dirty laundry three feet high piled in their living rooms," she gestured to the far left corner. "Normal people wash the sheets after their latest conquest. "Sawyer raised an eyebrow at her. "And at the very least, normal people have something other than molding leftover pizza in the fridge.
Sawyer stared at her for a full minute, before his deep throaty laughter filled the air. That didn't help at all, only fueling Kate's anger. "Sweetheart, I've been doin' just fine before you came. Haven't needed a mother since I was eight."
"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.
Fuck. What in God's name possessed him to say that? A shadow passed over Sawyer's face. He tried to cover it with a scowl, but it was too late. If he learned to read her well, Kate was a quick study, learning to catch his looks and moods. Sawyer would have never admitted it, but it unnerved him. He was a solitary creature, used to being on his own, and he liked it that way. But after only two weeks, she'd already started getting under his skin, and not in a good way.
"Nothing," he said roughly. "What'd you want?"
Kate looked at him and decided not to push for much. She wasn't sure at which point the conversation turned darker, but something that was said turned him inward. Demanding anything radical was pointless, so Kate decided to go for the very basics.
"Just take a trip to the supermarket," she asked. "Nothing big, but if you could pick up some bread, milk, and fruit, that would be nice."
"Fine," Sawyer nodded, once again grabbing his keys from the counter.
"Great," Kate's face brightened. "Feel free to get me some tampons while you're at it."
Sawyer stopped and turned back, his scowl replaced with a wide grin. "Freckles, your entire attitude's been explained to me in one word."
He was through the door before Kate could process the comment and get angry, but Sawyer could feel her glare on his back.
Sawyer growled under his breath as he loaded three overflowing bags of groceries into his car. Supermarkets were definitely not his scene. The only people who shopped there were mothers, who somehow managed to push shopping carts and strollers with screaming toddlers, or old people in scooter-like wheelchairs. Either way they took up space, and got in his way. Then there was the small problem that even after six months in Boston, Sawyer had never been to a grocery store. If his meals didn't come from some coffee shop or bar, he grabbed them at the 7/11 down the street. It took him a full hour to find the food he thought Kate had in mind, and another twenty before he found the aisle with the toiletries.
He had no idea there were so many different kinds of tampons. There were several shelves devoted solely to the product, housing many different brands and types. Cardboard or plastic, odor absorbent or regular. Sawyer had absolutely no clue what the differences were. He stared at the selves, until he caught funny looks from some of the passing women. One finally took pity on him, probably sympathetic of the look of complete bewilderment on his face, and asked if he was shopping for his girlfriend. Not bothering to explain, Sawyer nodded. The woman looked at the shelf for a moment, picked out a box, and handed it to him with a smile. Sawyer didn't think he'd ever been so grateful in his life.
But if he thought the humiliation of the trip was over, Sawyer was sorely mistaken. Just as he was about to shut the trunk closed, he heard two different sets of lightly stepping footsteps and laughter behind him. Of course, Sawyer thought sarcastically. Why should my life be easy?
"Sawyer," Jack's familiar voice called out to him from down the parking lot, and the southerner turned.
As he guessed, Jack was not alone. Keeping half a step behind the doctor was a woman in her late twenties. She had sandy blond hair, the short straight tresses falling to just a little below her shoulders. There was really nothing particularly striking about her, but she seemed kind enough. Jack was holding her hand, Sawyer noted, smirking. Well ain't that cute?
"What's up, doc?" he asked, zipping his coat back up.
"Just out for a walk," Jack replied, then realized he was forgetting something. "Sorry, where are my manners? Sawyer, this is Sarah. Sarah, Sawyer's the old friend I've been telling you about. He comes in and out of town every once in a while."
"Pleasure to finally meet you," she smiled, holding out her hand. "Jack's told me nothing but good things about you."
"Really?" the southerner pretended to look surprised. "That's real strange, 'cause Jack's usually such an honest guy." All three had a good laugh.
"So what are you doing here?" Jack glanced over his shoulder at the bright glowing sign of the supermarket. "Don't tell me you've abandoned your undying devotion to processed food."
"Har har, very funny," Sawyer rolled his eyes at him. "Doc's a comedian now. What's the world comin' to? Nah, it ain't anything big. Just my house guest asked me to pick up some stuff for her."
Jack's gaze shifted to the still-open trunk, and it took Sawyer a split second to follow it as it came to rest on a corner of the pink box of Platex sticking out of the bag. Before Jack could open his mouth, Sawyer held up both hands.
"Don't," he said. "I had a really long day, so just... don't say anything."
"I wasn't going to," the entire situation was obviously very amusing to the doctor. "This is what women do to us: make us run errands for them all the time."
The comment earned him a jab in the ribs from Sarah, and it was Sawyer's turn to laugh. Sarah shook her head at Jack and looked down at her watch. "Damn," she winced. "I have to go." She reached over to Jack and kissed his cheek. "I'll see you soon, okay? It was nice to meet you, Sawyer."
As she went back down the parking lot, Sawyer noticed a slight limp in her step. Jack had told him about Sarah's accident a little over a year ago. He also said that based on everything he knew about medicine, she should have been paralyzed for life. To the present, Jack still didn't know what medical miracle allowed her full feeling in her legs. According to him, Sarah got off relatively easy, having to deal with only a year worth of physical therapy. Whatever the case, Sawyer was sure she would be fine in the long run. Jack was more than happy to take care of her, and both seemed very fund of each other.
"I should get going too," Sawyer slammed the trunk shut.
"Yeah," Jack nodded thoughtfully. "Hey, I'd like to come with you. See how that girl, Annie, is doing."
"Sure," Sawyer walked around to the driver's seat and opened the door. "Get in."
"Honey, I'm home," Sawyer called out in a sing-song voice. He put two of the bags on the kitchen table while Jack brought in the third behind him.
"You cleaned," Jack observed, surprised. "So where is she?"
As if on cue, Kate came out of her room. Jack could see that she was much more adept to the crutches than the first time she tried them. She stopped in the doorway, her eyes falling on Jack. What the doctor took as a look of surprise, Sawyer recognized as something else: fear. Not of Jack directly, but of being recognized by someone from the respectable part of society. Still she didn't let it show.
"Good to see you again, doctor," she put on a smile and sat down in the nearest chair. "To what do we owe the house call?"
"I ran into Sawyer, and thought I'd drop by and see how that leg of yours is doing," Jack gestured at the brace, then gave her a funny look. "How did you manage to get him to go him shopping?"
"A very admirable accomplishment, I'm sure," she laughed.
"You have no idea," Jack kneeled by the chair next to her to examine her leg. "Does this hurt?" he tapped the brace in few places, but Kate shook her head. "Good, and it hasn't been bothering you?"
"Not really," she shrugged. "It's annoying, but otherwise fine."
"Then I think it'll be ready to come off in another two weeks," Jack got up and nodded thoughtfully.
"Really?" her eyes lit up. "That's great! Hear that?" she turned to Sawyer, who was still standing in the kitchen. "You'll have the whole place to yourself again soon."
"Then why did I bother buyin' a whole damn box of the damn tampons?" he demanded, taking them out and tossing the box on the counter. Kate ignored him, slowly getting up and making her way to the counter. She pulled one of the bags closer and began spreading the groceries on the table.
"Next time I'm making a list," she muttered under her breath.
"Don't even think about it, little girl," Sawyer warned her. "No way am I walking around there with a shopping list. You want something more specific, hobble over and get it yourself."
"Is he always this polite?" Kate looked past Sawyer at Jack.
"No," Jack replied, getting up, "sometimes he's rude."
"If you two are done," Sawyer glared at both, "and if you," he looked at Kate, "can get this stuff if the fridge, Jack and I are gonna get out for a little while."
"We are?" the doctor was confused. "What are you up to, Sawyer?"
The blond man only grinned, disappearing into Kate's room. He emerged a second later, and tossed something to Jack, who caught it with ease and stared down at the basketball in his hands.
"We're playing basketball?" he asked. "Are you serious?"
"As a heart attack," Sawyer grinned. "You need to get out more often, Doc. Think that hospital's gettin' to you."
"I haven't played in years," Jack protested, but it was clear he was tempted.
"All the more reason," Sawyer told him. "Come on, I promise not to beat you by much."
"Nine to six!" Sawyer declared triumphantly. He dropped on the curb next to Jack, wiping the sweat off his face with his shirt. "You gotta get out into the wild a little more often, Doc. You are out of shape."
"Shut up," Jack would have growled, but he couldn't catch his breath.
They'd been playing for a little under two hours on the old court behind Sawyer's apartment building. It wasn't the fanciest of locations; graphite could be seen everywhere, both hoops were rusted, and one was missing a net, but Sawyer felt more alive on the court than anywhere else. It was his element, a place he could set his inner beast free. Adrenaline high was the only way to go.
"So," Sawyer leaned back resting his hands on the ground behind him, "how's Chris?"
The smile on Jack's face immediately disappeared. He pressed his lips together, took a deep breath, and finally shook his head. "He's not okay," he whispered. "Not even close."