A/N: Big thanks to BrilliantInsanity, you're worth fifty cheering squadsxx
October 19 2032
Sawyer's eyes snapped open to clear blue sky, streaked with white, wispy trails of cloud. He heard the creaking of the wooden planks of the boat, the gentle lapping of the river, kissing the side of the small hull. It had all permeated into the last few notes of his dreams, gently rocking him awake and back to consciousness.
He sat up, ignoring the protest from his aching, exhausted body, and looked at Kate. They had been drifting for a day and a half and still she hadn't woken. The longer she slept, the more Sawyer thought he would go out of his mind. He blamed himself completely. If he had never gone to see Ben, if he hadn't been caught, if he had just left her alone that first night in the bar, she wouldn't be here now, hurt and pale as the white clouds that drifted above. She breathed, but her breaths were shallow, erratic and tortured, as if it was painful to do so. Sawyer had torn off the sleeves of his shirt, and wrapped one around her head, covering the gash on her forehead. He looked at it now, already soaked through with blood.
He had to get her some help, but he had no idea where he was, or where to go. Sawyer had rarely been outside of London. He barely knew anything about the rest of England, apart from rumours and stories that would seep through to the city. According to what he'd heard, the cities, towns and villages outside of London were more dangerous than the roughest parts of the slums. It was ungoverned, lawless and dangerous, overrun with villains and vigilantes. Traders and travellers often disappeared, ambushed or murdered. Sawyer had actually thought it didn't sound so bad. But he had Kate to think about, and just three guns. He had the one he'd stolen, one that he had taken from Kate, a replica of his, so he figured she had stolen it on her way in to the Tower, and Kate's silencer, which had no bullets left.
He looked out at the horizon, trying to get a grip on his new surroundings. He thought he was probably supposed to find the view beautiful. But he didn't. It unnerved him. He was so used to the constant hum of the city, the clanging of machinery, the bustling of the slums, the greys, the blacks.
The grass by the banks of the river was a deep green, tall reeds burst through the water from the riverbed below and water-lillies bobbed on the surface. He could hear the distant sounds of frogs croaking, and birds warbling. To the east was nothing but gently rolling hills of emerald, the expanse unbroken apart from a few heavy oak trees dotting the landscape. To the west was a patchwork of different colours, reds mixed with whites, yellows and violets and blues. What was once hard-worked agricultural lands, surrendered to nature. They were framed by the edge of a thick forest of chestnut trees and birches.
Beyond it all, was a barely visible, snaking trail of dark grey. Sawyer squinted, trying to focus his eyes on it. A road, he realised, miles away in the distance.
He looked again at Kate, and back towards the horizon. It could lead somewhere, to some kind of civilisation. He needed to get her help, but he didn't want to walk her into further, unknown danger.
He looked back at her, she looked like she was just sleeping, the sun above dancing red and gold in her hair, her freckles more visible than ever against her pale complexion. He made his decision there and then.
He stepped out of the boat, keeping one hand on it, making sure it didn't drift away from him. He carefully lifted Kate out, hoping desperately he wasn't doing any more damage by moving her. But she didn't make a sound.
'Still don't want to talk?' Sawyer said as he started off on the long walk towards the flower fields ahead and the road beyond. 'You gotta be the most stubborn woman I know, awake or asleep.'
He shifted the weight of her in his arms, leaning her back into his chest, adjusting to his rhythm as he walked through the tall grass. 'Well that's ok, Freckles, you take all the time you need.'
He began to pick up his pace, feeling his muscles unwind, glad to be moving and to have a purpose. He decided he'd walk close enough to the road to follow it, but far enough that he wouldn't draw unwanted attention.
Kate was light in his arms and he made good progress, reaching the flower fields and the forest three hours after he'd set out. When he got there, he stopped to look at the horizon again. The road seemed just as far away as it always had, it was barely visible, blurring into the landscape.
The walk had made him thirsty and he bit his lip as he looked at Kate, knowing he needed to get her water fast. He started off again towards the road, trying to quicken his pace, trying to stave off the fear inside, and the anger. If anything happened to her, if she didn't wake up, he would turn back around and burn the whole city down, reduce it to ashes.
'Guess I owe you a thank you,' he said after a long while. 'We're out of London… You shouldn't have come though, shoulda left me there... Been asking myself why you did it.'
Sawyer knew the answer, just as he knew she would come for him. She was in as deep as he was. He shook his head and looked down at her resting form. She was the strongest woman he knew, but she looked so small now.
'You're gonna pull through this Freckles.'
He trudged through the thick undergrowth and grasses, hating the place more and more. It was the sky that unnerved Sawyer the most. There was so much of it. In the city he could only see it when he raised his head, here it curved over him and stretched as far as he could see beyond, only stopping when the ground rose up to meet it on the horizon. It made him feel trapped and contained. He moved closer towards the edge of the forest, following the line of trees, snapping twigs and crunching leaves beneath his feet.
When the sun finally began to set, Sawyer was still walking, his resolve not wavering a fraction, but his worry for Kate gnawing at him, trying to break him. He told himself she was just concussed, that the blow to her head had been too much of a shock. A temporary shut-down. But the small, destructive part of him inside was telling him it was something much worse, that she'd never wake up, that he'd done this to her, that he'd lost her.
As the sun went down, the fields and forests around him took on a new kind of nature. The warbling and singing was replaced by starker, stouter bird calls. The wind had picked up and it rushed, whistling through the trees, and rustled the long grasses around him. It was a while until he realised he heard something else too, that it had been there for a while, but he'd only just registered it. Water. Faint in the forest, but definitely the sound of water babbling, splashing softly over ground.
Sawyer turned quickly and made his way towards it, walking deeper into the forest. It was much darker with the canopy above, and he had to quickly adjust his eyes to the dimness.
The trees grew close to each other and the walk became harder, but the promise of water pushed him forward. The ground beneath him rose higher and higher, but he took heavy strides as he walked.
It felt like an hour had passed when he finally reached the top of the last rise. He looked down and he saw it. A small stream - crystal clear - babbling over rocks, marking out it's own path through the forest. A small brown deer drank by the side of it, but suddenly froze as Sawyer came into view. Sawyer looked back it at, wondering if he could shoot it for food. Suddenly it bolted, as if sensing it's danger, it's lanky legs scrambling to get away, hopping erratically as it sprinted back into the forest behind.
Sawyer watched it retreat for a moment, cursing under his breath before he walked towards the edge of the stream. He gently placed Kate down, resting her head on soft earth and moss. He went over to the water and scooped some into his hands, and drank it down. It was ice-cold, and the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted. Truly clean water was a rarity in the slums.
He cupped some more in his hands and turned to Kate, bringing the cool liquid to her lips. He looked at the bandage on her head and frowned, and reached forward. He unwrapped it as gently as he could. It was covered in blood. He took it over to the water and washed it until it rinsed clear, then he brought it back over to Kate, and dabbed it carefully at the wound on her forehead. Then he took out the other, dry sleeve he'd ripped off his shirt earlier, and wrapped it gently, but firmly around the cut. He watched it carefully for a moment, and when no fresh blood came, he breathed a sigh of relief.
He rinsed off the cloth again and this time gently cleaned the cut on her lip. It wasn't too bad, but he knew when she woke up, it would sting like hell. The rest were bruises and he could do nothing for them. She had purple-yellow marks where she'd been gripped on her arm, and the bruise on her ribs where she'd been stamped still bore the footprint of the guard that had done it to her. Seeing it, Sawyer felt no ounce of remorse for what he'd done to the men who did this to her. He'd do it again in a heart beat. He wanted to do it again. Make them suffer like they'd made Kate suffer.
He finished cleaning her up, and sat down next to her. He was utterly exhausted. He hadn't realised how much until now. He'd been beaten, chained to a wall for seven days, starved. He'd escaped the tower, rode down the Thames in a dinghy. Walked God knows how many miles with Kate in his arms. His mind was equally exhausted. So much had happened, he couldn't catch up. He sighed heavily, not wanting to admit defeat, but knowing he wouldn't be able to take another step right now.
'We just might have to make camp here tonight, Freckles,' he said, looking around ruefully. He moved closer to her and pulled his jacket off, wrapping it around her slim form, rubbing her arms slightly in an effort to keep her warm.
He cursed himself for quitting smoking. He had no clue how to start a fire, and the temperature would drop in a couple of hours. He decided just to rest for an hour or so, before picking up where he'd left off before he'd come to the brook.
He rested his back against a fallen log, and brought up his knees. He put one arm over Kate, resting his hand on the ground beside her, covering her like a shield. He shut his eyes, just wanting to rest them for a few moments. He felt sleep trying to take over him, and he fought against it, rubbing hard at his eyes and forcing them open.
Just as he was about to fall asleep again, he heard a noise in the forest, leaves rustling, the snapping of twigs below feet.
Sawyer jumped up and drew his gun, looking down nervously at Kate. The noise drew closer and closer. He couldn't tell which direction it was coming from. He scanned the area all around him, but all he saw were trees and the darkness between them.
The sound stopped for a moment, as if cut off, and the forest quieted to an eerie stillness. Sawyer spun around again, his heart beating.
Suddenly a man burst through the trees, sweating as if he'd run for miles, his eyes darting left and right fearfully. He wore a dark blue shirt, open wide at the neck. He had long brown hair, and a look of quiet, unspoken desperation in his eyes. He froze, his eyes widening when he saw Sawyer, and the gun.
'Don't shoot,' he said, his words coming out breathlessly.
Sawyer didn't lower his gun. He looked at the man through narrowed eyes. He looked frightened, though whatever it was that scared him, it wasn't Sawyer. He lowered the gun, though he still trained it carefully on the stranger.
The man looked around him desperately, as if searching for a way out. His eyes fell on Kate.
'You're friend. She's hurt?' he said, taking a few steps towards her.
'Don't touch her!' Sawyer growled.
The man stopped instantly, and took a few steps back. 'I'm sorry. I…'
His words trailed off as he looked at Sawyer, raising his hands in a gesture of peace.
'You don't have to… I'm not going to…'
He stopped and looked Sawyer earnestly in the eyes.
'You can put the gun down, brother…'