Outlaws
Chapter five
Beginning note: /relief/ The February sweeps look great! Hopefully some good J/K moments. FYI, I might use some of the future plots(like Boone warning Sayid about Shannon) in future fics. I have my summary for my next fic. The Stranger Sayid centric planned, and I'm not sure if I'm going to continue with doing a Locke fic, than Jack fic as it goes, or just do the season finale fic I have planned.
The jungle around Kate was calm and quiet as three o'clock neared the hour. The sun's rays were hot on her neck and back, drawing thin red lines that would slowly peel in a matter of days. Skins of grass brushed against her jeans, and the top of her white tank top was drenched with sweat. Exhausted, she leaned against a tree, and took out one of the water bottles. She opened the cap, and was taking a sip of the cool water when she heard the first rustle in the bushes. Slowly, she closed the lid, putting it back into her bag. The bushes rustled again. Her hand drew to her bag where she pulled out one of Locke's knives she had stolen. She stepped cautiously towards the bushes, and as they rustled again, she considered turning to run, but that was before the stalker stepped out.
She said, both surprised and relieved.
Jack looked even more exhausted then Kate, as if he had traveled the entire island before finding her. Kate watched him as he stopped to catch his breath.
she said, realizing, were you following me?
Jack tried to talk and catch his breath at the same time, but it didn't work out.
You were, weren't you? Kate answered for him. I don't know if you're new to this, Jack, but I was a fugitive, you know. I can look out for myself.
The comment didn't seem to have any positive effect on Jack.
Hurley said you were going on a Jack said finally.
And you were worried? Kate guessed. Thanks, but I don't need it.Just thought you could use some assistance, Jack said, trying to sound as casual as he could, but he fail miserably.
Kate repeated, watching him. So why are you really here, Jack?I don't trust him around you, Jack confessed.
Kate said innocently, but all she got back was a stare.
You know who, he said.
You don't have to worry about me, Kate said, turning away.
What is it about him? Jack said as soon as she begun walking.
Kate stopped.
What is it about him that you like? Jack said. He's an animal, Kate.
That caught Kate's attention. She turned around.
You don't know him, she said.
I know what he did, Jack said, and I know you know too. I see you, talking to him.You don't know him, Jack! Kate said over him, silencing him. Just- just go back back to the caves.
Jack paused before answering.
he said, but when you find him half dead, don't come to me for help.
Kate bit her lip. Part of her wanted Jack to come, for the fact that there was a possibility that Sawyer was out there hurt somewhere, and just for the fact of Jack being there. Jack turned, and at the last minute, Kate decided:
Sawyer didn't receive that letter from anyone, she confessed, hating herself as she did.
The statement caused Jack to stop.
He wrote it, she finished.
God she could've killed herself right then and there. So much for trust. Jack turned around.
He asked slowly, swearing he was hearing things.
He wrote it, Kate repeated in remorse, back in 76. It's his letter.
Jack couldn't speak for shock. That was the last answer he had expected, and it left part of him almost feeling.. sorry for Sawyer? He shook his head. No. He wouldn't let himself.
I don't believe it-No Kate, stop it, Jack said, stop trying to stick up for him. Do you think that makes him any better? He's a hypocrite. He didn't even deserve to survive that crash.
Jack turned back and began walking again.
And you don't think he doesn't hate himself for it? Kate said. Go back if you want, but when I find him half dead, and you're not there to help, just think of it as another death on your part.
That touched a nerve. Jack turned back around, making his choice.
he agreed, I'll help you look for Sayid, but-I'm not only going for Sayid, Kate cut in.
......
Sawyer was asleep in the cell he had been unsympathetically thrown into the night before. He was sitting on the small bench on the side, head against the wall. He had planned on sleeping throughout the day, not having gotten much sleep in the past week, and hey, he didn't have anything better to do. But he stirred before he would've liked and slowly opened his eyes to Michael Rodman, his second hand man and partner in crime, standing on the other side of the cell bars.
What's up Mike? Sawyer said casually, as if they were in some bar and not jail.
You killed a guy, Mike said, staring at him in both awe and disappointment, I never thought you'd sink that low, Sawyer.
That caught Sawyer's attention and he was suddenly very awake, and very angry.
He said in his defense, jumping up. I may have talked to that guy and heard him spill out his life story all night, but I never killed nobody.
To his surprise, Mike's stern, let down face broke out into a slow smile. Sawyer stared at him.
Glad to hear it, Mike said, then got serious again, but that's not the point.
He looked around, and Sawyer got the idea, standing up to where no one could over hear them.
What is it? Sawyer said in a low voice.
Mike didn't say anything as he began working fast, fumbling for a set of keys in his pockets.
Sawyer said, not knowing what to believe.
If Kilo finds out you're still in town, he'll kill you, Mike explained, working in a hurry.
How do you even know about that? Sawyer said, having trouble taking in all that was going on.
Got a friendly call from your buddy, Mike said, wants us both dead by noon.
The color left Sawyer face completely, causing his bruise to stand a mile out.
Looks like he already started on you, Mike observed.
He finished unlocking the cell, then after a paranoid look around, slid open the door.
Where'd you get those? Sawyer said, motioning towards the keys.
We've got to hurry, Mike said, guard won't stay knocked out forever.
He and Sawyer shared a knowing look before Mike took something out of his pocket: a plane ticket.
What's this? Sawyer asked, taking it.
A plane ticket to L.A., Mike said, flight 815. Take it, go to L.A. and become someone else.What about you? Sawyer said.
I could only get one, said Mike.
Sawyer hesitated.
Take it! Mike hissed. Get yourself a cab, and disappear. And don't you even think about coming back for me.
Mike turned, leaving Sawyer to his destiny, but stopping before he reached the door.
I'm ready for death, Mike shrugged, and left, leaving Sawyer to stare at the plane ticket.
Sawyer looked up, only half-sober from his pre-crash life. Sayid was still ahead of him, as if he knew exactly where he was going.
Guess you know exactly where you're going, Sawyer said, startling Sayid who had apparently forgotten Sawyer was even with him, despite that we were supposed to turn left thirty minutes ago.
Sayid stopped, turning around.
Why didn't you say anything? Sawyer said, shrugging,
Sayid once again had to hold back his anger. If he hadn't, he probably would've murdered Sawyer long ago.
Well there's no use going back now, Sayid sigh, we'll just get lost. Again. Let's just keep going straight, maybe there's another path.Whatever you say, Ali.
Mike had had enough sympathy to retrieve Sawyer's coat, which still had the old man's twenty in cash and credit card. Throwing open the airport's glass doors, Sawyer knew he'd have no choice but to spend it. There was still an hour before boarding, and knowing it was too risky to stay in the open, Sawyer disappeared into one of the restaurants and ordered all he could for twenty bucks, knowing it would be useless to walk into L.A. with ten fifty and a credit card. Sawyer sat down after ordering and while biting into a cheeseburger, took the time to observe the others in the restaurant.
In the corner was a very pregnant woman that looked to be only in her lower twenties with long, blonde hair. She had ordered a large coke, but was only staring at it, lost in her thoughts. A big man( more like, huge man) that looked of thirty or a little younger was on a cellphone in a back table, failing at hiding himself from view.
I know Mom, the man groaned, I'll be fine. There was a paused. Yes, Mom. Another pause then- God Mom it's only a plane! I'm twenty-six, I can handle it.
Sawyer snorted, knowing the man could play games all he wanted, but there was no way he was twenty-six, plus he was a momma's boy to boot. His thoughts were interrupted by an intercom.
Pre-boarding for flight 815 is now beginning, the woman said.
Sawyer threw away his food, not wanting to stick around this place much longer. About the same time, the pregnant woman arrived at the trash can the same time as Sawyer.
Oh, sorry, she said in with a thick Australian accent after knocking into Sawyer's arm.
No problem, he muttered, and left.
Looking up, Sawyer realized the odds that those same two people would be stranded on some deserted island with him for God knows how long, and they weren't the only ones he remembered-
Mike had gotten him a seat in the business section. A window seat. Which was good, he guessed, so he wouldn't look like an idiot when he stared off into space. Lots of people did it, including an Iraqi man who appeared, like him, luggagless. A flight attended had taken pity on the man, bringing him a blanket. Of all the things. A blanket. And the man looked like his life had been hell too. But he hadn't complained, which made Sawyer suspicious. The man was just sitting there, grateful looking. Spooky looking. And that was when the plane first hit turbulence.
Sawyer felt himself press back against the seat and he struggled to get his seat belt on, noticing that passengers around him were doing the same, including the Iraqi man. The second turbulence hit. The Iraqi man was now trying to wake up a man who was falling asleep beside him. But the man never woke up. Once again, the plane hit turbulence, and Sawyer fought for the oxygen mask that had fallen in front of him. The Iraqi man did the same. Then the crash began.
The screams were unbearable from the front, and there was a loud roaring sound as a piece of the plane Sawyer couldn't see broke off. At least, he couldn't see until he looked towards the windows and saw bodies and luggage falling out into nowhere. The sight made him sick, but he had no time to think about it as his head hit the window.
Sawyer looked up again, to notice that the sun had begun its slow process of sinking into the horizon, meaning it must've been four or five.
When Sawyer regained consciousness, he was shocked to find himself staring down at plates of grass through the window. It took him a while to realize it: the plane was rolling. Sawyer tried to look around and noticed the Iraqi man was knocked out, and the man beside him looked dead. Screams still rang through the air as he waited for the glass to break and cut open his face. But it never did. Five minutes later, the rolling stopped.
Sawyer groaned as his head rolled to the side, and he saw that the Iraqi man had too regained conscious, and was also looking around in shock. Around them the plane had broken off completely. Sawyer was now laying on his side, and when he tried standing, his body completely refused, every bone in his body acing. So he tried again, this time succeeding. The first thing he did was wipe the blood off his forehead. The second was excited the plane.
The next time Sawyer looked up, he noticed that Sayid had stopped. He was staring at something in the middle of the jungle, and when Sawyer looked over, he saw what it was: the tail end of the plane.
Author's Note: Thanks if you reviewed! That's the last of Sawyer's flashbacks for this story. There will probably only be two more chapters, one to finish up the story, and a songfic ending. I'll be using the Beatles song . Hope that made sense.. it;s 4:15 in the morning, so you know how that is. Well, until next time..
October Sky