Title: Hunting
Rated: M, language
Characters: Sawyer, Walt
Spoilers: takes place sometime before ep 14, Special, but after ep 8, Confidence Man.

He's in a good mood for once, for maybe the third time since they've been stuck here. No headaches, no fighting, no one to tell him how he's fucking everyone up again. It's just him, his stash, his smokes, and his book. Life is beautiful for a moment under this tree and this canopy for Sawyer.

All it takes is a twig breaking to get him pissed off, but when he looks he sees the kid and he's surprised that he actually relaxes again. "Hey, half-pint," he says, sounding gruffer than he meant to. "Shouldn't be alone in the jungle, don't you know that by now?"

Walt's smile is bright white and carefree, and it actually makes Sawyer feel a little sad. He can't remember ever being that carefree, not even at Walt's age. Hell, especially not at Walt's age. "Hey, Sawyer."

Sawyer puts his book down and shades his eyes as he sits up. The sun has suddenly gotten hotter and brighter. "Your father know you're out here?"

"He's not really my father, you know," Walt says, plopping down beside Sawyer. "I mean, he is. But he's not."

Sawyer frowns. "You might have to explain that one to me, kid."

"I just met him," Walt says, looking at him like he should already know that. "My Mom died, and my Dad, my step-father but... I mean, he was my Dad. My Dad was sad, so, I guess Michael decided to take me back to America." He shrugs. "He wants me to call him Dad though, so I do."

Sawyer feels a little pang in his gut, cause he knew the kid's mother had died, but he'd never had to talk about it until now. "Yeah. Sorry about that, Walt."

"It's okay," Walt says, and the lack of emotion in the statement jolts Sawyer. Even now, thirty years later, the word Mom does something to him. He can't understand how Walt can sound so glib only five weeks later. "Anyway, he doesn't have to know where I am all the time."

Sawyer smirks and takes a cigarette out of his pack. If there's anything he can understand, it's the need to be alone. "Sure."

"Hey, you wanna see something cool," Walt asks, grinning that carefree grin again.

This time, Sawyer feels a chill run through him at it. He passes it off as the breeze. He nods, taking a deep puff. "Sure, kid. Why not."

Walt nods and says nothing, pulling up his knees and wrapping his arms around them. Just when Sawyer's about to prod him further a white rabbit with long pointy ears toddles out in front of them, a mere five feet away. "See," Walt says, looking at him, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Cool, huh?"

Sawyer frowns. "What. The rabbit?"

"Yeah," Walt says, nodding.

Sawyer shakes his head. "Sure, kid. Rabbits are cool."

Walt frowns at him. "Don't you get it? I made him come."

Sawyer laughs and takes another puff off of his cigarette. "Who are you, Snow White?"

Walt's frown deepens. "Who?"

Sawyer waves his hand, holding his cigarette away as Walt moves to sit closer to him. "Snow White. Ain't you ever seen a Disney film?"

Walt shrugs. "Sure, I guess."

Sawyer sighs and rolls his eyes. The kid was the least annoying of the pack, but there was only so much naiveté he could take. "Snow White had the ability to call animals. I don't know, kid, she was soothing I guess."

Walt thinks on that for a moment and then shrugs, looking at Sawyer. "I guess. I don't know. I just thought 'I want to see a white rabbit' and there he was."

Sawyer looks at him, expecting to see a glint in Walt's eye. Expecting to see a tell. Some kind of sign the kid was full of shit. Instead he saw belief. "Well, alright then."

"Did your Dad ever take you hunting," Walt asked, cocking an eyebrow up, his hand reaching out and touching Sawyer's leg.

Sawyer felt his gut clench and he had to forcibly make himself breathe before answering. He reached down and knocked the kid's hand off his leg and tried to stifle the urge to strike out at something. "No."

"Really," Walt asked, cocking his head to the side. "Not even before he shot himself?"

The air was sucked out of him. His eyes widened and his hands went numb. "What did you say?"

"Before he shot himself," Walt said. "He never took you hunting?"

Sawyer looked down at his hands and saw his nails digging into his palms, hard enough to draw blood. His knuckles were white and he couldn't feel it. "Where the fuck did you hear that?"

Walt's eyes widened at the curse and the tone, but he didn't shrink away or move to stand. "Hear what?"

"Did Kate tell you that," Sawyer growled, knowing his face was contorting into an ugly mask of fury. "Did she tell you about my parents?"

"No one told me," Walt said, shrugging and laughing. "You're weird, Sawyer."

Sawyer took a deep breath and then another. He flexed his fingers and watched the blood rush back into his hands. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "Go home."

"I don't want to, we didn't get to the cool part yet," Walt said.

Sawyer opened his eyes and glared at him. "How the fuck did you know that?"

"You shouldn't say that," Walt said, frowning in disapproval. "That's a bad word."

Sawyer laughs, feeling it echoing in the hollow space left in his chest. "Yeah, kid, it is. Now tell me where the fuck you heard that."

Walt sighs and shakes his head. "I didn't hear it. I just knew."

"You just knew," Sawyer says, arching his eyebrow. "You just conjured up the fact that my Dad blew his brains out out of the clear blue sky, huh?"

Walt looks at him and for a moment he looks scared. "I don't know," he says finally, his voice small, timid. "I just knew. I swear, no one told me."

Sawyer watches him and again looks for signs of bullshit. Again all he finds is honestly, pure unadulterated honesty. The kind that only kids have. "What's the cool part," he asks finally, taking a deep breath.

Walt smiles again, and Sawyer doesn't even try to ignore the chill he feels this time. "Watch," he said, looking back at the rabbit that was still there, sitting on its haunches and watching them.

Sawyer looks at the rabbit and tries to stop his head from spinning. He flexes his fingers again and feels the pin pricks of the blood regrouping in his fingertips. A rustling in the bushes makes his ears prick up and suddenly he's filled with tension. Whatever is coming, whatever is making that noise, is not small. Whatever it is, it's not another rabbit. "Walt, what--"

Walt grins at him. "Just watch."

Sawyer hears it before he sees it, the deep low growl going straight through to his bones. The white tusks poke through first and he throws his arm out instinctively to knock Walt back. The boar is two inches from them and Sawyer knows that if it wants to, it'll rip them to shreds in seconds. There's no time to stand, no time to run, so instead he blocks Walt with his body and hopes the kid has time to get away while the boar is busy on him.

Walt's giggling though, and Sawyer watches with eyes glued open as the boar spears through the rabbit with it's tusk, the rabbit squealing but not even trying to run. Blood shows on the white fur in technicolor brightness and the boar shakes its head until the rabbit is lying once again on the ground, motionless. Picking it up with its mouth the boar looks at them, straight into Sawyer's eyes, and heads back into the cover of the trees, leaves rustling and branches snapping in it's path.

"Cool, huh," Walt says, grinning at Sawyer and standing up.

Sawyer looks up at him and has the urge to flee. He tells himself it's stupid, the kid's barely older than 10, but the fear is realer than it's ever been. "What the hell just happened?"

"What do you mean what just happened," Walt asks, grinning. "The boar ate the rabbit."

Sawyer sits frozen as Walt starts laughing and grabs his bag, holding it in front of him like he almost believes it's a shield. "And you think you did that."

Walt nods. "Yeah."

Sawyer nods, swallowing. "You made that boar eat the rabbit."

Walt nods again, walking backwards. "Yeah. I gotta go, man," he says, pointing behind him. "My Dad's gonna get seriously mad at me if I'm not back at the cave by the time he gets back."

Sawyer watches him go and then turns his eyes back to the blood on the grass in front of him. He tells himself it was a dream, it hadn't happened. He tells himself it's the heat, and the headaches. He tells himself he was asleep, or hallucinating. By the time he gets back to the beach, he's almost convinced himself he'd never seen Walt in the woods at all.

Walt looks at him when he sees him the next day and Sawyer turns and bolts in the opposite direction.

He tells himself it's just because he wants to be alone, but he can't get the sent of blood out of his nose.