Disclaimer: Still applies

Rating: M, for language.

Quandary (continued)

When I awoke the next morning, a million thoughts buzzed through my head at once but Sawyer had anticipated them all.

He said, "Here's how I see it. You stay here with her. I'll go back and tell everybody where we are. I'll bring somebody back with me, and food. Anything else you need from the caves?"

"No."

"We gonna move her?"

She was still asleep, and I gingerly examined the bandaging for blood loss, peeking beneath it to see how it fared. Under the circumstances, it looked good. But jostling it might be the single dumbest thing to do.

"Not today. Bring Sun with you, okay? Shit, no. I've gotta be here, so she needs to stay there. Get Sayid. He knows a decent bit about gunshot wounds. Whatever you do, keep Charlie from coming out here. He's more of a hindrance than anything."

"Gotcha."

When he was gone, Kate opened her eyes slowly.

I said, "How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough to hear my prognosis."

"You'll be fine."

"I know."

"How do you feel?"

"Sticky. Dirty. But that's not new. Can I eat anything?"

"Definitely. Give me a second." I fetched her a water bottle and some leftover fruit. When I returned, I asked her, "Can you still feel your whole leg?"

"Wish I couldn't."

"I'll give you another aspirin."

"Save it. It wouldn't make a dent. It'll be much more useful to someone else."

"How'd you get so tough, Kate?"

"Practice. You gonna ask me about the gun?"

"No. I'd rather not. I've decided if you wanna hide things from people, that's your business."

"What if I hurt someone?"

"You won't."

"How do you know?"

"I just do. Just like I know Sawyer's not dangerous."

"Now, that surprises me."

"He's impulsive and violent, but I don't believe he'd really hurt anybody without reason. Hell, he had a reason to hurt Sayid and he hasn't."

"You thought he shot me on purpose, didn't you?"

"For a second. Until I saw his face."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Do you like me?"

"Sure."

"I mean, do you have a thing for me."

"No. Why?"

"I didn't think so. See, I've been in my underwear since yesterday, and you haven't paid a lot of attention to that."

"I've kinda been busy being a doctor."

"Yes. But you're not doctoring anything right now. And the most you've done is give a nice cursory glance over my legs."

"I'm not inhuman. I did notice."

"But you didn't need to stare." She wasn't smirking. She actually had the most curious look on her face, like she was searching my eyes for something. She said, "Neither did Sawyer."

I just laughed, probably louder than I should have. "He obviously has no problem expressing his lust in other ways. What was it he said he wanted you to do to him? Something about closing your mouth for a while?"

She smiled and shook her head, and I had no idea how to read her. She had been so angry the night before.

"That was just Sawyer being Sawyer. He wasn't serious."

"No?"

"If he wanted me, he'd have tried something by now."

"I don't know. I have a feeling there's a lot that we don't understand about Sawyer. Nobody can be an asshole all the time."

"Is that how you see him?"

"He frustrates me. Do you know why? I think he's capable of being a better person, but he deliberately chooses to be the way he is. What I don't know is why. What is with his constant sarcasm and macho crap and misanthropy?"

"He's protecting himself."

"From what?"

"I doubt he even knows anymore."

"It's like I look into those eyes of his and I see so much that he refuses to let surface."

Randomly, or so I thought, she said, "I woke up three times last night."

"Sawyer didn't tell me that."

"He didn't know. I just opened my eyes and looked over to the person who was sitting beside me. Couldn't tell who it was at first, but then I saw that he didn't have any chest hair. Do you know why he didn't see me? He was looking at you."

"What?"

"He was watching you sleep."

That caught my interest, so naturally I couldn't help but feign disinterest. "So?"

"It was a rare sight, Jack. It's a look I've never seen on Sawyer's face: the look of wanting something you believe you'll never have."

"Kate?"

"I know you must be comfortable with your sexuality. I know that's why you actually enjoy sparring with him. I've seen you pick fights with him. But have you considered that—"

I could have spent time wondering how she knew, but the more pressing thing was to set her straight about. "No. I'm usually more into women, so it's rare that I'm attracted to men. When it happens, it's either someone that I connect with, almost regardless of sex, or it's someone who's undeniably hot."

She grinned and propped herself up on her elbows. "I knew it! I was guessing on the bisexuality. But I knew you wanted him."

"No, I don't. I'm not into fucking people I don't have any respect for."

"Oh, so you admit you've thought about fucking him. How interesting."

"You get some sort of thrill thinking about that or something?"

"No. I'm just…Look, I just think it's a shame you can't see him as a human being. I realize he makes it difficult…"

"What reasonable good could come from me getting to know Sawyer? Besides, he's a prejudiced bastard. Has a new racial slur for Sayid every day. If he's got any inclinations toward men, I bet he'd sooner shoot himself."

"Possibly. Or maybe that's just another part of his protective mechanism. Maybe he's attracted to Sayid and he's covering."

I said, "Maybe," and I went back to examining her, dropping the subject. But the thought of Sawyer with Sayid gave me a heavy, tense feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Seeing them return together—even though Sawyer was giving him hell—certainly didn't make me feel better.

That day, there was a steady stream of people to and from our spot in the woods. Luckily Sawyer had the presence of mind to bring a blanket to throw over Kate so every bored and therefore suddenly interested person in the camp didn't have to see her in her underwear. Sayid looked at the wound and said he could be no help. Any methods he knew would never have been that clean. He said, if it was any consequence, it looked like it would heal with a nasty scar but she'd be fine.

Sawyer was the star of the show, explaining his heroic run through the jungle and Kate's impressive bravery. He even managed to say nice things about me, veiled though they were in sarcasm. Whenever I locked eyes with him, I found myself wondering the exact same things I always did: who the hell was he?

As darkness approached, Kate decided it was high time she told everyone just how brave Sawyer had been during the removal of the bullet. I laughed along with everyone else as she explained his unorthodox way of taking her mind off the pain, and he just grinned and said, "I was only speaking the truth. That was my sacrifice in this whole ordeal." His eyes caught mine, and he looked like the man I expected him to be: leering, sure of himself, a far cry from the one who had hesitantly pressed his hand into the compress, who was shaking as he tried to help me take care of Kate. But I found it easy to laugh, because this was the Sawyer I knew, that I was used to, that I could easily predict.

Then Kate caught my eye and raised her eyebrows.

I was starting to get a little weary of being confused.

That night, Sawyer refused to leave. He also wanted to stay awake all night to watch her, but he hadn't slept in almost a day. He was beginning to get a little grouchy. While he added wood to the fire, I approached him hesitantly.

"I think you should sleep tonight," I said.

"Why? I ain't good enough to keep watch?"

This was Sawyer being ridiculous, and I knew reason was of no consequence. Stupid bastard that I am, I tried anyway.

"You're tired."

"So are you."

"I slept last night."

"Just because you can't stay awake on the job doesn't mean I can't."

"I'm staying up whether you do or not."
"Fine," he said. "But don't expect me to keep your sorry ass company." He got up then, and headed toward Kate. Sawyer had divulged a secret stash of vicodin, which he'd brought to her and she'd taken to help her sleep. So she was only half-awake and unwilling to participate in our argument.

"Fine. You'll just go to sleep sitting up."

"If I say I'll stay up, then I'll do it."

"Why are you so afraid of letting her out of your sight?"

"I'm not afraid. I just think since I'm the one that got her in this mess—"

"That's bullshit. Is it that you don't trust me?"

"Everything in the world ain't about you. I mean, just because you're a fucking doctor doesn't mean nobody else on this island's useful. I'm real good at keeping my eyes open. Let me do that. Unless you don't trust me."

"I give up. It's obvious you're gonna do whatever you want to do, whether or not it endangers someone's life."

Before I could react, he had knocked me to the ground and was crouched on all fours on top of me, pinning my arms to the ground. He raised a hand to punch me, but I took my now free hand and knocked his other hand off balance, and he landed on top of me, almost knocking out my breath.

Kate was calling to us, but I'm pretty sure the only thing I could pay any attention to was Sawyer's breath coming through the fabric at my shoulder, and the weight of his thighs on top of mine. I have no idea how long we stayed there like that, stunned. Finally, he turned his head and said quietly, in my ear, "I wasn't gonna hit you, you dumb dick." Then he pulled himself off me without offering a hand to help me up.

As he dusted himself off, Kate said, "Sawyer, please get some sleep tonight."

"If it'll keep me away from the King of the Universe, I will."

And he did, settling himself on the ground beside the fire. I perched myself beside Kate, and she gave me a very meaningful look.

I said, "Don't start with me."

She smiled and said, "I don't have to."

Then she closed her eyes and went to sleep.

If I could, I'd tell you that I easily made up my mind that Sawyer was a first class asshole, and that his knocking me to the ground confirmed it. That would only be partly true. He was an asshole, all right, and the dangerous kind. But there's a difference between touching someone impersonally, touching someone intimately, and touching someone one way while pretending it's the other. You could say I was paranoid, that maybe I was the one trying to keep an intimate touch from seeming quite as desperate as it really was. But there's that old saying—it takes two to tango. Well, it takes two to perpetrate a self-delusion as strong as the two of us were attempting. But just because I couldn't deny my attraction to him—never really had—I could still believe he wouldn't ever own up to feeling anything but annoyance and revulsion for me. And a homophobic gay man can be dangerous, especially if he has a temper, biceps the size of my thighs, and more obstinate will than Kate.

I don't know when I fell asleep. I just know that I woke up before the sun had come up although it wasn't quite dark anymore. Sawyer sat on the other side of Kate and I was laying on the ground beside her.

"Shit," I muttered as I pulled myself up into a sitting position.

"Well, Good morning to you too, princess. Sleep well?"

"She's okay?"

"Yep."

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"So I could be self-righteous. Seems you did need the sleep more than I did."

"Apparently. How did I get on the ground?"

"Thought you'd be sore sleeping against a tree. Didn't think you'd want to be wrong and sore all at the same time."

"Thanks, I guess."

"You were out cold. Thought you might've swiped a vicodin yourself."

"Sawyer—"

"Don't get your panties in a twist. I know you wouldn't do that. Heroes never do anything wrong."

"Heroes?"

"Self-proclaimed, of course."

"Do they fall asleep on duty?"

"Always. That's what happens when too many people hail you as a hero. Makes you cocky."

"As opposed to those who are just cocky by nature."

"We're well aware of exactly what we're worth." At that, his voice had slipped from easy banter to something rather bitter. He pulled himself off the ground and said, "Think you can stay awake while I build up the fire?"

"Sure."

And we didn't speak until a couple of hours later, when Sayid, Micheal, and Walt arrived.

Ever see four grown men try to cooperate? It works extraordinarily well when those men are friends, because there's always an unacknowledged leader. It works well enough when you've got men that respect each other, because they'll eventually figure out who has to be the leader and who is willing to defer.

Given Sawyer's general hatred of Sayid and hit-or-miss cooperation with me, I was not looking forward to moving Kate back to the caves. My professional apprehension didn't help things. Apparently, we had nothing like a stretcher, so we were basically going to carry her in our arms. It would mean a hell of a lot of soreness in our arms and backs, mainly because they'd be stuck in one position for so long. Not to mention we had to be able to stabilize her leg. I'd rigged up a splint, but it was a little hard to make it completely effective given that I didn't want Kate in too much pain. So someone would have to spend all their energy on keeping her leg straight.

Sawyer appointed himself the ideal person for the job. It took me a minute of internal debate: jeopardize things letting him do the important job or jeopardize things by pissing him off? Kate just looked at me knowingly, and I sighed and let him have his way. He was certainly strong enough for the job; I hoped I could trust him to be careful.

Micheal carried her head and shoulders, while Sayid—just as strong as Sawyer—stood on her right and supported her lower back, one hand there and one firmly gripping her ass. In a very sly way he gave Sawyer crap about that, but Sawyer was focused. He was on her left, and he held out both arms straight and supported her thigh and the splint. I stood opposite him, beside Sayid, and held one arm under her knees below the splint, the other under her calves, my hand holding her left leg still.

It was precarious lifting her, but we did well once we got going. Walking sideways through the jungle is not exactly fun, but we had a system. We went feet-first so that Micheal didn't have to walk backward. Walt carried our stuff and navigated all the dips and roots and streams. Kate kept us entertained, I think to take her mind off the jarring pain in her leg. Finally, she did cry out, and we came to a halt.

"Shit, Doc," Sawyer murmured. "Help me."

"How?"

"My arms aren't keeping her steady."

"Let's switch."

"No. I just need another arm. Put both of yours under her knees. I think it'll be okay if her knees are bent."

So I moved my right arm from her calves to under her knee, then I slid my left arm between Sawyer's. With our arms alternating like that, we had a much better grip on Kate's legs. I could feel the sweat covering his arms, and his forehead dripped on her splint. He leaned over her, his head nearly meeting mine. He said, "That's better, Doc. Much better." He turned his arms to grip my elbows with his hands, and I did the same. He locked eyes with me briefly and turned to the others, saying, "Let's mush."

to be continued… (I know this wasn't much of a cliffhanger. Just trust me and read the last chapter.)