Chapter 13.
She took a step back to admire their handiwork, cocking her head to one side first and then the other to get a different perspective on the shelter that they had spent all day creating.
So what if it looked like a mass of blue plastic strung up between three palm trees? So what if the bamboo walls that they had lashed together listed to one side slightly, as if they were caught in high winds? So what if they had built it out, away from the close-knit community residing at the beach?
The tarps that they had used for the roof were waterproof, they'd be dry at least. The walls were sturdy and strong, if a little lopsided, and above all else, offered them a degree of privacy that no one had had since their plane had crashed down from it's flight path. The same went for the place that they had chosen to build it. The other survivors were still well within sight. Still within shouting distance if the need ever arose to get their attention quickly and yet they were far enough away to avoid the curious stares and whispers. The gossip that was no doubt taking the island by storm, like wildfire.
'That jerk, Sawyer has shacked up with the bitch who almost killed Shannon. Don't they deserve each other? Don't they make the perfect, nasty couple?'
Claire had come to welcome them with a warm smile, though she was still slightly unnerved by the fight that she had been witness to in the caves the past evening. Part of the young mother was still loyal to Kate and Shannon, the women that she had survived the crash with and yet her nature was to be friendly to everyone. She didn't stop to talk for long. Just enough to give Ana and Sawyer a break from the hostile glares and snooping eyes that watched their every move.
Shannon and Sayid had watched them pass warily from their own combined shelter, the Iraqi man, perhaps subconsciously and perhaps not, moving to stand in front of the still recovering blonde woman. As if he thought that Ana-Lucia might whip out a gun and try to shoot her again. As if she had done what she had on purpose.
The other survivors had given them a wide birth as they strolled past, dragging all of Sawyer's collected suitcases and her bags stacked up on one of the blue sheets. A makeshift sled that made the whole 'moving' process immensely easier. Eyes had watched them while people whispered together behind hands and tree trunks. Even, if not more so, after Ana had turned her scowl upon them and told them brusquely that they should 'take a picture. It would last longer'.
Sawyer stopped beside her, drinking deeply from his water bottle before passing it on to her and using his removed shirt to wipe sweat from his face. The removed shirt that she'd had to help him out of when the pain in his shoulder had made him incapable of doing so himself. She suspected, however, that he had played it up in order to enlist her aid and had their shelter been built at that moment, had they been hidden by it's walls and ceiling instead of staring at what looked remarkably like a pile of junk out in the open, his shirt wouldn't have been the only article of clothing removed.
"Done good there, Girl-Fight." he stated, also considering their new shelter, much larger and more stable than either of their previous ones, their belongings finally all tucked away in their places inside.
"Ain't bad, I guess." she agreed, scrutinizing it for a moment longer before turning away and glancing out to the sea where the sun sank low, skimming the horizon and night seeped down, darkening the sky. "Better get that fire going, huh? It'll be dark soon."
Sawyer shrugged, sinking down beside the fire pit that they had dug earlier, ringed by rocks to contain it, as she reached for one of the lit torches that skirted the establishment. She doused the kindling ready placed with the flickering flames, sparking the dried, brittle wood to life before returning to fuss over replacing the torch and coaxing the fire brighter for a long drawn out second. Until there was nothing more for her to do but sit down beside him and stare into it's light, warmth coating her face while leaving her curled back open to the coolness of coming night.
It was awkward at first. She and Sawyer had been busy all day with dismantling their tents, moving and then rebuilding. They hadn't talked yet about the kiss nor Sawyer's plea to forget their pasts and for the first time, Ana felt slightly nervous, a deep buzzing in the pit of her stomach.
They had bantered and argued and taunted each other since that morning and she was comfortable with that. She enjoyed the verbal sparring, she enjoyed the flirtation and the lack of seriousness that their arguments held. And yet she knew that they had to talk sincerely and properly if they were going to get this…thing, whatever it was, to work.
"I've been thinkin'." she spoke suddenly, clearing her throat and daring to look at him, sideways.
Sawyer snorted in response to her comment, his eyes flashing to hers.
"Wow, did it hurt you, Chica?" he chuckled at his own words and Ana swung out with her hand, clipping him across the back of his head, irately making him hiss and scowl before questioning her about 'why' and 'what' she had been thinking about.
She didn't respond immediately, instead shifting slightly to one side and reaching deep into her pocket, pulling out a wad of paper, covered with scrawled names and addresses and phone numbers, handing them over to Sawyer, placing them in his lap.
"What? You couldn't be normal and get a little black book like everyone else, Sweetcheeks?" he chuckled, thumbing through them all, squinting blue eyes scanning over them in the failing light.
Ana drew one knee up, resting her elbow upon it so that she could, in turn, support her head in her hand as she turned to watch him closely.
"Ain't the numbers and addresses of all the boyfriends I've had, Bucko." she growled in reply, scowling at him, though somewhat half-hearted in her ire. She paused for an extended heartbeat, until he had sifted the entire way through and returned to the very first.
"Well, if they ain't the contact details of men I'm gonna have to hunt down and castrate when we find ourselves a way of 'Mystery Island', you gonna shed a little light on these for me, Chica?" he queried, quirking an eyebrow and glancing up at her as he gave the pile a shake, making the papers rustle.
"They're his." she responded, quietly, continuing before Sawyer had the opportunity to ask 'who' exactly she was talking about. "All the addresses and numbers that I've been given trying to track him down."
Sawyer's jaw clenched, teeth working as they ground together and he rifled through them again, stopping on one in particular and plucking it out. He reached for his makeshift glasses, sliding them across his eyes so that he didn't have to strain to read and give himself an unnecessary headache.
"L.A…" he muttered, almost to himself Ana thought at first, until his sapphire gaze, magnified by his lopsided spectacles, flashed up at her. He knew who she had been talking about suddenly. "You were going to L.A…To find him?" he demanded, voice raising in volume with the notion that he had traversed the world in search of a man that had been living in Los Angeles the whole time. "He's been in L.A? All these years?"
Ana shook her head as much as she could and shrugged.
"I don't know. I dunno if it was just another wild goose-chase. Would I get another sob story from some heartbroken teenager young enough to be my daughter and another address in some other country?" she shrugged a second time, answering her own questions once more. "I don't know. I'll never know now and to be straight with you, I don't really care anymore."
Sawyer watched her closely, studied her dark eyes as she reached her hand out to take back her stack of information. And he believed her. He knew that she spoke the truth when she told him that she no longer cared about finding and paying back her father for screwing up her life. She didn't give a sht and she'd possibly stopped caring a long time ago, while she'd been chasing the ghost of Robert Sawyer across the globe, like he had himself. It was all that either of them had known and perhaps that was why they had not given up sooner and salvaged what remain of their messed up lives.
Ana's hand brushed against his as she received back the papers. Fingers smooth and warm against his own skin which previously had felt so cold and callused.
She smile sadly, glancing down at them once more, running a bitten down thumbnail across the creased surface much as he did when reading his letter.
Everyone, even Ana-Lucia, had their burdens, their own demons to face before they could truly move on and as she began speaking again, he watched the struggle to let go, to release herself from her never-ending quest, flare across her features, mingling with firelight.
"These are my past," she began. "These addressed and numbers and names are part of that past you said you wanted to forget." her fist clenched suddenly, screwing them into a tight ball, knuckles turning white with the sheer force that she used to compact them. "And I said I wanted to give it a shot." she moved her fist, suddenly a blur of motion as she tossed the scrunched up papers into the dancing flames, drawing a hiss and a crackle of protest at being disturbed.
White paper and black and blue writing charred and curled against the heat. Turned brown and black and then slate grey as the fire consumed it hungrily, turning it to ash. And Ana seemed to relax, to release a sigh of relief as her shoulders bobbed up and down in a great expulsion of tension that had been coiling inside of her for years. Since her daddy had left when she was a child. Her face was clear of regret of worry or anger and she laughed, deep in her throat, leaning back onto her elbows, semi-recumbent, as she settled her gaze onto him.
"All my life I've been waiting to kill my Papi." she beamed, dark eyes reflecting the dancing fire. "And I just have. I killed Roberto Miguel Cortez and it feels great!"
Sawyer couldn't help but chuckle along with her as she let her head fall back onto her shoulders and stared up into the dark night sky. His hand curled into his own pocket, drawing out the burden that he had carried, similar to Ana, for as long as he could remember.
His fingers tugged it from it's envelope. Creased and time stained and he read over it, even though every word was burned into his memory, would stay with him. He knew it by heart and by heartache and even as he took Ana's lead and crunched it up, tossing it into the flames beside hers, he knew that for him letting go would take a little bit longer.
They watched together as the second ball of off white paper fizzled and crackled and suffered the same fate as the first, swallowed by the ravenous, white-hot blaze. They stared until the night around them painted everything black, in hues of shadow. Until Ana-Lucia shifted, rolling onto her side to face him instead of their fiery past.
"So." she stated, amusement curling the corner of her lips up into a definite smirk, any nostalgia or sadness long since erased.
"So." Sawyer countered, lying beside her on his back, folded arms pillowing his head as he sent his gaze up into the sky. "So what?"
Ana rolled her eyes and he sensed it, even if he didn't see, snorting to himself.
"So…are you gonna finish what you started this morning or what?" she demanded, lacing feigned ire and impatience through her words as she propped her head up onto one elbow. Her words, reminiscent of her jovial goading of him when they had knelt together in her tent, caused desire to stir once more in the pit of his stomach and he smiled wide, turning his dimpled face towards her.
"Ain't no time like the present, I guess."
The End
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