"I have to go," he said, tripping over his words without the slightest hint of grace or eloquence.
Kate's eyes danced, "Where?" She pried, almost certain of what he'd meant to say. But not entirely certain, as he ignored her, scowling a little. Maybe he doesn't love me, she thought, yearning to tell him to stay with her. That'll probably piss him off. Kate watched with sorrow as he turned away from her and stood, not glancing at her again as he left. The moment was already ruined, she couldn't resist, "have fun, then."
Sauntering away, Sawyer's expression melted from the false scowl into one of worry, why did she reject me like that? Was I being an asshole? "We'll fix this my ass," he mumbled to himself. She hated him.
Kate followed him with her eyes, not daring to move for fear of hurting her head, tracing his outline until his well sculpted figure vanished completely from view. How could he just walk away? What was wrong with him? Sulkily, Kate turned over onto her side, surveying the bland Venetian blinds that covered the circular, artificially lit window. An alarm started beeping, echoing about the hatch, pulsing inside her head, and then, the sounds of computer keys tacking away, and a shuffling noise. The godawful beeping stopped.
Kate massaged her forehead gingerly, she wanted to go outside and just sit and think. It was hot in the hatch, and the air was thick with an indescribable smell of dust and age. You'd think it'd be cleaned up by now. She couldn't bear it, she hadn't moved her legs since she'd stumbled while running, she had to get up, had to walk somewhere. Carefully, she pushed her body up from the mattress with her arms, cringing as she experienced an awful head rush. Her head was throbbing again. She felt as if someone was beating her skull with a hammer.
I need air, she thought desperately, pulling herself from the bed, and stumbling dizzily once on her feet. Grabbing the sidepost of the bed, she regained her composure, straightening up, but feeling nauseous all the same. Slowly, she took a tentative step to the airlock that led out of the hatch. One foot in front of the other, she finally reached it, weakly turning the circular handles until she had opened both doors and stumbled into the leafy green world outside.
She looked around, catching herself from another potential fall, no one was there. Quietly, she crept away from the outside of the hatch, following her feet on what she thought seemed like a remotely familiar path. She didn't come this way often. All the better, she realized, because that probably meant no one else would be coming this way. No one to scold her and tell her to go lay down, and state the obvious about her being hurt. Shuffling through the dead leaves on the soft dirt floor of the jungle, she caught herself from treetrunk to treetrunk, using them as a way to keep from collapsing from dizziness.
Fresh air'll do me good. A strange feeling consumed Kate as she continued to make her way, alone, through the jungle. She wanted Sawyer to be following her this time. It was evening, it would probably be dark before she could head back to the hatch. Maybe she would just sleep there when she got there, she thought. She would have some time to think, at least.
The rather indistinct sound of splashing water found her ears, her eyes lit up amidst her aimless stumbling. Just a little further. Still skittering about incoherently, she found her way through a thick gathering of trees, swinging past them into a vast clearing. It wasn't the same as the first time she'd seen it. Then the water had been green (with bodies in it, she recalled with disdain, but also something far more important), and had at least twinkled happily. Now it looked cold, there were leaves falling all around the pool, giving the area a look of general illness. The waterfall, cascading over the jutting rockface, was not warm and full of life. It looked steely, and gray, and made a slapping sound, instead of a giggling bubble, as it hit the surface of the water below.
She wondered in dismay if this was for any reason other than the change in season. Well, certainly, she had been here last with a companion. To swim. And now she was here to sit on a rock and think to herself. Of course her perception of her surroundings would change. Still feeling nauseous, she secured the bandage on her forehead and began hiking up the dryest side of the rockface. She experienced several moments of intense vertigo, due to her dizzyness and the change in movement, but quickly readjusted. Pulling herself finally onto an (almost) flat rock, she stretched out on it, leaning back on her arms. It was hard, and quite cold, shadowed by an overhanging tree branch.
She looked across the pond, surveying the scape of evanescent beauty, straining her eyes more and more as the sun began its descent from its zenith. She was disappointed, this place had changed, just as she had. There should have been at least one constant around here, something she could lean on.
Sliding back the door to the hatch's showering room, she almost jumped out of her skin. He was standing there, just outside, scanning her towel-wrapped figure. "Wh-... uh... Sawyer... what are you doing here?" Kate asked nervously.
"Oh nothin', sweetcheeks," he said playfully, "waitin' to use to the shower."
"You're sick," she said sternly, "you should be laying down." She made a move to guide him back to the bedroom.
"Oh I feel fine," he said heartily, grinning broadly and resisting her prompt.
"Really?" She asked, with mock-concern, quirking a brow.
"Yeah, great," he said, continuing to grin, "you?
She sighed, exasperated, but unable to suppress a smile, he didn't ask such petty questions, that just wasn't the way Sawyer was, he wanted something, "What?" She asked, almost laughing at him.
In an instant, he was kissing her again, pressing his rough lips to hers, drawing her in, closer to him. Oh, Kate realized suddenly why he was standing there. As they pulled apart, she breathed deeply of the air around him. As she leaned forward on her toes to kiss him again, he placed a hand on her lips, "Uh uh, Freckles," he chided, "wouldn't wanna spoil ya'." He lowered his own hand and continued his deed, moving his kisses to her neck, fiercely kissing along its graceful curves. She couldn't help feeling slightly irritated with him, one day he couldn't keep his hands off her, and on another, he would entirely ignore her presence. Suddenly the ground beneath her feet disappeared as he scooped her up in his arms.
"Sawyer?" She asked laughingly, "What are you--"
Suddenly they were back in the room where the bunkbeds could be found, she found herself hoping desperately that no one else was down in the Hatch, but realized with a pang that it was likely that Locke or worse, Jack, would be down there -- her thoughts were cut short as she found herself standing bare in the still, warm air. Sawyer had discarded her towel, and was sloppily trying to remove his belt and jeans with fumbling hands. She bit her lip to keep from laughing aloud at him, wondering briefly whether she should attempt to cover herself or not.
------
He breathed heavily, shaking a sweat-sodden strand of hair from his face as he rolled away from her onto his back. His bare chest moved up and down in unison with hers, as they needily fought to catch up for lost air. Kate realized, almost laughing, that she had hardly breathed.
Kate's memories of that day weren't passionate ones. Quite to the contrary, she thought, sitting on the flat rock above the pond as the sun continued its descent, after the fact, she had felt horribly empty, alone. And most of all, inexplicably, guilty. She hadn't felt loved then, still didn't. Kate lay down on the rock, curling into a fetal position in the ever darkening stillness of the area. She wanted someone to come out here and find her. She felt someone should have.
She thought, with a small spark of envy for whoever was in his presence now, that Sawyer should have come out to find her. She had fooled herself, it seemed, into thinking he cared enough to do that. Just another apathetic man. There were a lot of those in her life. Curling up, Kate murmured to herself, "you are not going to cry." There had been enough self pity for one day, she thought, agonizingly squeezing her eyelids together and turning her face up to the heavens, "I am not that weak."
Damn I need a cigarette. Sawyer moodily kicked sand up into the fire he'd lit on the beach several minutes ago. If he hadn't smoked them all the first two weeks on the island, this wouldn't be a problem. He sunk down beside the fire. She's probably pissed at me, he thought dismally, trying to figure out how Kate had reacted to his abrupt, uncalled-for leaving of her. She was right, they could have fixed their relationship, right then and there, but as usual, he had gone and fcked it up.
He glared into the fire. He could still go back to the hatch, and tell her sorry. Again he was faced with the all too common problem of appearing soft. He could always come up with an excuse, he mused, searching his mind for ideas. "Just checkin' on her", nope, wouldn't work. "Lookin' for Jack", no, that one wasn't gonna cut it. "Ah," he exclaimed freshly, murmuring to himself, "Lookin' for smokes." He stood from his crouching position. It was believable, he thought, setting off in the dusk, it wasn't even a complete lie, he realized, a new bounce in his step.
At the hatch's main entrance, he felt perfectly confident with what to say to her. He was going to be a man, for once, he resolved, determined. Inside, he stepped into the living area of the hatch, the words he meant to say dancing lightly on his lips. His heart thudded loudly inside his chest when he looked to the beds and could find Kate nowhere. The couch, empty. The chair in front of the computer, empty. Cautiously, he made his way to the shower room, gently rapping on the door. No answer. Softly, he pulled it back to find... nothing. Heart beating frenziedly now, Sawyer headed back to the living area, calling in an uncharacteristically soft tone, "Kate?"
He cleared his throat, taking on a gruffer shade of his own voice, trying to hide any shred of worry, "Kate?"
Jack appeared in the doorway from the main entrance hall, "Sawyer?" Jack looked around the room, his expression one of utter puzzlement, "Hey... where's Kate?"
Sawyer's anger boiled over in a flash, he approached Jack, gaining a natural high from his own fevered blood, "I dunno doctor, you were supposed to be watchin' her." he growled.
Jack's eyes narrowed menacingly, "I told her to stay there, I was only gone for an hour, Locke was supposed to --"
The sharp sound of bone colliding with soft cheek-flesh echoed through the empty room, winding his arm up for another blow, Sawyer grated, "Why didn't you watch her? It was your responsibiltiy." Sensations of protectiveness filled him, he was amazed at himself, not only for again proceeding to beat the living hell out of the leading authority figure, but because he was not doing this for his personal gain.
Jack drew back before Sawyer could hit him again, getting a blow in on his chest, he dodged backward, "I don't know where she is," he said gravely, raising both eyebrows, panting for breath.
Furious, Sawyer reached out for the doctor's shirt, grabbing it by the collar. Jack jerked away, winding his own arm back this time. Sawyer lunged forward instantly and grabbed it. The pair stood, locked in a show of equal force. Not only had the doctor ruined his plan, he had lost track of Kate. That was a blasphemy in itself. Relaxing his grip on Jack's arm, he gritted his teeth, brows meeting over irate eyes, "Well, looks like you found yourself a new walkin' partner, doc, 'cause we're gonna go find her."