"She don't have a flame, she'd prefer to burn out like a torch."
Something Corporate

Chapter Ten

It is the dead of night, the early hours of morning. Jack assumes that the sun will be rising with the next couple of hours, and his worry has grown into an acute sense of anxiety and restlessness. Heather looks much paler now, and her posture is more slumped—sweat has broken on her brow, and she looks very sick. Continuously reminding himself of his promise, he tries to watch Walt instead. The swelling in Walt's stomach has receded remarkably, and his breathing is coming more and more easily—his eyes appear more alert, though they do not leave the flame.

More time passes, and Jack can hear Sawyer shuffle outside of the screen, still awake. He decides that after this next round of giving Walt water, he'll go talk to Sawyer again, because he feels guilty otherwise. The sky is at its darkest point, preparing for dawn. When he goes to Walt, he can see that Heather is soaked in sweat, and her hands are shaking badly—fear is driven like a spike into his chest, a gasp caught in his throat. Michael just looks onward, blank. Jack has offered him water, food, and narcotics, but Michael does not acknowledge his presence.

Jack recalls his promise, has no idea what he's supposed to do. If he draws Heather back, not only does that break his promise, but Walt could not be finished and die. For all he knows, Heather could be mentally damaged if torn away. But she'll kill herself anyway, won't she? Isn't that what's she's doing, more or less? He tries to push those thoughts away, tries to reassure himself that she must know what she's doing. After all, how else could she?

He raises a capful of water to Walt's lips.

"Sawyer," The boy whispers, and Jack spills the water in surprise.

"Walt?" Both grown men say at once. Jack leans closer, and Michael does too—the voice of his son breaking whatever spell had come over him. Michael slides to his knees, but is careful not to bump Heather.

"Jack-" Walt whispers, and Jack leans forward, his ear almost directly against the boys mouth. "Can't talk much. She'll hear." Shivers run down Jack's spine—why is Walt trying to hide something from Heather? What's going on? "Get Sawyer." The boy never looks away from the fire, but seems to be concentrating very hard. "Hurry!" He urges, and Jack immediately stands, leaving Michael to run his hands over the boys face, murmuring to him, eyes wide with hope.

"We need you," Jack tells Sawyer, as soon as he steps out from behind the screen. Sawyer's brow furrows, but he wastes no time in standing and following. "Walt called for you. I think it's about her." Sawyer drops to the ground next to the boy, and whenever he moves down to listen to him, Michael starts as if to stop him. "Michael." Jack reprimands and the man obviously bites his tongue, sits back. It's clear that he understands the necessity of not disturbing Heather, and he more than anyone else is not going to compromise that.

Sawyer sees how badly she is shaking, sees the sweat matting her hair, how pale she has become—and sends a look of pure disgust and loathing at Jack, before moving his ear near to the boy's mouth.

"I can't talk long. She can't find out. If she isn't done by the time the sun rises, stop her. Even if…" And Walt, at ten years old, pauses, wanting them to understand what he's saying. That he knows the consequences. "Even if she isn't done. She'll kill herself. Sunrise."

Sawyer nods, though Walt is still staring at the torch. Sawyer stands, and then turns on Jack, with nothing short of murder in his eyes.

"So what was the plan? Just let her do… do whatever she's doing until she dies?" His voice is quiet, but there is nothing friendly or amiable in his voice, serious enough to forgo referring to Jack as 'doc'. Jack backs up, is startled by the ferocity he sees in Sawyer. Michael watches them, mostly afraid that if they fight they'll upset Heather, and that might hurt his boy.

"Sawyer, I wouldn't let that-" But Sawyer cuts him off, a very large fist gripping the collar of Jack's shirt and pulling him in close.

"You're right. Because if it does happen, you're going to be the first one I come looking for." There is not doubt that this is a threat well-backed, and Jack is speechless for a moment, and realizes that he is staring down into killer's eyes. He doesn't know for a fact if Sawyer has ever killed anyone, but suddenly that doesn't seem impossible in the slightest.

"What- what did he say? What did Walt say?" Jack swallows hard, and Sawyer lets go of him, but doesn't move away at first.

"He said that if she doesn't stop by sunrise, then to stop her ourselves. He says that if we don't, she'll end up killing herself." Sawyer can see Jack thinking this over, and tilts his head in his familiar way, though there is nothing good-natured about it. "That's why she had me leave, isn't it? I sat out there for about six fucking hours because she's afraid I'll jump the gun, pull the plug, and she enlisted your help."

"She… made me promise that I wouldn't stop her, no matter what." Jack blinks, wants to look away from Sawyer's glare, but doesn't, forces himself to meet it. "And she made me promise that I would stop anyone that tries to stop her."

"You going to keep that promise come sunrise, Doc?" And now the old nickname comes back, but it's filled with venom and edged with razors. Sawyer's voice is barely more than a growl.

"No. If it's not done by sunrise, I'll help you stop her."

"That's the right answer."

- - -

Sawyer does not move from Heather's side, and grows increasingly agitated, shifting back and forth, as he watches Heather's shaking get worse. Now her whole body seems to be shivering, not just her hands. At the first sign of day break he is ready to pull her away, and hopes that that's what is needed. Jack leaves for a few moments, and returns with a bottle of prescription drugs.

At Sawyer's questioning glance, he says, "Valium. In case."

Sawyer swallows, sets his jaw, waits.