"You said to me,
'Son, one day you'll be a man--and men can do terrible things.'
Yes they can."
Something Corporate

Chapter Twelve

Later, Walt's father is dozing—he has been awake and racked with fear all night, and though he is sitting relatively upright, his head has nodded down to his chest. Walt has been inspected to everyone's liking, and given a new shirt. Though people still come to ask him how he is, and what happened, the excitement around it has died down a bit, as people realize he's not there simply to entertain their curiosity. The boy gets up from his father's side, and walks deeper into the caves, looking for Heather.

He finds her and Sawyer, Sawyer propped up against the cave wall not much unlike his father, only Walt can tell that somehow Sawyer is still awake. Heather is asleep near him, and he has fashioned a cocoon of blankets around her—Walt can see that despite this, she seems to still be shivering. Sawyer looks up to the boy, resettles himself. His eyes are bloodshot, and Walt wonders if he's actually been crying, or if it's just from the stress and not sleeping.

"Hey kiddo."

"Hi."

"You checking up on her?" Walt didn't know what to expect, but general kindness wasn't it. He mostly expected Sawyer to blame him, and had been prepared for that. Walt nods, comes over to Sawyer and Heather. "Yeah, maybe you can tell me something about what happened then. Though I'm sure they've nearly beat it out of you by now, right?" Walt shrugs, sits down. He's still watching Sawyer warily, ready for the grown man to lash out at him.

"I'm sorry," Walt says looking at the ground.

"Well kid, then that makes two of us, dunit?" Walt doesn't respond directly, and then Sawyer sighs, pushes his hair out of his face. "What did you see? Is there anything I can do?"

"She feels like it was her fault, what happened between you two." Walt looks away, but Sawyer is watching him closely.

"You know about that, then."

"I know about a lot more than that," Walt replies. "It was like sharing lives."

"Feel like giving me any pointers then?" Walt is silent, and Sawyer whistles low through his teeth. "Yeah, it's personal. I understand." But Walt it walking on his knees closer to Heather, leaning down. He puts his ear to her temple, face twisted in concentration. "What is it-"

"Shh!"

"Well okay then."

Walt closes his eyes, and Sawyer shifts restlessly. Whatever the kid hears, he sure as hell doesn't, and that makes him uneasy. He opens his mouth to ask Walt what he sees, or hears, whatever he's doing, but Walt beats him too it.

"She's looking for someone," He says, seems to be listening very hard.

"Who?" Sawyer leans forward, as if maybe by getting closer he'll hear it too.

"Shh!" The man grits his molars together, rolls his eyes, but doesn't say anything else. The boy's lips are forming words, but he isn't speaking. Sawyer, not afraid of much of anything, is finding himself unsettled, disturbed by the sight. "She's looking for someone named James."

Sawyer, in spite of himself, physically reacts to this news, jerking backwards. Fortunately, Walt is too absorbed in what he's doing, and doesn't notice.

"Can she see him-"

"No. It's really dark, and it's raining everywhere." Sawyer watches as Walt shivers, as if caught out in the rain himself. "It's not that cold though. Just raining. And dark." The boy is wincing, and Sawyer imagines that it's because of how loud Heather might be in his head. Then without warning, Walt jumps backwards, eyes round as quarters in terror, inhaling in a sharp gasp. Sawyer jumps as well in shock. The boy is lying on the cave ground, breathing hard—Sawyer takes his shoulders, sits him up right.

"What is it? What did you see? What was it?" Walt's shoulders, small in Sawyer's hands, are shaking violently. Sawyer in his anticipation fights the urge to shake him further and knock an answer out of him.

"A man shot himself. In the head." There is a deadly recognition in the boy's eyes as he looks up the grown man. "He looked a lot like you."

There is a pause, and Sawyer's eyes are wide, watching the boy with a certain brutal intensity.

"It wasn't you though, was it?" Walt's glaring at him in a half-accusatory way, the other half curious, suspicious.

"Well that's obvious now ain't it?" Sawyer spits, meaner than he wanted it to be. "Do you know if she's going to be okay?" Walt looks at the ground, shrugs, and Sawyer's hands suddenly clutch the boy's shoulders, and he's fighting not to shake the little runt with all the strength in his body. "Is she going to be okay?"

"I don't know!" Walt shouts, and the sound echoes down the caves. Sawyer checks over each shoulder, lets go of him as Michael walks over. There is a moment where the father and Sawyer eye each other, but they're both in very different positions—for Michael, Walt is already saved. For Sawyer, the case is somewhat more complicated. As if knowing this, Michael does not start anything.

Sawyer hangs his head, slides back against the cave wall, and tries not to think about what the boy said.