"Who'd you think you're kidding?
He's the earth and heaven to you.
Try to keep it hidden—honey we can see right through you."
Disney Hercules Soundtrack

Chapter Nineteen

"What do you want?" Sawyer asks, automatically sneering as he sees Heather come around a bend of the beach, towards the raft.

"To talk."

"Got nothing to say to you."

"Good," Heather responds, standing over him and blocking his reading light as he lounges by a tree. "Then you can listen." He's trying to hide his interest, but she can see through the act. "I know why you're leaving-"

"Do you?"

"I thought you didn't have anything to say?" Sawyer makes a 'Continue as you will' gesture with his hand, expression becoming even more sour than before. Heather however is not here to make him mad, because she knows he won't listen to her at all if he is. "Right. Sawyer," She kneels down, trying to break even with him, though she knows her chances are slim. "Setting off on that raft isn't going to get rid of your guilt."

His body tenses, tone curt, angering: "What makes you think I feel guilty?"

"Because everyone with a rough childhood does."

"Rough?" He asks smiling coldly, eyes glinting dangerously at the understatement. "Either way, sweetheart, I'm not a kid anymore."

"If you run away on that raft, you might as well be." Her delivery is almost as cold, and there is no ounce of pity in it—Sawyer, at the least, can't accuse her of that, because she knows damn well how he'll react to it if she slips.

"Look who's talking about running away," He retorts.

"Everything I've run from is right here on this island," Her eyes reflect in his with the same intensity. "Not in my past."

"You think you know so much about me," Sawyer growls, with all the malice of a cornered animal. "Let me tell you honey, you're all the same. You're the type to fall for the fuck-up, the bad boy, just so you get to fix him, make yourself feel better." The last word is guttural, spat between his teeth.

Oh Sawyer, she thinks. If you're expecting me to break down and cry, or slap you and walk off in a huff, you're going to have to try harder than that.

"Tell me something, then. When have I been trying to fix you? When have I ever coerced you into anything? I've never asked anything more of you than what you've asked of me. Though I'll say it, I'd prefer if you stopped wallowing in the shithole you've made yourself-"

"I used you; you were convenient. That's all, sugar." Again, trying to press her, drive her away—Heather has a feeling that this isn't about hurting her at all, but part of the same backwards plan of punishing himself.

"Were you using me when you told me where all your stuff is hidden? How about when you came up to the caves to apologize? Was it convenience when you camped out by my side for days whenever I could barely sit up? You're right, what a fucked up, bad boy thing to do." At this Sawyer stands, and Heather does too.

"Why do you think you know me?" His body language is more severe than it was before, but this is mostly in trying to compensate for his tone—his question actually does sound curious, instead of threatening.

"Because I know more than you think." I know that you like when it rains at night, that you want me safe, that you're afraid of staying because it hurts to want to heal. "I know that you're going on that raft because you're trying to punish yourself—not just for the things you've done, but because you think that guilt is weak. I know that you're going on that raft because you're afraid that if you try to get better you might fail."

"I don't feel guilty and I'm not afraid," She isn't nearly convinced, and her expression lets him know that loud and clear. Sawyer is standing less straight, and she has managed to take some of the wind out of him.

"Okay." Heather takes one of his hands in hers, rubs it lightly, tenderly. He doesn't remove his hand, but his body tenses, uncomfortable. "I won't think you're weak if you change your mind. Your call." His resolution is stony, silent as she makes her way back down the beach.

- - -

Heather effectively avoids Sawyer, and vice versa. Some nights she sleeps in the caves, others she spends out—though she never blocks Walt out of her mind again, knows that it makes him uneasy when she's alone. As far as she knows, Sawyer does not come looking for her, but Walt lets her know that the man seems to have periods where he completely looses his train of thought, or stares off into nothingness.

At least he's thinking about it, is her only consolation, and even that becomes threadbare quickly, as the raft is ever more ready to set off.

Then the talk of the "Others" coming effectively spreads to Heather (and everyone else)—Heather skirts around the others, finding Jack when there are relatively few people around him, before he sets off for the dynamite.

"Jack, can we talk?" Jack sees the concern in her eyes, and though he is a very busy man, pauses, takes her aside for a moment.

"What is it?"

"I don't think anyone's coming for us. Not right now at least."

"Do you think Rousseau's lying?" His question is very serious, lowering his tone. He may not believe in any kind of sixth sense for himself, but he's seen Heather's ability, and he's not going to write off whatever she has to say.

"No. At least, she doesn't think she is. But you can't trust her."

"I wasn't planning on it. So what do you think?"

"All I know Jack is that ever since… ever since Walt, I've been able to feel things before they happen. On…" And here she looks away from his eyes for the briefest moment, and then forces herself to meet his gaze again. "On the day Boone died, I felt terrible all day, and right before I heard the news-" Her mouth grimaces, unable to properly describe it, but it seems that Jack has a feel for what she's saying. "There's none of that now. I don't think we're in any danger." Then, with a wry smirk, as an afterthought: "Not anymore than usual, at least."

"I hope you're right, but-"

"But you have to play it on the safe side. I understand. I just… just so you know. Be safe."

"We'll try."

As Jack walks off, Heather passes Hurley who is following him. She brushes him for a short instant, but all of a sudden, a random thought pops into her head, and she's asking him something before she's aware that she was even thinking about it. "Hey Hurley?"

"Uhm, yeah?" He turns, looking obviously preoccupied. They have never been on close terms, but there is no bad blood between them.

"Your CD player. Can I have it?" Oh. And now her conscious mind has caught up with her subconscious, which must have associated the large man with the thing.

"Yeah, uh, sure. I mean, the batteries are dead, so it won't-"

"Thanks, I owe you one." Heather smiles, and then takes off across the beach, back towards the caves—for the first time on the island she seems to be running with for a positive reason.