Chapter Five

Sawyer was much too tall to bend over a sink to let Ana wash his hair. He complained to beat the band about it.

"This is way too awkward! I'm getting spasms in my back, my shoulder is killing me, and I won't even begin with how my neck feels like it's 'bout to pop right out of it's socket."

"I've known old folks who don't complain as much as you do. Look I can't reach your head and the water unless you bend over."

Sawyer stood water running down his face and neck. "Hell, if I knew I had to suffer this much, I would have passed. There has to be a better way to do this."

Rolling her eyes, she said, "Okay, big baby, wait here." Ana disappeared, leaving him to drip and wait for her return. She came back with a chair that she dropped by the sink.

She pointed to it and Sawyer sat down. She then used the cup she brought with her and put it under the faucet. She was about to pour the water when she realized that he still wore his shirt.

"You need to a least hold your head over the sink so that I can pour this water over your head."

Sawyer stared at her, but slowly stood up. He bent down and let her wet his hair thoroughly. She then let him sit while she loaded his hair with shampoo and lathered up.

Sawyer sighed with relief when he finally got to untwist his body and take a seat. His shoulder was stinging from the pressure he had placed on it. But the pain soon faded as Ana gently massaged his head. He didn't think the tough girl could be so delicate, but she treated his hair with loving care that surprised him.

Ana ran her fingers through his hair, stopping only to massage his head. She could tell that Sawyer was enjoying himself immensely. She saw his broad shoulders relax as he slid down in his seat.

"You're really good at this, Xena."

"I guess," was her only comment.

They remained in a comfortable silence as she cleaned his hair. Both are lost in their thoughts of the usual friendship that seemed to be taking place between the two of them. They both realized that they were becoming quite fond of each other. Neither knew much about the other, but that was okay. They could talk to each other and that, if nothing else, they could get some much needed tension released.

Sawyer would be fine not knowing everything about Ana because he had no intention of sharing everything about himself with anyone. But he needed to know one thing about her if he was going to keep talking to her.

"Do you honestly think you're dead?"

Ana froze. She hadn't expected the question, especially not from him. He had avoided asking her that since he stopped her from berating herself. She figured that it was old news, that he would leave well-enough alone.

"It doesn't matter," she replied. She went back to focusing on his hair, but she felt the numbness come.

"It matters to you," he said.

"That's right, to me, not to you, so forget it, okay?" She went for the cup. But Sawyer grabbed her wrist.

"Ana. What is eating you up so much that you are a walking time bomb wanting to snap? I wasn't kidding about hanging from the rafters. You're off, girl, and I just want to know what could break someone like you."

She faced him. "Like me? What's so special about me, Sawyer? I'm like everyone on this island. I have demons, I'm trapped in hell. What makes me different?"

"Your demons are eating you alive, that's what. I've only spoken to you since you've been down here, but I know it's more than what's happened on this island that's tearing you apart."

She pulled from him. Ripping on the faucet, she filled the cup with water.

"Stand up. Let me rinse out your hair."

"Stop evading, Chica. Tell me what's the…"

The water hit him dead in his face. Sawyer blew his breath out but another wave of water hit him in his face. Shaking his head, he blinked his eyes open and glared.

There was a funny smile on her face as she watched Sawyer slowly stand.

"My demons are off limits."

Sawyer almost growled. He was drenched. Slowly, he removed his wet shirt, causing. Ana's eyebrow to arch.

Man, he has nice body, she thought, as his shirt hit the floor. Slowly, he approached her. Ana held her ground until he was inches from her face, forcing her to crane her neck.

"What cha go and do that for?" he said in a deadly whisper.

Ana rested her hand on the edge of the sink and leaned to the side.

"Maybe you'll learn to mind your business," she said.

They faced-off waiting. Sawyer reached forward and in a quick move, lifted Ana off the ground. Though it sent a sharp pain in his arm, he took the wiggling woman to the showers and dumped her before turning on the water.

Ana gasped in shock that Sawyer was able to pick her up with his wounded arm. But in a swoosh she was up in the air, body pressed against his muscular frame. She heard him grunt and she tried to wiggle out of it but couldn't. Before she could say a word, she was splashed with fast springing water.

"You ass-backward, redneck!" she screamed before taking the cup she had in her hand, filling it with water and throwing it at him.

Sawyer ducked, but not enough to avoid all the water. It hit him low, wetting part of the front and the side of his jeans. He came back at her just as she was filling the cup again, but he grabbed her hand and forced her to hit herself with the water. She pulled him under the spray, getting him just as wet as she was.

They splashed each other for five minutes, passing insults back and forth until they both started laughing like hyenas. The laughter died down, and Ana and Sawyer stood under the water, holding each other, bodies touching. They stared at each other, an electric attraction flying between them. They were close enough to start something, but Sawyer let go and Ana cleared her throat.

"You know what? At least you are cleaner than you were before," Ana said turning off the water.

Sawyer snorted, stepping out of the shower. He looked at Ana, who had just pulled off her tank, leaving her in a bra. He watched her wring out her shirt. Then she wriggled out of her pants. It was then that he noticed the faint scars on her lower abdomen. They took his focus away from watching her strip.

Ana felt his eyes on her stomach. Her face saddened as she looked up at him.

"What happened?"

"It's the reason I feel dead," she whispered, walking past him.

In the living room, Ana was sitting on the couch with legs drawn up to her chin. Sawyer came in, shirtless, pants hanging low on his waist. Though the jeans were wet, he didn't bother taking them off. He went to a chair and dragged it in front of Ana. He turned the chair around and sat in it backwards, arms resting on top on the chair back.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Ana's eyes opened to stare at Sawyer, noting the concern in his. What she really wanted was for him to go away, but he didn't. And for the moment, she didn't feel like avoiding him. So for the second time in five hours, she revealed another part of herself to Sawyer.

"I failed to protect myself and paid a high price for it. I did something about it but I…it didn't help. Then I come here, and again I failed to protect people. And the one time I think I am, it turns out terrible. I have been trying to find a way to feel alive for so long, and nothing I do seems to make it go away." She turned away from him before saying, "I feel cold and I don't know how to make it go away."

Sawyer thought a moment. What could he say? He was sitting on his own guilt. He truly didn't know how to handle his own, yet here he was asking about hers. Though she was vague, he understood her larger point. She thought she screwed up, tried make up for it, and it didn't ease the pain. And then after getting thrown on the island of Dr. Moreau, she still couldn't chase away the demons. They were made worse.

"Look, babe. You said it right in the shower. We all got problems. You need to understand that you ain't the only one crackin' up on this island. I woke up with Freckles leaning over me talking about how I reminded her of some man that disgusts her. I mean, what the hell!

"Bottom line. We all are being chased by demons. We just got to recognize it and accept it. And when the time comes, we even have to deal with them. But until that time, if talking to someone makes ya feel better, well come to me, Xena, and I'll listen."

Ana stared at him suspiciously.

Sawyer put on his signature grin. "As to ya being dead, I can attest to the fact that you're very much alive because I never found a corpse that ran its mouth as much as you do. I don't know, though. I mean, you could be a zombie lady waiting to eat my brains."

Ana laughed then. "I wouldn't waste my energy biting into that hollow head of yours. Besides, if I want brains I would go the doctor before taking to yours air head."

She stood up and stretched her lean body, providing all kinds of interesting fantasies for Sawyer. He drank in her form like a fine wine, memorizing the contours of her body. Sawyer was instantly jealous of Jack for having this woman's attention beyond the friendly capacity. That bastard has all the luck. Loony or not, Xena is a nice piece of…

"I told you that you like my body," she said, disrupting Sawyer's thoughts. She turned on her heel and went to the room with the beds, leaving him to deal with the realization that it was not just her body that he liked.

When she got there, she took a deep breath. Telling Sawyer the abridged version of her issues took a lot out of her, but she felt better. In fact, she began to realize that she was letting the past haunt her, because she wasn't ready to let it go. Sawyer was partly right about demons. They were chasing everybody. The trick was in the dealing with them. Keep running or facing them. Ana knew she had to face hers. The first step is admitting that no amount of therapy in the world would make her feel better about losing her baby. Even if she didn't know at the time she was pregnant, her decision was dumb and it cost her. Case closed.

Her eyes stung with tears at the thought, but she pushed them back. She knew there was nothing she could have done to help those taken. And she knew her fear of losing again was partially to blame for Shannon getting shot. Exhaling slowly, she walked over to a bed and sat down. She pulled up a blanket and wrapped herself in it. She forced herself to truly examine her life up that point. By the time it was over, she had shed a couple of tears.

She roughly wiped them away before saying I am Ana Lucia Cortez. I am a survivor. I will not let this kill me. I am not dead. I live one day at a time. And that's okay.

Sawyer watched her from a distance, hearing the words she didn't realize she had said out loud. With a nod, he turned, leaving her alone.

Sawyer was flipping through an old magazine when Ana walked back into the living room. She noticed that his hair was light and full, not waxy as before. He was still shirtless, but he had taken off the jeans. She saw them laid out on the table that had been cleared of their plates. She took in his tall frame, long legs were lean and muscular, and those boxer briefs were only a thin veil of cover for his private parts. She had a good sense that his balls weren't so scrawny as she said earlier.

Finally, she came completely into the room and sat next to him on the couch. He barely looked up. They just sat there, Ana drawing comfort from his presence.

Sawyer closed the magazine and glanced over at Ana.

"You back together again, Humpty-Dumpty?"

She smirked. "Yeah, I'm back together again. That's for asking, Maury."

"Maury?"

She smiled brighter. "I didn't think you'd like being called Oprah."

"Cheez girl, please. I can't believe women watch that claptrap."

"I don't watch Oprah."

He shook his head. "Well, why not Dr. Phil?"

"First, because Libby is that person, and God, that's too annoying. Second, you haven't the capacity to be a Dr. Phil. Lastly, that would be giving you way too much credit."

"Damn, ain't no pleasing you."

She shrugged. "Seriously. Thanks."

He stared into her eyes. "No problem."