A/N: Alright, I'll admit it… this chapter did take longer to write than I thought it would. But it's here now, so all is forgiven, right?

…

Right?

dodges flying tomato

Alright, who threw that?

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COLEHARLEY: I plan to! Thanks, Coleharley.

Amber85: It is a beautiful song, isn't it? I love James Blunt too (I just bought the cd!) and I thought that song would fit nicely in there. It's been my second favorite ever since I bought the cd, after Goodbye My Lover (THE saddest song in the world, by the way! cries)

hottietom: Aw, you think the Shannon scene was sad? Well, thanks! That's what I was aiming for, after all! And yes, he may catch the crazy… or he may not. Just don't give anything away for my friendly readers… or they may not be friendly for much longer. Remember; you're my editor, not my advertiser. 

xXx-Destiny's-Angel-xXx: Thanks for the positive feedback! That really means a lot!

October Sky: Ah, you have many questions, young grasshopper. Patience, you must have. All will be revealed in time.

Orlando-crazy: Poor Sawyer indeed! I'm almost beginning to feel guilty!

GoldPhoenix1: Wow! This is your favorite story? I'm flattered! Thank you so much, that really means a lot! I never would have thought I would even make someone's favorite list, with all the wonderful fics you see floating around these days. Again, thank you!

Shall we take a look at the next chapter, then?

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Sawyer sat perfectly still in his tent, just thinking. He had been reading back through what he had written in his journal, and noticed a few interesting things. He had been thinking for quite some time now, and it wasn't the weather which was on his mind.

It was his lucky escape, and surprisingly speedy recovery. Of course, he wasn't fully recovered, but far more than he should be. And that wasn't where it ended. What about the small things, which he probably wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't actually sat down and thought about it? What about the conveniently placed puddle at the lake? What about finding the pen and diary just when he had needed them? Not to mention his amazing luck for surviving two - count 'em, two - lightning strikes?

Ever since the nearly fatal second strike, he had noticed his luck beginning to improve dramatically, starting, of course, with the basic, yet significant fact of his own survival. There were so many things he could recall that just seemed far too much in his favor; it was truly incredible he hadn't noticed it until now. The more he thought about it, the more he began to believe; it wasn't luck. It was phenomenon.

Sawyer played with the coin between his fingers, contemplating his next move. It was some sort of foreign coin; silver, about two centimeters in diameter, and with a big engraved picture of a sailing ship filing the whole of one side. Underneath, Sawyer could make out the tiny carved words spelling out; Endeavor.

He twirled the coin around in his fingers a few more times, then placed it between his thumb knuckle and index finger, ready to flip. This test should prove right or wrong his theory, or at least give him a good enough reason to pretend.

"Sawyer!" Kate's voice rose to a shrill peak as she skidded to a halt in the doorway of Sawyer's tent, closely followed by Sayid.

"Well, hell Freckles." He easily contained his surprise, hiding it behind a cat-like smirk. "I'm pleased to see you too."

The two newcomers, however, did not have as much luck hiding their shock, Kate especially, who was staring at Sawyer with wide eyes.

"Why… but…" She stammered. "You're not sick."

"Not so far as I know, Puddin'" Sawyer replied, shifting his shoulder slightly, gritting his teeth as an arrow of pain shot down from the wound. The pain killers Malone had given him were quickly wearing off. Dammit. "But hell, since you're here, may as well do the routine check-up, full cavity search and all that jazz. Tropical island, all sorts of nasty diseases floating around, better safe than sorry wouldn't you say, Freckles?" He turned his attention to Sayid. "What's with the house call, Ali? Looking to take the reins of this goddamned rock now that the Doc's out of the picture? I always thought you -"

"Don't." Kate cut him off sharply. "Don't say it like he isn't gonna get better." She waited for Sayid to back her up, but nothing came. "He's gonna get better."

"Yeah." Sawyer's tone of voice and expression were slightly off his usual sarcasm, but had the hint of sadness possessed by someone who was remembering something they would rather forget. Nevertheless, the mocking was still there. "It's nice to pretend, isn't it?"

Kate stared at Sawyer for a few seconds with sad eyes, haunted by her pain, haunted by Jack. They seemed to speak to Sawyer, to ask him why he had to take away what little hope she may have salvaged since the doctor got sick. Why he tried to help destroy her.

"Whether or not Jack gets better is another matter." Sayid broke the silence. "Right now, our main concern is the possible new victim of the sickness."

"Oh yeah?" Sawyer asked rudely. "And who's that?"

Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, a cold chill flooded into his body, and he realized what Sayid meant; who Sayid meant, and the look the Iraqi gave him only confirmed it. It was him.

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Sawyer's head hung limply, bouncing off his chest with every step Kate and Sayid took. They each supported one of his arms around their shoulders, letting his body hang between them; his feet dragging thought the sand, leaving deep tracks.

"Was it really necessary to hit him?" Kate finally asked Sayid, grunting slightly under Sawyer's weight.

The Iraqi paused before answering, considering his reply.

"Probably not." He admitted. "Although, it was unlikely that he would have come willingly."

"Unlikely." Kate echoed. "Hmm."

"Dudes." They both turned their heads towards the voice, and saw Hurley sitting cross-legged beside a fire, poking it with a stick and looking up at them curiously. "What're you doing?" He spotted Sawyer hanging lifelessly between them, and his eyes grew wide in understanding. "Aw, man… déjà vu. You're not gonna… what's he keeping from you this time?"

"It's not like that." Sayid assured the bigger man, shifting Sawyer's arm into a more comfortable position. "There's a chance he may have caught the disease. We need to keep him tied up until we know for sure… one way or the other."

"Oh." Hurley said, as if the idea of Sawyer catching the infamous disease was perfectly ok. He nodded and turned back to the fire, leaving Kate and Sayid to carry on past.

As soon as the piece of heavy plane debris came into sight, Kate felt the familiar tingle run down her spine. Jack was here. So was it, but he wasn't her main concern. Apart from her being… emotionally attached to the doctor, he was also further along in the sickness. Whatever new and exciting symptoms this disease had in store, he would be the first to experience them.

They got closer, and the two men came into view. Jack and Boone were both tied to the piece of metal, little more than two meters apart. They were rocking back and forth in a slow, almost hypnotic motion. To think that Sawyer may soon join them made Kate's eyes sting with threatening tears. She quickly wiped them away before Sayid noticed.

"Let's put him over here." The Iraqi suggested, pointing to a part of the metal a few meters from Boone. "If this disease is contagious in other ways than just blood, he should be too close."

"Good thinking." Kate nodded, and began to steer Sawyer in the direction Sayid had pointed. They sat him down, and bound one hand tightly to the metal.

Sayid stood up and brushed his hands off, letting out a satisfied sigh, but Kate stayed kneeling. She stared into Sawyer's face, brushing a few strands of dirty-blonde hair out of the way. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep - well, knocked out - almost innocent. Suddenly, kneeling in front of a tied-up Sawyer seemed way too familiar, and she stood up quickly, shoving her hands deep down into her pockets.

"We should go." She suggested to Sayid. "It won't be safe around these parts once Hurricane Sawyer hits."

A small smile played on Sayid's lips.

"I think that is a wise decision." He agreed, turning away from the three men. "One of us can check back on him in a couple of hours."

Kate swallowed hard. What if they came back and he was already sick? But, somehow, her feet allowed her to turn and follow Sayid back to the main part of the beach without casting a glance behind her, for what she knew could very well be the last time.

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It was dark, but not that late, when Sawyer finally stirred. The first thing he noticed was that he was outside, not in his tent like he had expected to be. As his conscious mind adjusted to being put to use, he also realized that there was a thick rope tied around the wrist of his right hand, the other end bound tightly to the same piece of metal which Jack an Boone were tied to.

The cogs in his brain finally clicked, and he jerked fully awake. He tugged at the rope which bound him to the wreckage, but it was tied too tight, and in such a way that his other hand couldn't reach it. He let out a roar of fury and kicked the sand. Not the most terrifying of actions, but there wasn't much else he could do in his current position.

"I see you're awake." The Iraqi man's voice echoed from somewhere off to his left, where he had been sitting on a rock. Sawyer started; he hadn't noticed him there in the dark.

"Awake?" Sawyer growled bitingly. "Don't you mean 'regained consciousness' after you knocked me out, you bastard? What the hell did I do to you? You gonna rip my fingernails off again, or go for the whole hand this time? Heck, maybe the whole arm, got nothing to lose. 'Cept for a vital limb, but what the hell…"

"Sawyer." Sayid cut him off. "Stop."

And surprisingly, Sawyer stopped.

"It's not like that." The Iraqi explained. "I tied you up through no fault of your own."

"Well, that's ok then." Sawyer interrupted sarcastically. "Just as long as it wasn't my fault."

"There's a chance you could have the disease." He continued, paying no attention to the interruption. "I need to keep you restrained until we know for sure."

"How the hell can you not 'know for sure'?" Sawyer asked bitterly. "Do I look like them? No. I can move and talk and I haven't ripped anyone apart yet, so that's a pretty clean medical record if you ask -"

"It's not the fact that we've seen the symptoms in you." It was Sayid's turn to butt in. "We may have worked out how the disease is spread."

"Oh yeah, Ali?" Sawyer taunted. "And how's that?"

"Basically, through direct blood contact with someone who is infected." Sayid almost smiled when he saw Sawyer's face fall in realization, but caught himself. What goes around comes around. He reminded himself. You shouldn't wish this sickness on anybody. "Were you not recently attacked by Jack?"

Sawyer was quiet for a moment, thinking. His first thought was that he was done for. It was all over. If this disease claimed him, it would not give him back, he was damn sure of that. Just like he was damn sure it wouldn't give back Jack or Boone. But these thoughts were soon joined by a second thought. Doubt.

He raised his eyes to meet Sayid's, his brows knotted together in a mixed expression of fury and fear.

"How do you know?" He growled. "You ain't no doctor, no one here is, 'part from Malone, but you seem to have taken care of him. Nice." He paused, hoping the Iraqi was feeling guilty, even though he himself wasn't about to hop on board the 'I love Richard' bandwagon, neither was he a candidate for Sayid's fan club. "How do I know you ain't screwing with me?"

Sayid looked at Sawyer for a few seconds with sad eyes. Perhaps it was in the southern man's nature to suspect such things of people. If that was so, he had to admit; he pitied the man.

"Because I don't do things like that." Sayid replied calmly. "I am not saying that you have this disease, or even that you necessarily will get it. All I am saying is that it would be wise to take precautions. And," He eyed the rope that tied Sawyer to the metal. "Considering the symptoms of this disease, that means keeping you tied up."

For the first time in his life, Sawyer didn't fight back. He didn't argue, and he didn't try to persuade Sayid to untie him. He just hung his head and accepted it, the anger draining out of him as if an imaginary plug had been pulled.

Jack had attacked him when he was 'sick'. He had ripped into his shoulder with his teeth and strangled him. Sawyer had nearly died. He wasn't normally a touchy-feely guy, but he couldn't take it if he did that to someone else. Especially not…

No. He couldn't even think it. But there was one thing he did know; there was no way he would be responsible for any of her pain - or worse. And if sacrifices had to be made to ensure that, then sacrifices he would make.

Because that was what it was all about. Whatever this was, what he was feeling all of a sudden.

It was about making sacrifices.