Thanks for your continuing support, reviews and for taking the time to read this stuff. Y'all are stars!
So, I'll let you get on and read this. Even if it is uneventful. Has some Sawyer thinkin' though...as a kind of consolation prize!
Chapter 10.
"It's okay, Honey. It'll be alright. You're safe now. No one's coming for you."
Kate's voice, smooth, whispered and calming, soothed well into the remaining night and into the early hours of the morning, offering hushed murmurs of reassurance and comfort to the exhausted woman, cowering nervously and still sobbing, even though her voice had long since lost it's volume.
They had managed, just barely, between the six of them to usher Cindy back up to their camp, though it had taken them all of their combined effort and persuasive techniques to convince her that they were not the ones who she was terrified of. That they were, in fact, all survivors from the same plane crash of the 815, an admission in itself that had done more damage than good and had set her off into another panic. Longer minutes it had taken them to ease her shaking, bedraggled body, dressed in a blue button up uniform shirt, too thin to offer her any protection from the volatile, changeable island weather, and covered almost entirely in mud, up the steep slope to the almost-summit.
Every shadow at the base of a tree suddenly caused her to start in fear. Every rustling movement of undergrowth provoked terror so strong in her slight frame that is sent her crashing down into a crouch, arms wrapped protectively over her head, or darting sideways, trying to escape into the trees like a spooked horse.
Eventually, though, bone weary from the void left by the spent adrenalin gone from their systems, they returned to their camp to find it, quite remarkably, untouched. Fire still burning cheerfully. Belongings left exactly where they had dropped them the minute that they had heard Cindy's anguished cry. And yet, their wariness was not eased in the slightest.
"She's sleeping." Kate announced in a fatigued whisper, stepping away from the now silent form of the plane stewardess, to where her male companions had huddled together, apart from where she had been trying to calm Cindy, their presences only serving to inflame the situation. Why they did not know.
Sawyer sent his eyes around the small, morose group, watching the same expressions of relief, exhaustion and concern pass over each face, through each pair of down turned eyes, one after the other. The same expression that he knew was plainly read upon his own features.
"That's good." Locke nodded grimly, thin lips compressed into an even narrower line than usual. His eyes, Sawyer noted, were not ground-ward staring as everyone else's seemed to be. Instead they glared devoutly into the night. Seeking something out, for any sign of Them.
Right then, Sawyer wished desperately that he had never stopped Ana from coming along. For selfish reasons more than anything. She knew about the Others. She knew their tactics and her aim was as deadly as her killer right-hook. He knew that from personal experience. Plus, it wouldn't have hurt to have the reassurance that there was someone there willing to watch his ass for him…Properly. Not that the others of the entourage would leave him hanging if things did get a little hairy, but Mike was out to find his boy. The half-pint would come first in his mind and that was the way that it should be, between father and son, even if Sawyer was a little bitter about his own screwed up relationship with his father. Locke was there for the island. His fanaticism, his desire to do the island's bidding, while it creeped Sawyer out, was what drove the older man and kept him at his best and yet, he was left with no doubt that 'John Locke-Others Hunter' would leave him behind in a heartbeat if the "island desired another sacrifice". Sayid was there for Sticks. Plain and simple, no two ways about it. To keep her safe from the threat of the Others and perhaps the death that she had cheated when she had recovered from the wound given to her by Ana-Lucia's "killer aim". Kate and Eko, however, unlike the others, were there for themselves. Whether for redemption or religion or for the hell of it, along for the ride. Perhaps all of them combined together. They were on their own missions, with their own agendas and if Sawyer wasn't included in them, if he messed up their carefully laid plans, again he'd find himself in their slipstream.
One way or another they'd all leave him if the need arose…accept for Ana if she had come. But Sawyer mentally shook his head. He was being self-centred again. He was being the person that he had never wanted to turn into and yet, ironically had. He was being like her father and the notion of that was so repugnant that he discarded any more thoughts and wishes for Ana's company, throwing them to the back of his mind. He was on this damn crazy mission for her. Yes, he owed Mike. Yes, he and Mike had developed a friendship, a camaraderie that had taken him by surprise, as had his desire to help his compatriot in his quest. Never before had he wanted to do anything if it didn't benefit himself in some way. But mostly, he was doing it for her. He knew the fear that she had gone through living those forty eight days on the other side of the island. Well, perhaps not knew it. Recognised it more like. He could see it glitter in the depths of her dark eyes whenever the Others were mentioned or their story retold to the survivors that they now lived with. He knew it kept her awake at night sometimes, though he never let her know that he was witness to her nightmares. To her waking with a jerk and a deep intake of panicked breath, hand pressed to her heart as if it thundered inside her until she scrambled for the shelter entrance and fresh air. She never knew that he waited, lying awake staring at the dark patterns bathing the blue plastic tarp ceiling for the long minutes, often hours, that it took for her to return, calm and collected once more, often wet and freezing cold from swimming in the raging sea. He sometimes tried testing the waters with her when the morning came with a deceptively cheerful 'Sleep alright last night, Chica?' giving her the opportunity to talk to him about it if she ever felt the need to lighten her burden. She always answered with a shrug of tanned shoulders as they ate their breakfast together, however, and changed the subject.
"Poor Sheila," Sawyer commented aloud suddenly, steering his thoughts away from Ana-Lucia and to the matter at hand. "Damn Other bastards!" and his thoughts drifted dangerously close to Ana once more. He almost allowed himself to consider that it could have been her that had been taken by the Others upon that treacherous hike that they had embarked on what seemed an age ago. "You think maybe she can point us in the right direction? Where she came from? Where they took her?"
Locke shook his head at Sawyer's many questions but it was Sayid, ever the voice of reason, who spoke up instead.
"She is far too traumatized to be of much use in that matter." he replied, tone almost musing, letting Sawyer know that behind those dark eyes, a soldier's brain was puzzling out their next move. For once that notion was somewhat of a comfort to him.
"She can't come with us, Man." Michael injected from where he sat, knees drawn up as a support for his elbows, hands linked together in between. "She's been through God knows what!"
"Someone needs to take her back down to the caves. Get Jack to examine her. Try to figure out what They did to her…" Locke announced with a firm nod and, out of the corner of his eye, Sawyer saw, at the older man's words, Eko's fists clench, pulling dark skin taut over powerful, granite-hard knuckles. Absently Sawyer hoped that he'd never been on the receiving end of one of those things flying at him, especially if the Nigerian man had half the strength, speed and good aim as Ana did…Damn, there he went thinking of her again! He was his own worst enemy. Never mind Sayid being a torturer, he could do it perfectly well on his own and his form was far worse than having bamboo hammered up beneath his fingernails.
"We need to have at least one person capable of tracking with us," Sayid continued, voice even. Methodical in his thinking. "One is good. Two preferable if we want to be doubly certain of where exactly we are heading, but perhaps one of you should go back. To make sure that Cindy reaches safety." he indicated his maps suddenly, jabbing a finger at them as he held them up with his other hand. "I can read the maps but, John, Kate, tracking is your area of expertise." he paused again, to consider them both in turn. "You need to decide between yourselves who is-"
"We should let the island decide." Locke interrupted drawing a mildly irritated stare from the Iraqi sat cross-legged opposite him. "Make it fair." then came his eerie smile. The one that Sawyer knew only too well. One that meant that John Locke knew something that they did not. "It's an easy enough hike back down through to the caves. Shouldn't take longer than half a day as it's mostly downhill." his blue eyes flashed, squinting in mirth, skin creased and weather worn at the corners. He considered them each one after the other, in turn. "We should dr-"
"Draw straws, John?" Kate interrupted with an irate shake of her head. "Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, you said you wanted to make this fair." a dark look flashed through her eyes, focused only upon the bald man. "Remember what happened last time we left things up to fate, John?" she arched her eyebrows as he blinked back at her in what looked like mild surprise. Sawyer, despite their dire situation, couldn't help but feel slightly curious and more than a little amused at the exchange. "You helped Jack cheat!"
Sayid smirked behind a strategically raised hand. Michael raised his eyebrows to Sawyer and Eko studied the muddy patterns upon the ground at his feet. Sawyer just plain out chuckled, earning him a fleeting black look from the female part of their troupe before she returned her glare to it's primary target.
"Jack isn't here." Locke countered, laughter almost, though not quite, lighting his voice. "I don't have a reason to cheat anymore."
Her mouth hung open as a response failed to come to her and she settled for narrowing her eyes suspiciously and folding her arms across her chest.
"Drawing straws is fine by everyone else? Yes?" Locke continued as if Kate hadn't interrupted at all, smiling triumphantly when they all nodded their assent. "The luck of the draw it is then."
-oOo-
She decided on the spot that she had to turn around and accompany
Shannon back to the safety of the caves. Partly to make sure that she
actually went back, stubborn as the blonde woman was, instead of
continuing her desperate search for the absent Walt further into the
jungle, the night and dangers unknown, and partly because she felt that
she owed the young woman as much for shooting her, albeit accidentally.
She felt obligated to keep her safe.
If she left her now, to find her own way back and her asthma flared up again, Sayid nor any of the other survivors would forgive her, not that many of them had anyway besides Claire, Jack and of course Sawyer.
Sawyer. That single name settled the inner debate raging inside her. The thought of what she had experienced alone in that very spot where she stood, hazily aware of Shannon speaking again about Walt's appearance to her, made her decide that Libby could hold out at the hatch for another hundred and eight minutes until she had returned Shannon to safety and into the watchful custody of Jack.
Jack. Another name that enforced her already made decision. Perhaps she could ask him, in a round about way about what she had seen. Perhaps he could tell her if she was going clinically insane…
"Come on. We're leaving." Ana announced, cutting off Shannon's puzzled exclamations about the warnings that they had received and beginning a swift march back in the general direction of the caves.
And as soon as she had started walking, had taken her first step, she couldn't stop. Perhaps it was the memory of her fear, of the utter audacity of what she had just been witness to. More likely it was the desire, running deep and hot within her, to put a greater distance between herself and the place where it had occurred. Even though the ends of the earth would not even be far enough.
"Wait up!" Shannon called, jogging to catch up and Ana, out of her duty to her young companion, forced herself to slow. Her gait to slip in speed a fraction as they fell into step beside each other and continued their journey in a companionable silence. Each knowing what consumed the other's thoughts.
-oOo-