A/N: Hey, look! An update :) Figured since today's the first of 6 long, Lost-less Wednesdays, this might help ease the withdrawal. Thanks for reading, guys! This chapter's a bit shorter then the first, but things will pick up soon!

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It was an unnervingly chilly morning. The sun had barely begun its ascent over the horizon, casting a soft purple pink light over the clouded sky. It was now early December and Sawyer offhandedly wondered if the temperature on the island would continue to steadily dip. Even if he knew anything about conditions in tropical regions, he figured this place wouldn't abide by the rules.

It was taking him longer then expected to get through to the beach, though that was probably his own fault. Someone had had the decency to beat down a visible path leading the way from the hatch entrance straight to the main camp, but Sawyer had to take it slow. He wasn't always man of bright ideas, though he had a feeling this one especially would come back and bite him in the ass. He'd yet to regain his full strength and there was a good chance the journey that awaited him would end badly, but it was a risk he willingly took. Even if this time around he had a reason to stay, his ego wouldn't allow him to openly admit it. The part of him that screamed for vengeance couldn't be settled.

The crashing of waves echoed through from a clearing in the brush up ahead. Stepping out of the trees, Sawyer's eyes scanned the desolated shore. He subconsciously noted that this was his first time back on the beach since they'd left on the raft nearly two weeks ago.

In the near distance, he saw what was left of his old shelter. The tarp had been removed, having probably been put to better use now, and all that remained was the plane fragments he'd set up as walls. The seat section that had served as his bed was also gone, and whatever piled luggage was leftover from his collecting sprees had long been cleared out. Kate had brought the few clothes he had left behind to the hatch before he'd gained consciousness and she'd later informed him that his hoard had become public property once he'd left. This fact hadn't angered him as much as it once would have, but Sawyer had still played off the information with a snide remark and he'd made an act of sulking for a while, though that had quickly passed.

Stopping a moment to even out his breathing, Sawyer leaned against a tree and sighed. So much had changed in so little time. If those bastards hadn't taken Walt and shot him, they very well could have been off the island now. Sawyer suddenly found himself questioning what life he had awaiting him back "in the real world." Would he have been regarded as a hero or would his past crimes have instantly caught up to him and landed him a one-way ticket to jail? And what about Kate? Had getting on the raft really been her one final chance of escape? Would he have been indirectly responsible for ruining her life?

Maybe everyone had a dark past waiting to catch up to them once they left the island. Maybe things were better this way.

"Try tellin' that to Mike," Sawyer muttered to himself. His mind flashed to Shannon and Boone, and all the others who'd suffered similar fates since crashing here. Were they better off as well?

As his thoughts continuing to wander, a heavy shifting broke the otherwise silent environment. It took Sawyer a moment to pinpoint the sound, which was being made by none other than Vincent, who sat watching the Southerner with one of those honest expressions of curiosity. Sawyer regarded the Labrador for a moment before speaking again, this time to the dog.

"Beginnin' to think you're quite a menace, Yeller." Vincent's ears perked at the sound of his voice, and Sawyer fought the silly notion that the mutt actually understood him. "Or at best, a load of bad luck. With your last few owners all up'n disappearin' under your nose."

The dog's tail thumped slowly against the ground, unsettling the sandy grass mixture that he sat upon. Sawyer noted he was tied to a large piece of wreckage, with bowl made from half a coconut stationed to the side and filled with water. He wondered who was looking after him now that Michael had taken off as well, but he didn't allow himself to linger on the thought long. Why did he suddenly care?

"Well," he pulled himself away from the tree and took a step forward, "off I go. Got some scores to settle." Pausing in front of Vincent briefly, he reached over and gave the dog a pat on the head. "Who knows? Might run into your old man and bring'm back to ya. Hell, maybe he even found his kid and they'll both walk out the magic forest right as rain any moment now." Vincent arched his head to lick Sawyer's hand and the man didn't bother concealing a grin. "Yeah, that'd be a long shot." He let a moment of silence pass before running his hand down against his shirt to clear it of dog drool. He spared Vincent another bemused look before commencing his trip.

"Dude." He'd hardly gotten three steps before the familiar voice stopped him. Not bothering to hide the groan that made its way up from the pit of his stomach, Sawyer looked over at Hurley as he made his way towards him. "Looks like Elvis has left the hatch."

Sawyer smiled forcefully. "Funny." He attempted to dodge past him but Hurley stopped directly in his path, blocking his direct escape. There was another man traveling behind him and Sawyer noted that he seemed vaguely familiar. He was tall and lanky with floppy red hair, a bad case of acne and scared green eyes. Sawyer was sure he'd threatened the guy's life at least once.

"Oh, that's Billy." Hurley stated offhandedly, as if Sawyer had asked.

"Bobby," the redhead corrected, his voice alarmingly shaky. He sounded (and, oddly enough, looked) like a young boy just starting his bumpy ride through puberty, though he was most likely in his mid-20s. Sawyer held back an eye roll.

"Sorry man." Hurley turned back to Sawyer. "It's his first time running a button shift. I get to show him the ropes."

"Lucky you." Sawyer readjusted the backpack he was carrying, cringing slightly as a tingle of burning pain raced through his arm. He turned his attention back to Hurley, figuring he'd make the best of the situation at hand. "You see which way the doc and his team went?"

The larger man blinked at him, having enough brains to figure something fishy was going on. "Uh, yeah. Why?"

Sawyer sighed. He was hoping this wouldn't get too difficult. "They forgot some supplies at the hatch. Figured I'd catch up to them before they all walked off to their impending deaths." He'd fallen into the lie easily, though he could have used a more convincing excuse. Since when was he Mr. Handyman?

"That doesn't sound like something you'd do." Hurley commented with a disbelieving laugh. Sawyer felt his patience ticking away. He didn't really have to put up with this. It couldn't be that hard tracking a whole group of people through the jungle.

"Look, forget it." He started walking again. "Thanks for the chitchat, Porky."

"Hey," Hurley called and Sawyer stopped despite himself. He wondered briefly if Hurley was going to give him a lecture on manners. Turning slightly to regard the other man over his shoulder, he waited with growing dread.

"They went through there." Hurley pointed towards a patch of trees about 20 feet away. Sawyer fought back a cocky smile at the pleasant surprise and continued walking without another word. He was staging a clean escape until Hurley's voice called back to him once more. "Does Kate know about this?"

Sawyer tried not to let his stride betray him, but the brief hesitation in his step was enough of a give away. He carried on without answering, hoping Hurley would just figure he hadn't heard the question. A moment later, he had entered the shady woods and was out of sight.

"I think... I'm going to regret that." Hurley commented to himself, glancing back to Bobby, who had silently watched the whole exchange. Hurley sighed and waved a hand, bidding his nervous comrade to follow as he turned towards the path that'd lead them to the hatch.

---

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Kate's eyes shot open as the familiar hollow noise sounded through the door, filling the dimly lit room with a dull, repetitive echo. A moment later, it was replaced by the faint shuffled clicking of the counter resetting back to its original time, only to start winding down again.

Kate blinked and glanced around the storage, taking a moment to let her mind catch up on what was happening. As everything came back, she pushed herself off the floor and muttered a curse. How the hell could she have fallen asleep?

"Hey, Hurley. You there?" She stepped towards the door and pounded her fist against it a few times before stopping to listen. Sure enough, a pair of muffled footsteps started on the other side of the wall.

"Kate?" He asked with reserved uncertainty, as if afraid his mind was playing tricks on him.

"Yeah, it's me. Let me out." Kate ordered, her voice notably bordering control. She held her breath until the lock clicked and the door swung open.

"What're you doing in there?" Hurley asked, peering behind her to see if she was alone. Kate mumbled a word of thanks- ignoring his question- and sped past him, feebly scanning the hatch for any sign of Sawyer. Her eyes strayed briefly on the young man who was staring at her from the doorway leading to the computer area, but she didn't spare him a second's thought as she turned back to Hurley.

"You seen Sawyer?" She demanded, already calculating how much time had passed since he'd left her in the storage room and how far he could have possibly gotten in his condition.

"Uh, yeah. He was at the beach about half an hour ago." Hurley knew this couldn't end well, so he said no more.

Kate caught on to his ignorant tactic. She shot him an exasperated look and urged his story on, her foot tapping rhythmically against the concrete ground. "Did he say anything?"

"Well, he asked about Jack and the search party. Where they were going and stuff." Again, Hurley avoided the inevitable point. He shifted slightly and threw a look at Bobby (or was it Billy?), who was still standing a few feet off, watching the drama unfold with an interested but fearful expression; like a random pedestrian observing a morbid car accident.

"Let me guess. You told him?" Kate brought her hands to her hips and sighed, snapping Hurley's attention back to her. This had made things a notch harder. If Sawyer knew exactly where he was going, he was probably already quite ahead. On the other hand, he would hopefully be easier to hunt down. And Kate would make sure to catch up to him quickly; payback was indeed a bitch.

"I... might have let it slip." Hurley finally spoke, letting the words come out slowly as he inadvertently took a step back.

Kate had to fight back a smile despite the situation. The fact that Hurley had always been outwardly fearful of her fugitive status was oddly amusing.

"Bad move." She commented drily, mulling her next course of action over. She had no choice but to go after Sawyer. He was going to get himself killed out there alone.

Not sparing Hurley another word, she strode past him, towards the bedroom, and located her backpack by the dresser. As she hastily tossed a change of clothes in it, her eyes scanned the room and again settled on the counter that should've held Sawyer's pills. Thankfully, it seemed he'd remembered to take them.

Turning her attention to Jack's medical bag- which had been stationed on a chair in the room since Sawyer was brought back to camp- Kate fished out a roll of gauze and a half-empty bottle of peroxide, just in case. Hopefully no one back here would need them.

Dumping the supplies in her bag and swinging it over her shoulder, she once again made her way through the hallway. Hurley stood right where she'd left him, watching her speed around in state of growing bewilderment. Kate walked right past the storage, going against her better judgment and not stopping to pack some food. She could always gather some fruit in the jungle, but if she wasted any more time now, the results could be fatal.

Without saying anything else, Kate headed towards the ammunition compartment. One of her hands wrapped around a shotgun while the other pocketed a box of ammo, both actions going about without any serious thought behind them. Hurley and Bobby exchanged equally frightened looks as Kate disappeared around the corner a moment later, only daring to move once the hatch door squeaked shut.

"Sorry you had to see that, dude." Hurley stated a full minute later, attempting to brighten the mood. "She's just having a bad day."

"What's she like on her good days?" The red-haired man managed after a moment, his droopy hair sweeping across his face as he shifted around.

Hurley blinked as he struggled for a truthful answer. "Pretty much the same, actually." He stated cheerfully.

Bobby's green eyes widened a notch and Hurley let out a nervous laugh.

Eventually, an awkward silence settled in as they stared down the hallway Kate had disappeared.