A/N: Woot. This nice, long chapter's out earlier then usual. We can thank the lovely Lost Skate Haircut of D00M, 'cause that was just plain cute ;) And, as a note, as of next week's episode (which looks wicked, even though it's a Jack eppy :D), the canon Lost timeline will be caught up with the beginning of this story. So... you'll have to remember to keep the two separate in your minds ;) That being said... Enjoy! And have a good weekend.

---

"Sawyer!" Kate's voice pounded against the metal of the door almost as hard as her hands, but the sounds of struggle, charred by occasional snarls and growls, bounded back just as forcefully from the other side. She let forth her full vocabulary of curses, knowing it wouldn't do her any good but feeling better for it anyway.

And then she heard the gun fire. Long, sharp and chilling. For a moment, she wasn't sure if it was one single shot or eight. As its echo died, a deafening stretch of silence took over. Kate stood there, with her hand wrapped around the doorknob and her body leaned against the tough steel, waiting for something (anything) to happen.

She started counting to five, but she'd barely gotten to two before she was putting all her weight against the door again. She almost lost her footing as it jarred open an inch. Regaining her hold, Kate encouraged herself to push harder. She could feel something solid and heavy revolting against the carpeted floor within the other room. Steadily and in an unnervingly slow manner, she made enough of a gap to squeeze through.

She felt her insides curl at the heavy smell that surrounded her in the darkness. Noting that she'd left the flashlight where it had fallen earlier, her hand absently went to the wall beside the door frame and she was surprised when it landed on a light switch. She flicked it on and a dim light spread from a centered fixture on the ceiling, casting a dirty yellow glow on everything within the room.

Kate eyes quickly went to her feet and she made her way over the fallen bookshelf that had been propped against the door. Ahead of her, under the scattered papers and books, the floor held an array of tracks (paws?) and smears of blood. Her eyes stayed on them for a moment then she willed herself to scan the rest of the room.

"Sawyer?" Her voice sounded small when she called out and the silence swallowed it greedily. She was almost as afraid of getting an answer as she was of not getting one.

Then she heard it. Faint and ragged. Breathing.

She took another step forward and followed the blooded path on the floor with her eyes. A table stood to the side, pushed against the corner with most of its bearings spilled on the ground.

A boot peeked out from the shadows cast by the table, and Kate stared at it for a long stretch of time, even after she'd categorized it as Sawyer's.

When she finally found the courage to move, everything seemed to speed up.

One second, she was staring at Sawyer, leaned against a gray wall with his head drooped lazily against his shoulder. A large patch of black fur was sprawled across his upper half, concealing his chest and arms in a manner that seemed illogically funny. And there was blood. (So much blood.)

The next second, she was kneeling by Sawyer's side, having already pushed the heavy, warm weight off him. Her hands were moving over his face, shaking his head gently, brushing his hair back from his eyes. She was speaking- she knew that much- but exactly what she was saying was beyond her at the moment.

The following second, her eyes had landed on the gun he was clinging to, even in this subconscious state. She unwrapped it from his fingers and tossed it to the side as if it burned her flesh. Then her hands were running over his chest, peeling apart his already-ripped shirt, trying to distinguish Sawyer's blood from that of whatever lay dead beside him. Her attention turned from the scratches, cuts and bruises of his torso to the larger problem of his shoulder, where the bullet wound had reopened and now resembled an angry volcano; a crater of dark red spewing out of purple-black flesh. Before she even had the sense to think about it, Kate had removed her tank top- still damp from the pool- and she was pressing it against Sawyer's shoulder, willing his life to stop flowing out.

Then, as a sharp hiss of pain broke the calm, time slowed down again.

"God damn," Sawyer brought his good hand up to the back of his head and winced as it connected with a warm, sticky patch of hair. He opened his eyes slowly, as if unsure he really wanted to, and stared ahead, obviously disoriented. As his eyes wandered to Kate, the events that had just taken place came back to him. He smiled despite everything.

"Hey."

Kate laughed. Or maybe it was a sob disguised as a laugh. "Hey yourself."

Sawyer slowly closed his eyes again and the panic that had just cleared from Kate's body returned full force. "Hey, Sawyer. Stay with me, okay?" She set the palm of her free hand against his cheek and his head leaned heavily onto it.

"Mm," Sawyer swallowed, then set his head up and opened his eyes once more. Kate retracted her hand as he pushed himself up a bit straighter and exhaled loudly. Seemingly winning the battle with staying awake, he turned to her again, his eyes lingering for a moment, taking in the fact that she was there beside him in her bra. Uncharacteristically, he let a snide remark slide. "How long was I out?"

The fact that she had no idea shocked her. "Just a few minutes." It couldn't have been longer than that, right? "You jammed the door right after you threw me to the ground," she smiled and he replied with a chuckle.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that." He brought his hand up to his wounded shoulder and rested it over her own, letting out a low growl of pain as he pressed down on it. "Was kinda busy with the residential Baskerville hound."

(Hound?) Kate peeled her gaze off Sawyer and set it on the lifeless pile to his left.

Her eyes scanned the slick black fur covering its lean but powerful frame and rested on the neck portion, where a massive gaping hole was blown clear through. She looked up at the ceiling briefly, and- as expected- there was a small chip in the rock where the bullet had hit. Glancing back at the animal, her eyes continued to wander. They rested on its face, past the pointed ears, haunting golden eyes, and to the long, lean muzzle. Kate cocked her head in thought.

"Sawyer." She felt him shift beside her.

"Yeah?"

"That's not a dog." Their eyes met. "It's a wolf."

---

They both stared at the wolf corpse for a while, digesting the information. (Polar bears, horses... Why did this even seem surprising?) Finally, Kate got to her feet and allowed herself another look around the room. From here, she noted that there were two more doors at the far end, one on of the parallel sides, almost obscured by the packed bookshelves that ended right before the door frames began. She turned back to Sawyer, a plan already formed in her mind.

"Can you walk?"

He shifted his feet and bit back a groan. "Think so. White Fang there chewed on my ankle some but I had my lucky boots on." He smiled proudly and Kate looked over at his shoes, noting that the left one was indeed torn up. A small patch of blood had collected around the leather, but if Sawyer could move it fine, there was likely no serious injury.

"Looks like they're not so lucky anymore," she commented with no real emotion, then peered down at the gun by her feet. She swooped down and lifted it off the ground before waving it in Sawyer's direction. "I thought you would've learned your lesson about carrying guns around by now," Kate challenged halfheartedly, sparing a brief look at his shoulder.

"Hey," Sawyer started to interject, but Kate held up a hand and smiled playfully.

"I know, I know. You just shot a wolf."

He snorted in disapproval. "Sounds so bad-ass when you say it."

She let her smile linger but her eyes rested on the animal again. "Poor thing."

Sawyer groaned as he attempted to push himself up off the floor. "It was him or me, Freckles."

"Her, actually," Kate corrected, as if bounded by some unspoken duty to protect the wolf's dignity even in death. Scooting down, she dropped the gun in Sawyer's backpack before coming around to his side and setting herself under his good arm. Sawyer regarded her carefully as she helped him up.

"Didn't have any other choice but to shoot." He cursed at this newfound need to justify himself in front of Kate. He couldn't handle knowing he was causing the sadness that plagued her eyes just now.

"I know," her hand wormed its way around his waist and she started leading him towards the other side of the room. "Just because it's the only choice doesn't mean it can't be the wrong choice."

Not having anything reassuring, let alone sarcastic, to throw back at her, Sawyer sighed. "Yeah, well..." He swallowed roughly as he set his weight on his left leg. "Where we off to, then?"

Kate nodded at the far end of the room. "I'm hoping one of those is a bathroom. We need to get you cleaned up."

"Not like that'll make much difference," Sawyer stated smartly. "Knowin' my luck, the damned wolf probably had rabies." Kate felt something cold run through her at these words, but she laughed it away.

"Doubtful," she replied, though it really wasn't that much of a stretch. Why had the wolf attacked? Weren't they usually more afraid of humans? (Then again, this one wasn't exactly roaming the wild. It was locked up in a small, dark room for who knows how long.) "Someone's obviously been taking care of her," Kate continued, trying to rationalize with herself more than reassure Sawyer.

"Ah, so she was just defendin' her home sweet home." Kate rolled her eyes at the sarcasm behind that statement, but said nothing in reply. It seemed plausible enough. Someone was living here (how anyone could live in these conditions was beyond her, but...) and the wolf, odd choice for a pet as it might be, had probably been their only company.

"I wonder what happened to them." Kate mulled aloud as they maneuvered around a sofa and reached the door closest to their side of the room.

"Who?" Sawyer started to reach for the doorknob, but the sharp jolt that ran through his shoulder stopped him. "Damn it."

Kate stepped forward. "Whoever lived here." She turned the knob and pushed the door open. Darkness met them.

"Lived?" Sawyer turned slightly so they could both get through the door. "What makes you so sure somethin' happened to'm?"

Relieved when her hand drifted over a light switch, Kate shrugged. "Seeing as nothing human attacked you as well, I'm just taking a wild guess." A strong, white light flooded the room and Kate felt another wave of relief at both the fact that they had found the bathroom (a small, square room with a toilet, a shower and a simple wooden table smack in a corner) and that there were no dead bodies inhabiting it.

They made their way over to oddly placed (but convenient for their situation) table and Sawyer steadied himself against it as Kate slipped out from under his arm. Though they would never admit it, they both instantly missed the warmth of each other's bodies.

"Well, if anythin' happened to anyone, it was recently." Kate headed over to the shower to make sure the water was running. She glanced back at Sawyer, unsure of what exactly he meant.

"And how do you figure that?"

He lifted an eyebrow in amusement. "The handy-dandy tally of our days on Gilligan's island was a big hint, for one."

Kate didn't reply right away. She twirled the knobs on the shower and stood back as a burst of air traveled through the pipes within the walls. (She found herself wondering how much time it must have taken to build these stations out here. How could such a project have gone down so secretively?) "Maybe it's just a coincidence of some sort," she finally offered, though it sounded as silly to her as it did to Sawyer, judging by his proceeding chuckle.

"Lots of coincidences today, don't ya think?"

A strong spray of water shot out from the showerhead suddenly and Kate stepped back to keep it from soaking her (granted that her jeans were still damp.) She suddenly released she was still in her bra and it brought a faint flush to her cheeks now that the situation wasn't as dire as it had been earlier. Before she could turn and hide it from Sawyer...

"Well, what's this? Turnin' all modest on me now, Freckles?" She shot him a glare as she walked back over to him. Taking hold of his good arm's sleeve, she carefully worked the ruined shirt off him. She then set her attention to his shoulder. He was still holding her crumbled clothing over it, but from the looks of things, the bleeding had slowed. Her eyes lurked down his chest, to the collaboration of scrapes the wolf had dug into his stomach. She reached out a hand and gently brushed her fingers over the gashes. Sawyer watched her intensely, holding his breath as her touch sent shivers of a bittersweet pain through his body.

She looked up, meeting his gaze, and they both leaned in simultaneously.

Two inches away from each other's lips, Kate set a hand on his chest. "Get undressed," she purred, and Sawyer almost toppled over the edge of the table. Kate bit back a laugh before clarifying. "I've got some peroxide and fresh bandages in my bag. Once you clean up, call me so I can patch you up." Sawyer nodded stupidly as she hovered before him a moment longer, then turned around and walked out, softly closing the door behind her.

"Son of a bitch."

---

A few minutes later, Kate had set all their stuff on the coffee table which sat in the center of the room. She looked over at the wolf, now covered by a white sheet she'd found folded on a shelf, and again caught herself feeling a weird mixture of guilt and curiosity. (Where did you come from?)

Her eyes lurked to the door opposing the bathroom, and she started towards it without much thought. About a step before she reached it, Kate heard the shower water slowing down to a stop. Her eyes lingered on the door a second longer, then she heard Sawyer call from behind her.

"Uh, Kate." Her name always sounded so off coming from Sawyer. Turning around, she made the short trip to the bathroom door and opened it. "Can ya get me a..."

Sawyer physically jumped back in shock at her entrance, bringing the pile that consisted of his jeans and mauled shirt up to cover his lower half. Kate lifted an eyebrow as she strode into the steamy (from the hot water, of course) room.

"Please," she laughed. "Like you give a crap about me seeing you naked." She glanced around the room and noted that there were no towels around.

His eyes narrowed in defense. "Maybe now I do!" She turned her attention back to Sawyer.

"Why?" Kate couldn't help but roll her eyes for mock effect. "It's nothing I haven't already seen, you know." She topped it off with a knowing grin. "Twice," and then she threw his earlier statement right back at him.

That caused Sawyer to blink in confusion. (Twice?) "Hey," he began to argue, but slowly his rationality filled in the blank. (At least he could take some comfort in the fact that it wasn't Jack who'd taken him out of his clothes and put'm in bed the day Eko had returned him to camp.) He allowed himself a coy smile. "Bet I forced you into both those situations as well, huh?" He turned the conversation back on her challengingly.

"Nope," her eyes were dangerously sexy as she leaned towards him again and whispered. "I guess I just keep expecting to see something more."

His mouth flew open in comical shock. "Now that ain't fair!" Kate turned to hide her smile and started walking back out to the other room. "The water was damn cold the first time!" He pondered his second excuse for a moment. "And last week..."

"Save it." She cut in, not giving him a chance to finish replying before she disappeared from his sight. A few seconds later, a small blanket landed at his feet.

Sawyer huffed out a breath of air before carefully pulling his hands away from himself and looking down observingly. He sighed in annoyance before picking up the blanket and wrapped it around his waist.

"Damn women. Always wantin' somethin' more."

He stormed out of the bathroom angrily.

---

Sawyer sat on the sofa, shifting impatiently as Kate finished wrapping his midsection up. She took a step back and inspected her work.

"Pretty good at this, doc," Sawyer drawled, a playful smile playing on his face. "Sure you hadn't been practicing on me while I was out cold last week?"

Kate returned the smile but shook her head. "No, but I wouldn't put it past Jack to have snuck in a session or two with you..." Sawyer's grin faded instantly.

"Funny."

"I thought so," Kate agreed. She turned to their backpacks. "Your pills in here?"

"Yeah, front pocket." Sawyer fought back a yawn as he leaned back against the dull fabric of the couch. Kate took them out, along with a bottle of water, and turned back to Sawyer.

"Here," she handed him two pills and the water, then watched carefully as he gulped them down. He shot her a look.

"Don't trust me, Captain?" She ignored him and took the bottle back.

"How's your head feel? Sure you don't want me to wrap it up?" She stood on her toes to try and peer around to the back of Sawyer's head.

"It's fine, okay?" He growled, leaning back to block her view. "And I ain't gonna walk around like some mummy, thank you."

Letting the argument fade for now, Kate nodded. "Get some sleep, then." She stepped back and crossed her arms. Sawyer stared at her for a moment before snorting and shutting his eyes.

Kate lifted her gaze off him and scanned the bookshelf nearest her. Large, dusty books were firmly stacked from one end to the other (Robustness and Evolvability, Genetic Nutritioneering, Phenotypic Plasticity, the titles seemed to get more and more complex...) Moving along the wall, she looked down at a desk in the far corner. Random junk (scattered pens, unlabeled records, what looked like a nail file, a calendar of sorts, a bundle of broken plates...) littered the top, piled aimlessly over a few dozen sheets of paper. She walked over and glanced at the calendar; it was hand-drawn and it lacked an exact year, but there were tiny dots in the boxes under each day (Kate counted them up quickly and it seemed like this same calendar had been in use for nearly 17 years. Calculating the time they'd spent on the island, she noted with mild amusement that they were a few weeks away from Christmas. Not that it mattered here...) Sighing, she ran her fingers over the sheets underneath the other items, where fragments of sentences ran across the paper only to be crossed out roughly with thick, back markers ("Diseases of terrestrial, avian and aquatic life influence a number of..." "...many agents are zoonotic, thus transmissible between..." "...is the primary purpose of the quarantine.") Kate felt a chill run up and down her spine, one of many since they'd found this place, and she glanced over at Sawyer warily.

(If something happens to him because of this...)

She didn't finish her thought as her attention swerved to the unopened door to her left. Or more so, the clinkety-clanking noise coming from within the door. It sounded oddly like a metal pot being dropped into a kitchen sink. Repeatedly.

Looking from the door to Sawyer (who was now asleep) and back to the door, Kate stepped forward and lifted her hand to the knob yet again.

Slowly, she turned it and let the door swing open. The cold air inside the room gushed out and hit her with a refreshingly sanitary breeze.

She reached for the light switch but the lights went on before she had a chance to flip it.