Fighting through feverish dreams much worse than before. The heat was so unbearable as though his blood was on fire. The pain continued searing a bullet shaped wound in his in his shoulder as he lay limp with infirmity. How bad it was to feel like this. At least before he had the peace of sleep but now he was trapped in a dizzy limbo. Between consciousness and terrors of his sleep the lines of reality began to blur. He heard things he wasn't sure were real. Whispers. Those whispers. Inhuman.
Another gun being fired. Maybe it was just the memory of being shot skipping in his mind. Or the memory of him shooting. That crack echoing through the rain. There were noises like shouting but they sounded so distant and were becoming quieter. Then for a while there was nothing and he hoped he had finally been surrendered to anaesthesia. He felt as though he were falling into dark hole, to weak to try and stop it.
What had he thought not long ago? Why was he trying to live?...to make it home?…yes home. The only home he ever knew. The beautiful beaches and the lush forest. He never did like nature before this. The tropical temperature was murder and he wheezed trying to breath in the humidity. The temperature seemed to rise continuously while he was drenched with sweat. Suddenly the sensation of cold water pouring over his body enveloped him. Water tricked over his face, down his chest and arms washing away the heat… it was bringing him home. When the cooling water ceased he began to shiver, violently and his weakness hadn't faded with the heat.
Shaking, it reminded him of the past. A memory. He was alone lying in a dark apartment exhausted with a fever, sick and no one to care for him. He remembered how weak he felt, hot and cold flashes spreading over his shivering skin. This was worse, this time he was going to die. Maybe he should just let go. He coffed the liquid that was suddenly choking him accompanied with a bitter taste. He felt like spitting but couldn't even frown. Murmurs. He was lifted slightly, leaning against something soft. No…not something…someone. Someone warm. Someone lacking the searing heat and shivering cold. A smell like apples or flowers and a whisper. Not like the other whispers. This one felt good to hear. This one was the whisper he wanted.
"Sawyer its Kate"
Freckles…so tired…
This time was not worse…it was better. An embrace full of care, tender hands and smooth lips.
"You've got to listen to me ok?"
Ok…
It didn't really change anything, from the moment he heard her he was taking in every word.
"You're not gonna get better until you take this pill so swallow ok?"
Pill…is that what it was...
"Here we go. Swallow"
Swallow…
"Swallow"
Swallow…
There was the water in his mouth again but it wasn't so desperate and forced but slow and easy. Hope. He swallowed and then there was a cheerful gasp.
"Good, Good!"
Kate…
"Hey! Hey. Can you hear me? Your gonna be ok."
Kate…he was still shaking…quaking, badly.
"Your gonna be alright"
Kate…
"You're home"