Few Notes:

-Thank you all for your kind uplifting reviews.

-I decided to focus a little on the relationship between Sawyer & Jack. Thought it might be interesting to see some interaction between those two, so there will be a lot of that to come.

The Man Under The Mask

Part 3

Mr.Eko did not look surprise to see Sawyer walking about the next day. "Let me help you," Eko offered Sawyer a hand, which he shrugged off rudely.

"I don't need help, Mr.Ed."

"You should not exert yourself, it'll cause you more pain," Eko pointed, noticing the way Sawyer's face was contorted in pain.

"Well, thanks for the info, Doc," Sawyer spat, frustrated at his apparent disability, "but last time I checked, you were not my mother."

"And last time I checked," Jack's voice suddenly bellowed behind him, "this man saved your life, not once, but twice. The least he deserves is a decent thank you."

"Looks like you got yourself a fan here, Shaft."

When Sawyer and Jack continued to throw heated stares at each other, Eko shook his head and excused himself.

"What will it be now, Doc?"

"You know what, Sawyer? I think you're doing this whole act because you don't want to admit that someone had managed to beat you down twice."

"Excuse me?"

"The others?"

"What about them?"

"They shot you, left you to die and you wanted revenge but instead they manage to beat you again: kidnap you and," Jack paused a moment, "use a whip on you, among other things."

Sawyer shot him a severe look, "Interesting, Doc. You're just so smart, you think you know everything, don't you?"

"Well, correct me if I'm wrong."

But Sawyer uncharacteristically remained silent.

Jack sighed, giving up. Sawyer was not going to talk and that's that. "You took something for the pain?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

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The sound of the ocean provided him with some peace, a peace he knew he does not deserve. As he sat in his favorite spot by the beach and watched everyone else go on with their usual tasks, Sawyer was struck by a weird sense of belonging, a feeling he had never experienced before, well not since his parents' death anyway. A feeling so strange so frightengly satisfying. And as most of the survivors came by to greet him or just simply smiled his way, that feeling intensified inside of him, which scared him a great deal.

"What did the ocean do to you this time?" Kate said playfully, breaking his train of thoughts. She sat beside him looking ahead at the endless ocean before them.

"Excuse me?"

"You were frowning at the ocean if you hadn't noticed."

"I was not frowning at the ocean."

"Yes you were."

"Whatever."

Kate watched him, and really looked at him. She did not like what she saw. His face was unnaturally pale and there were dark circles under his eyes.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"You look horrible."

"Well, thanks for the compliment sweetheart," Sawyer teased, but Kate wasn't buying his act.

"Something is wrong with you, I can feel it."

"I said I'm fine Freckles." Sawyer was getting irritated with her inspection.

"You don't look fine to anyone. You're not yourself, even Jack's worried."

"Ha ha, now that's a good joke."

"No, he really is," Kate said convincingly.

"Freckles, if I'm sure of anything it's that your boy friend hates my guts."

"Jack doesn't hate you," Kate was upset, not by his words but by the sincerity of them.

"Of course he does."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because."

"Because?"

Sawyer turned his attention back to the horizon, eyeing the perfect scene ahead with a faraway look. "Because I know what it feels to be driven to kill a man."

"What? What are you talking about, Sawyer?"

Sawyer sighed, "I made him kill a man, the sheriff?" he explained, "I know what it feels. I know exactly what he feels every time he looks at me, because I know what I feel for the man who tricked me into killing someone else. Believe me Honey, hate is an understatement."

"Sawyer, Jack doesn't blame you for what happened," Kate could not believe that Sawyer still, or ever did, blame himself, "No one does."

Sawyer looked at her, his deep blue eyes full of secrets and sadness. "Whatever you say, Sweet Heart."

"You just think everyone hates you!" Kate snapped at him angrily, yet her anger wasn't directed at him, but for him.

"That's not true, Freckles," Sawyer looked into her eyes and smiled, "I know you don't hate me."

Kate swallowed a lump. For some reason her eyes were getting misty and her breaths getting suddenly uneven.

As he looked at her all teary and emotional, Sawyer found himself wanting to touch her, to feel her close, and the desire was only getting worse. Slowly he reached a hand and touched her cheek. "Why are you crying, Freckles? "

"I'm not," but Kate didn't know and certainly did not push nor wanted to push away from his touch.

Sawyer drew closer, his eyes descending to her lips, his finger brushing them. "Don't ever feel sorry for me, Kate. It's for your own good," he whispered into her ears, "I bet your boy friend wouldn't want you to, and we don't want to upset him now, do we?"

Kate went rigid, and when he finally released her, her eyes were dry and emotionless. Sawyer was satisfied. It was, after all, for the best, everyone's best.

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