Chapter 110
The fire was dying down; its glow threw dark, reddened shadows around the glade, making everything look like it was covered in blood. Kate and Sawyer were lying together, curled up close but barely touching and Sara and Vincent lay across the fire from them, already sleeping. They couldn't sleep; the electricity between them was pulsing and shimmering, keeping them alert, awake as they lay, their skin brushing slightly with every breath.
Kate still had the gash across her cheek and the blood had dried, coating her face and neck in sticky redness; Sawyer had tried to heal it but she refused, wanting to keep it a little longer to remind herself what she had done, and why...and what the stakes were in this war. It hurt, and it was swollen and bruised but she wore it with a little pride; for the first time she had done something wrong for the right reason and the horrible, acid guilt had gone, driven out by the knowledge that she wasn't wrong, this time. A corner had been turned for her, her curse wasn't real, her stars were false; she was still loved, and they were still there, she hadn't lost them.
Sawyer traced his finger along the cut, making Kate gasp with pleasure and a little pain; the electricity was snapping and she suddenly sat up, standing and taking his hand silently as she kissed him, pulling him up. Vincent raised his head, glancing up at them sleepily before rolling his eyes and dropping his head back down wearily on his paws.
She led him into the woods and he didn't resist; he couldn't. His heart was beating like a kettle drum, big booming thuds as she found a spot and turned to him, grinning; they came together with a force that shot sparks from him, making the electric air crackle and spit as he kissed her and it was two-sided too, frantic yet tender, leisurely and frenzied and his hands were all over her as he groaned softly, "Kate."
She shivered and her hands left his shaggy blonde head and slipped down to his shirt; the buttons were being difficult as her fingers slipped in their haste to get them undone and Sawyer moaned again as she finally undid the last and pushed it from his shoulders, sliding her hands across his chest, feeling the fading scars that criss-crossed his skin. His hand moved to her cheek and he pulled away for a second, rubbing his thumb lightly under her deeply purpled eye; it was swollen and she grimaced a little as he touched his finger to it. "Does it hurt?"
She hesitated before nodding. "Yes."
Her shirt came up over her head and he leaned into her, kissing her swollen cheek lightly as his fingers wandered over her bare skin, drawing goosebumps from her as she grasped him closer; he was so warm, so alive, and her tongue flicked against his throat as she pressed her lips to it, feeling his pounding-drum pulse beating through his skin. "I can fix it, Kate," he whispered. "Do you want me to?"
"No," she murmured against his throat, "Not yet."
"Why did you do it, Kate? He could have killed you." His lips brushed her forehead as he hugged her tight, crushing her body, her warm, soft, hard body against his.
She didn't lift her head, preferring instead to keep her face against his skin, over his heart; she said, "If it had been me, if Ana had killed me instead, would you have reacted any differently?"
He didn't answer right away; the image of Kate, lying on the jungle floor with blood pooling behind her head swam up behind his eyes and it took his breath away, reminding him again just how unsafe Kate still was., how dangerous it was for her. The answer was easy, he just didn't want to say it aloud, didn't want to give it power, but Kate's lips had paused over the hollow of his throat, waiting for his reply. "Yes," he said, his voice harsh, "I would have put the gun in my mouth and pulled the fucking trigger."
Kate pulled back, looking at him with a horrified expression; her hand went to his face, caressing his stubbly beard and he leaned into her hand as she said, "Don't ever say that, James." Her fingers slid to his lips and he stared at her hungrily for a moment before pulling her mouth back to his. There was nothing leisurely about it, now, as the need between them exploded into frenzied passion; within seconds they were both completely unclothed and Sawyer lifted Kate against him, holding her tight as she wrapped her legs around him. He groaned as he stumbled against a tree, knocking Kate against it as she moaned and shifted her position; he sagged against her at the sweet sensation of her sliding onto him and they stood still for a moment, leaning their heads together as they panted softly; then he moved, the frantic desire replaced by gentle, harmonious passion as they began to rock together, softly and gently.
The bark scratched her back, not unpleasantly; she grunted as he thrust a little harder, pushing her roughly into the trunk; his face was buried in her neck and he was whispering into her hair, saying her name over and over and she went rigid, moaning loudly as Sawyer grabbed the tree behind her, shuddering and gasping until he gave a strangled cry. A surge of power went through her, and she gasped as they cried out together, his hand spasming against the trunk behind her.
He pulled her away from the tree, her legs still tight around his middle, and they sank to the ground, their bodies twisted together; Sawyer leaned his sweaty face against hers, kissing the beads of perspiration from her forehead. She was smiling, softly, the horror and chaos of the night pushed away until later, when she could deal with it because she couldn't, not right now. All she could handle was him next to her, touching her, because she was afraid that their time was short and she didn't want to waste any of it; his hand wandered to her belly, cupping it gently as he kissed her sweaty, salty lips. "I love you, Kate," he said. "If...if it had been you I would have killed them both." He looked into her eyes. "Then myself. I don't want to live without you."
She held his gaze, not smiling. "I feel the same way, you know."
His fingers traced the marks her nails had gouged into her skin earlier, and he smiled softly. "But you have something else to live for."
They were quiet; he didn't speak as he held her, breathing in her earthy, natural scent, and drinking her exquisite beauty in. He was sorry because he knew she was pushing aside all of her feelings except for the ones that pertained to him, of course, and soon she would have to deal with them, magnified by time and events until they would weigh her down like lead. He hoped to God that Sara would be there because it was going to be hard.
Kate's eyes wandered to the tree, smiling at the delicious feelings still coursing through her, and she laughed, pulling Sawyer's face around and pointing. He chuckled too; the trunk was smoking a little from the handprint that was scorched into it. He kissed her, happily, and she settled into him, not even minding the leaves and twigs sticking to her sweaty skin; her nerves were still thrumming and sparking and she could feel his too, as his hand rested gently on her belly it began to burn a little from his heat, and he winked at her as he said, "Just markin' my territory, Freckles." He looked up at the smoldering trunk, grinning as her skin began to really burn, she pushed his hand away, chuckling at the red mark left on her skin. His dimples deepened and he whispered, "What you want me to claim next?"
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Locke had finally passed out on the padded floor; they all did, afterwards, the transition was hard but worth the sacrifice; after he was asleep they moved him to a bed in the ward. Hanso sat next to him for a few minutes, then he stood, stretching; it was a few hours yet until dawn and he would sleep until then, at least, so he had some time.
He could remember the first time he had been injected; he remembered nothing after the needle left his arm until the next day when he woke; he was covered in bruises and scrapes (they didn't have a closed room then, that was added later) and one of his assisstants had a broken nose and a black eye and he was tied to his cot. Helpless, he had berated them, telling them to let him go, but they were scared and he didn't realize it at the time but he was different, something in him had changed and though it wasn't noticeable on the surface, it was definitely there, a shift in his person.
Enraged at their refusal to untie him he had struggled mightily, finally ripping the ropes in half with one jerk of his arm, and so strength was the first change he noticed. Then he began to know things, just random, meaningless things would pop into his head, like something he had read twenty years before had lodged itself in his brain; he could read Dostoyevsky and retain and recite every word. Then came the voices; but they weren't really; they were the thoughts of everone around him, and as his power grew with more injections so did the voices and the distance he could hear them. Gradually his stealth increased and he became hazier, more ethereal, as did the others who joined him, eventually; and they didn't get any older. They aged, of course, some, but it was so imperceptible that after nearly thirty years he didn't look like he had aged more than ten.
He sighed, leaving John in the ward as she stepped outside for some air; the birds were chirping even in the night and he listened to their tidings, smiling. His plan had worked; Jack was coming back with Ana and Frank Sawyer was dead. He wouldn't miss that whiny, nasty SOB at all.
A man in scruffy, strange clothes came out of the Math Studies room and, seeing Hanso, made a beeline for him. Alvar put his musings on Jack and Locke aside and got down to the business of running the universe.
-----
They crept silently back to the camp, trying to be silent as they came through the trees so as not to wake Sara; she and Vincent were still asleep by the glowing fire, her hand resting gently on his neck with her fingers curled into his fur.
They sat together on the ground, their hands together; and Sawyer leaned against her, playfully. "I think Vinnie has a new girlfriend," he whispered, and Vincent opened his eyes, shooting Sawyer a blearily scornful look; Kate laughed softly and Vincent gave her a look too, then scooted closer to Sara. She patted him, gently, and turned her open eyes away from them; she was awake, but she didn't want to disturb them so she kept still, playing possum and trying not to overhear too much of their conversation.
Kate relaxed against Sawyer's smooth chest, since he hadn't bothered to rebutton his shirt her fingers had free access to his skin and she took advantage of it, running them along the firelit scars and ridges, kssing them softly as he held her, his hands stroking her hair. "What happened tonight, Kate?"
She didn't lift her head, but her lips stopped in place as she tensed, and her voice was...uncertain and scared as she said, "Ana came out of the jungle a few minutes after you left." His hands tightened in her hair as she continued weakly, "She blamed Sara for making Jack leave her, then she said that if she killed me she could get a second chance." Shudders racked her body as she said, "Then she shot at Sara and I shot her..."Her eyes were watering; Sawyer could feel tears trickling down his breast, "...in the chest. She didn't fall; she tried to shoot me but I..." She dissolved into tears again and Sawyer clutched her closer, "I didn't mean to kill her, James. I really didn't!"
As he held her he rocked gently, stroking her hair and face as the tears gradually stopped and her breathing became regular, and Sawyer noted with relief that she was sleeping. He shifted a little, to get himself more comfortable and he eased Kate down so her head was resting in his lap and she was stretched out; she moaned a little and he stroked her hair again until she calmed. It was good for her to get it out, the guilt was like poison, killing her little by little, and she didn't need any help with dying. It was living she was having trouble with.
Sara noticed the silence and she opened her eyes cautiously, rolling them around to see if they were sleeping; Sawyer was sitting up, Kate's head in his lap, and he was staring at her with a look on his face that made Sara want to cry; she felt like a peep, watching Sawyer with his guard so obviouly down, and so vulnerable, and she wondered briefly if this was a Sawyer Kate got to see. Or was this James? Sara thought that must be it; he was gazing at her with love, and fear, and worry...and sorrow. He bowed his head over her and whispered and Sara realized with a start that he was praying over her, and a tear slid down his cheek as he bent and kissed her bruised and swollen cheek. His look changed to one of joy as he slid his hand across her stomach, caressing it and staring at it with wonder and amazement. And longing.
Sara was ashamed of herself for watching; he thought he was alone, and his actions were private and personal, and Sara rolled her eyes away, closing them and pretending to be asleep.
