Chapter
144
The three women sat around the counter in the kitchen,
watching Sawyer as he cooked dinner for them; he was actually doing
well, with macaroni and cheese bubbling in one pot and the instant
mashed potatoes in another; the rice-a-roni was already cooked and
sitting to the side, and he had picked out a couple of cans of
vegetables, some green beans and corn, and they were also already
heated, sitting to the side.
Kate had watched him in loving awe, smiling almost proudly as he added some spices from the meager supply into the vegetables, grinning at her as he stirred the macaroni and took the potatoes off of the stove, flicking the burner off with a practiced twist as he also salted them and set them aside. She couldn't contain her curiosity any longer. "Where did you learn to cook?"
Grinning slyly, he pulled the macaroni off of the stove, flipped the lid expertly and used it to drain the pasta. "I wasn't always Sawyer, you know." He flipped the pot back over, leaving just a little bit of water in the bottom. "After I left Tennessee I had to make money somehow. I lied about my age and got a job in a restaurant, as a 'chef'." He added the powdered cheese and stirred it all together, grimacing a little. "Too bad there isn't any milk."
Ana laughed. "A chef?"
He glanced up at Kate through his shaggy hair as he shut off the burner and let the mac & cheese sit for a minute. "Well, I use the term 'chef' loosely." His dimples deepened as he gazed at her and she felt herself flush hot. "But I learned enough, didn't I?" He opened a cabinet and pulled down two plates and two bowls as Kate jumped down from her stool and went into the kitchen, opening up a drawer and pulling out two forks and two spoons. It was absurd, really, but yet it made perfect sense; there were only supposed to be two people at a time in the hatch, but as they all gazed at the four dishes and four utensils, they began to laugh.
Kate held out the forks to Ana and Sara, and as she handed Sawyer a spoon he kissed her, softly, feeling her body pulse in response to his. Suddenly Kate didn't think she'd enjoy the food quite so much.
That didn't stop them from digging in; they gave up on the plates and bowls and instead just set the pots and pans on the counter, communal plates; after what they'd been through sharing some cookware didn't seem like the worst thing in the world. It was heavenly, and Kate groaned a little at the thought of all of the carbs they were eating; they'd all be sick tomorrow but none of them cared. It was hot and it wasn't fruit; that made it the best food ever.
The pots had been scraped clean of every last speck of cheese and every last dot of mashed potatoes; every grain of rice had been consumed, and only the juice remained of the vegetables when they were done, and Kate felt like she was going to be sick, but in a totally good way; she hadn't felt so full in ages and it made her incredibly tired. She yawned, leaning against Sawyer and smiling up at him through sleepy eyes. "You cooked, I'll do the dishes." She started running water into the sink, adding some soap, but the water shut off and Sawyer took her hands, leading her to the bunkroom. "What are you doing?"
He pointed to the bed. "In. You need some rest, we walked all night last night and you've been up all day."
He had a point, and she was exhausted. He pulled the blanket back and made her sit on the edge of the bed while he took her shoes off. She eyed him, flushing with desire again and she said, "What about the rest of my clothes, Cowboy?"
He was tempted, so tempted, but she really did need her rest and he pushed her back, pulling the covers up over her; she reached up, wrapping her arm around his neck and pulling his face to hers. "You never cease to amaze me, James." Her lips met his, softly, and he had to struggle not to rip the blanket from her anyway.
"I know exactly what you mean, Freckles." He kissed her again, then pulled away. "Sleep. I'll be right here."
She sighed. "Okay." She gave him a jokingly suspicious look. "Can I trust you alone with those two?"
The two in question appeared in the door. "Hey, we're going down to the beach," Ana said, "I don't like it here. Sara doesn't either so we're gonna head back to camp."
Kate's weariness was gone in an instant, replaced by burning desire; she tried to keep the excitement from her voice as she said, "Sure, sure. Be careful."
Ana grinned; she hadn't expected Kate to put up much of a fight. "We will. Want us to lock up behind ourselves, Bunny?"
Their laughter echoed down the hallway as they left, Sawyer glaring after them but his anger was forgotten as Kate's cool fingers slid under his shirt and he turned to her, catching her mouth with his and pushing her back down onto the bed. He grinned wickedly and said, "What was that you were saying about your clothes?"
The first thing he noticed was his face was wet. He opened his eyes to darkness; lifting his head, he could see the stars and he was suddenly disoriented; how could he be looking down at the stars? As he focused and his brain ground to life he realized that it was a reflection, the stars were shining up at him from the surface of the waterfall pool and he shook his head, groaning as he pulled himself to a sitting position. He'd fallen asleep, still drinking from the pool and he wondered if that meant Ana had been a dream, a figment of his exhausted, dehydrated mind. She'd seemed so real, and he had felt her, taking his hand, kissing him; could a figment of his imagination be so real? Arouse such fire in him just with its touch? No, it was her, she'd come to him, saved him.
Hope sprang up in his heart; if she could do that then she must still love him, want him. Maybe winning her back wouldn't be so hard after all.
He wondered suddenly how long he had been out; if she had come to him then she could still be close and he tried to reason out which way the hatch was, maybe if he hurried he could catch up to her. He needed her, so badly, and it was clouding his mind as he tried to place himself but urgent panic kept him from thinking and he finally closed his eyes, took a deep breath and counted to five.
It worked; he smiled to himself and looked up at the stars and moon, and a stiff breeze blew through the glade, carrying whispers on it. He closed his eyes again, letting the wind talk and he nodded as it directed him where to go. Opening his eyes as the breeze died down, he quickly filled his water bottle, turned to his left and started running.
The breeze from the ocean didn't carry whispers but it was cool and fresh and clean; he supposed that was why he always felt like it was Shannon; soft and gentle, fresh and clean, insistent but giving as she swirled around him. It stirred her crucifix, making it thump forlornly against the sticks that were her only monument, the only thing of her that remained, and he reached out, catching it in his hand to stop the swinging.
Something moved in the shadows, he caught in in the corner of his eye but he didn't react, waiting for whatever it was to come out. He wasn't afraid of death, he never had been, not after the war; after the things he'd done he wished he was dead. But Nadia gave him hope, she saw the real him and he was surprised to find that he was still there, beneath the self-hatred and loathing and so he repaid her in the only way he could, by giving her freedom, the freedom that she wanted so badly.
Torturing Sawyer had put him right back at square one, though, and there was no Nadia around to help him, to show him that Sayid was still alive, still there, beneath all of that hate; but there was Shannon. She showed him that he could still love, that he wasn't a cold, heartless person and he loved her for it. Who would he turn to now? Because if the things Kate had said were true, then he had the terrible feeling his skills were going to be needed at some point in the future, and there wasn't anyone left to save him this time.
He didn't even want to try to wrap his head around the things they had told him, and he was sure that a lot was being left out; if this was just the first half of the story, what in the world did they have coming up? If not for Ana being there he wasn't sure he would have believed Kate and Sawyer completely but her concurrence gave it a ring of truth; partly because she wasn't the kind to just go along with some silly joke on him, and partly because she was in love with Jack and if Kate and Sawyer were telling lies she would have spoken up.
He'd known it the instant he saw her face when Jack was mentioned; it was the same look he got on his when Shannon's name came up. She loved him but something had happened, something to make her leave and join Kate and he wondered if he'd ever really know what it was.
When she stepped out of the shadows he wasn't really surprised. She didn't come close and he could barely see her in the dim starlight. Neither spoke for a minute, just stared at each other over Shannon's grave.
Ana finally broke the silence; she couldn't bear the fact that he didn't blame her for Shannon, that he was being so...nice. His eyes were shining as they held hers. "I should go, I'm sorry."
She didn't move, though, and he said, "No, Ana-Lucia, stay." It was crazy but he felt like if there was anyone on the island who could share his grief it was her, she was as close to Shannon as he in her own way.
She hesitated, then sat down across the grave from him. "I didn't know you were here."
"Didn't you?"
She smiled, caught in her little fib. "I thought you might be."
They were quiet, each staring at the two crossed sticks in grieved silence. "What is it?"
She didn't say anything; she couldn't. Her throat closed up and she could feel, with some shame, tears pricking at her eyes as the guilt surged through her again; the grave was like a punch in her gut and Sayid's kind, unaccusing eyes were the fist.
"Ana-Lucia, I do not blame you."
"I'm sorry." It was whispered, almost as if she were speaking through the wind. "I'm sorry for all of it."
His eyes clouded and the light was gone as he leaned forward and said, quietly, venomously, "Do not apologize for something that They did. You were brutalized by Them and you reacted as any victim would. As any victim should. You protected yourself, and those you care about. Do not ever be sorry for that."
She didn't know how to respond to that, so she just nodded, trying to blink back her tears. "Thank you."
"You are welcome, Ana." She felt lighter, not as in any kind of weight being lifted from her, her heart was still as heavy as a stone, but she was...brighter, as if the blackness that had been around her, inside of her had lightened.
The breeze wasn't whispering anymore but Sayid didn't feel alone. Comfortable silence enveloped them as they sat, thinking their own thoughts; finally Sayid said, "Where is Jack?"
Ana didn't look up from the grave; it had been a month now, and the wind and rain had erased the fresh look of it and that was somewhat of a comfort. "I don't know."
Sayid smiled. "I do not need to see your face to know that you are lying. So I will ask you again, Ana, and do not lie. Where is Jack?"
She had to smile because she could appreciate being called out on another fib; it was a different perspective because she was usually the one doing the calling. "You're good." She still didn't answer his question and he was about to ask again when she said, "In a glade about two miles from here."
"Why aren't you with him, if he is so close?"
She did look up at that and Sayid was smiling at her. "Why would I be?"
He shook his head. "I can tell when someone is stalling as well. But I will answer your question in hopes that you will answer mine. Quid pro quo, Ana, I'm sure you know what that means?" She rolled her eyes, nodding and Sayid smiled. "Very well. You are in love with Jack. Do not deny it, Ana. I see it."
She couldn't deny it. "Yeah."
"Now answer mine, Ana. Why aren't you with him?" His eyes were kind, caring, and she suddenly thought, Why not? He's lost someone too, maybe not to the same degree, but he'll understand.
"He lied to me." She sighed as tears began pricking at her again. "He said he loved me but I overheard him and Locke. He doesn't, he was just using me to get what he wanted."
"And what is that?"
She raised her eyes to his and they were wet, sparkling in the starlight. "Power. Control. He's...different, Sayid."
His voice was soft. "Is he?" He sat back, looking up at the stars. "When we first crashed it was Jack who took control of the situation, got everone away from the wreckage, took care of the wounded." He looked aside at her. "And the dead. But after the first shock he gave up the reins. He didn't want to be the leader, but it was thrust on him because he had taken the first step, he had taken control. And so he took on the responsibility, he became what everyone wanted him to be."
Ana shook her head. "I see where you're going. Maybe he's doing the same thing for me? Taking on the power and the control because he feels like he needs it to save me?" She turned her head as angry tears began to trickle down her cheeks. "I heard him, Sayid. He said it, out loud. To Locke. He doesn't love me."
He reached out to wipe a tear away, saying softly, "Then he is a fool."
Ana looked up and their eyes met; two dark pools with stars shining in them and he didn't think, for once; he leaned forward and kissed her, softly; she hesitated at first but then she returned it, comforted and eased by his gentle touch. So different from Jack-
She jumped away, her eyes flashing panic as she stammered..."I...I'm sorry..we shouldn't..." She gave him a sad, regretful look then disappeared into the trees.
He didn't call after her; he couldn't, he wasn't sure he wanted her to come back. The gentle breeze played around him again, alone, solitary, and there were no whispers to comfort him.
Sawyer hated that fcking alarm. They had been right in the middle of...well, they had been in a pretty bad position when the damn thing started beeping and Kate had to leave to turn the thing off, and frankly, by the time she came back the mood wasn't quite the same. It was still great, but just...off.
They were sprawled across each other in the bunk, still sweaty after their second round and now Kate really was exhausted and she was already snoring softly, her breath tickling his chest. He closed his eyes, savoring the silky feel of her skin beneath his hand as he stroked her, softly, and then that damn BEEPING again. It was infuriating, and Kate raised her head sleepily, about to climb over him and he stopped her. "I'll get it."
She smiled blearily and was almost immediately asleep again as he slipped out of the bed, sliding on boxers, just in case, and he headed into the computer room. He went to the computer, cursing the computer, the island and, for good measure, Jack as he yawned and entered the numbers, 4...8...15...16...23...42. He hit execute and the timer reset, and as he did a whirring, whooping siren sounded and the blast doors started to close. He reacted too slowly and he couldn't get under them, and he didn't have anything to wedge under it; suddenly he panicked; where was Kate? "Kate!" The door clanged shut and the siren stopped.
"James!" He could just hear her through the door. "Are you okay?" Her voice was muffled but he could make out her words and he hurried to ease her panic.
"I'm fine, Kate. Are you okay?" He was shouting and it was ringing against the steel door, hurting his ears, and he was surprised to hear panic still in her voice when she answered.
"I'm fine. What did you do?"
"What? I put in the numbers and hit the damn button. That is the drill, ain't it?"
"Are you sure the numbers were right?"
He sighed in frustration and worry, banging his fist into the door. "Shut up, Kate. I didn't do anything."
She was quiet and he kicked himself for snapping at her; as usual he let fear and worry turn to anger and lashed out at the wrong person. The lights went out, suddenly, flickering before casting him in an eerie shadow; there was a soft pink glow and he looked up, his mouth dropping open in shock. Kate finally said, "James?" in a hesitant, weak voice, and he was so stunned by the incandescent drawing on the ceiling that he didn't answer her until she said his name again, a hint of nervous panic in her voice.
"I'm fine, Kate," he called out, without taking his eyes from the- what was it? It looked curiously like a map of the hatches; if he pictured the island map over it, a bunch of the squiggly things matched up generally with the hatches they knew about and the question mark in the center lined up over the middle of the eastern mountain range. Where the new hatch was. There were some they hadn't known about, too, apparently, if it was a map, along the eastern shore of the island.
Kate's tremulous voice echoed through the door. "What's going on, James?" She sounded terrified and he said, still not looking away from the map, "Nothing. It's a map." It was almost hypnotic, and he wished he could read the writing next to the squiggles.
The alarm whooped again and the lights flickered back on, obliterating the pink and blue map; he turned to the bomb doors as they began to rise and Kate ducked under them, throwing herself into his arms as he chuckled, "It's okay."
She just held him for a few minutes, relishing the hard feel of him beneath his skin, he was so strong and she felt so safe as long as she knew he was alright. "That scared the sht out of me."
"Me too. There was some kind of a map on the ceiling, when the lights went out." He pointed up to the blank tiles. "I think it was of the island, of the hatches. But there was writing next to 'em, so maybe we should see if we can see it again."
Now that she knew he was okay her rush of adrenaline was fading, leaving her even more tired than before, and she tried to stifle the yawn but it wouldn't be stopped. "Okay."
He laughed, shaking his head. "I don't think so. It can wait until you get some sleep."
She yawned again, leaning against him. "Okay."
He swept her up into his arms and carried her back into the bunkroom, laughing as he realized she was asleep before he even put her down. Slipping under the blanket with her he closed his eyes, clutching her soft warmth to him as he slipped off into sleep.
