Thanks for the reviews, sorry it took so long to update
The noise the helicopter made as it left the beach was deafening, and without Kate's ragged breathing tearing at him she could well be dead in his arms for all he knew. The tornado of sand kicked up by the propellers attacked his eyes, burning them as he used all his energy to keep Kate's face and wounds pressed against his body. She was bleeding to death against him, and all he could do was hold her tight and pray she would be ok. Sawyer wasn't really the praying type, but Kate was his exception, Kate was his exception to everything. She was the one he didn't have to lie to, the one he didn't have to have a front with, she knew who 'Sawyer' was, and whether he liked it or not, she knew who he was. So he kept her shielded in his arms and prayed for her, prayed for himself, prayed for them both.
Kate's vision had clouded by the time the helicopter had gone, not that she particularly noticed it going, the beating of her heart eclipsing everything else. She could hear Sawyer's voice, somewhere far away, but his words wouldn't form in her mind. She was trapped inside herself, the shadow of reality forgotten, erased by the cold numbness that was spreading throughout her body, fighting the beating of her heart. Somewhere, someone was telling her to keep her eyes open, but that couldn't be right, she was so tired, she wanted to sleep, wanted to escape the numbness that was eating her.
Sawyer's luxury beach shack seemed ridiculously inappropriate for what he was going to have to do, cramped and dirty. He'd placed her on his makeshift bed of airplane seats, but they were too small for anyone over the age of eight to actually lay on properly, and her body was shaking, worrying him that she might fall off. He had abandoned his attempts to keep his voice calm and level, she hadn't responded to that, and so he had let his fear creep in, releasing emotions he never thought he would let out. His hand shook as much as she did when he placed his hand on her forehead, trying to steady her, reassure her. His own thoughts sunk into desperation as he took in her cold, clammy skin, icy despite the overpowering heat of the sun. Her eyes wouldn't focus on him, her eyelids fluttering wildly. He didn't have to be a doctor to know that these were not good signs. The fact that she was still conscious, if not lucid, surprised him. She was real bad, loosing blood quickly, and he was going to have to try and fix her.
He wished, for the first time since he'd met the man, that the marshals had left Jackass here. Sure, Freckles would probably go all lovey-dovey on him for saving her life, but at least she would be alive, and he wouldn't be alone. Instead, it was up to him, a redneck con-man who didn't have a clue about anything, much less how to save Kate's life. Taking the hidden remnants of his vastly dwindled alcohol supply, Sawyer doused his hands in vodka, and with a silent apology, covered the hole in her stomach with it too.
"This is gonna hurt Freckles." Sawyer's fingers hesitated over the wound, terrified of the damage he might do. But the knowledge that she was as good as dead if he didn't do anything forced him to act. His fingers groped blindly, finding the bullet and soliciting an agonised scream from Kate. He pulled it out quickly, wincing at her pain, ignoring the blood dripping from his hand. He pushed one of his shirts into the wound, trying to halt the flow of blood his actions had caused to spew from her. Only when he had composed his thoughts and pushed his guilt back did he dare to look at her. She had lost consciousness, her face looked peaceful. Despite the smearing of dirt and blood, despite the bruising left by the marshal, she looked more beautiful than anything he had ever seen.
Enchanted by her, it took him a moment to realise that she wasn't breathing. Terrified that he had killed her, Sawyer sat there, trapped in his memories. It had taken him an eternity to crawl out from beneath his bed, pushing past his father's boots, creeping out to where his mother had fallen. He was that boy again, trapped in the same moment, unable to move, afraid of what he might see.
Kate shattered these thoughts, as she had done before, a shallow breath escaping her lips. Sawyer felt himself fall apart, the only thought left in his mind was that she was still alive. Sat in the sand, pressing his shirt into her stomach, he made a bargain with her, "You owe me Freckles. Wake up, and we'll call it even."