((A/N: Check this out! My author's note is at the front of the chapter! Are you all shocked and appalled? Is the world falling down around you? ;; Actually, I was going through previous chapters checking my grammar, and I noticed that the Author's Notes at the end of the chapters totally ruin the mood. It's like… OMG! Sawyer's in the hatch! Sawyer's been punched out! Sawyer's been locked up! Sawyer Sawyer Sawyer oh NOOOO- and then all of a sudden I'm there being all bright and cheery and Ami-like and I snap the mood like a Chistmas cracker. My bad, everyone- maaaajor editing lapse. I'll start putting them in front from now on and let you all bask in post-chapter-ending awe (yeah, I wish) uninterrupted by my feeble ramblings. Still, though, I guess it's possible though that having author's notes in the front of a chapter will be just as bad? Should I dispense of them altogether and just shut up and get on with it? Your opinions are good here.
Similarly I'll stop whining for reviews since I now have a whole bunch and am proud and moderately content. What can I say? I'm just an attention whore at heart. There's no pressure here- I love feedback, but I also simply love writing, so don't think I'm doing this just for the flattery. That said, I'd like to thank everyone once again for their concrit and kind words. Much Lost love to you all.
Kisses, Locked Heart Ami))
Chapter 5
When he woke again mysterious hours later, his head was inexplicably much clearer- though his limbs were still heavy, slow responding to commands.
With an effort far greater than it should have been, Sawyer raised his head, looked around. Same room, lying on the sand floor, but now on an improvised bed of foliage and leaves- which meant, he realized, that at some point he'd been so conked out that they were able to pick him up and actually move him. Not a comforting thought.
Not alone, either- big surprise. Jack and Sayid and Locke and Kate (damn, when had they gotten to a first-name basis?) were there with him, locked in an incredibly quiet argument of the kind you have around a sleeping man. How considerate. He would've stayed quiet, listened in, but suddenly out of nowhere-
FLASH Do you have to be here?
-And against his will he groaned, pressing his aching head into the cool ferns below it. He startled them, to his satisfaction- Kate actually jumped.
"You're awake," said Jack.
"Hell of a doctor, ain't ya?" He retorted, then, glancing at Kate- "Keep two feet on the ground, sugar, I ain't done nothing yet." She made a soft scoffing sound, rolling her eyes. Sawyer frowned, shortchanged- that wasn't even contempt!
Jack was coming towards him, kneeling at his side, clasping his hands with such a look of selfless concern that Sawyer wanted to kick him. Such damn philanthropy for such a home-invading amnesiac-puncher. That was one score Sawyer wouldn't forget to settle.
"Feeling better?"
"A damn sight better'n I did on your room service," Sawyer replied, nodding at the untouched glass of water. Jack colored, confirming what Sawyer had until then thought were kinda far-flung suspicions. His eyes narrowed as he persisted to Kate, "He always that persistent with his prescriptions, Freckles?" She set her lovely mouth, turned away. So- he was right.
Sayid approaching now, and Sawyer tensed in spite of himself, trying to struggle into a sitting position and only then discovering that his hands were tied. (Well, of course his damn hands were tied. What had he expected, some semblance of hospitality?) He managed it but only with difficulty, and he cursed himself for being so obvious as the Arab said "Do not be afraid. I will not hurt you. Tell me- who do you think I am?"
Hurt him? He'd like to see Aladdin even try it in a fair fight. "I dunno. The Al-Qaeda poster boy?" Sayid's look darkened to a smoldering glare and Sawyer pressed his luck, continuing, "Then this must be the Taliban beach villa. I'm a hostage, huh? Tell me. Am I gonna get to star in my very own snuff film?"
"That's disgusting, Sawyer," Kate snapped, and Sayid moved back to the opposite side of the hut, not that he could put much distance between them- guy could hardly stand up straight.
"Why hell, sugar, I happen to agree with you. But if I'm to assume that your answer's gonna be no, that leads me to the real question which is- for the hundredth time- who the hell are you people?"
Silence. They looked at each other, at him, at the walls. But nobody said anything. He fought anxiety, frustration, as he nodded at Locke. "You're a quiet man, ain't ya? They're always the honest ones. You tell me."
Locke regarded him for a few seconds, mouth set, eyes inscrutable. Then; "We're your friends, Sawyer."
Sawyer's turn to gape; finally collecting himself enough to scoff "My friends, huh? Sure got a funny way of showing it. 'Specially Cortez there."
"Why do you keep calling me that?" Jack snapped.
"Cortez," Sawyer drawled. "You gotta have been to college, doc. Sure ya ain't heard of him? Invaded Mexico? Took heaps of prisoners? Acted like a general jackass?" he raised an eyebrow.
Jack looked troubled. "You aren't a prisoner, Sawyer."
Sawyer looked around, taking in the hut, the drink, the rope binding his hands. "Know you're right, buddy," he said sarcastically. "I've just been havin' so much damn fun playin' along that I kinda forgot." Pause. Then added, more quietly- "I'm not that dangerous. You didn't have to drug me. Hell, you definitely didn't have to tie me up."
"You threatened a nursing mother."
Sawyer bit his lip. He hadn't wanted to call his own bluff, but if it was his only chance at freedom… "I wouldn't actually have hurt her." He admitted. "Hell, lady had a baby. I wanted out and she was handy. That's all."
Jack looked at him steadily, testing him with his eyes. Sawyer resisted the temptation to drop his own gaze. "What proof do we have that that's true, Sawyer?" he said finally, not lookin' even half convinced.
Sawyer paused. Actually thought about it. "You got my word of honor," he said finally, and couldn't believe it when nobody moved. "What?" he challenged angrily, speaking a good deal louder than he had to to be heard. "Ain't that good enough for ya!"
"What proof do we have that your word is any good?"
"What proof do you have that it's not?"
"I… well, none that you can remember, I guess," Jack admitted. Pause. "I… don't know."
"You've got to trust him sometime, Jack," said Locke. "You can choose to do it now, by mutual choice- or when the rope breaks and the pills run out. Personally, I'd choose to do it on both your terms rather than neither. We should be saving those pills anyway, using them for medical emergencies, not enforced bed rest."
"THANK you," Sawyer growled at Locke, and hid as best he could the fact that he was desperately waiting for Jack's reaction.
It came only after a long and doubtful pause. "If we untie you," he said reluctantly and with no reference at all to the sedatives, "We're going to have to lay down some ground rules."
"Shoot."
"All right. First of all- no violence. I don't care whether you're threatening to strangle Claire or- or just leaving banana peels around for Hurley. Got it?"
"I dunno, doc," he said sarcastically. "You know what they say about us Neanderthals. We just can't curb our vicious impulses."
"I'm not joking, Sawyer. Do you understand?"
"Yes," he snapped. "Yes. I understand. No stealin' lunch money. Is that it?"
"No way. You- you have to listen to what we have to say. You keep asking who we are, where we took you… when we answer those questions, you have to promise to at least think about the answers."
Sawyer rolled his eyes. "Now how the hell are you gonna know whether I'm doin' that or not?"
"I've got your word of honor," Jack said evenly, as their eyes locked. "I'm going to trust you. Will you do it?"
No other way around. "Fine, Thought Police. I'll do it."
"Okay," said Jack. "In that same vein- you've got to answer questions put to you. No matter what they are."
Sawyer stared. "Don't ya think that's a little- private?"
Jack shrugged.
"Look, Captain Jack, I can't just jump when you say jump. I wouldn't if I could, and I can't. I'm in the army. I'm not allowed ta give you any more than name, rank and serial number."
"The army?" Jack looked stunned.
"Yeah." Said Sawyer. "In a matter of speakin', I'm in the army. The army.Perhaps you've heard of them? Tall? Dog tags? Carry guns? What, you didn't think I got that MK-41 at a souvenir shop, did ya?"
"Look," said Jack, "I honestly don't know what you're talking about. But if we can't reach an agreement…."
Locke intervened again, much to Sawyer's relief. "How about," he said to Jack, "He has to ask any question put to him, except for those he has expressly been told not to answer by a commanding officer."
"Okay," said Jack.
"And no questions about sex," Sawyer added, feeling a little cocky over the compromise. "No business in the bedrooms of the nation, doc."
"All RIGHT!" Said Jack. "Any questions except specified secrets and… things of an… explicitly personal nature. Okay?"
"Fine by me," Sawyer said with a smile.
"Good." Said Jack. "And lastly, you can't run away. We untie you, you gotta stay here. That's all."
Sawyer couldn't speak for a few seconds, and when he managed it, it was a growl. "I gotta stay here? I can't leave?" He still couldn't believe his ears. "What the hell kinda condition is that?"
"Well, it doesn't really matter, does it? I mean, if I untie-"
"How the hell can you set a rule like that an' still claim I'm not a prisoner, Cortez?"
To his surprise Jack looked really hurt, closed his eyes for a second before replying. "Look. Think you're a prisoner if you want," he said finally, his voice hard. "I'm not debating this one. If I untie you you're staying here. Which'll it be? Yes or no?"
Sawyer closed his eyes, resting his aching head in one hand. "Yes," he muttered, trying to hide the defeat in his voice. "Yes. Okay? You got me, Captain Jack. I'm an inmate. Yes." A sigh. "All right?"
He kept his eyes closed, and the long black silence pounded in his ears.
Then Jack broke it with words both a blessing and a curse. "Okay. Kate, would you?-"
Sawyer heard a metallic click, then a soft sawing sound, feeling the smooth-silk feel of Kate's hands on his rough damp ones. He opened his eyes just in time to see the thin cord snap under her penknife.
Lifted his bowed head to look into her face- and she was looking back at him- and Sawyer felt something deep and electric stir within him, something utterly alien to their time and place. Kate parted her lips slightly as though to say something, but nothing came out. Finally Jack cleared his throat and she flinched, stepping back quickly, closing the penknife with a snap.
"There you go. Free." Jack- briskly. He had noticed whatever had juts happened between Kate and Sawyer and, to Sawyer's pleasure, obviously disapproved.
"Free enough to actually walk around the Gulag," Sawyer retored, chafing the ciriculation back into his starved wrists. Very unsteadily he stood up, the top of his head brushing the ceiling. "You drive a damn hard bargain, Cortez."
Kate was not looking at anybody, fleeing through the door. "Hey- Freckles!" he called. "Freckles! Wait."
She stopped and turned to face him, something strangely tormented in her expression. He beckoned her a little closer, painfully aware that all eyes in the prison-hut were on them.
"Look," he muttered awkwardly, trying very hard to keep his voice low enough to prevent the others from hearing, knowing there wasn't a chance he would succeed. "Would- would ya do me a favor?"
"What do you want, Sawyer?"
What do you want, Sawyer?
It was worse because he had been distracted and he nearly lost balance completely, closing his eyes and suddenly ill. No one reached out to help him and he doubled over, resting his elbows on his knees, praying not to throw up, praying, praying.
At length the false memory passed and he straightened up, casting a glare over his shoulder at Jack. "Thanks for the help, Jackass."
Jack shrugged. Sawyer turned back to Kate. He was humiliated, but he still had to ask. "Look… my meds. They're still in the hatch. Now if I'm not supposed to leave, I can't exactly get those, and I really, really need them. Would you?..."
"What?" she said, brow furrowed. "You want me to go get them? Is that what you're asking?"
He swallowed. "Yeah. Yeah, that's what I'm askin'."
Kate regarded him with those unreadable dark eyes while he stared mutely back, his thoughts one silent plea.
"Sawyer…" She said slowly, and, recognizing her tone as one of refusal, he panicked.
"Freckles- please! You don't understand. I NEED those meds. They're my only chance. I mean- you don't understand. You really don't. Without that stuff- I can hardly hear myself think. They're starting to wear off and it's hell, I mean damn, you saw me just now." He burned with silent shame, hadn't wanted to point it out, but if she could just see…. "And my doc says- says if I don't take them I'm runnin' the risk of never getting my memories back. Not ever. Cuttin' myself off for good. An' I couldn't live like that, Freckles. I'd- I'd die. You got no idea what this is like. Not even old friends to visit in the middle of the night. Please don't take that hope away from me. You can't- take those things away from me-"
He broke off, wrestling with emotion. Kate was staring at him as though she had never seen him before. Desperately he reached out, grabbed her arms. She flinched- tensed- but didn't pull away.
"Please." He whispered. "Please. Freckles- Kate. You got no idea how dark and lonely it is in here."
A long, crystalline silence that Sawyer thought would kill him. Then-
"I'll get them," Sayid broke in, and left Sawyer limp with relief. "Your medications- where are they?"
"They're in a cupboard." Sawyer replied, letting go of Kate's arms. "Beside the storeroom, above a counter. There's a bunch of medications and one of those… shooter-things. Can't miss."
"Sayid-" said Jack, doubtfully- "I'm really- not sure this a good idea."
There was a second's loaded silence between the two men, a significant pause that Sawyer could not guess the meaning of.
"Then it is lucky," Sayid said at length, firm and a little bit cold. "That in my case, you do not make the rules." He glanced around the hut, nodded at the others, then stalked out.
Sawyer whistled into his wake, feeling supremely grateful. "Got to hand it to Abdul, doc. Guy knows how to make an exit."
"Yeah, well, I just hope you appreciate what he's doing," Jack snapped back before he could collect himself- then continued in a more measured tone, "Well. You've been in here almost a day. You want to go outside?"
"A day?" Sawyer snorted. "Why HELL yes, Javert, I'd like to stretch my legs if that's fine by you."
"Someone should probably warn you," Locke said suddenly, walking towards the exit- then turning back. "Not everyone's thrilled about what happened to Claire- Charlie in particular. So I'd watch my step if I were you."
"No worries, pal," Sawyer said sarcastically. "If I see the little guy I'll call the Hobbit Police right away." Locke laughed- Kate ducked her head to hide a smile, and even Jack looked a little amused. "Now that's settled," he added, "Should we run through the rest of my pest-control problem list, or d'you mind if I try to air out the last of this headache?"
"Be my guest," Jack said, indicating the much-coveted doorway, and smirking slightly Sawyer stepped out of the hospital hut and onto the soft sand, closing his eyes and letting sunlight and freedom stream across his bruised face.