A/N Sorry for the enormous wait it took to get these past three chapters up. New chapters should be uploaded soon as we come to the end of our story. So be on the look out for those. Please review and provide constructive criticism as you please. -NotSupposedToRaiseHim

It'll come back around.

Sawyer whipped around, his shoes squeaking against the waxed floor. His fingers found his gun as his eyes narrowed. He tilted his head slightly, listening. There was nothing, no voice. And yet, the hair on his arms stood up on end, his skin raised, as a shudder passed over him.

Sawyer shook his head, turning back to his task.

"Charlie! Charlie can you hear me?" Sawyer sputtered through the speakers. He jammed his thumb on the speaker button, not knowing whether or not he was coming through.

He leaned closer, over the desk, and examined the video feed from all the rooms in the building, so fast that his eyes strained and he felt the beginnings of a migraine coming at him full throttle. His temples throbbed in waves that crashed at his thought and vision.

His gaze fell on what he was searching for and he grinned. Jackpot.

The image was clearer then all the others, perfectly focused on Charlie, their lab rat. Charlie opened his eyes and looked around the room, eyes glazed, no doubt drugged on whatever meds they were feeding him. Desmond was in a room a hall away, unconscious. Claire was... Sawyer scanned the monitors, unable to find Claire. Finally, he saw her, being led to a room by some text-zombie.

A loud boom echoed from outside, reverberating off the wall, along with a churning, clicking noise. Rose, who knew where she was now, had once said that it sounded like cab taximeters.

Sawyer smirked. That, would be our fearless leader. Doc's on a rampage. Sawyer turned and a cloud of white smoke zoomed by the open door, making that strange ticking noise.

"Sawyer!" Sawyer snapped his head back to the monitors. Kate was limping down one of the white corridors, yelling, "Claire!" She held a gun firmly in her hands, her arms stretched out in front of her. She's lost, don't know where she's going, he thought.

Sawyer looked back to the monitors, memorizing everything he could manage. He kept his primary focus on exits, and their closeness to Charlie and Desmond's rooms. He watched as the plan took action. There was something missing...

Ben was nowhere in sight. Sawyer slammed his palm onto the table. The little weasel was supposed to go after Desmond.

There was another crash from outside, louder this time, closer. Screams, escaped from some terrified soldier, met his ears. Sawyer ran.

Jack-the-smoke-hero barreled up and down the halls, crashing through the walls like they were made of Legos. Sawyer could've sword he heard the doc screaming.

Swayer followed Jack around a corner. "Hey, Jack!" He shouted, cupping his hands to his mouth. Well, that was a great idea, he thought. Jack rushed past in a flurry of movement, not even stopping to say hello. The force of of it blew Sawyer's hair back and threw him into the wall. His spine forcefully whipped his head upward which slammed into the wall. He wasn't quite sure when he landed, but when he did, he broke his fall with his dominant wrist. CRACK. He scrambled to move out of the way, his whole arm throbbing.

I have to find the others, he thought. Sawyer stood, his good arm hanging limply by his side, and gritted his teeth. Desmond. Ben didn't go get him, he thought, Either Ole Bugsy decided to skip town us the rescue mission, or he's lying in a ditch somewhere.

He turned back into the surveillance room, to get the lay of the land one last time. Claire was in the room with Charlie now. Sawyer could hear Eloise talking to them, she must be in another room like this. He thrust his thumb on the intercom button again, hoping that she could hear. He overrode Eloise on the intercom.

"Hey there Blondie...," he gasped through the pain, still out of breath, "How are you and the has-been… doin'? The Dr. Pepper … Has exploded." Sawyer could only hope that she understood what he meant; he didn't want any of Eloise's goons knowing which one of them to shoot if they got his friends cornered. He saw her eyes widen, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

He ran down the halls, his footsteps pounding, in the direction he hoped was Desmond's room. There were two guards in front of the door, both unconscious. Jack's handwork, no doubt. He reached for the handle instinctively with his left hand, gave a shout, then yanked open the door with his right.

"Stupid wrist," he muttered. Desmond was inside, cuffed to a chair, his head slumped over his chest. He was muttering under his breath, his lips quivering, his head twitching. Sawyer knew the man could time travel, shift his consciousness; he wondered if that was what was happening now.

Sawyer shook his shoulders and Desmond's head flopped around like a rag doll's.

"Hey, Des, wake up, we gotta get you outta here." Desmond jumped and opened his eyes, squinting as his pupils dilated and adjusted to the light from the open doorway.

"Sawyer? How did you-"

"I'm part of A-team, Marty. We're here to bust you and the hobbit out," he said, "I'll explain everythin' later." He searched the room for keys, and found none. He then searched the adjoining room, his arm sending waves of pain along his spine which he tried to ignore. Finally, he saw a set of keys splayed out on a table next to a computer.

He released Desmond from his shackles, and Desmond rubbed at wrists that were streaked in blood. Sawyer grimaced in sympathy. The two departed, Sawyer taking the lead.

"Listen brotha," Desmond whispered, "We should have some, uh, backup on the way. When they- when Eloise sent me back, I got in touch with Richard Alpert. I told him to be here, on this date." Sawyer raised a hand and they halted, the hallway becoming eerily quiet. Sawyer turned to Desmond.

"Are you sure Manscara's comin'?" he asked, "He said he'd be here?"

"Aye, I'm sure," Desmond replied, "And he should be bringing others." Sawyer grinned. Suddenly, his wrist didn't hurt as much. Then the cold feeling returned, spreading along his spine, numbing his arms and legs, chilling his fingers.

It'll come back around...

Sawyer jumped, his eyes darting around the hallway, chasing ghosts. There's nothin' there...

"You say somethin'?" Sawyer asked. Desmond shook his head and shrugged. The cold feeling remained, and Sawyer felt as if he had an icy chain around his neck, pulling, strangling, choking.

"Don't move!" A voice yelled in their direction, and then out loud, "I've found two of them!" Footsteps echoed along the corridor, getting closer. Sawyer didn't turn around, didn't stop to think. He ran, Desmond right on his heels. He ignored the dull ache in his arm, the cold that wouldn't dissipate.

"We need to find Kate and Claire!" Sawyer shouted over his shoulder, "I don't hear the doc clearin' the building anymore!" He looked sidelong at Desmond, but Desmond wasn't there. A voice crept into his head, permeating his thoughts, angry and snarling. It was a voice Sawyer recognized, a voice he heard in his nightmares.

Dear Mr. Sawyer, you know who I am, and I know what you done. You killed me- on that island. You strangled me to death, because my son was a coward, because I conned your stupid, gullible parents. I stole your dad's money all away. He got mad and, well, you know the rest. I'm gonna kill you Mr. Sawyer. It's come back around.

The coldness spread around his neck like a noose, tightening. Sawyer grasped at his throat, his vision darkening at the edges.

And then he was there- right there. Tom Sawyer, Anthony Cooper, Con Man. Sawyer froze, his eyes unblinking. This isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real...

"Oh, I'm real Sawyer. In this place, I'm real." He walked up to Sawyer, and Sawyer didn't move, couldn't move. He was the same little boy lying under his bed, watching as long shadows crept under his door, getting longer, getting closer, coming to kill him. The screaming filled his head as the memory took hold, drowning out the sound of everything else.

"What are you doing? Get out of here! Leave us alone! Put that gun away!"

There was a loud bang, and James jumped, although the sound was years gone. He heard boot-heels clicking along the floor, spurs jangling. He was getting closer.

"No," he moaned, "No." The man was getting closer. His shoes were clicking along the waxed floor. Kate, Claire, Desmond, Jack, he thought, They need me. Clementine. He hadn't thought of Clementine in years; there had been no way to get back to her. He had never even met her. But the picture Cassidy showed him was etched onto his brain, and Kate had told him that she was beautiful, that she had his personality. I need to be there for her.

The words gave him strength, and he found that he could move. The feeling in his fingers returned, like pins and needles, spreading along his body. He glared at the man, steadying his breathing.

"I killed you once Sawyer, I'll kill you again." He drew his gun, keeping his eyes glued to Cooper's face.

"Sawyer!" A voice yelled. Sawyer turned to see the doc leaning against a wall with an unsteady hand, out of breath. Typical, Sawyer thought and nearly smiled.

"What are you doing Sawyer?" Jack asked, frowning slightly. Cooper was gone, vanished; Sawyer was pointing a gun into empty space. His hand was shaking. Sawyer grunted and turned away.

"How nice of you to show up, Leroy. You broke my wrist," he said, holding his arm aloft. He grimaced and let it fall. Jack's face broke into a grin, momentarily.

"I can tape it later," Jack said, "Where are the others?" Sawyer shrugged.

"I got separated from Desmond 'cause you didn't do your job right and some guards chased after us. Last time I saw Kate, she was looking for Claire. I saw her on the monitors in the surveillance room." He didn't mention that she looked injured, or that she seemed lost. He ran a hand through his hair, thinking. How did this get so messed up?

"Listen doc, Ben. I haven't seen him anywhere." Jack nodded, as if he expected as much.

"He's probably looking for... It doesn't matter. You said you were in the security room. Do you know the way back? We have to find the others." Sawyer nodded, and felt a weight lift from his shoulders. The doctor was taking charge again.