A/N: Published originally on AO3 for the Lost Secret Santa 2023. A huge thank you to myrenthenostalgic and AO3's obsessivedaydreamer for all the help with this.
He'd hated Christmas. It was a holiday he grew up dreading.
After losing both of his parents at the age of 8, Christmas had lost all of its wonder and magic and had never been the same. But he'd been forced to watch everyone around him be happy and joyful in every city he'd lived in as he bounced between foster homes. Tinsel, baubles, and garlands covered every home; there were twinkle lights galore and life-size inflatables of the Jolly Old Man placed on yards, despite the South not being known for snowfall. The happy music in every store felt like a taunt from God, mocking him and the tragedy he'd experienced.
He could hardly remember the last present he'd gotten before he'd met Juliet and her intense love of Christmas, but he could hardly stand to look at the decorations now, the bright red of everything flashed images of her bloodied body seared into his mind after letting her go.
The memories from before her were all too blurred with sadness, pain, and burning anger to be worth remembering. She'd brought joy back into his life, if only briefly, but the good memories of her had been tainted too.
So he'd made himself — and her — a promise, once he was back home safely: Christmas would be special every year, to honor her memory. They'd be filled with silly vacation ornaments, like the ones she once mentioned she loved to collect. He'd make his very own tinsel with popcorn to decorate the tree as they had done for those few years they got to spend together and, even though he hated it, he'd get to make the honey-glazed ham she loved so much. And he'd been doing a good job at keeping that promise so far, given the circumstances.
That first Christmas back, her loss all too fresh, he'd felt that he had nothing to celebrate. The only thing he wanted was his girlfriend back. The term still tasted bitter on his tongue, coating it with regret for waiting too long for "the perfect moment," and missing his chance to change their status; she had, quite literally, slipped through his fingers, and he was still trying to forgive himself for it. He would've loved to be able to call her his wife, but he would never see her again. However, he knew how much she loved the holiday and how much he'd learned to love it all over again because of her. He knew that, if she could see him now, wherever she was, she would love to see him celebrate it… and be happy.
He'd decorated in a rush but had spared no money. He'd wanted to make the transition home Oceanic had provided him with look like those North Pole set-ups in malls where kids could meet Santa Claus where they could make their Christmas wishes, the ones that he had avoided for as long as he could remember. It had been just him, Miles, and Claire, who had also brought her mother and son, Aaron. But it had been more than enough.
Aaron, then age 3, had been quiet and withdrawn since meeting his biological mother, missing the one he'd known as his mommy for most of his life. He seemed confused as to why she'd left him behind, and unsure of this new person. But seeing Claire's effort to be there for him as his mother since their return to civilization had inspired Sawyer to seek his daughter and try to make up for not being present or involved. Juliet would've liked that too.
He'd worked very hard to get in touch with Cassidy right before that Christmas season and even harder to earn her trust. It hadn't been easy. He'd moved close to them, but it had taken a lot of supervised visits before she'd let him take Clementine out for a couple of hours every weekend, and then longer before she'd let him take over some responsibilities regarding her well-being and education. But he prided himself in being a present father, and, as far as he could tell, a pretty decent one; he could probably say they had a surprisingly stable co-parenting relationship.
He wouldn't dare call it a friendship, even though he often confided in her about his life on the island, especially after learning how vital her friendship had been to Kate. He'd never expected Kate to keep her promise when she'd first left the island, and he most definitely had not expected her and Cassidy to have known each other before the crash, but it brought him an odd sense of comfort to know that his request had benefited them both.
Cassidy had been his only source of information on Kate, though her reminders of she's fine, Sawyer, she's doing well were all he got, and they were few and far between. After they'd landed three years ago, Kate had snuck her way out of the aircraft before authorities could check the passengers inside. He'd known little about her situation with the law then, but later understood what her probation meant and why she'd done it that way: not being found meant she could pretend she had never left.
He also understood her avoidance of group gatherings when it came to the survivors. She'd built a life for herself in California with Aaron upon her first return to the continent; a life that she'd had to give up so Claire could take her rightful place as his mother and balance could be restored. That was Kate's way of putting other people first, as she often had on the island, and making the best choice for Aaron. What he couldn't wrap his head around was why she wouldn't visit him, when they'd known each other for so long.
They'd been friends at one point. And then something more than friends. And then just friendly. She'd trusted him with her life multiple times before and he didn't understand why she couldn't trust him enough to stick around now. They'd both been mourning the loss of the ones they loved, they could've mourned together and helped each other heal as nothing more than two friends who had a shared experience that no one else in the world would have or would be able to understand. But she'd chosen to run. How very Kate of her.
Still, he'd invited her, via Cassidy, to his Christmas celebrations. The first year, Cassidy didn't even try to pass it along, most likely still angry with him for leaving and for returning, all too bitter over his phone call to want anything to do with him. The second year, Kate had said no, and it had almost looked like it had hurt Cassidy to tell him so. But this third year, the answer had been yes. And, as for his daughter, it had taken multiple attempts but, after three years of him putting in the effort, Cassidy had finally agreed to allow Clementine to spend part of Christmas with him. And it was going to be a good one.
The doorbell rang just as the timer he'd set on the oven went off.
The last hour had been rather chaotic with him trying to finish prepping all of the food and guests starting to arrive, but he didn't complain. Greeting the few people he considered family and having them sit together at a table was a big part of why he did this every year.
He'd started his day early with the mise en place for all the cooking he'd have to do for lunch and prepping the small turkey. Cassidy had dropped off Clementine soon after 9, with some final reassurance that their curly-haired mutual friend would really come. He assured her that they'd spend the day opening presents and playing with Clementine. Once Claire had arrived at some point after 11, with her mother and son in tow, he'd had an extra set of hands in the kitchen and for Clementine, a playmate.
Claire was a frequent visitor. She, too, had lost loved ones to the island. While he was unsure of what exactly her relationship with Charlie had been, he knew they'd at the very least been great friends. Sawyer had also seen the impact of finding out she had a brother, Jack, after she'd already lost him. That was another promise he'd made that he thought Juliet would be proud of — a promise to Claire, to be present for her and her son — but a promise to Jack as well, to take care of them in the same way he had taken care of all of them on the island.
Hurley had left the island for the first time since he'd taken over as the protector, not counting all the business trips he had taken with Ben Linus. Sawyer still held a grudge against Ben, for what he had done to Juliet from her time before the crash. Ben was, in no shape or form, invited to Christmas.
Both of Hurley's parents had passed away and, while the main purpose of his visit was to say his last goodbyes and make sure everything was in its place, he had made time to visit his chosen family and attempt to have a merrier Christmas than he would otherwise.
He'd been overjoyed to the point of tears when he saw Aaron all grown up. He'd been around him as a baby and had only seen him once or twice as a toddler when he'd been with Kate, but 6-year-old Aaron was showing off his recently acquired reading skills and it was obvious that Hurley was asking himself what parents ask themselves daily: where did the time go?
"Claire, can you get the door?" Sawyer said over his shoulder while pulling the oven door open and reaching for the oven mitt. She obliged without a reply and disappeared towards the entrance. He cursed under his breath at the heat emanating from the tray, through the mitt, and onto his hands until he set it down on the counter. He moved the steaming turkey onto the festive plate he'd picked out at the center of the table. After all, it was the star of their meal.
When Claire didn't return, he sought after her, thinking maybe the arriving guest needed some help unloading presents or food, only to find her still by the open front door, unmoving. It wasn't until he had almost reached her that he saw who stood at the door, and the toddler she held. "Well, I'll be damned, Freckles. Who'd'ya steal that one from?"
It wasn't until the words left his mouth and he saw her stiffen up that he realized what he'd said. His realization was followed up with a firm punch to his arm from Claire, seemingly broken out of her frozen spell. He readied an apology, but it didn't come out as he was now the one to stand still, staring at the child in Kate's arms. His curly hair was just slightly tousled as if he had just woken up from a nap, which seemed to be the case from the way his head rested on her shoulder and he rubbed his unmistakable hazel eyes.
Sawyer shook his head and brought himself out of his catatonic state when he heard Claire invite them in. He stepped aside and extended an inviting arm towards the long hallway, but didn't utter a word, his mouth too dry. They guided her down the hall and into the cozy living room. He watched as Kate took in all the decorations and pointed out the blinking lights of the Christmas tree to the little boy attached to her hip, who seemed to perk up at the sight.
Hurley didn't hesitate. Instead, he got up so abruptly that the couch slid an inch and rushed to her side, engulfing her in a tight hug. He didn't even register the little boy until he whimpered and tightened his grip on his mother's neck. Uttering his classic "Duuuuuuude," Hurley did a better job at forming coherent sentences than the rest of them. He told her how much he'd missed her and shot questions at her about the last few years and her son, AJ.
He was followed by Clementine, who spotted her beloved Auntie Kate she hadn't seen in a few years. Claire eventually hugged her, but Carole greeted her with a stiff nod, clearly unforgiving, and Aaron watched the adults around him interact in silence, unsure why the new stranger seemed so familiar, but satisfied that his mommy seemed to like her.
Kate seemed relieved that he didn't remember her as his mother. She hadn't expected him to, he was still very little when she returned him to his rightful family, but she'd feared that he would, and what the reaction of the Littletons would be.
Sawyer busied himself with bringing all of the food to the table, trying not to think too hard about Kate and the boy, and, once done with that, he called everyone to sit so they could all eat together. Lunch went by quicker than he expected, filled with small talk and compliments to the chef. He stalled the last bite of dessert just to see both older kids squirming in their seats, eager to finally open their presents, and everyone laughed as they both flew off their chairs as soon as he placed his spoon on an empty plate.
They all traded gifts and Claire exclaimed multiple times how guilty she felt that they hadn't bought any presents for AJ, as if they hadn't found out about him that very day. And Kate, who'd refrained from engaging in conversation more than necessary, reassured her that it was okay. Sawyer fought the desire to roll his eyes because it was good to see Claire back to her cheery self, enjoying the holiday.
Sawyer felt pride bubble up inside him when Clementine reached out for AJ and invited him to play with her and Aaron and all of their new toys. The boy toddled along with her up to the pile of Hot Wheels Aaron was sorting through, but entertained himself the most with all the wrapping paper bits scattered around them, much to the grown-ups' amusement.
"Is there somewhere we can talk?" he heard Kate nearly whisper behind him and cursed mentally for not sensing or hearing her behind him; he hated being snuck up on. Swallowing hard and trying to keep a neutral expression, he nodded and silently guided her to his office. He let her step in and closed the door behind them as quietly as he could, before gesturing for her to take a seat in one of the armchairs in the corner. He sat to her right and waited for her to be ready to speak, watching her stare at her own hands as she wrung them together. When she didn't say anything, he decided to prompt her. "AJ is Jack's son, huh?"
She nodded, still looking at her own hands, and swallowed hard. "Yeah. Yeah, he is.", she croaked.
"How?" He felt incredibly stupid for asking such a question. Of course he knew where babies came from. He had dropped out of high school, but he wasn't stupid. But as far as he knew, they'd broken up long before returning to the island and being dropped in 1977 and, while they'd made up, they'd all been focused on defeating The Man in Black and trying to leave. They hadn't left his side, let alone his sight, long enough to bring a life into the world. And Jack… Jack had stayed behind and been lost to them. He had sacrificed himself for the sake of everyone else, not unlike his beloved Juliet.
"The night before our flight. I'd abandoned Aaron. I wasn't in my right mind and I just missed him so much…" He could feel her sadness seep into her words. Knowing Kate, he could tell she had probably never spoken about the matter out loud. It was unlike Kate to trust people enough to open up to them. In a way, he was happy she felt she could open up to him, even if it had taken hiding from everyone for 3 years to do so. "I didn't know I was pregnant until I got back to the U.S."
He reached out to her and held her hand. Her eyes snapped to his face as she tensed up at the touch. "Why didn't ya come to me, Kate? Or to Claire? Hell, I thought we were your friends." He cursed at himself once again for sounding louder and harsher than he meant to, but while Kate had immediately lowered her head, she didn't seem any more bothered than she'd already been.
"The last thing Claire needed was to have me around her." He almost didn't catch that; it was almost as if she was telling herself that, something he felt she had probably repeated like a mantra. "She was trying to be a mother to her son and she didn't need me in the way of that. It's a good thing that he doesn't remember who I am and only knows her as his mother now." There was pain in her voice. He felt her sadness and her guilt. But he couldn't help but notice she'd left out the part of his question that involved him.
"What 'bout me, Kate? I coulda helped you with your pregnancy and with your son. Friends help friends. We don't leave them to struggle and face their shit alone. You helped teach me that, y'know? With all your running around the woods trying to help us fix everything and not giving a damn 'bout yourself." She turned her head away from him and tried to pull her hand away from his but he held it tighter and gave it an extra squeeze. "What were you running from that was so terrible that you couldn't let me help you?"
Her sob caught him off guard. It came before the tears, but those soon followed. He hadn't expected her to cry, even if he should've seen her inner turmoil coming to the surface. Unsure what to do and how to comfort her, he just let go of her hand and instead rubbed firm circles onto her back and waited for her to calm herself. "It's my fault they're gone, Sawyer," she choked out. "It's my fault Jack and Juliet are dead and I didn't think you'd ever forgive me for it."
"What do you mean, Freckles? Why the hell would it be your fault?"
"You and Juliet were leaving. We were on that sub, we were leaving the island. You two had a life together, a happy life, and you were going to keep living that life. You would have been safe, and I… I made you go back. I made you go back and Juliet died." Her breathing hitched and the sobbing resumed, as did his back rubbing. "And Jack… I shouldn't have let him stay behind."
"Freckles… Juliet chose to go back to the island with you. She chose to help. It wasn't your fault. Or mine. Or hers. It was an accident, it wasn't anyone's fault. It could've been any of us. Whatever happened, happened. It took me a long time to come to terms with that, but we can't change it, but we can choose to not let it dictate how we live our lives. And the Doc, he made his choice too. He chose to save all of us, he chose to save you. And it's a good thing he did or you wouldn't be here with that cute kid of yours. You've got something to remember him by."
"Yeah, but he'll only ever know his dad through stories and pictures. I wish I could give him more than that. I know Jack would've loved him. He would've been a good dad… He was great with Aaron."
Sawyer had no doubt Jack had been great with Aaron. While they hadn't always gotten along or seen eye to eye, he couldn't say that Jack had been anything but great because he knew Jack had cared — about all of them — though sometimes too much.
"I'm afraid I'll forget him," he heard her say. And it felt like a sucker punch because he felt the same. In a way, he felt a little jealous of Kate. She had something tangible to remember Jack by, a child who would grow up to look like a good mix of both of them. He didn't even have pictures from his time spent in Dharmaville. All he had of Juliet was the fading memories he tried to hold onto like his life depended on it. Because maybe it did.
She flinched when he shot out of his seat but watched as he went straight to his desk and pulled a manilla envelope out of the top drawer. He'd had no plans of showing his most recent achievement to anyone for a little while longer, but he felt that Kate could benefit from it as much as he had. He handed her the envelope and plopped back into his seat.
"What is this?" she asked.
"Open it."
He watched as she pulled out the final version of his manuscript and eyed it carefully. He could see a multitude of emotions going through her face as she read the title and dedication on the first pages. "You wrote about the island?"
"Don't act so surprised, Freckles, ya know I've always loved books," he joked. "Besides, I thought I was forgetting Juliet, too. And I didn't want to forget. I didn't want to forget any of them."
She nodded, her eyebrows knit as she ran her hand over the title again. "I named it Lost. Not just because that's how we felt when we crashed on the damn island, but because of everything and everyone that island took from us," he continued.
"Are you going to publish it?" She reached for his hand and squeezed it, smiling at him. She was proud of how far he had come, of the man he'd become, and she could only hope he felt that through her touch.
"Well, yes, I am! I should have the first copy of the hardcover in a couple of months. But don't tell anyone I told you, I want it to be a surprise when I invite 'em over. Hopefully Frank, Miles, and even Richard can make it too this time."
"I'm sure I can fake shock," she joked with a small smile.
"You'd better. But you'll have to wait to read it. I promise to get you a signed copy, free of charge. See, I can be kind!" She put the manuscript back in the envelope and handed it back to him before she wiped her sleeves across her face, drying up whatever moisture was left on her cheeks.
He placed it back in the safety of his desk drawer and walked back to where she now stood. "Now come here and give me a hug," he told her, pulling her into his arms before she could protest. It felt good to clear things up, to have a conversation with a friend he cared about so dearly. "What do you say we get back out there and try to have a merry Christmas? For Jack and Juliet."
"For Jack and Juliet."
Almost immediately, when they stepped out of the office, AJ came barreling into his mother's legs and held up a toy, babbling something with a dimpled grin that Sawyer couldn't understand but that Kate had no trouble translating. "How nice of Aaron to let you have a car, baby. Did you say thank you?"
The boy nodded as she picked him up and placed him on her hip. Together, they made their way back to the living room where everyone was and it wasn't long before AJ eventually fell asleep in his mother's lap. Kate felt much lighter after their talk, and interactions became easier as the afternoon went by. Sawyer's words resonated with her: family truly was everything. And her chosen family was a pretty good one.
The greatest gift of all is spending time with those you love, Juliet had said once. He had misunderstood her that year, thinking she'd meant she was just happy to have him around when he'd forgotten to get her a present on their first Christmas together. But he understood now. Of course she had been right, Juliet always was. And now that he had all of them back, even if not all of them were present, he felt a little more whole.
Hurley came up to him and gave him a pat on the back. "You know, dude… Juliet's really proud of you."
With a smile, he looked up at the star atop the Christmas tree, shiny and golden. Her favorite piece of Christmas decor, the one she would fight him to put on the tree at the very end of setting it up. The one he now kissed every year before putting up, in honor of her and all the Christmas parties he would throw in her honor.
"I know."