LostFanFiction

I lover this onein_love

Jack/Sawyer

"Every time I come to the beach, you're sleeping," Jack said, having woken him moments before. "Why?"

"It's called a siesta," Sawyer replied. "You wake me up just to ask me why I'm sleepin'?"

Jack ignored the question, shaking a small pad of paper in his hand. "I'm compiling medical histories for everybody on the island." Sawyer must have looked doubtful, because Jack explained, "A couple of days ago, somebody had a seizure. Epileptic. Cut his meds way back, trying to make them last longer. Nobody knew."

"Heard about that," Sawyer said, looking at the doc, feeling a little anxious. He wanted to ask if the guy was okay, but he couldn't, and Jack didn't offer the information.

He fluttered the notebook pages again. They were slightly wavy, either from being in the water or from the moisture in the air. "Let's start with date of birth."

Sawyer hesitated, considering, then surrendered the date. He added, "What about you?"

"What about me?" Jack shot back.

"Who's gonna know this stuff about you? Maybe you shouldn't be so secretive all the time, you ever think about that?"

"Nothing's going to happen to me," Jack said, and Sawyer knew he wasn't going to win this one. Jack continued, business-like. "What about the STD?" Sawyer sneered. "It's nothing to be ashamed of," Jack said, and neither of them believed him. ****ing doctor, Sawyer thought, thought he was so pure and clean and innocent and thought Sawyer was so lowdown and dirty. "Something like 25% of adults have herpes. That's one in four."

"Statistics are so comforting, ain't they?" Sawyer said. Jack trying to make him feel better just made him want to punch him more. "It's taken care of," he muttered softly.

Jack made a note. "Have you been tested for HIV?"

"Enough of this," Sawyer said, his voice low and careful, because he was getting angry now.

"Sawyer --" Jack sounded frustrated. It took the edge off Sawyer's rage.

"Next question," he ordered.

"Any illnesses that run in your family?" Jack asked, and Sawyer shook his head. "What did your grandparents die of?" Sawyer shrugged. Did people actually know this stuff? "What about your parents, any--?"

"Dead."

"Sorry," Jack said, softly. Unexpectedly. Sawyer scowled harder, afraid his face might give something away. "Was it illness…?"

"Murder. Suicide." He carefully separated the words with a pause, and watched Jack's eyes flood with tears, just for a second before he blinked them away again. He'd noticed that happened a lot, the doc tearing up over things that had nothing to do with him. Usually it made Sawyer sneer, but now it made him feel strange inside. He didn't cry about it, so Jack shouldn't.

"Anybody else in your family ever commit suicide?" Jack asked gently. Sawyer stared. Jack shifted slightly, leaning in closer. "Your thoughts ever run that way?" Jack asked. Sawyer moved his jaw, blinked, couldn't answer. "Ever been treated for it?"

"No." He ran his tongue over his lips. "We almost done here?" He wasn't sure he could take much more.

Jack nodded, glanced over the notes he'd compiled. "That's all I've got, except for one thing." Sawyer waited. "The naps."

"Siesta," Sawyer repeated stubbornly. "You might wanna suggest it to some of those sunburned idiots running around the beach in the heat of the day."

"I don't buy it," Jack said, crossing his arms as he studied Sawyer.

"I'm from the south, jackass," Sawyer shot back. Jack's forehead wrinkled as he waited for the real answer. Guy was a walking lie detector. "I'm tired." Sawyer shrugged and he toyed with one of the buttons on his shirt that he hadn't bothered to do up. "Can't sleep."

"It's a common reaction to stress," Jack said. "There are things we can try --"

"I'm fine," Sawyer cried, then wished he hadn't, because it alerted Jack to the fact that he wasn't fine.

"It's chronic, then?" Jack asked. "It started before the crash?" Sawyer rubbed his eyes, knowing Jack would take his silence as a yes. "When?"

"Forever," Sawyer said, though he knew exactly when it began.

"What do you do, to deal with it?" Jack asked.

Sawyer's eyes widened, exasperated. "I take naps," he pointed out. Then, as he glared at the doctor, he saw something he'd never noticed before. Exhaustion. "You can't sleep either, can you?"

"We're not talking about me," Jack said.

"Can't take it when the shoe's on the other foot, can ya?" Sawyer asked, enjoying it. But he relented, adding amiably, "You get used to it."

Jack let out a sigh. "Yeah."

"Maybe you oughta consider taking a nap," Sawyer suggested, and Jack laughed. There was something infectious in the sound that made Sawyer smile. He just couldn't help it. "Yeah," he said. "Guy like you, bet you never took a nap in your life. Probably don't even know how."

Jack rubbed the back of his neck, self-conscious. "You're not wrong."

"You want a lesson? What'll you give me for it?" he asked, and Jack broke into gales of laughter. Sawyer never would have believed it if he hadn't heard it himself. He should have been mad but he found himself grinning instead.

Jack had to wipe his eyes and take a deep breath to recover. "I can't," he said, seriously. "There's too many people depending on me."

"You can't even take an hour?" Sawyer challenged, and Jack shook his head. "What do you think is gonna happen?" Jack was still shaking his head stubbornly. "They'd wake you up, Jack," he pointed out. No dice. "You're missing out. A nap's just about the best thing in the whole goddamn world."

"I'll think about it," Jack allowed.

"You do that," Sawyer said. He figured they were done, and he was right. As he pulled an open magazine into his lap, Jack ruffled the pages of his notebook one last time, then left his tent.

…

He just happened to be in the neighborhood of Jack's cave when the sun was at its peak the next day. It was quiet. No one else was around. He watched for a few minutes. Jack was doing some kind of inventory of supplies. "Sure is crazy around here," Sawyer said, and it made Jack jump. "Don't know how you handle it all."

"Sawyer," Jack said, glaring at Sawyer for having startled him. "Did you want something?"

Sawyer shook the water bottle in his hand. "Was in the neighborhood."

"And you just thought you'd drop by," Jack filled in sarcastically. Sawyer nodded. It'd be a shame if he pulled this off, Sawyer thought, because he liked the doc when he was being sarcastic. Made him seem more human somehow. Maybe it was just what Sawyer was used to.

"Know what one of the signs of sleep deprivation is?" Sawyer said. "Irritability."

"Shut up, Sawyer," Jack said, and Sawyer spread his hands out to say 'see?' To his surprise, Jack broke, right there in front of his eyes. A tremor went through him and he put his head down. He recovered in a second, with a shake of his head, but that moment of raw vulnerability scared Sawyer.

"Hey," Sawyer said softly. Sitting next to Jack, he lay a light hand on his back. Jack went stiff under his touch. "It's okay."

Jack shook his head. "Go away, Sawyer," he ordered.

"If I do, will you get some sleep?" Sawyer asked.

"I can't ****ing sleep! What do you want from me?" He sounded so desperate.

"You're scared," Sawyer said.

"Why are you doing this?" Jack talked over his words.

Sawyer didn't answer at first. Then he said, "I know." He'd been there. A thousand times, at least. Feeling like someone or something was going to creep up behind him. A loud noise would startle him, or hands would grab him, or something else bad would happen if he let his guard down. Sawyer knew. "I'll keep a lookout," he offered.

"I don't need a babysitter," Jack snarled, and that amused Sawyer for some reason.

"Here's how you take a nap," Sawyer said, his voice low and soothing. "You stretch out, preferably somewhere that's not your bed. A couch is perfect, but you'll just have to make do. You let yourself feel it, the weariness, and you tell yourself it's okay if you don't actually go to sleep. You're just gonna close your eyes for a minute. When you do it's dark but not too dark, not like nighttime. You feel yourself relax, like you never can at night, and before you know it, it just comes."

Jack did what he was told. Sawyer could hardly believe it. Jack must be really tired, to give in so easily. He curled up near Sawyer's feet, with one arm stretched out under his head. Sawyer found himself staring at the skin inside his arm, creamy white except where it was decorated with tattoos Sawyer wanted a closer look at. "You could talk anyone into anything," Jack murmured, and Sawyer knew it was working.

Another minute passed before Jack's breathing slowed and the tension in his hand let go. He snuffled softly, and Sawyer had the strange, disconnected notion to cover him with a blanket, even though it was ninety degrees. Sawyer felt sad, not just for Jack and the fact that he had to be taught this, but for himself because as far as he knew no one ever kept watch over him while he slept to make him feel safe. Sawyer hitched up one knee and wrapped an arm around it, settling in for the wait.

continued

A couple of hours went by before Jack opened his eyes. He burst awake the same way Sawyer always did, in the grasp of a dream, his eyes wide open and seeking. Then he hung his head, realizing he was awake, and managed a breath. Sawyer watched him wipe his mouth and figured this was as good a time as any to say, "You talk in your sleep."

Jack's eyes focused on him, dark and still defenseless from sleep. "I know," he admitted, with a touch of embarrassment. Half a smile appeared. "Say anything interesting?"

"Nah," said Sawyer, shaking his head. "How do you feel?"

"Good," said Jack. "I feel good."

Sawyer considered this and nodded. He eased from his sitting position, stiff from being still for so long. He slipped from the cave without a word, and Jack let him go.

…

The next time, Jack came to him. It was the middle of the night. The stars overhead had faded, and Sawyer knew from experience that it wouldn't be long before the first pale streaks of dawn appeared in the sky and survivors began to stir. It was the loneliest time of the night.

He drew a long stick of wood into his hand, ready to defend himself, before he realized it was Jack. He set it aside carefully as Jack climbed into his shelter and sat down in the sand, crossing his legs in front of him and then bracing his arms over them. His eyes were pink around the rims and he looked miserable. "What do you do all night?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.

"At some point you have to give up on sleeping and get up. Keep trying and you'll drive yourself crazy," Sawyer said. He glanced at Jack. "Looks like you figured that out."

"I never knew the night was this long," Jack said.

He was real bad off, Sawyer could see that plainly. "You just gotta take your mind off it," he told him. "It's easier if there's TV." Jack didn't even chuckle. Bad sign. "You want a book?" Sawyer asked.

"I can't concentrate," Jack admitted.

Sawyer nodded. He knew that one. "You've probably been layin' awake, thinking about all the things you ever done and all the things you gotta do and made yourself half crazy." Jack shuddered and looked away and Sawyer knew he was right. "Now you have to do something to take your mind off of all of it."

"Like what." Jack's voice was flat.

"One thing comes to mind, if you know what I mean." Sawyer made the appropriate crude gesture and watched Jack cringe. "Yeah, don't always work. In which case, there's always cards." He swept the pack from under the corner of the cushion closest to him and started to shuffle.

They played gin rummy without speaking, hand after hand, until the sun came up and afterward. It was high in the sky when Jack finally dragged himself out of Sawyer's tent, headed back to the caves. Sawyer yawned and stretched, then tucked the cards back into their box. Just about the perfect time for a nap, Sawyer thought, and hoped Jack was thinking the same thing.

…

Jack came to Sawyer's shelter in the middle of another night, one that was restless for more than just the two of them. His eyes were deep bruises in the white of his exhausted face and the smell of blood and death clung to him. Sawyer wished he could say something that would make it all better, but even his fanciest words would only deepen the wounds. "I brought you something," Jack said.

He held out a ragged sheaf of pages with a trembling hand. Sawyer's gaze lingered on Jack's face until the doctor shook the pages and Sawyer grudgingly took them. "What is it?" he asked, not looking. Jack exhaled, like he meant to answer, but no words came out.

After a glance down, Sawyer's head bobbed back up. "Why give this to me?"

"Someone needs to know," Jack said. "Just in case."

"What are you planning to do?" Sawyer felt his muscles tense. He'd knock Jack out to protect him if he had to, or run after him.

Jack wagged his head, back and forth, not about to tell. Then he raised his eyes toward the sky and Sawyer knew he was looking for heaven or God or some sign that life and death followed some greater plan. Sawyer had looked himself, from time to time. He hoped Jack would see something he never had. Poor guy deserved it.

He choked, or so Sawyer thought until he looked closer and saw the tears burning trails down his cheeks. "Jack," Sawyer said, a plea. Don't do this, don't cry, it'll be all right. Words he didn't believe and couldn't say.

Hearing his name seemed to be enough to pull him back into himself, behind whatever protective walls he had. "Leave me alone," Jack ordered. He staggered to his feet and Sawyer put a hand out, to catch him should he fall.

"If you count your breaths," Sawyer suggested hesitantly. "Deep ones. You'll drift off."

Jack turned his head and Sawyer could feel the fire when those dark eyes locked onto his. "I'm never sleeping again," Jack swore, and he lurched away.

Sawyer thought to go after him, but after a second he still hadn't moved. He looked down at the pages in his hand, still not quite sure why Jack had entrusted this information to him. It was everything he'd compiled, copied out in a painstaking hand. Weren't doctors supposed to write messy? Sawyer flicked through the pages to see what Jack had written about him, but he stopped when he got to a sheet stained with one startling copper drop. "Jack Christian Shepherd," it said at the top, like some kind of school assignment, with details filled in below. Personal details.

Sawyer read eagerly, his mind drifting from alcohol and cigarettes to childhood illnesses and identifying marks. And the man who disdained any outward sign of pity quietly thought, poor Jack.

Then he shoved the pages into the suitcase pocket where he kept the manifest and hoped like hell he'd never have cause to look at them again.

…

Jack didn't manage to go off and get himself killed that time, to Sawyer's intense relief. Maybe to his credit, too, since he was the one who slipped the sleeping pills to Kate and refused to take anything in return as long as she swore she'd get the doc to sleep, whatever it took. That one had been hard to play, but she was distracted enough by worry and grief not to wonder why Sawyer was doing something that could be construed as selfless, or at least helpful.

He missed him. Jack hadn't come back to Sawyer after that night. He knew Jack still wasn't sleeping, but everything else had changed. A stubborn resolve had replaced any trace of gentleness in the set Jack's mouth and he wore his fatigue with pride. When they chanced upon each other, Jack's eyes would slide guiltily away from Sawyer's, making Sawyer wonder if he regretted their temporary closeness or giving him the pages. He figured he'd never know.

He missed him all the same.

i will read this ..😱

uhuh better.tis a really good story of jack and sawyer and i have more to post if anyones willing to read em. and im in love with your siggy nowin_lovethat avvy is from motorcycle diaries i think..?

yup 😊

that was a pretty good fanfic cF 😊

did u say something about having anymore?

lots more, but dont think itd be appropriate posting it here since some are..NC-17😖hifty:buts who can resist not reading it of jack/sawyer, ....whose kate again😑

my thoughts exactly 😂

hee,heres more..

by:dreamalittledream

The smell was sickening. Sawyer kept his mouth tightly sealed and tried to hold his breath, but he could taste the rotting tang on his tongue anyway. And there were flies everywhere, like the stench wasn't bad enough. "Jesus Christ..." Sawyer hissed, biting his teeth together. He reached out with his hand and pushed it under the dead man's jacket.

With the humid air and the constant heat, it didn't take long for the bodies to start to decompose. As Sawyer explored the rotting man's middle area, he could feel something give way. It almost made him pull back, but his craving for nicotine was too great. Sawyer had accepted the fact that rescue wasn't coming any time soon, so he knew he would run out of smokes eventually. Unpleasant detox would be inevitable, but hell if Sawyer wasn't gonna try and delay it. He kept on looking, and this time his search hadn't been in vain. Sawyer's fingers felt the unmistakable shape of a cigarette pack. He pulled it out from the man's shirt pocket, and got away from the body, not stopping until he smelled fresh air again.

The pack wasn't full, but Sawyer didn't mind. It was a small treasure anyway. Lighting up a smoke, he glanced back at the pile of wreckage. There was still another body he planned to check out, but Sawyer decided he needed a break first. He sat down on a big tree root that was sticking out from the ground.

It was the hottest time of the day, and the air was so humid that every piece of clothing you wore got stuck on your skin. The blazing heat made smoking somewhat nauseating, but every cell in Sawyer's body was crying out for nicotine. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes and leaned against his knees.

The ever continueing chirrup of birds and insects was suddenly broken by another sound. Sawyer's eyes shot open as he heard something snap nearby. Looking around, he tried to figure out where the sound had come from. More branches and sticks were broken, and Sawyer could tell someone or something was moving his way.

"Anyone there?" Sawyer called out, getting up to his feet. His eyes searched the jungle around him but saw no movement.

"Boo."

Sawyer winced and spun around. When he saw Jack, standing a few feet away from him, the wave of relief he felt was quickly replaced by irritation. "You enjoy sneakin' around and scaring people to death, Doc?" he snarled, sitting back down on the tree root.

"You can call this a payback for scaring me in the fuselage, Sawyer." Jack smiled and took off his backpack to get out a bottle of water.

Sawyer watched Jack with narrowed eyes, the corners of his mouth slowly turning up. "Fair enough," he nodded, lighting up another cigarette.

Jack unscrewed the bottle of water, pouring some of its contents on himself before drinking it. "You should be glad it was just me who caught you by surprise," Jack said. "It's not actually safe to venture this deep into the jungle."

"You worried about my safety?" Sawyer smirked. "Well, gee, Doc. I'm flattered."

Jack sighed, but gave Sawyer a little smile. "I didn't say that," he said, shaking his head. "I just meant that there's something in this jungle that kills people."

"The monster? Yeah, so I've heard," Sawyer said, smiling, his tone of voice lacking any signs of worry. "Now, I thought monsters live under your bed," he sneered. "And anyway, I don't believe in monsters."

"You didn't see what happened to the pilot..." Jack said in a low voice, his smile fading away. Seeing the expression Jack wore on his face made Sawyer turn grave as well. There was suddenly an awkward silence between them. Sawyer concentrated on his cigarette as Jack put away the water bottle.

"Smoking can cause an untimely death, you know?" Jack said, unable to think of a better way to break the silence.

"It sure can," Sawyer agreed, his voice filled with amusement. He turned to look at the body he'd gotten the cigarettes from, knowing Jack would follow his gaze. Sawyer smiled in satisfaction as he heard the other man sigh audibly.

"So, you got them off one of the bodies." There was a distinct streak of disapproval in Jack's voice.

"Yup."

The irritating grin on Sawyer's face was usually enough to drive Jack up the wall, but this time he controlled his anger. "You're low, Sawyer," was all he said.

"Aww, come on," Sawyer exclaimed exaggeratedly, throwing his hands in the air. "It's just a pack of smokes. And John Doe there ain't gonna miss 'em! He's a stiff."

"And that gives you the right to go through his pockets and take the man's possessions?" Jack inquired, sounding stern.

Sawyer rolled his eyes and got up from the tree root. "I'm startin' to feel like a broken record here, but I repeat: it's just a pack of smokes," he said, emphasizing the last words.

Jack glared at Sawyer and threw his bag over his shoulder. "Whatever, Sawyer." He turned around and began to walk away. "I'm heading back. Feel free to continue the looting."

"Hey, it's not like I'm the only one who's doin' it," Sawyer pointed out, following Jack. "You can tell me otherwise, but that would just make you a hypocrite, now wouldn' it?" Much to Sawyer's annoyance, Jack didn't stop but kept on walking. "Yeah, you just wanna run away, 'cause you know I'm right and you can't stand hearin' the truth."

Finally Jack stopped and turned to face Sawyer. "And what truth is that?"

Sawyer came to stand before Jack and met his eyes. "Well, we're pretty deep in the jungle, Doc," he said, motioning with his hand, telling Jack to look around. "Could it be that Saint Jack is on a one-man expedition to find some salvage?" Sawyer wondered aloud. "Or are you tellin' me you're taking a stroll in the bush just for the heck of it?" he finished. The look on Jack's face told Sawyer he'd been right.

Jack bit his lower lip, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Sawyer was right, of course. Jack was this deep in the jungle for the possible salvage. And he had definitely gone through dead bodies in his search for medicine and other useful things. Jack felt a little jab from his conscience for reprimanding Sawyer.

"Looks like I was right," Sawyer said with a selfsatisfied smile on his lips. "We ain't that different, you and me."

"Hey! What you said about the salvage might be true," Jack said, his voice taking a defensive tone. "But whatever I find, at least I share it with the others. Everything you find, you keep to yourself, Sawyer."

Jack saw the expression on Sawyer's face grow dark. "We're stranded on an island and so far you're the only one who's running a business here."

"Yeah, well, we all have our ways of survivin'," Sawyer said in a low voice, turning his eyes away from Jack.

"You call it surviving?" Jack asked, exaggerating the disbelief in his voice. "We're all trying to survive here, Sawyer. What you're doing is just making it harder for the rest of us."

"Exactly. There's me and then there's the rest of you," Sawyer exclaimed, causing Jack to lean back. "Are you tellin' me that any of you would even talk to me if I didn' have something you wanted?"

Jack was taken aback by the look in Sawyer's eyes. He was aware that their usual bickering suddenly had a dark tone, and that it was turning into a possible fight.

"I can't patch people up like you can, I can't catch fish with my bare hands like the Korean fellow, and I know even less about huntin' than the fat guy does," Sawyer ranted. "So, yeah, trading stuff is my way of surviving. As if anyone would give me something from the sheer goodness of their heart."

"Hey, you've been acting like a jerk since day one, so don't tell me you aren't responsible for the way people treat you," Jack said, his voice empty of compassion. "You're an outcast by your own choice, Sawyer."

"You don't know anything about me, Jack," Sawyer said through gritted teeth, scowling at Jack. "So, shut up."

Jack ignored the death-glare he was receiving from the other man. "Yeah, I do. I know you're an irritating bastard," he said, not even noticing the sun had been smothered by a mass of black clouds, and that it was suddenly raining hard. The weather seemed to mirror the change in their moods. [1] "I know we'd probably be better off without you, yet I saved your life!" Jack yelled over the sound of pouring water.

"Of course you did! You're the ****in' hero," Sawyer yelled back, motioning with his hands. "Saint Jack saves everyone! You really can't help youself, can you?" He wiped his wet hair from his face. "You should've let go of my arm when I asked you to."

"What? And let you bleed to death? Sawyer--"

"You know what? Not everyone wants to be saved." Sawyer's voice was hoarse from the yelling.

Jack blinked his eyes in bewilderment. The guy was actually blaming Jack for saving his life. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Jack cried out, lashing the air with his arms. "I saved your life, Sawyer. Even after you told me you'd watch me die if the tables were turned!"

"Yeah, well, too bad, 'cause I meant it." Sawyer said in a low voice, looking away.

"No you didn't," Jack said simply, his tone making the statement sound like a desperate question. [2]

"Hey, don't tell me-" Sawyer left the sentence hanging in the air, as he turned around and saw the hurt expression on Jack's face. The anger he'd felt was gone in a second. Feeling utterly confused, Sawyer was searching for words, but nothing came out of his mouth.

After a long silence, Jack finally lifted his face and met Sawyer's eyes. "Did you mean it?" he asked, but it was all Jack had time to say before all hell broke loose around them. It started with a weird screech, resembling a bird or maybe some other animal from the jungle. But there was definitely something odd about it. The sound made them both forget about everything else.

"That a boar?" Sawyer asked, looking around. He jumped as a shrill cry suddenly cut the air. Sawyer had heard it before, but never this close. It sounded like it came from the left, but then the trees started to fall down on his right. "What the-"

Jack knew exactly what was happening. "Sawyer, run! That's no boar!" A tree seemed to explode into the air right behind their backs, and Jack began to run.

Sawyer followed Jack and eventually ran past him. He ran and didn't know where he was going. Away from the havoc, he figured. The thundering sounds were still behind him and it was hard to stay on your feet in the muddy ground. The undergrowth got in his way, but Sawyer forced himself past every branch and lashing stick, ignoring the little cuts they gave him. He was about to slide down a rocky slope when he heard someone call out his name. Sawyer turned to look back and saw no sign of Jack.

Without a moment's hesitation, Sawyer turned around and headed back towards the booming sounds and heavy clattering. When he finally found Jack, Sawyer couldn't stop his legs from running so he made himself fall down. Jack was on his hands and knees in the mud, trying to get up.

"It's my leg. I can't stand," Jack groaned, unable to put any weight on his right ankle. Getting up from the muddy ground, Sawyer twined his arms around Jack's torso and helped him up. The crashes around them were deafening. Sawyer couldn't understand the combination of the sounds he was hearing, and he figured this wasn't the best time to think about it either.

"Come on." Sawyer threw Jack's arm around his shoulder and began to drag them onwards. Jack could hardly walk and they were advancing very slowly. "Shit!" Sawyer wasn't much smaller in build, but he felt his muscles strain as he supported Jack's weight. "We ain't gonna make it like this."

"Over there." Jack pointed out a formation of long trees with vine-like, twisted trunks. Side by side, they formed one massive tree with a hollow space inside. [3]

Sawyer wiped his wet hair from his face to see where they were going. Ignoring the sounds coming from behind them, he followed Jack's advice and squeezed himself past the trunks. Sawyer pulled Jack in with him and allowed him to press against his chest.

Whatever the thing in the jungle was, it was close. The clattering sound was everywhere and suddenly the rooty trunks around them began to shake. They could see something was moving right outside. Sawyer felt his body slide down towards the ground. Jack followed his movement and soon they were sitting on the jungle floor, huddled together. Sawyer was leaning against the trunks, his arms twined around Jack's torso. He could hardly breath with the heavy weight of Jack's body pressing against his chest.

Jack was gripping Sawyer's right knee, his other hand sinking under the muddy leaves. He could feel Sawyer's rapid heartbeat against his back. Sawyer was holding onto him so tightly, Jack was sure he would get fractures in his ribs.

The thing outside was gone as suddenly as it had appeared. They could hear one last shrilling cry before all the booming noises were gone. The only sound left was the slowly ceasing rain. Closing his eyes, Sawyer threw his head back and exhaled in relief.

Jack blinked his eyes, letting go of Sawyer's knee. He listened for any suspicious sounds, but all he could hear was Sawyer's heavy breathing. "You okay?" he asked, swallowing as his words seemed to get stuck in his throat.

"Yeah, you?" Sawyer breathed.

"I think my ankle's twisted." Jack tried to touch his leg with his hand, but Sawyer's firm hold around him was preventing Jack from moving. "Sawyer, you can let go now."

Sawyer blinked his eyes, realizing his arms were still twined around Jack's upper body. He let go, allowing Jack to move away. Clearing his throat, Sawyer ran his fingers through his wet hair. "So, was that it?"

"The thing that killed the pilot? Yeah, that was it," Jack said, touching his already swollen ankle.

"Well, guess I'd better start believin' in monsters then," Sawyer snorted, getting up from the ground.

"Guess so," Jack grinned, inspecting his ankle.

"Come on." Sawyer bent down and helped Jack get up. They stepped outside, Jack leaning against Sawyer for support. It was sunny again, and it almost felt like everything had been just a bad dream.

"Do you have any idea where we are?" Sawyer asked, thinking the trees all looked alike.

"Some." Jack pointed in the direction he thought the beach might be.

"Well, lead the way, Doc." Sawyer began to walk, but stopped as Jack wasn't following. "What?" Sawyer asked, untwining his arm from Jack's waist.

"Thanks, Sawyer," Jack said, meeting Sawyer's eyes. "You came back for me."

Sawyer was about to look away and deny the whole thing, claim he'd done it for some selfish reason. But instead, he gave Jack a meaningful look, accompanied by a lopsided smirk. "Guess that answers your question, Doc."

-end-

loved them both in_love

uhuhin_love

ahh i loved them!

😊

I had a dream with Hurley and Sawyer in it the other night. When, and IF, I get it typed up into a Fan Fic, am I allowed to post it here? It was a really cool dream, but didn't stick to the way Lost is completely. Had a bit of this other show I like mixed in with it. 😄.

🐰
Mana

sure type it up

i started a fanfic last summer, it was like a combo of POTC and LOTR characters with me and all of my friends on an island- right now it's 40 something pages but i stopped writing it because the main character (who was my best friend)... well she committed suicide... but yah... so i didn't really feel like writing it after that...

but i started another with me and my friend kathryn ( we write it in math class) and we're taking over the world with darth vader, boone, turniphead, jack sparrow, dom, billy and ron from HP

yah and we find a couple of our other friends 😱

40 pages! 😱 wow

i know!!

hmph