Lost - Sawyer and Kate
Word Count: 924 - my Sawyer brain is a little rusty - so short chapter
Rating: R - for violence and language
Disclaimer: Characters ain’t mine, setting isn’t mine yada yada yada
Prompts: 50_darkfics 11 Weapon 8/50, fic_variations Work 1/5, deviant_muses picture #2
Posted to _we_are_lost, lost_fanfic, lost_roundrobin, and fanficbylee
Chapters - 1, 2, 3 4
“What the fuck is that thing?” he panted as they clutched each other in the canopy. He could feel her heart beating in sync with his while they fought to catch their breath and stay quiet all at the same time. The tree shook, nearly knocking them from their perch. The twining roots snapping where they were too thin to withstand the force of the thing’s blows. Sawyer pulled out his 9mm although he knew damned well that it would never stop the thing. He aimed at where he thought he saw something move, and the tree was rocked again. He and Kate watched helplessly as the gun bounced down the tree’s trunk into the underbrush where they’d have to work damned hard to find it again if they ever did. “Shit!”
Kate grabbed Sawyer around the waist before he could do something stupid like trying to dive after the gun just as the tree was rocked one more time, and then everything went quiet. All they could hear was their own ragged breathing and the sounds of the jungle slowly returning. “I think it’s gone,” she said still holding him. His heart was beating so hard that she thought she could see it thumping through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.
“You sure?” Sawyer swallowed a mouthful of fear, and reached inside to find the surly, cocky, son of a bitch who wouldn’t be shaking like a little kid in front of a woman. “Should have let me get the gun. Or should have let me use yours. Why didn’t you shoot it?”
“I don’t think it’d do any good, that’s why.” She let him go, narrowing her green eyes at him. “And I was trying to keep you from doing something incredibly stupid.”
“Like what? Did you think I was goin’ to try to slug it or something?”
“I never know with you Sawyer. You’re like a loose cannon. I think you’ve got a death wish, but that lizard brain of yours won’t let you die so you keep on fighting.” He wanted to tell her to shut up. He hated that she could read him like graffiti in a bathroom stall. Instead he just started climbing down, searching the ground for the precious gun. “I’ll go back, get our packs. Don’t do anything,” she paused leaving out – stupid. “While I’m gone.”
“Don’t you worry ‘bout me none,” he hissed as he scraped his shin on a sharp lava rock embedded between the twisted banyan’s root stalks. “I’ll just stay here plannin’ on my next death defyin’ entertainment for your pleasure. ‘Cause you know, Freckles, it’s all about me makin’ your day.”
Kate could feel the anger simmering beneath the surface as she retraced their hurried path through the jungle back to where they’d dropped their packs while running for their lives. The man made her want to kill him. He made her want to do a whole lot more than that too, and that just made her want to kill him more. “If he makes you so mad,” she asked herself as she picked up a discarded plastic water bottle with the Oceanic Airlines label nearly worn off from constant refilling.
“Why do you take his shit? You’d be doing the entire camp a favor if you left him out here.” She knew she couldn’t do it. He was like a stray dog, who’d been beaten one to many times. He’d approach slowly, wag his tail a few times for a scrap of moldy bread, and then bite your hand if you tried to pet him. She knew what that felt like. Sawyer had said they were two of a kind, and she knew it was true. No matter how hard she tried to pretend that she was getting a new chance to start her life over here on the island, a life that included a place of respect in their tiny community, it didn’t change that she’d killed her own father. She felt a kindred spirit with Sawyer that she just didn’t feel with Jack no matter how hard she wished she did.
When she got back, a pack over each of her arms, she found Sawyer resting back against the banyan picking dirt and gravel out of the gun’s innards. “I found it all.” She tossed him the bottle of water, so he could have a drink. He was dirty from climbing under the tree, and there were some deep bleeding scratches running up his left arm. “You’re hurt.”
“Ain’t nothing,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve had lot worse. It just fell where I had to fight to get to it. But it ain’t all I found in there.” He smiled up at her with a sly smile.
“What else did you find?” she felt a grin mirroring his spread across her face.
“Just this,” he tossed her something small and shiny that she snatched out of the air. It was a gold coin. “That’s an genu-wine British Sovereign gold piece darlin’. It’s damn old too. Guess this means there is a treasure to be had.”
“I still don’t know the point of this treasure hunt,” she settled down across from him, nearly close enough to touch, but not quite. “We don’t need money here.”
“We won’t be here forever. Someday someone’s goin’ to find us,” he took a deep breath and drew up one long leg to rest his hand across his knee. “We ain’t goin’ to be on this island for the rest of our lives.”