Lost fic: Ache [J/K/S, PG, 420 words]
Disclaimer: Lost does not belong to me.
Notes: Jealous!Sawyer for Queen isis2015. Using for fanfic100 #32, Sunset, and psych_30 #9, Sociopath. A twist on the season 3 finale.
Summary: Sociopath: n. An individual who is in repeated conflict with society, does not feel guilt, and does not learn from experience. Which one of them is it? J/K/S.
Ache
by eponine119
August 7, 2007
Sawyer has never considered himself to be the jealous type. That doesn't explain what he's doing, following Jack through the darkened streets of LA.
Months had gone by since the last phone call. There had been a flurry of them there, leading Sawyer to decide that next time he was going to find out the truth. It had never entirely left his mind, so when the phone rang in the middle of the night, he kept his eyes closed and his breathing even. He knew if he sat up, Jack would play it off as an emergency hospital call. He'd already tried that.
The moment the door closed firmly behind Jack, Sawyer was up, tugging on his jeans in the dark. And now he was driving three cars back and one over on the 405. He felt his stomach tighten as he recognized the way to the airport, but then Jack's turn signal began to glow and he took the exit at Sunset.
Sawyer hung back. Jack pulled in to a strip mall, the illumination of one plate glass window in contrast to the rest. It was an all-night laundry. Kate was inside.
She looked small and old and tired. Maybe it was the lights that made her skin appear gray and her eyes glassy, but he doubted it. Her hair was wild and tangled. She looked like a broken bird in Jack's arms.
It hurt.
Sawyer tried to trace the source of the pain. Betrayal? Jealousy? Of who, for who? Jack was his now. Did it hurt that Jack went to her, or did it hurt that she called him?
One phone call was all it would take. The tiny phone lay heavy as a gun in his hand. He could call one of them. Watch through the window as the realization dawned. What would he say? It's over? Or I know.
He rubbed his thumb over the keys, still thinking. She was on the run. He could call the police. A sneak attack. Take her out of the picture, ruin them both. It would feel so good.
Sawyer closes his eyes and breathes deep as he presses the buttons slowly. A click, and a recording. He opens his eyes. Looks at the two of them, like a silent movie burning into his brain. Turns the phone off and tosses it into the passenger seat.
He turns the key and the car starts with a quiet hum. No damage done. They still don't know.
But he does, and it aches.
End.
Notes: Jealous!Sawyer for Queen isis2015. Using for fanfic100 #32, Sunset, and psych_30 #9, Sociopath. A twist on the season 3 finale.
Summary: Sociopath: n. An individual who is in repeated conflict with society, does not feel guilt, and does not learn from experience. Which one of them is it? J/K/S.
Ache
by eponine119
August 7, 2007
Sawyer has never considered himself to be the jealous type. That doesn't explain what he's doing, following Jack through the darkened streets of LA.
Months had gone by since the last phone call. There had been a flurry of them there, leading Sawyer to decide that next time he was going to find out the truth. It had never entirely left his mind, so when the phone rang in the middle of the night, he kept his eyes closed and his breathing even. He knew if he sat up, Jack would play it off as an emergency hospital call. He'd already tried that.
The moment the door closed firmly behind Jack, Sawyer was up, tugging on his jeans in the dark. And now he was driving three cars back and one over on the 405. He felt his stomach tighten as he recognized the way to the airport, but then Jack's turn signal began to glow and he took the exit at Sunset.
Sawyer hung back. Jack pulled in to a strip mall, the illumination of one plate glass window in contrast to the rest. It was an all-night laundry. Kate was inside.
She looked small and old and tired. Maybe it was the lights that made her skin appear gray and her eyes glassy, but he doubted it. Her hair was wild and tangled. She looked like a broken bird in Jack's arms.
It hurt.
Sawyer tried to trace the source of the pain. Betrayal? Jealousy? Of who, for who? Jack was his now. Did it hurt that Jack went to her, or did it hurt that she called him?
One phone call was all it would take. The tiny phone lay heavy as a gun in his hand. He could call one of them. Watch through the window as the realization dawned. What would he say? It's over? Or I know.
He rubbed his thumb over the keys, still thinking. She was on the run. He could call the police. A sneak attack. Take her out of the picture, ruin them both. It would feel so good.
Sawyer closes his eyes and breathes deep as he presses the buttons slowly. A click, and a recording. He opens his eyes. Looks at the two of them, like a silent movie burning into his brain. Turns the phone off and tosses it into the passenger seat.
He turns the key and the car starts with a quiet hum. No damage done. They still don't know.
But he does, and it aches.
End.