Fic: Fallout - Part Six (Jack/Sawyer)
Title: Fallout - Part Six
Rating: PG-13
Summary: There are a thousand things he needs to be thinking about, worrying about, plans that he needs to be making. And he can’t make them around Jack and that girl and all of the shit she’s managed to stir up in the two whole minutes she’s been here.
Disclaimer: I do not own Lost. At all. I wish but alas...
Author's Note: This is the next part of my continuing Jack/Sawyer, post-apocalyptic AU saga. :) Over all, this is a Jack/Sawyer story, but you’re going to have to bear with me because it’s going to take a little while to get there. Things are, however, finally going places. ;)
Previous Parts: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five
Sawyer leaves Jack, Sayid, and the new girl - Kate - to sort themselves out. The people assembled in the lobby seem to go back to business as usual, but they regard Kate with the same distrusting glances they had been giving Jack for the past couple of days. For now, is seems, the tension has died down, the panic minimalized. Sawyer has to organize his thoughts, to think about what he’s going to do and say tomorrow when he has to stand up in front of people and convince them to load up and march into enemy territory to save someone they don’t even know.
And he certainly can’t think about any of that while he’s watching Jack like a hawk from across the room and seething every time the girl touches him.
He feels like such a asshole, because it isn’t like anything has happened with Jack. One almost-kind-of-kiss doesn’t justify anything that he’s feeling. But it’s there. Frustration. Resentment. Jealousy. The girl is a friend, that’s what Jack said, but it’s clear from the way she looks at him - like she lives, like she breathes for his approval - and the way she touches him - like she wants him to touch her back - that she wishes there was something more.
It clouds Sawyer’s mind to the point where he isn’t even thinking anymore, just staring like an insane stalker and grinding his teeth. There are a thousand things he needs to be thinking about, worrying about, plans that he needs to be making. And he can’t make them around Jack and that girl and all of the shit she’s managed to stir up in the two whole minutes she’s been here.
So, he leaves. Passes the three of them gathered at the foot of the stairs, and his bad mood must be radiating off of him in waves because people adjacent turn and notice. Sawyer is halfway up the stairs within a few seconds and doesn’t notice Jack watching him all the way.
*
“Jack?” Kate asks.
Jack turns, startled, and shakes his head. He can’t be thinking about Sawyer right now - not about what had almost happened in his room, not about his suspicions about Jack’s relationship with Kate, and certainly not about the fact that he had almost stormed out of the room not thirty seconds ago. He could think about - and would think about - all of that later.
But right now, he’s too angry with Kate to think about much of anything else. When he turns to face her, his expression obviously reflects that because she looks away, looks down, and sighs.
Jack knows Kate, knows her as if she is his sister, and even though she looks guilty, he knows she doesn’t feel guilty. He knows she stubbornly believes that she has done the right thing by following Jack, that he was wrong to insist that she stay behind in the first place. But she has always shrunk away from his judgment, tried to make him feel guilty for being angry with her.
In the past, it has worked. But not now. And especially not since her presence has stirred up more tension that Jack could ever have imagined.
“I’m sorry,” she says, with a small shrug. Jack shakes his head.
“No you’re not,” he replies, as if he’s asking why she’s even bothering to lie. She sighs and looks down again. Jack keeps his eyes hard and angry. He wishes he were happy to see her, but he isn’t. She was safer where she was, and now…now he has to worry about himself, and Claire, and Sawyer, and Sayid, and Kate.
“Why did you come, Kate?” Sayid asks, with less judgment than Jack knows he’s capable of at the moment. One thing is for sure, Jack can always count on Sayid to remain level-headed, despite whatever he happens to be feeling. Jack has never been very good at that.
“I couldn’t sit at home,” she replies, as if she’s appealing to Sayid - to them both. “I just…couldn’t.” It isn’t much of a reason, and if the look that Sayid sends Jack is any indication, he seems to agree. But all either of them really do is shake their heads. Because there’s nothing they can do now. Kate is here. And they aren’t going to force her back. Christian wouldn’t take her in again if they did. Once you leave, you leave for good. They all knew that. It was safe on the surface, that they knew now. But Christian used people’s fears to rule them. There was no way he would give that up without a fight.
So, Kate is there to stay. Whether Jack likes it or not.
“Is anybody else coming?” he asks, hoping, praying, that the answer is know. On top of everything else, he doesn’t need any more surprises.
Kate turns to face him and shakes her head. “No,” she answers. “Just me.”
“Good,” Jack says, with a nod. “There’s a meeting tomorrow. Sawyer promised to help me find Claire. We’re going to start planning tomorrow and go from there.” Kate nods along, though Jack can tell from the look on her face that his detached tone of voice is setting her off balance. It isn’t something that she’s used to. Jack never stays angry long. Until now, he hasn’t had the proper motivation to.
But what Sawyer had said to Jack lingers in the back of his mind. He can’t let go of his frustration with Kate. It isn’t fair, but it keeps Jack irritated and on edge. It keeps him at arms length from Kate even though he still considers her to be one of his best friends.
“Sayid can help you find a room, let you know when dinner is,” Jack goes on. He sees Sayid send him a look - puzzlement, it seems - but Kate doesn’t see it because her eyes are on Jack, putting Sayid behind her. Jack stands on the bottom stair of the staircase, wishing he could run up and fix things with Sawyer now, this second.
“Jack…” Kate says, but stops. Jack waits. “I made a mistake.”
“Yeah,” Jack agrees, turning around and leaving her there with Sayid. He doesn’t have time to feel guilty. He doesn’t think he would if he did. Kate has a long history of leaping before she looks, and Jack is tired of making excuses for that. His anger will fade, and, eventually, disappear. But now, it’s a roaring fire in the center of his chest, and it propels him forward, to Sawyer’s door, where he can only knock, wait, and hope things haven’t been damaged beyond repair.
Jack doesn’t know what it is that’s between them, but he knows that there’s something. He knows that he’d almost kissed Sawyer not twenty minutes ago. Sawyer had almost kissed him back. He doesn’t know what to make of that, or what he’s going to say when Sawyer opens the door. But he knows that he has to try.
*
“We keep meetin’ like this,” Sawyer says, after he opens the door. How many conversations of theirs have begun with Jack coming to his door, now? Jack just nods and shuffles his feet. Sawyer can’t overpower the part of him that is petty, and asks, “How’s the girl?”
He’s well aware that he sounds as jealous as he feels, but given that they’d almost been making out on the back of Sawyer’s couch before all hell had broken loose, he figures it’s probably time to lay all of his cards on the table and see what Jack’s hand is.
“Do you want to talk about this in the hallway, or can I come inside?” Jack asks, because Sawyer is physically blocking his way. He’s isn’t sure if Sawyer is angry with him, or if he’s just angry. Sawyer sighs and steps aside, though, letting Jack pass and shutting the door behind them both.
Jack stands with his back to Sawyer for a few moments, trying to think of something do say. When he turns around, he still isn’t sure, but he knows he has to say something. “Look, Sawyer…”
He doesn’t, however, have the chance to get very far, because, in the time that Jack had been thinking of something intelligent to say, Sawyer had been crossing the room, until he was a mere foot away from Jack, reaching out and grabbing hold of the back of his neck with one hand. The second before Sawyer kisses him, all manner of absurd thoughts begin bouncing around in his head (Sawyer has big hands) but they are all blown away in the next second.
Jack feels frozen in place for the longest time, but that doesn’t seem to deter Sawyer, who just keeps kissing him until Jack decides to return the favor. Which he does, once he finally has his wits about him. He reaches behind Sawyer and grabs a hold of his shirt, because he has to grab a hold of something, has to steady himself so his feet don’t fall out from under him, because damned if Sawyer isn’t a great kisser.
Jack expects reality - and all manner of important questions - to smack him upside the head the second that they pull away from each other. But those thoughts don’t come. Sawyer, Sawyer, Sawyer. It’s all he can think, as he stares at every little thing about the man - his hair, his eyes, his lips - and Sawyer stares right on back.
“Just thought I’d put that out there,” Sawyer says, with a shrug, and if he thinks that there’s even the slightest chance Jack would reject him after that, he has another thing coming. Jack just smiles and grabs the front of Sawyer’s shirt, pulls him right back in, and marvels at the fact that he doesn’t have to adjust for much of a height difference. If Sawyer is shorter than him, it’s only by an inch or less. It’s actually kind of nice.
Somehow, in the chaos, in the swirling mess that the last week have made of his life, Jack has been able to find something nice. It’s nothing less, he thinks, than a miracle.
*
“What about Kate?” Sawyer asks. They’re both tired, spent, and faint of breath, lying in the middle of Sawyer’s bed. Jack’s left leg is between both of Sawyer’s and they’ve spend pretty much the last twenty minutes kissing. The list of things they should be doing, thinking about, is as long as Sawyer’s arm, but he doesn’t care. He has Jack now, and he means to hold onto him tightly until reality comes crashing back down on them like a ton of bricks. Sawyer’s question is the beginning of that, because he has to grip Jack’s arms to stop him from pulling away.
“Sawyer, I already told you-”
“No, that ain’t what I meant,” Sawyer assures. He’s long since let go of the idea that there’s anything going on between Jack and Kate - even though there is a lingering doubt in the back of his mind that he can’t deny. “I mean now that she’s here, you gonna keep trying to get her to stay behind?”
Jack shakes his head and sighs. “I guess not,” he answers. “Not if she’s just going to follow me anyway.”
“You’re still pissed at her, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Jack answers. He doesn’t know why he’s holding onto it, why he can’t just let it go. But he also knows that he will, with time. Kate would like him to forgive and forget the instant after he’s wronged, but Jack doesn’t have that in him. Kate will just have to wait, to be patient. “But not for the reason that you think.” He adds the last part under his breath, but Sawyer’s brow furrows in confusion and Jack knows he’s going to ask what he’s talking about. “I didn’t…you thought there was something between her and I and I thought she’d ruined things. You know…between us.”
Sawyer smirks like he’s very proud of himself. “Up until twenty minutes ago there wasn’t really an us.”
Jack just smiles back, shyly, and ducks his head a bit. He picks a loose thread on Sawyer’s comforter and shrugs. “I guess that’s a matter of opinion,” he replies, and Sawyer’s smile changes from a smirk to one of genuine affection. He sets his hand on Jack’s hip and Jack looks up, smiles back.
“Tomorrow’s gonna be a hell of a lot different than today, isn’t it?” Sawyer asks, even though he already know the answer.
“Yeah,” Jack answers, sighing. “We should probably make the most of it then, huh?”
Sawyer chuckles a bit and pulls on Jack’s hit, which hitches as he scoots closer to Sawyer. “Took the words right out of my mouth,” he says.
“Not yet,” Jack jokes, before he kisses Sawyer again, knowing good and damn well he’s horrible at come-ons. They always sounds so awkward and forced coming out of his mouth.
But Sawyer shakes his head and chuckles, and Jack really doesn’t care if he’s only being humored or not - of if Sawyer’s laughing at him or not. Because Sawyer bridges the distance between them, kisses Jack back and makes it so that they both have no choice but to forget about tomorrow. For now.
Part Seven
Rating: PG-13
Summary: There are a thousand things he needs to be thinking about, worrying about, plans that he needs to be making. And he can’t make them around Jack and that girl and all of the shit she’s managed to stir up in the two whole minutes she’s been here.
Disclaimer: I do not own Lost. At all. I wish but alas...
Author's Note: This is the next part of my continuing Jack/Sawyer, post-apocalyptic AU saga. :) Over all, this is a Jack/Sawyer story, but you’re going to have to bear with me because it’s going to take a little while to get there. Things are, however, finally going places. ;)
Previous Parts: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five
Sawyer leaves Jack, Sayid, and the new girl - Kate - to sort themselves out. The people assembled in the lobby seem to go back to business as usual, but they regard Kate with the same distrusting glances they had been giving Jack for the past couple of days. For now, is seems, the tension has died down, the panic minimalized. Sawyer has to organize his thoughts, to think about what he’s going to do and say tomorrow when he has to stand up in front of people and convince them to load up and march into enemy territory to save someone they don’t even know.
And he certainly can’t think about any of that while he’s watching Jack like a hawk from across the room and seething every time the girl touches him.
He feels like such a asshole, because it isn’t like anything has happened with Jack. One almost-kind-of-kiss doesn’t justify anything that he’s feeling. But it’s there. Frustration. Resentment. Jealousy. The girl is a friend, that’s what Jack said, but it’s clear from the way she looks at him - like she lives, like she breathes for his approval - and the way she touches him - like she wants him to touch her back - that she wishes there was something more.
It clouds Sawyer’s mind to the point where he isn’t even thinking anymore, just staring like an insane stalker and grinding his teeth. There are a thousand things he needs to be thinking about, worrying about, plans that he needs to be making. And he can’t make them around Jack and that girl and all of the shit she’s managed to stir up in the two whole minutes she’s been here.
So, he leaves. Passes the three of them gathered at the foot of the stairs, and his bad mood must be radiating off of him in waves because people adjacent turn and notice. Sawyer is halfway up the stairs within a few seconds and doesn’t notice Jack watching him all the way.
*
“Jack?” Kate asks.
Jack turns, startled, and shakes his head. He can’t be thinking about Sawyer right now - not about what had almost happened in his room, not about his suspicions about Jack’s relationship with Kate, and certainly not about the fact that he had almost stormed out of the room not thirty seconds ago. He could think about - and would think about - all of that later.
But right now, he’s too angry with Kate to think about much of anything else. When he turns to face her, his expression obviously reflects that because she looks away, looks down, and sighs.
Jack knows Kate, knows her as if she is his sister, and even though she looks guilty, he knows she doesn’t feel guilty. He knows she stubbornly believes that she has done the right thing by following Jack, that he was wrong to insist that she stay behind in the first place. But she has always shrunk away from his judgment, tried to make him feel guilty for being angry with her.
In the past, it has worked. But not now. And especially not since her presence has stirred up more tension that Jack could ever have imagined.
“I’m sorry,” she says, with a small shrug. Jack shakes his head.
“No you’re not,” he replies, as if he’s asking why she’s even bothering to lie. She sighs and looks down again. Jack keeps his eyes hard and angry. He wishes he were happy to see her, but he isn’t. She was safer where she was, and now…now he has to worry about himself, and Claire, and Sawyer, and Sayid, and Kate.
“Why did you come, Kate?” Sayid asks, with less judgment than Jack knows he’s capable of at the moment. One thing is for sure, Jack can always count on Sayid to remain level-headed, despite whatever he happens to be feeling. Jack has never been very good at that.
“I couldn’t sit at home,” she replies, as if she’s appealing to Sayid - to them both. “I just…couldn’t.” It isn’t much of a reason, and if the look that Sayid sends Jack is any indication, he seems to agree. But all either of them really do is shake their heads. Because there’s nothing they can do now. Kate is here. And they aren’t going to force her back. Christian wouldn’t take her in again if they did. Once you leave, you leave for good. They all knew that. It was safe on the surface, that they knew now. But Christian used people’s fears to rule them. There was no way he would give that up without a fight.
So, Kate is there to stay. Whether Jack likes it or not.
“Is anybody else coming?” he asks, hoping, praying, that the answer is know. On top of everything else, he doesn’t need any more surprises.
Kate turns to face him and shakes her head. “No,” she answers. “Just me.”
“Good,” Jack says, with a nod. “There’s a meeting tomorrow. Sawyer promised to help me find Claire. We’re going to start planning tomorrow and go from there.” Kate nods along, though Jack can tell from the look on her face that his detached tone of voice is setting her off balance. It isn’t something that she’s used to. Jack never stays angry long. Until now, he hasn’t had the proper motivation to.
But what Sawyer had said to Jack lingers in the back of his mind. He can’t let go of his frustration with Kate. It isn’t fair, but it keeps Jack irritated and on edge. It keeps him at arms length from Kate even though he still considers her to be one of his best friends.
“Sayid can help you find a room, let you know when dinner is,” Jack goes on. He sees Sayid send him a look - puzzlement, it seems - but Kate doesn’t see it because her eyes are on Jack, putting Sayid behind her. Jack stands on the bottom stair of the staircase, wishing he could run up and fix things with Sawyer now, this second.
“Jack…” Kate says, but stops. Jack waits. “I made a mistake.”
“Yeah,” Jack agrees, turning around and leaving her there with Sayid. He doesn’t have time to feel guilty. He doesn’t think he would if he did. Kate has a long history of leaping before she looks, and Jack is tired of making excuses for that. His anger will fade, and, eventually, disappear. But now, it’s a roaring fire in the center of his chest, and it propels him forward, to Sawyer’s door, where he can only knock, wait, and hope things haven’t been damaged beyond repair.
Jack doesn’t know what it is that’s between them, but he knows that there’s something. He knows that he’d almost kissed Sawyer not twenty minutes ago. Sawyer had almost kissed him back. He doesn’t know what to make of that, or what he’s going to say when Sawyer opens the door. But he knows that he has to try.
*
“We keep meetin’ like this,” Sawyer says, after he opens the door. How many conversations of theirs have begun with Jack coming to his door, now? Jack just nods and shuffles his feet. Sawyer can’t overpower the part of him that is petty, and asks, “How’s the girl?”
He’s well aware that he sounds as jealous as he feels, but given that they’d almost been making out on the back of Sawyer’s couch before all hell had broken loose, he figures it’s probably time to lay all of his cards on the table and see what Jack’s hand is.
“Do you want to talk about this in the hallway, or can I come inside?” Jack asks, because Sawyer is physically blocking his way. He’s isn’t sure if Sawyer is angry with him, or if he’s just angry. Sawyer sighs and steps aside, though, letting Jack pass and shutting the door behind them both.
Jack stands with his back to Sawyer for a few moments, trying to think of something do say. When he turns around, he still isn’t sure, but he knows he has to say something. “Look, Sawyer…”
He doesn’t, however, have the chance to get very far, because, in the time that Jack had been thinking of something intelligent to say, Sawyer had been crossing the room, until he was a mere foot away from Jack, reaching out and grabbing hold of the back of his neck with one hand. The second before Sawyer kisses him, all manner of absurd thoughts begin bouncing around in his head (Sawyer has big hands) but they are all blown away in the next second.
Jack feels frozen in place for the longest time, but that doesn’t seem to deter Sawyer, who just keeps kissing him until Jack decides to return the favor. Which he does, once he finally has his wits about him. He reaches behind Sawyer and grabs a hold of his shirt, because he has to grab a hold of something, has to steady himself so his feet don’t fall out from under him, because damned if Sawyer isn’t a great kisser.
Jack expects reality - and all manner of important questions - to smack him upside the head the second that they pull away from each other. But those thoughts don’t come. Sawyer, Sawyer, Sawyer. It’s all he can think, as he stares at every little thing about the man - his hair, his eyes, his lips - and Sawyer stares right on back.
“Just thought I’d put that out there,” Sawyer says, with a shrug, and if he thinks that there’s even the slightest chance Jack would reject him after that, he has another thing coming. Jack just smiles and grabs the front of Sawyer’s shirt, pulls him right back in, and marvels at the fact that he doesn’t have to adjust for much of a height difference. If Sawyer is shorter than him, it’s only by an inch or less. It’s actually kind of nice.
Somehow, in the chaos, in the swirling mess that the last week have made of his life, Jack has been able to find something nice. It’s nothing less, he thinks, than a miracle.
*
“What about Kate?” Sawyer asks. They’re both tired, spent, and faint of breath, lying in the middle of Sawyer’s bed. Jack’s left leg is between both of Sawyer’s and they’ve spend pretty much the last twenty minutes kissing. The list of things they should be doing, thinking about, is as long as Sawyer’s arm, but he doesn’t care. He has Jack now, and he means to hold onto him tightly until reality comes crashing back down on them like a ton of bricks. Sawyer’s question is the beginning of that, because he has to grip Jack’s arms to stop him from pulling away.
“Sawyer, I already told you-”
“No, that ain’t what I meant,” Sawyer assures. He’s long since let go of the idea that there’s anything going on between Jack and Kate - even though there is a lingering doubt in the back of his mind that he can’t deny. “I mean now that she’s here, you gonna keep trying to get her to stay behind?”
Jack shakes his head and sighs. “I guess not,” he answers. “Not if she’s just going to follow me anyway.”
“You’re still pissed at her, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Jack answers. He doesn’t know why he’s holding onto it, why he can’t just let it go. But he also knows that he will, with time. Kate would like him to forgive and forget the instant after he’s wronged, but Jack doesn’t have that in him. Kate will just have to wait, to be patient. “But not for the reason that you think.” He adds the last part under his breath, but Sawyer’s brow furrows in confusion and Jack knows he’s going to ask what he’s talking about. “I didn’t…you thought there was something between her and I and I thought she’d ruined things. You know…between us.”
Sawyer smirks like he’s very proud of himself. “Up until twenty minutes ago there wasn’t really an us.”
Jack just smiles back, shyly, and ducks his head a bit. He picks a loose thread on Sawyer’s comforter and shrugs. “I guess that’s a matter of opinion,” he replies, and Sawyer’s smile changes from a smirk to one of genuine affection. He sets his hand on Jack’s hip and Jack looks up, smiles back.
“Tomorrow’s gonna be a hell of a lot different than today, isn’t it?” Sawyer asks, even though he already know the answer.
“Yeah,” Jack answers, sighing. “We should probably make the most of it then, huh?”
Sawyer chuckles a bit and pulls on Jack’s hit, which hitches as he scoots closer to Sawyer. “Took the words right out of my mouth,” he says.
“Not yet,” Jack jokes, before he kisses Sawyer again, knowing good and damn well he’s horrible at come-ons. They always sounds so awkward and forced coming out of his mouth.
But Sawyer shakes his head and chuckles, and Jack really doesn’t care if he’s only being humored or not - of if Sawyer’s laughing at him or not. Because Sawyer bridges the distance between them, kisses Jack back and makes it so that they both have no choice but to forget about tomorrow. For now.
Part Seven