Title: When It Rains...
Pairing: Sawyer/Kate
Rating: PG
Spoilers/Warnings: Spoilery up to 4x08
Word count: 1669
Disclaimer: I don't own Lost
Summary: ...Sawyer finds himself sitting in front of a window, staring outside.(Takes place on the island)
Author's note: The idea just struck me in the middle of social studies so I decided to use my whole day on writing it. Hope it's not too confusing.
Can't thank my wonderful friend
silverferret89 enough for beta-ing. She's the best friend and beta one can get and I'm not sharing ;)
(None of us have English as our mother language so if you notice any grammar mistakes or such, please tell me. I'm very perfectionistic).
Enjoy!
When It Rains…
He stared outside the window at the palm trees that swayed tranquilizing in the soft breeze. Far out over the jungle, dark clouds were drowning the royal blue sky, moving fast towards their barracks.
He had known for hours that it would rain today; Locke had proven himself to be the human hydrometer and he happily told people the daily weathercast if they asked him. He hadn’t asked but Hurley had, and that dude sure knew how to blabber. He had to admit to himself (and himself only) that despite always grumbling about Hurley’s constantly moving mouth, he respected his former roommate and treasured their friendship. The only one he’d ever had, and could keep. Which was one of the reasons he had decided to move into another house, just to be sure that he didn’t accidentally say something… wrong. And ruined it.
The most important reason though was a sudden longing for solitary, serenity.
The sky had almost turned black now and heavy clouds were looming over his house. Soon the first drop would fall, splatter onto the dirty ground like blood, and then the next would follow.
The door behind him opens slowly, he can hear the hinges screech, and someone enters the living room where he sits. He knows it is her even before she speaks; he can sense her presence, hear her quiet and calm breath, and smell her perfume in the air.
He closes his eyes and leans back into the soft chair. She steps up behind him, her footsteps barely audible on the wooden floor.
“You’re easy to find.” She says, and he can’t help but smile as she is one of the best trackers in Otherville. It wouldn’t be possible for him to hide from her even if he wanted to.
“Always will be when it comes to you.”
She laughs and the sound warms his cold body. He has been sitting in here for hours, and despite the tropic climate on the island, he always turns cold when he sits in his special chair in front of the window and gazes at the jungle right outside.
Her hands touch his shoulders, skin rubbing against reluctant cloth.
“You’re freezing, Sawyer.” She notices, she always does.
“Then warm me up, Sweet Pie.” He drawls with a smirk and grabs her hand. She squeals like a little girl as he hauls her down onto his lap.
Suddenly she quiets down and looks at him. One of the brown curls is hanging down teasingly in front of her eye and he tries to remove it tenderly with his rough hand. He’s so pathetic around her. But he likes it.
She has turned him into a new person, the kind of man that he would have mocked before crashing on the island. A love struck man, a better one. Alone he was never able to control his loathing. But with her it doesn’t seem to even exist anymore. All his hate, his anger and contempt towards everything, even himself, is gone.
He still has fear though. A fright of her leaving him, breaking his heart although he promised himself long time ago that it would never happen. But it’s a slumbering feeling, and it is overruled by the other, stronger feeling.
The first drop of rain hit his window and got separated into many smaller drops. The wind made them travel down to the left and he would normally have followed their path, watched with blandness when some of the paths merged together on their way and two small drops would melt into one large.
But he had seen it so many times before.
As always another drop followed, then another and soon millions of raindrops were knocking on his window or throwing themselves onto the ground. The leaves on the palm trees wobbled up and down as water from the sky poured down in an endless thunderstorm.
Her full lips curl upwards in an appreciative smile as he finally places the strand of hair behind her ear, and he is overwhelmed by that feeling again.
He did try to shake it off but it never disappeared wholly, and then that day when she escaped her cage only to break into his and unknowingly demand him to run, he decided to surrender himself to the most consuming emotion of them all.
Suddenly his lips are on hers, one hand clutches her slender hip, and the other caresses her thigh.
She’s addictive. The best drug he’s ever tried. And she knows it. It bothered him at first, her know-it-all attitude, but she quickly won him over with her cute freckles and telling eyes.
The kiss starts out innocent, a quick brush that he can barely feel, teasing him to want more. Then she leans into him and the tips of their tongues touch for just a split second, tearing a muffled moan from his throat.
His hands can’t get enough of her, and he feels restricted in the armchair.
She lets out a grasp of surprise as he picks her up and carries towards the bedroom.
Together they will make the night last forever. They’ve done it before.
The sky looked heavy and intimidating, even though he was sitting inside, safe from wetness and chilly wind. For a second he even considered drawing the curtain but in the end he couldn’t make himself do it.
Instead he closed his eyes.
He woke up in his chair as he thought he heard someone knock on the door. Rigidly he sat up straight, and in the process he accidentally let go of the nearly empty bottle of scotch in his hand, which he had forgotten, so it ended on the floor with loud thump.
“You okay in there?” Someone asked and the front door was carefully opened.
All the hinges in his remote house were screeching, and every single time it made him wince as suppressed memories kept pressing their way back into his mind. A helicopter with a screeching propeller.
He quickly picked up the bottle and emptied the contents that hadn’t spilled onto the floor into his parched mouth. The liquid left a trail of warmth in his throat, and it felt good.
“Been better, Hurley.” He replied and leaned back into the armchair. They couldn’t talk too loudly or she would wake up. The bedroom was only down the hall.
“What are you talking about, Sawyer?” The voice sounded confused and he heard footsteps near him.
“Think I took the last booze.” He mumbled, and just as if his body wanted to emphasize the statement a hick-up followed.
Outside the storm was wearing off, leaving a trail of destruction behind. Some of the youngest trees had been unable to stay strong in the crushing wind and had snapped in half, while the ground had turned into one large mud pool. The clouds were slowly dissolving and the blue sky was peeking through the holes.
The person walked into the room, and he could easily imagine how the floor boards bent downwards as Hurley stepped on them. He had to turn around to see it but quickly found he didn’t have the energy.
The alcohol was rushing through his veins, sedating his troubled mind and draining his body in the process.
“Again.” It wasn’t more than a whisper and he almost didn’t catch it.
“What do you care anyway?” He grumbled, “I drink, you eat.”
The alcohol made him react too slowly, so he only just realized that this was one of those banned sentences that could ruin a friendship when the words had passed his lips.
“Sorry, old boy, liquor talkin’.” Was all he could muster at the moment, and Hurley probably didn’t tackle him when he was drunk.
“I think you’ve had a little too many, Sawyer.”
He brushed off the accusation with a slight wave of his hand.
“Hurley’s not here anymore, remember?”
The black clouds were gone now and the sky seemed more blue than it had before. As if it wanted to outdo the thunderstorm. The mud was drying up little by little and the raindrops on his window were beginning to evaporate.
“What do you mean he ain’t here anymore?” He asked bewildered while nervously running a hand through his long hair. “He told me yesterday that it would rain, and it did.”
“No, Sawyer.” The person stepped up beside him, and he was surprised to notice that she had boobs and long blonde hair. Quickly she bent down and picked up the empty bottle then looked worried at him with her big Bambi eyes.
“I told you it would rain yesterday because I know you like watching it.” She said patiently.
He, on the other hand, didn’t feel patient at all and the alcohol didn’t help.
“I remember Hurley tellin’ me, not you.” His voice had an edge of anger to it and he didn’t know how to suppress it. If only she could help him. But she was asleep.
“When Kate wakes up she can tell ya.”
The woman sighed and looked outside the window. She crossed her arms over her chest and took a deep breath.
“She’s not here either, Sawyer. Hurley, Kate, Sun, Jack, Sayid, and Aaron got rescued. Don’t you remember?”
A headache started throbbing just behind his eyes as the sun suddenly rose over the hilltop far behind the jungle and sent its morning rays through the window.
A helicopter. Propeller screeching like it’s in pain. Turmoil everywhere, chaos. A hand is torn out of his. The wind almost makes him fall as the chopper rises into the air. Gone. They’re gone.
He remembers now; the pain, the excruciating pain that destroys his body.
In his mind he can see her lie in bed: Thin linen covering her body, complimenting her female curves. She leans her head on his arm and smiles.
He tumbles out of the chair and pushes his way past the blonde woman.
All he needs now is to get another drink.