It'll Come Back Around
Title: It'll Come Back Around
Characters: Sawyer. Mentions of Anthony Cooper, Uncle Doug, Hibbs, Frank Duckett, Mr and Mrs Ford, Juliet.
Warnings: Mentions of deaths of Duckett and Cooper. Spoilers all through S5.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Late luau gift for elise_509, who requested Sawyer. In 1976 on the island, Sawyer realises that somewhere out there it's the time that his father shot his mother and them himself. He remembers key moments in his search for the original Sawyer.
1976:
It had seemed like a game at first, hiding under the bed before the bad man came. Kinda like the sort of thing James would play with the other kids at school. He hadn't really understood why his mother was making him do it, or why she was so tearful as she told him she loved him. He still didn't know what had happened, why Daddy was so angry and Mommy so upset. As for Mr. Sawyer, he was still just a name to James, just a name he vaguely remembered his parents mentioning, but hadn't taken much notice of at first.
The name had meant nothing to him until it appeared in the note his father had left behind.
Uncle Doug had sent James out of the room when he'd realised that he was listening to every word as Doug read the note aloud. But James had heard enough by that time, enough to know exactly who the man named Sawyer was.
For a long time afterwards, James had wondered if he could maybe have done something different. Perhaps if he'd come out from under the bed that day, he could have stopped his father from pulling the trigger. But instead, he'd saved himself by hiding under the bed. Eventually, he'd mentioned this to his uncle.
But Uncle Doug had said no, it wasn't his fault at all, that he'd done the best thing by hiding under the bed and staying out of his father's way. By doing that, he may well have saved his own life. And there was nothing he could have done to change the outcome.
Uncle Doug had said much the same thing when he'd caught James writing the letter to the man called Mr. Sawyer. "What's done is done"; James couldn't change anything.
He didn't tell Uncle Doug that he'd finished the letter after all. And he didn't tell anyone of his determination to track down the man named Sawyer and make sure he knew what he had done.
1988:
He looked at himself in the mirror, and he didn't recognise the face looking back.
Throughout James's childhood, his dreams had been haunted by a man without a face, a shadowy figure in the background as he watched his father turn the gun on his mother and then himself. He'd tortured himself many times over the years wondering what the man looked like - was he tall? fat? blond?
He hadn't set out to pull that con on the couple he'd met in Tallahassee. He'd been there searching for the man he'd hated all these years, something he'd only felt able to do after his uncle had died from the brain tumour, when he'd gotten himself into trouble. He'd needed the money to pay the guys he owed, and hell, the woman was offering the money to him on a plate just as she offered herself.
There was a part of him that had felt sick to his stomach as he closed the deal, thinking of his parents all those years ago, and yet a part of him that had felt the undeniable thrill at knowing he'd got what he wanted, while the dumb fuck thought it was his own idea.
Afterwards, for a moment the nausea won out again, as he looked in the mirror and was confronted with the man he had become.
He had become the man without a face, the man that had haunted his nightmares all these years.
But he did it again, of course. He knew it was what he had to do to survive. And it had become a part of who he was.
September 2004:
He wondered how he'd feel when he finally set eyes on the man he'd been hunting all these years. The day he'd walked away from Jessica and David after seeing their son, he'd even wondered briefly whether he could have actually seen the real Sawyer at some point without realising. But the face of the man named Duckett brought back no memories.
Hibbs's friend didn't know Sawyer, couldn't possibly understand how apt the words were that he'd said as they completed the transaction. "You look a man in the eye and you point a gun at him, you find who you really are, mate." Because it was truer than he knew; after having been consumed by the desire to kill the original Sawyer for all these years, as well as having become the man he'd been hunting that whole time, he'd forgotten who James Ford really was. And he didn't know whether he would get any sense of that person back once he'd pulled the trigger.
That was why he hadn't just shot Duckett straight away when he first saw him. But hell, he'd wanted to, especially when the son of a bitch had started talking about Southern women, lumping Sawyer's mother in with a long line of his cast-offs. Did he even remember Mary from Jasper, Alabama?
Afterwards, he'd felt faintly disgusted with himself that he'd just driven away. He'd had the opportunity to kill the bastard, and he hadn't taken it. What kind of a man did that make him?
But that had been nothing compared to what he'd felt after he did pull the trigger, only to realise after beginning to read the letter that Duckett really didn't know what the hell he was talking about, that Hibbs had been using Sawyer as a cat's paw in his own personal vendetta. And Sawyer wondered what kind of a man he had now become.
December 2004:
He'd just about given up all hope by that time that he'd ever find the real Mr. Sawyer. Even if he ever did leave the island, after what happened with Hibbs, he wouldn't ever trust any tip-offs about the man's whereabouts again.
He sure as hell never thought he'd run into the son of a bitch on this goddamn island.
He'd imagined many scenarios over the years for the moment he actually met the man. He'd prepared himself for a response of "Mary who?" - after all, the number of times the bastard had probably pulled that con over the years, he probably couldn't keep them all straight. And even though he never really believed this one would happen, Sawyer had always liked to imagine the one where the other man showed remorse for what he had done.
But what he'd never expected to hear was "Yeah, I remember her. She practically begged me to take her thirty-eight thousand dollars and to rescue her from her sorry little life."
Had it not been enough for this man to have stolen Sawyer's future with his family from him? Did he have to steal his past, too? Sawyer couldn't remember much about his mother, but the one thing he'd always hung on to his entire life was the fact that she'd loved him. And now, with that one remark, the son of a bitch had even taken that from him.
It had been easier than he'd thought at the time when he actually killed the man. Hell, he wasn't even thinking consciously about it. Blind rage had just taken over. Wasn't until he was stood there with the guy lying dead in front of him that he really knew what he'd done.
He didn't allow himself to think about it until after he'd got back to camp, and even then it had taken a long time for it to sink in. He didn't know where he would go from here, or who he would be, now he had finally fulfilled what had been his purpose for all these years.
1976:
James hadn't told Juliet what was bothering him. But she'd read his file; she already knew that somewhere out there, an eight-year-old boy hid under the bed as his father shot his mother and then himself.
"Y'know, I could just hop on that damn sub right now, stop my dad from pulling the trigger," he'd said when she admitted that she knew. "Or I could go kill him, you know who I mean, stop him from conning them in the first place." He'd always suspected that Juliet knew what the man's name really was, as opposed to that long list of aliases he'd rattled off. It had probably been on James's file, Locke's too. But he didn't want to know. He was putting that time behind him now.
"Are you going to?" Juliet asked.
"Nah." James shrugged. "Whatever happened, happened, right? That's what Faraday'd say if he was still here, anyway." He fell silent, thinking how things could have been different if he had tried to change anything, of who he might have been if his parents were still alive.
But he also knew that he couldn't change anything. As his uncle had said, or would say a few days from now, what was done was done. He had his life there and he had to concentrate on that now.
He still didn't know that by believing that he could truly make a future for himself in Dharmaville, that he could be a different man to who he had been before, he was conning himself more than he'd ever conned anyone else in his life.
Characters: Sawyer. Mentions of Anthony Cooper, Uncle Doug, Hibbs, Frank Duckett, Mr and Mrs Ford, Juliet.
Warnings: Mentions of deaths of Duckett and Cooper. Spoilers all through S5.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Late luau gift for elise_509, who requested Sawyer. In 1976 on the island, Sawyer realises that somewhere out there it's the time that his father shot his mother and them himself. He remembers key moments in his search for the original Sawyer.
1976:
It had seemed like a game at first, hiding under the bed before the bad man came. Kinda like the sort of thing James would play with the other kids at school. He hadn't really understood why his mother was making him do it, or why she was so tearful as she told him she loved him. He still didn't know what had happened, why Daddy was so angry and Mommy so upset. As for Mr. Sawyer, he was still just a name to James, just a name he vaguely remembered his parents mentioning, but hadn't taken much notice of at first.
The name had meant nothing to him until it appeared in the note his father had left behind.
Uncle Doug had sent James out of the room when he'd realised that he was listening to every word as Doug read the note aloud. But James had heard enough by that time, enough to know exactly who the man named Sawyer was.
For a long time afterwards, James had wondered if he could maybe have done something different. Perhaps if he'd come out from under the bed that day, he could have stopped his father from pulling the trigger. But instead, he'd saved himself by hiding under the bed. Eventually, he'd mentioned this to his uncle.
But Uncle Doug had said no, it wasn't his fault at all, that he'd done the best thing by hiding under the bed and staying out of his father's way. By doing that, he may well have saved his own life. And there was nothing he could have done to change the outcome.
Uncle Doug had said much the same thing when he'd caught James writing the letter to the man called Mr. Sawyer. "What's done is done"; James couldn't change anything.
He didn't tell Uncle Doug that he'd finished the letter after all. And he didn't tell anyone of his determination to track down the man named Sawyer and make sure he knew what he had done.
1988:
He looked at himself in the mirror, and he didn't recognise the face looking back.
Throughout James's childhood, his dreams had been haunted by a man without a face, a shadowy figure in the background as he watched his father turn the gun on his mother and then himself. He'd tortured himself many times over the years wondering what the man looked like - was he tall? fat? blond?
He hadn't set out to pull that con on the couple he'd met in Tallahassee. He'd been there searching for the man he'd hated all these years, something he'd only felt able to do after his uncle had died from the brain tumour, when he'd gotten himself into trouble. He'd needed the money to pay the guys he owed, and hell, the woman was offering the money to him on a plate just as she offered herself.
There was a part of him that had felt sick to his stomach as he closed the deal, thinking of his parents all those years ago, and yet a part of him that had felt the undeniable thrill at knowing he'd got what he wanted, while the dumb fuck thought it was his own idea.
Afterwards, for a moment the nausea won out again, as he looked in the mirror and was confronted with the man he had become.
He had become the man without a face, the man that had haunted his nightmares all these years.
But he did it again, of course. He knew it was what he had to do to survive. And it had become a part of who he was.
September 2004:
He wondered how he'd feel when he finally set eyes on the man he'd been hunting all these years. The day he'd walked away from Jessica and David after seeing their son, he'd even wondered briefly whether he could have actually seen the real Sawyer at some point without realising. But the face of the man named Duckett brought back no memories.
Hibbs's friend didn't know Sawyer, couldn't possibly understand how apt the words were that he'd said as they completed the transaction. "You look a man in the eye and you point a gun at him, you find who you really are, mate." Because it was truer than he knew; after having been consumed by the desire to kill the original Sawyer for all these years, as well as having become the man he'd been hunting that whole time, he'd forgotten who James Ford really was. And he didn't know whether he would get any sense of that person back once he'd pulled the trigger.
That was why he hadn't just shot Duckett straight away when he first saw him. But hell, he'd wanted to, especially when the son of a bitch had started talking about Southern women, lumping Sawyer's mother in with a long line of his cast-offs. Did he even remember Mary from Jasper, Alabama?
Afterwards, he'd felt faintly disgusted with himself that he'd just driven away. He'd had the opportunity to kill the bastard, and he hadn't taken it. What kind of a man did that make him?
But that had been nothing compared to what he'd felt after he did pull the trigger, only to realise after beginning to read the letter that Duckett really didn't know what the hell he was talking about, that Hibbs had been using Sawyer as a cat's paw in his own personal vendetta. And Sawyer wondered what kind of a man he had now become.
December 2004:
He'd just about given up all hope by that time that he'd ever find the real Mr. Sawyer. Even if he ever did leave the island, after what happened with Hibbs, he wouldn't ever trust any tip-offs about the man's whereabouts again.
He sure as hell never thought he'd run into the son of a bitch on this goddamn island.
He'd imagined many scenarios over the years for the moment he actually met the man. He'd prepared himself for a response of "Mary who?" - after all, the number of times the bastard had probably pulled that con over the years, he probably couldn't keep them all straight. And even though he never really believed this one would happen, Sawyer had always liked to imagine the one where the other man showed remorse for what he had done.
But what he'd never expected to hear was "Yeah, I remember her. She practically begged me to take her thirty-eight thousand dollars and to rescue her from her sorry little life."
Had it not been enough for this man to have stolen Sawyer's future with his family from him? Did he have to steal his past, too? Sawyer couldn't remember much about his mother, but the one thing he'd always hung on to his entire life was the fact that she'd loved him. And now, with that one remark, the son of a bitch had even taken that from him.
It had been easier than he'd thought at the time when he actually killed the man. Hell, he wasn't even thinking consciously about it. Blind rage had just taken over. Wasn't until he was stood there with the guy lying dead in front of him that he really knew what he'd done.
He didn't allow himself to think about it until after he'd got back to camp, and even then it had taken a long time for it to sink in. He didn't know where he would go from here, or who he would be, now he had finally fulfilled what had been his purpose for all these years.
1976:
James hadn't told Juliet what was bothering him. But she'd read his file; she already knew that somewhere out there, an eight-year-old boy hid under the bed as his father shot his mother and then himself.
"Y'know, I could just hop on that damn sub right now, stop my dad from pulling the trigger," he'd said when she admitted that she knew. "Or I could go kill him, you know who I mean, stop him from conning them in the first place." He'd always suspected that Juliet knew what the man's name really was, as opposed to that long list of aliases he'd rattled off. It had probably been on James's file, Locke's too. But he didn't want to know. He was putting that time behind him now.
"Are you going to?" Juliet asked.
"Nah." James shrugged. "Whatever happened, happened, right? That's what Faraday'd say if he was still here, anyway." He fell silent, thinking how things could have been different if he had tried to change anything, of who he might have been if his parents were still alive.
But he also knew that he couldn't change anything. As his uncle had said, or would say a few days from now, what was done was done. He had his life there and he had to concentrate on that now.
He still didn't know that by believing that he could truly make a future for himself in Dharmaville, that he could be a different man to who he had been before, he was conning himself more than he'd ever conned anyone else in his life.