dreadful sorry, clementine

[cibosity]

In more ways than one, Tabula Rasa was a surefire step up from the previous island. A simple look at the way that Sawyer occupied himself on most days was more than enough of an indication; whereas before, he'd spent his days lounging around, scavenging for materials and possessions, often causing factions of the camp to turn against one another,

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[liliesfromluce]

Luce hurries her step when she sees exactly who it is that's gone and let himself fall prey terribly to his anger. She hurries forward and gives him a chastising look as she threads an arm around his waist to help balance him up. "What on earth were you doing?" she demands.

[cibosity]

Sawyer rolls his eyes as soon as he realizes that someone's gone and spotted his little tantrum, and all the consequent embarrassment it's landed him in. Just his luck, too, that it happens to be someone he's sure as hell fond of, someone he looks after more closely than the rest of the populace, partially because he knows how rough it can be to feel in want of love (though he'll never admit to it), and partially because she's just a hoot to be around. Squeezing a couple more curses in under his breath, he turns to look Luce in the eye.

Was hopin' someone would come and cop a feel, but just my luck, it's a lesbian, he's about to say, lips even parting with that soft growl of an exhale between his teeth.

"Kickin' the damn jukebox 'cause out of the billions of songs it coulda picked, it had to go and use my daughter's name," he says instead, eyes flying wide open as soon as the words are out of his mouth.

"And that ain't what I was gonna say."

[liliesfromluce]

Luce's brow raises very slowly. In fact, it's quite a trek upwards for her hairline in which she has proper time to squeeze his waist just a bit tighter to process the information being given. He's got a daughter -- he never told her. Should she talk about it? Does he want to talk about it, now? She has no idea how this works.

"Billions of songs and it picks your daughter's name," she echoes, voice a bit softer. "How old is your daughter?"

[cibosity]

He can feel her grip around his waist tightening, and for the love of everything sacred, Sawyer can't figure out what she's trying to do. Does she think that his foot injury's really enough for him to lose his balance? He's experienced far worse. Is she trying to give him some type of emotional support, with the confession he's just made? Well, he doesn't damned need it. But at the same time, he can't bring himself to fight too much against her grip, and he's just not sure why.

How the hell am I supposed t'know?

That's what he wants to say.

"Probably 'bout seven months," he grits out instead, face already turning red from the effort he's making to hold them back, all to no avail. "Probably 'bout seven months, if you don't count the friggin' nine I've spent on this damn island."

[needthepractice]

Beckett knew Sawyer well enough; anyone from IPD was familiar with the name, even if they hadn't quite met the man behind it, because he'd garnered enough of a reputation to speak for himself. A fondness of nicknames, an accent that screamed of the South - but she had a feeling a large part of it was part of a facade. No one was that smooth all the time. That kind of contriving was impossible to maintain forever.

Which was why, on her way past the rec room, she stopped to study for a moment - just in time to witness a sudden flare-up of temper. And that reaction struck her as surprisingly human - maybe more human than she'd given him credit for.

"Everything alright?" she asked, taking a few more steps into the room itself.

[cibosity]

Detective Kate Beckett was the kind of woman who would've gotten Sawyer into a whole lot of trouble back home, he knew that much. There were just certain types of women who could see right through him. Everything about Beckett, from her name to the color of her hair, just seemed to fall in line with the two most significant women from his past to date, who had seen something other than a simple con man from Alabama. Of course, that only meant that he'd turned the charm on full blast around her, even when she was simply in the room. There wasn't any real reason for Sawyer to be nervous, not on an island where it was written law that what he did in that old life couldn't be held against him, but still, scrutiny had a tendency of making him jumpy.

At least, when coming from an intelligent woman.

He swore lightly under his breath when she came into the room. Of course it had to be a member of the IPD catching him in such a compromising moment. Rolling his eyes, he'd planned out the witty retort in his head: just investigatin' my latest

[needthepractice]

It took a whole lot more than charm to get under Beckett's skin. She was well-versed in the practice of flirtation as deception, and it was definitely something she'd been on the receiving end of long enough in many an interrogation to know that people attempted to use it to their advantage when their backs were against the wall, more often than not when they were had something to hide. It was a distraction, a diversion, and to any less experienced, it would probably work. But it would take more than a cleverly assigned moniker and a few well-timed smirks to get her to be anything but suspicious. She couldn't afford to, not if they were going to be on the same team here.

"Honesty," she replied, both eyebrows lifting in surprise. "Nice touch. What were you going to do if kicking it didn't work? Or had you thought that far ahead yet?"

The tone in her words wasn't cruel, but genuinely curious. The truth of his answer had actually caught her off-guard, which was somewhat unexpected.

[cibosity]

It was her quip that drew Sawyer's attention back. Honesty. There weren't very many people on the island who knew that Sawyer had once been a lying, cheating, conning son of a bitch, and there were fewer yet who'd comment on the fact. Even Beckett herself hadn't made any direct mention of her general disbelief of the persona placed in front of her, not up until that point, and it made Sawyer nervous, trying to figure out how he'd slipped enough to give her a taste of the real deal. She wasn't even someone he was particularly close to (he found it increasingly hard to lie to those people, being emotionally invested).

"Probably storm outta the room and avoid the troubles I got that I can't friggin' fix on the island, cool down and pretend all's normal, and why the hell am I tellin' you this?" Sawyer asked, frowning deeply, before pointing a lightly accusing (because ultimately, he didn't think Beckett had the motive, but perhaps he'd read her wrong) finger in her direction. "Did you drug me? Did someone drug me?"

[howmanylives]

"You didn't honestly think that'd work, did you?" asked Jamie, brows arching as he lowered his book into his lap. He was stretched out on a couch on the opposite end of the rec room, legs kicked up in front of him. While normally the words would be spoken with sarcasm, however, there was something distinctly distracted about his tone, his thoughts not on the music, but rather on the page he'd just finished reading. It'd been a long while since he last came across Man, Mutant & the New Humanity, and in spite of the memories it inspired when he came across it on the shelf, none of them good, he pulled it out despite his better judgment. If it hadn't been for Sawyer's interruption, he might've reread the whole thing through in one sitting.

Jamie wasn't sure if he was upset or not.

"That's a pretty rookie mistake."

[cibosity]

It wasn't the first time Sawyer had overlooked present company, and certainly it wasn't going to be the last. No matter how well he'd learned to lie over the years, able to coax more money out of a woman's pocket with every passing word, the fatal weakness which tripped Sawyer up time and time again was always emotion. Anger made him near-sighted, grief made him blind altogether, and it was the combination of both that had made him plumb forget that the rec room was a room with pretty heavy traffic by the island's standards, even in the wee hours of the morning. Hopping on one foot, he glared in Jamie's direction, although most of the anger in his eyes was self-directed, still clouded by thoughts of Cassidy and that single photograph

[howmanylives]

"Well, in the absence of proper footwear, I'd suggest turning tail and running, in the future," Jamie replied in a flat voice, snapping his book shut, and turning it so the cover faced down into his lap. Folding his hands over the book, he fixed Sawyer with a curious glance, his attention, now, more fully on the other man in question. Being a fan of Lost, Jamie had a few ideas why the name Clementine might have a few frustrating connotations, but he wasn't about to pry, let alone trade stories about how many times he'd been plagued by Elton John's 'Daniel' for similar reasons. Not, at least, without prompting.

Nodding towards Sawyer's leg, he added, "You okay?"

[cibosity]

"Done enough turnin' tail and runnin' in my life," Sawyer muttered darkly, running the curve of his thumbnail against his forehead, brushing his hair out of the way. He'd kept the volume of his voice low enough that hopefully Jamie hadn't heard, but Sawyer couldn't be sure- and it did strike him as a bit strange that he'd mentioned it at all, even under his breath. Nervously, his eyes traveled up to meet Jamie's gaze. One of the downsides of having a friend who taught acting, of all things, was that Sawyer was pretty sure Jamie could see right through him, even on his best days. Maybe it was just a feeling; he didn't actually have anything to concretely back the belief up.

Nevertheless.

Seating himself heavily in an armchair, Sawyer shook out the injured leg, still feeling his toes tingle from the impact. "I'm not okay," he said, waving his hand dismissively, before then pulling a double-take. "I mean, I'm not- I'm n- since when did I start sayin' 'not okay?' I ain't- dammit. What the hell?"

[lexiepedia]

"Sawyer, oh my God," Lexie blurts out, stepping into the rec room just in time to see the kick to the jukebox and hurrying over without a second thought. That alone should give her cause to worry, but if only because of her present concern for him, it doesn't; a couple of months ago, she'd have been all walls, but ever since that night at the bar, since nearly everyone she cared about disappeared, her feelings for him have become a hell of a lot more complicated all over again. It's something she could do without, but it's hard to ignore when there's hardly anyone else.

Besides, she's pretty sure she'd have been going to his side even if she were still angry at him. It's the doctor in her.

"Are you alright?" she continues, not waiting for a response. "What's wrong? You didn't, like, hurt yourself, did you?"

[cibosity]

Murphy's friggin' Law hits all over again.

Sometimes these days, Sawyer gets to thinking about Lexie. The two of them have happened across one another with much greater frequency in the past couple of months than ever before, and it's hard not to speculate on just why that's the case. Usually, their moods are fairly predictable. Lexie's the type of person who needs support, who grew up with that standard picture frame family and received their love all the way up through med school, so it never comes as a surprise when she clings a little harder, cares a bit more demonstratively- it's the result of a different lifestyle, and it never bothers Sawyer so much as makes him feel a twinge of jealousy deep in his chest. And when it comes to himself, on the other hand, part of him's always seeking validation. Vindication. Some avenue towards making up for his past wrongs, but one that'll let him see other injustices go punished all the same. Protecting Lexie from that, and loving Lexie regardless, these are things Sawyer needs just as much

[lexiepedia]

Lexie flinches, at first; she can't help it. All it takes is a couple more seconds of his talking for her to relax, though, inasmuch as it's possible to with the kind of things he's saying. Whatever his psychological motivations, she's never spent a great deal of time trying to assess them, and while maybe this wouldn't surprise her if she stopped to think about it, hearing him say it is something else entirely. Something that hurts, in fact, her face falling as she looks at him. Even when she was mad at him, she was still fond of him, in a way, and lately, that's been even more the case than ever.

And, when it comes down to it, maybe she never really got to know him, but she knows enough to be reasonably certain that he wouldn't want to be saying these things right in the middle of the rec room.

"Hey," she murmurs, reaching for one of his hands. "Why don't we go somewhere else, okay?"

[cibosity]

The touch of her hand is what breaks Sawyer out of his reverie, blinking as he looks up, shocked to see the expression on her face. Surely, kicking the jukebox isn't worth a look like that, no matter how kind-hearted Lexie is- his eyes look briefly left and right, as though trying to figure out any other possible explanation, before it finally dawns on him, everything he's just said. It isn't easy for his face to go from flushed one minute to blanched the next, but still the color drains from his cheeks as he shakes his head lightly. He doesn't pull away from her hand, peering over his shoulder and afraid there might be sensitive ears there.

"I didn't mean to say that. I swear, I ain't tryin' to make you feel sorry for me- there's no reason to feel sorry for me," he says in a hush. "It ain't even like there's anythin' wrong, s'just that damn jukebox had to go ahead and- the hell am I tellin' you this for- use my kid's name, it played a song with my freakin' kid's name. That ain't no coincidence."

[frakkup]

"What the frak is the matter with you?" Kara demands the instant she slides through the doorframe. The anger in her voice surprises her, Kara too startled by the sight he makes to recognize the same fear that grips her every time Calliope gets hurt. James really is a giant baby sometimes.

"Were you trying to dump it on the jukebox, because trust me, not even a frakking missile could take this thing down. Electrocuting yourself's not gonna cut it."

[cibosity]

"The hell ain't the matter with me?" Sawyer mutters first, too lost in the throbbing pain of his toe to watch his words, the hurt bad enough that he's considering knocking his forehead against the wall just to divert the sensation to somewhere else. There's little worse than stubbing a toe, Sawyer thinks, because the pain's so far away from the brain that there's no loss in clarity or thought, just a fully conscious and perfectly primed mind ready to lament his poor fortune for all around to hear. He shoots Kara a look, almost piteous, because as sure as he is that she's a hardass, she's also a mom. Maybe he can earn a few sympathy points.

But in all honesty, as soon as she goes on about the jukebox, his pain's forgotten, replaced instead by a scathing glare at the offending machine, which has only cranked up its volume in the meanwhile.

"And the damn thing deserves whatever the hell it gets, bringin' up a song to remind me of my daughter, like I ain't got enough... crap to deal with," he practically yells at the jukebox, before

[frakkup]

She's been here long enough, she should know what's happening at once, should have known it the instant his face went blank with surprise, but Kara's too stuck on the revelation.

"Are you kidding me?" she asks, planting angry hands on hips. "You've been babysitting my kid for gods know how long, and you never thought to mention you've got one of your own?"

[cibosity]

He should keep his damn mouth shut, Sawyer knows, as soon as Kara rounds on him with that furious look in her eye. Doesn't matter if every bone in his body wills him to tell the truth, to spew it all out like some sort of emotional vomit, he's got no reason to go into details of his life that she hasn't asked after. But there's a hint of fear in his eyes too as he looks at Kara, as he thinks of Calliope, because whether he likes it or not, between the two of them, it's almost like he's gained some semblance of a family. Cares enough for the kid that she might as well be a daughter.

"Well it ain't like I've ever been a father to her," he replies, voice strained as he takes a few steps back, the pain in his foot forgotten. "Hell, I didn't even know she existed 'til my ex showed one day with a picture of this... baby, tellin' me she was mine, and I sure as heck haven't met her." Quickly, and masking the slight tremor in his hand, Sawyer claps his palm over his mouth and drags it down his face, trying to calm himself into keeping quiet.