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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[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 leaning back in a double-take. "Shit, and I think it's just gained a new power, too. I didn't mean to say that."

[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.

[frakkup]

"James." She can't help herself, she follows him further into the room. He probably feels cornered, rushed, but she's not pursuing him for information anymore. He looks so miserable, face flushed red and hands shaking, and Kara reaches for his wrist, tries peeling it away as gently as she can.

"C'mon, calm down. I mean I'd've preferred it if you told me - " Frak, shut up, just tell him it's fine before he looks any worse - "It's not my business, but I'm not sorry I asked. I mean I'm not sorry I asked." I'm sorry I asked, why can't she say it? "I'm not - " Pulling her hand away, it's Kara's turn to cover her face. "Gods."

[cibosity]

It's the last thing he expects, when Kara reaches out for his hand, wrapping her own around his wrist and coaxing it gently away. He doesn't put up much of a protest, scared as he is of meeting her gaze, because it's probably the least she deserves right now. She trusted him with her kid, trusted him to keep her safe, and now she's just learned that he's got a little girl of his own that he hasn't done anything for, hasn't even seen- it's a wonder he hasn't gotten a blow to the face yet, Sawyer thinks to himself. Reluctantly, his eyes meet hers for a moment, but he looks away again right after.

"You don't gotta rub it in," he says, voice barely above a low growl. "And when was I supposed to tell you, huh? I hardly knew you had a kid, then she was crawlin' all over me and fallin' asleep right in my arms- and I'm supposed to, what, tell you I ain't no good with kids? How I left behind a girl who could've grown up to be just like that? Sure, call it selfish, but maybe I thought, I couldn't do right by Clementine, but that ain't a reason to screw up what I've got with Callie."

[frakkup]

"You're not going to," says Kara. She doesn't know why he wouldn't try to find his kid the instant he knew she existed, and maybe Kara will demand the truth from him someday, but now all she wants to do is chase that dark undercurrent of pain from his voice. It frakking hurts to hear, so much so that she wants to reassure him, and it seems like she might manage it until she finds herself adding, "not until you disappear. Not because you want to," she continues hastily, "Because everybody does. Everybody good leaves, I - "

Kara's eyes go wide with sudden terror. Of all the island's tricks, this would seem the most innocuous. Nothing's hunting them, nothing's falling from the sky. She's still in her own body, she's still a woman, but she has no control. She opens her mouth, and the truth keeps tumbling out, and it's...it's worse than so many things she can think of. "Frak me," she groans, clapping a hand over Sawyer's mouth before he can respond, then peels it away again, one finger at a time. "Tell me something untrue."

[cibosity]

He's just about to jump at the opportunity, to snag anything halfway fun, anything that even begins to resemble a joke. Because, whether or not it complicates things to let her know- that he would frak her, in fact, and he wouldn't bat his eye about it- at least it falls more in line with the things he'd say on a regular basis. Truths that can be admitted without being acted upon. But then her fingers cover his lips and muffle his voice, and he's pushed right back to thinking about leaving again, about disappearing. Sometimes, he does wonder what's brought him to this island, or even the one before it. If there's something out there capable of doing all of this to them, there must be a reason. It's not all chance. It can't be.

Sure, he's run before, he's vanished without a trace.

Looking her straight in the eye, he waits until she's lowered her hand far enough that she won't just shove his words back in a second time. "I ain't gonna leave," he mutters, voice hoarse, the admission he doesn't want to make, and the one he's tried his best to shape as positively as possible. It's good to have a place to call home.

Someday, though, he won't be welcome anymore. And when that day comes, there won't be a damned thing he can do about it.

[frakkup]

Kara's breath leaves her all at once, as suddenly and completely as if she'd been punched in all her tender places, and she lets her fingers fall away, something more naked in her eyes than could ever be exposed by sadistic island magic.

"Now I know you can lie," she says, and frak this. She'd stood up for life on this island, but maybe Parker was right after all, maybe it's all just one drawnout, hideous game to see how close to breaking this place can push them. "Godsdammit," Kara groans, turning away from him. If she's going to be stuck with this, the least James can do is not look while the island strips her bare.

[cibosity]

There's a moment when their eyes meet, and Sawyer swears he's looking into a mirror. Something raw, something bare, maybe even lonely- sure, it might just be him overdoing it and deflecting all over Kara, but his gut tells him that it's more than that, the way it feels like someone's stuck a knife in and twisted, sharp. Then, suddenly, she's leaving. She's the one to go first. And sure, that was the point that Sawyer's words were getting to just now, but he's not ready yet, he's not damned ready to let anyone go, so he reaches out for her wrist and gets to his feet, all else forgotten.

"I ain't lyin'," he bites out, ragged. "Of all the damned things I'd lie about, this ain't..."

Not even sure how he's supposed to finish that sentence, he tugs her back until they're face to face again, staring, memorizing every last detail of her face.

"This ain't one of them."

And god, he needs her to believe it.

[frakkup]

It's the same feeling, punched all over again, albeit for reasons even surer than before. "There it is," says Kara, mouth lifting up in a smile that doesn't look fragile so much as already shattered. She's been fighting it for years, but she can't hide the bitter curve to her lips. "Your fastest ticket off this island."

Her fingers twist in his shirt. She hasn't puzzled it out yet, if her body can do what her mouth can't, if it can lie, but Kara doesn't test it, just holds on, like her efforts will mean a godsdamn thing in the end. "Nobody stays. Why would you even want to?"

[cibosity]

He wishes he could say that he doesn't. If there's anything Sawyer knows, it's how damned futile it is, thinking that one's will alone can keep them anchored in one place. That wanting to stay makes a difference. And so maybe he understands that too, the pain that cuts through her voice, that seems so unlike the Kara Thrace that he's gotten to know that he wishes he could turn the clock right back and turn in the opposite direction. They're just words. He should be able to just reassure her, he wants nothing more than to leave, and that's why he'll stay, because the island's got a horrible sense of humor.

But that isn't true. It's not that he wants to leave. He's just sure that the happiness he feels here will eke away, drop by drop. His lips part, but they don't worm words. All Sawyer feels is the tug of her hand on his shirt, and when it registers, that's enough.

He leans in, closing the rest of the distance between them, hand immediately running along her spine as he presses his lips to hers, frantic. Maybe if he just doesn't say it. Maybe they can pretend a little longer.

[frakkup]

His mouth meets hers so suddenly their teeth clack together, and then Kara opens for him, under him, stupidly, pathetically grateful for the respite from her own weak voice. Maybe her body can't lie, but she's never been afraid of this, knows exactly what to do with the heat of him against her, her twisting fingers now fisting in his shirt to drag him closer, toes curling in her boots in an effort not to just leap up and twine herself around his waist.

"Yeah," she grinds out in the tiny space between them, fistful of shirt a makeshift collar now and dragging him forwards towards the door. "I can think of fair few ways to shut us both up."

[cibosity]

When the resistance suddenly crumbles, skin meeting skin and heat pressed flush up against his body, Sawyer doesn't know what he'll do. Quietly, in the back of his mind, are glaring red signs. He's never held her in his hands before, never tasted her lips, deceptively sweet. Already, his lungs are out of air as his cheek brushes against the side of her neck, his hand running along the length of her thigh, fighting the temptation to just pick her up and carry her the rest of the way. It's dangerous, though. New.

He's already fucked things up with Kate countless times, and now this?

"Might be a bad idea," he breathes, aware in spite of the way that his body tries to convince him completely otherwise, putting up no resistance as Kara steers the both of them.

[frakkup]

Kara laughs outloud, and in spite of everything, in spite of the asshole island curse, in spite of the fact that she hasn't had a drink in two years, she feels like her old self, running reckless and stubbornly carefree into something too big for her.

"Only kind of ideas I have," she says, releasing his shirt to grab his hand instead. She knows where she's going now. There'll be empty beds, empty bathrooms. Empty toolshed outside, even, but where she drags him is towards a small door that opens to reveal a dark space crowded with games and rubber balls, not kinky but juvenile, the games closet, site of not one but several of Kara's more memorable island moments. "C'mon," she says, stepping in and tugging him after before he can balk. "Not much but it's got a door that locks."

[cibosity]

As suddenly as she was pressed against him, now she pulls slightly away, keeping a firm grip on his wrist while pulling both of them into a small room. It makes things easier for Sawyer. These days, choice and all of its implications, they aren't so easy to swallow. Every step that he takes, there's a reaction, there's a consequence; it's so much simpler to go along with the plan as devised by someone else. Then, he doesn't have to think. Doesn't have to weigh. Just goes with his impulses, lets his hands do the talking, his mind blissfully blank.

They're rare, opportunities like that.

He does balk a little at the sight of all of the balls and games in the closet, feeling a little like he's just been invited to a carnival all his own. Weird. Fortunately, too dark to make out all of the small details, lest he really does find a clown's face looming somewhere. "This ain't stuff to get you all hot and fired with, right?" Sawyer breathes, his lips back on her neck before the door fully latches. "'Cause I don't like sharin'."

The statement can be applied to a lot more than a mere quickie in a closet. But Sawyer lets that thought slide.

[frakkup]

Kara kicks a ball out of the way, and, not one to waste a good forward momentum, throws that same leg up and around his hip, climbing Sawyer the way she'd been dying to the whole walk down the hall, or hell, maybe even since she first saw him.

"Was kinda counting on you for that," she says, and gods it feels good to have someone's hands on her, somebody's stubble against the soft skin of her throat. She's still young, but she spends so much time being lonely here she feels used up, not good to anyone anymore but her kid, and while that's enough to live on, it's not enough to mean she doesn't miss this, gripping someone's sturdy body between her thighs. "While we're telling truths," she says, grabbing his head between both hands and holding him steady for when her mouth descends, "I've been wanting to do this forever."