Title: Fallout – Part Eight
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A part of him hates that Jack’s gotten this far under his skin, that he cares so much about lying and deceiving him, that it actually hurts when he looks at Jack and knows he can’t tell him the whole truth without loosing him.
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. :)
Previous Parts: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven



“What is so important that it could not possibly wait until the morning?” Sayid grumbles, tiredly. It’s the middle of the night, and only the moon casts a glow over the now empty lobby of the hotel. In the middle of the room stand Sayid and Sawyer. Sayid looks exhausted, confused. Sawyer looks on-edge, bordering on upset.

“He’s gonna figure out,” Sawyer says, and Sayid has to visibly restrain himself from rolling his eyes. “I lied to him, I told him I didn’t know where his sister was.”

“Yes, that was the best course of action, for the time,” Sayid answers, but it obviously isn’t what Sawyer wanted to her, because he only becomes more agitated, pacing a bit and shaking his head.

“When we get goin’, questions are gonna start bein’ asked, decisions are gonna have to start bein’ made, and sooner or later it’s gonna come out that I knew about this all along.”

“And you’re worried that Jack will no longer trust you?” Sayid asks, trying to get a read on Sawyer. Even with his pacing, it’s not terribly hard. Sayid is neither stupid, nor blind. He sees what is going on between Jack and Sawyer. He knows why Sawyer is now plagued with guilt, why he had tried to push the responsibility for keeping Jack in the dark onto Sayid’s shoulders.

“Aren’t you?” Sawyer replies.

“I believed that lying to Jack was the best course of action available at the time,” Sayid responds, level-headedly. “I still believe that. Will it become an issue in the future? I cannot say. But lying to Jack was the only way to keep him safe, to keep him alive. And I would rather he be alive to be angry with me in the future than dead because of my guilt.” Sawyer stares past Sayid, as if he’s trying to keep in control of himself. “I understand that you’re relationship with Jack has brought about new complications, but you know what is best. The fact that you do not enjoy lying to him has nothing to do with the fact that you must. It is the only way to protect him. When it is necessary that he know, he will know. And we will deal with the consequences of lying to him only if and when we must.”

“What do you mean my ‘relationship with Jack’,” Sawyer asks, quietly, so quietly that Sayid wonders if Sawyer had heard anything that he had said after that, or if his brain had just shut itself off.

“Sawyer,” Sayid says, in a way that is mean to ask him if he thinks Sayid is an idiot. Sawyer frowns, but shakes his head and says nothing. “I appreciate this is difficult for you, but do not think it is easy for me either. I have known Jack for most of my life. I do not enjoy lying to him. But I know that I must, to keep him safe. We will find Nikki, and Claire, and lying to Jack is the only way to assure that he will be alive when we do so.”

“You and I are the only ones that know, right? Where they are?” Sawyer asks.

Saiyd nods. “I believe so.”

“Alright,” Sawyer shrugs and shakes his head. This still isn’t sitting right with him. He knows Sayid is right – he always is – but he can’t shake the guilt, the nagging feeling, in the back of his mind, that this is going to come back and bite him right on the ass. “I ain’t happy about it, though.”

“Neither am I,” Sayid answers. “But this is what must be done. I suggest you get some rest, Sawyer.”

“Yeah,” Sawyer agrees, thinks about Jack, upstairs. He’s in his own room tonight, but Sawyer can’t help but wonder if he’d like some company. “ ‘Night Saiyd.”

“Goodnight,” Sayid replies, heading toward his own room. Sawyer sits on the circular couch in the middle of the lobby and sets his head in his hands. A part of him hates that Jack’s gotten this far under his skin, that he cares so much about lying and deceiving him, that it actually hurts when he looks at Jack and knows he can’t tell him the whole truth without loosing him. But he’s a smart enough man to know that it doesn’t matter how much he hates the feelings; they’re there, and they aren’t going away. Jack is in his head, in his heart, and, near as Sawyer can figure, he’s there to stay.

Sawyer climbs from the couch with the knowledge that there’s nothing he can do. The fact that he’s lied to Jack sits like a lead weight in his chest, but he knows that Sayid is right, that it’s necessary. He knows how dangerous these people are, and Jack doesn’t. Jack is angry, as angry as Sawyer had been once, and Sawyer would do anything to save Jack from going through what he went through. That knowledge eases his guilt – if only a little.

He trudges slowly up the stairs, coming to a stop in front of Jack’s door. He knows he should keep walking, that he should just go and sleep in his own bed. He knows he should, but he doesn’t. Instead, he reaches out and turns Jack’s doorknob, finds his door unlocked, and slips inside.

Jack is in the bedroom, asleep beneath the blankets, and Sawyer carefully climbs into bed next to him. Jack stirs a bit and looks over his shoulder. His eyes are barely open, but he sees Sawyer anyway, and he smiles. “Hey,” he whispers, his voice heavy and sleepy.

“Hey,” Sawyer whispers. “Go back to sleep.”

“Are you staying?” Jack asks.

“Yeah,” Sawyer says, with a smile and a nod, laying down behind Jack and throwing an arm over his waist. Jack grabs on, holds onto Sawyer’s arm with both hands and settles back against his pillow. Sawyer hears the faint sound of him snoring within a minute, easily. It makes him smile – and, at the same time, curse himself for falling so hard so fast. This has never happened to him before. He doesn’t know how to explain it, but things with Jack…it feels different. They are different. Something about Jack comforts him, makes him feel grounded instead of restless, the way he had expected.

All he knows is he wants to be with Jack. He’s never wanted that sort of thing before, but he can’t deny that he does now. And, for once, as he lays in bed and listens to Jack snore, mumble things in his sleep occasionally, the past doesn’t seem to matter as much to him as the here and the now.

*

“Morning.”

Jack looks up from his breakfast and there’s Kate, smiling down at him with a plate full of food in her hands. “Can I sit with you?” she asks and Jack has to smile. He pats the space next to him on the bench and she sits down, looking grateful. “I felt kind of pathetic eating alone,” she confides. “No one seems to trust me yet.”

Jack shrugs. “Me neither,” he replies.

“I wanted to let you know that I’m not going to let you do that thing you always do when you’re mad at me,” Kate says as she cuts into her sausage. Jack looks over at her, confused. “You know, avoid me for a week, come back, and pretend it never happened?” Jack nods in recognition, staring at his breakfast, an ironic smile on his face. “Obviously that’s not going to work this time. Not that it, you know, ever really did before. I just…wanted to tell you that you’re right, I’m an adult. And we should deal with this like adults. Right?”

Jack looks over at her and he can feel affirmations on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he blurts out, “I’m with Sawyer.”

Kate screws up her face. “Huh?” she asks, thoroughly confused.

Jack looks away then, unable to believe he had actually just said that. He needs to explain himself, and fast. “I, um. Well, it’s really new. It happened yesterday, actually, and…I thought you should know. Because, we’re friends and…you deserve to know.”

“O-kay,” Kate says. “You mean you’re…together together?”

“Yeah,” Jack answers, only then stopping to consider the fact that he’s never actually said this to Sawyer – or Sawyer to him – and he has no idea what Sawyer wants.

Kate nods a few times. “And you’re worried I’m going to, what, make a pass at him or something?” Jack chuckles.

“No, it’s more like…” Jack shrugs, trying to think of the right words. “Everyone, back home, always thought you and I would end up together.”

“And you thought I thought that too?”

“Not really,” Jack answers. “I just thought…maybe.”

“Well, I didn’t,” Kate tells him. “I promise. And I’m happy for you, and Sawyer. He just seems kind of…rough around the edges, is all.”

“Just the edges he shows you,” Jack replies, quietly, almost under his breath. He looks over at Kate and she’s smiling, slyly. “What?” Jack asks, unable to suppress a nervous chuckle.

“You like him,” she taunts, and Jack looks away, blushes. She bumps him with her shoulder. “You do. You totally like him.”

“Are we twelve again?” Jack asks.

“Well, I certainly hope this works out better for you than your twelve-year-old crush on Shannon,” Kate replies, and Jack smiles. Even back then, the only one that Shannon looked at was Sayid. Thankfully for him, Jack hadn’t really been interested long enough for it to sting. He’d had the attention spam of, well, a twelve year old.

“Me too,” Jack says, chuckling, then shakes his head. Kate makes it so damn hard to stay mad at her sometimes.

*

“Hey,” Jack says, making Sawyer turn around and jump at the same time. He has a table full of guns in front of him, which Jack guesses that he’s loading. Dangerous time to sneak up on a man, Jack knows, and he wouldn’t had he known. Sawyer recovers quickly, setting the gun in his hand down.

“Hey,” he replies, leaning back against the table.

“Sayid told me you were down here,” Jack tells him, stepping a little bit further into the room. Sawyer nods a few times. “I didn’t know if we’d get a chance to talk before, you know, we leave tomorrow.”

“Ain’t we still seein’ each other tonight?” Sawyer asks, confidently, smirking just a bit. Jack ducks his head, smiling.

“I didn’t figure either of us would want to do much talking then,” Jack replies, with a confidence almost matching Sawyer’s – and smirk too. It makes Sawyer chuckle, and shake his head.

“You’ve got a good point there,” he answers, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the table a bit more. “What’s on your mind, cowboy?”

Jack takes a few more steps forward. “How dangerous are these people? Really, Sawyer. I want to know.”

Sawyer sighs. Is this really a story he’s ready to tell? He hasn’t told anyone before him, and Ana only knows because, well, she was there too. It’s no wonder they hate each other so much. All either one of them can think about when they look at each other is what they went through.

So, he guesses the answer is no. He isn’t ready to tell his story. He can’t, however, look Jack in he eyes and lie to him again – lies of omission included. But he has to be sure that Jack can handle the answer when it’s given to him, if he really knows what he’s asking.

“You sure, Jack?” Sawyer asks. “ ‘Cause, all due respect, you may not be ready for it.”

“They have my sister, Sawyer,” is Jack’s answer. His voice is inescapably clear. “I’m sure.” Sawyer nods a few times and breathes deep. The story wouldn’t be an easy one to tell if he wanted to. The only reason he hasn’t told Jack to fuck off by now is that, well, he’s Jack, and Sawyer can’t.

Shoving off from the table, he takes a few steps toward Jack. Jack gives him an odd look when he starts unbuttoning his shirt, and Sawyer doesn’t blame him. But Jack is silent as he waits. Sawyer just lets it hang open as he approaches Jack. “You see this, doc?” he asks, indicating a scar in about the middle of his chest. Jack looks down at it, stares is more like it actually. It looks like a surgical scar.

“What happened?” Jack asks, resisting the urge to reach out and run his hand along the raised flesh – as if that would help him figure it out. Sawyer sighs heavily and Jack looks up at him, curious, waiting.

“Nothing,” Sawyer says. “They conned me. Tried to get me to believe my heart was gonna explode if I didn’t stop fighting' ‘em. I guess it was their fucked up way of trying to control me.”

“That’s…” But Jack can’t find the right word. Deplorable? Horrific? Unconscionable? But the word that Jack ends up choosing is, “…insane.”

Sawyer chuckles bitterly. “Pretty much,” he replies. Jack stands up straight and looks at Sawyer. He doesn’t know what to say, what to think. He hates that this happened to Sawyer, hates that he can’t do or say anything to make it better. It will never be better.

“You’re dealin’ with the kind of people who will do anything and everything they can to get what they want,” Sawyer says, in a deadly serious voice that would have made Jack stand at attention even if he wasn’t already doing so. “You’re dealin’ with dangerous, crazy bastards, who will kill you soon as look at you if that’s what they think needs to be done.”

“You’re not scared at all?” Jack asks, because he can’t help himself. Sawyer had been loading guns purposefully when Jack had come upon him, and as much as he got on Ana for having an agenda of her own, it seemed to Jack that maybe Sawyer had one too. If anyone had a reason to be afraid, to want to be as far away from these people as was humanly possible, it was Sawyer.

“Are you?”

Jack laughs, because the question is ludicrous. “Yes,” he says.

“Of course I am,” Sawyer answers, his voice betraying no such emotion. Jack wonders how he does things like that. Jack wears his emotions so plainly that everyone can see them. He’s never been very good at hiding anything.

“Then how-”

“Because I need to be, Jack,” he says, and Jack’s mouth snaps shut. “I’m about to lead at least dozen people toward people who scare the livin’ hell out of them. Some of ‘em might not come back, and they don’t need to see me scared. It’ll only scare ‘em more.”

Jack takes a cautious step forward. “So, why are you telling me then?” he asks.

Sawyer ducks his head a bit and smiles, as if maybe only to himself. He lifts his head up and shrugs. “I guess I must trust you,” he answers. That must have been the right thing to say, because Jack barely keeps his face from lighting up. Sawyer smiles a little bit wider and Jack wraps his arms around Sawyer. Sawyer pulls him as close as he is physically capable.

“We’ll take care of each other,” Jack says. “All of us.”

Sawyer clasps Jack’s shoulder and stares a hole in the wall across the room. Truth is, he’s scared shitless. Scared shitless that the bastards will get their hands on any of them, but Jack especially. He knows that they’re capable of, how dangerous they are, and the fact that Jack will be anywhere near them doesn’t sit well with him. But Jack is a man on a mission, and all Sawyer can really do is stand by him and protect him at any cost. And that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

“Damn right,” he answers, quietly, but definitely. He closes his eyes and holds Jack tighter. God how he wishes tomorrow would never come.

TBC...