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Empty (Sequel to Broken) By Veet Voojagig
Pairing: Jack/Sawyer Rating: PG-13 (Language, violence) Summary: Jack and Sawyer talk, staving off loneliness for a brief time. Disclaimer: Not mine, etc. etc. I just wanted to borrow these guys for a bit. Forgive me?
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Closing his eyes against the last glare of the setting sun, Sawyer stretched out on the hard sand, his crossed arms cushioning his head. The gentle, steady rhythm of the waves caressed his ears, lulling him into a state of calm. He gave a slow smile. ‘Might just fall asleep here,’ he thought. ‘And before morning I’ll be torn up and eaten by some kinda jungle beasts. Good plan,’ he added with a wry chuckle.
He let his thoughts meander aimlessly through his brain, hardly noticing one before moving on to the next. How long he stayed like that, peaceful, relaxed, perhaps for the first time in days, he couldn’t say, but when he’d opened his eyes again the light had dissipated into a rosy glow on the horizon.
Gradual awareness of another presence crept over him, and he propped himself up on one elbow, his head turning to look at the man sitting nearby. Watching him. “Well, hello, Doc,” he murmured, his voice slightly husky despite his intentions to suppress his overwhelming desire. He cleared his throat and continued in more normal tones. “So, decided to stop avoiding me? What’s it been, five days since I seen ya?”
“Yeah,” Jack said softly. “Something like that.”
Sawyer let his eyes travel slowly over the other man, stopping at last on his weary face. He swallowed. “Whatcha need, Jack?” he asked, dropping his sarcasm and letting his real concern show through.
Jack stared silently out over the shadowed water. His whole body radiated tension and unease. “I… I can’t stand to be alone,” he said after a long while. “I need someone to talk to, to just be there when I don’t feel like talking… Someone who doesn’t expect me to be strong all the time,” he finished in muted tones.
“So, you need a friend.” Sawyer smiled sardonically. “And you chose me? Flattered, Doc. Really.”
Jack turned to gaze searchingly at him. “I didn’t choose you. You offered, remember?” Jack’s lips twitched into a hesitant smile. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind about me…”
“Never,” Sawyer whispered before he could stop himself. His fists clenched. ‘Dammit,’ he thought. ‘Why do I let him affect me? Why can’t I just fucking let it go?’
Jack settled beside him, placing a hand on his arm. “Why do you love me, Sawyer?” he asked quietly, unconsciously echoing Sawyer’s own internal litany.
Sawyer gave a bark of harsh laughter. “Bad taste,” he said caustically. He shrugged away from Jack’s touch.
“Sawyer…”
“Look, Jack. I wanna help you. I… I want you to be happy. But… Fuck, Jack, I can’t take this.” He closed his eyes. “You can’t touch me. You can’t ask me about my feelings. Please…”
“I’m sorry,” Jack whispered. “I never meant to… I just wanted to know.”
Sawyer raised his eyes to Jack’s face. “It’s best you don’t. Hell, I shouldn’ta said anything ‘bout it in the first place. Just settin’ myself up to be hurt.” His smile held a slightly bitter edge.
Silence stretched between them for several minutes, unbroken but for the sounds of the ocean. Sawyer’s finger ran through the sand, tracing abstract patterns. “So, Jack,” he said suddenly, filling the uneasy void, “was there anything in particular you wanted to talk about? Other than me, of course.”
Jack smiled weakly. “Not really,” he muttered. “I guess I just wanted you to ‘make it all better,’ just like our parents could when we were kids.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh.
“Make it all better… fuck, baby, I wish I could.” Sawyer rocked gently back and forth, his eyes tightly closed. The one time he’d really needed that from his parents… they’d both been gone. And he’d been on his own.
He shook his head. “It’s gonna take a long, long time to get back on your feet. You fee so empty without him, so hopeless, so lost… And you’re so desperate to have him back, to have that feeling again, that you imagine it where it’s not. Then you realize that you’re just looking for a replacement, a stand in. And it’s not good enough. It’s never good enough. And you know that you can’t have more until you let him go…” Sawyer suddenly realized that he was crying. He angrily swiped his hand across his face, trying to clear it of the wet evidence of his emotions, suppressed for so long, along with the memories now surfacing.
“Fuck,” he growled. He couldn’t break down. Not now, after all this time… not after it was all but forgotten. No, not that. He was always there, in the back of Sawyer’s mind. He’d just learned to ignore him.
Jack’s hand came to rest on Sawyer’s back, caressing first hesitantly, then with more strength and purpose when Sawyer didn’t move away. His touch was soothing, and Sawyer leaned into it.
“It’s all right,” Jack whispered. “If I don’t have to be strong, you don’t either. I won’t tell anyone, you know that. And I won’t think any less of you for it.”
Sawyer glared at him through his tears. “Damn you, Jack,” he snarled. “Damn you for making me think of him.”
“Tell me,” Jack said softly. “Maybe I can help.”
‘Help? Not fucking likely,’ Sawyer thought dully. He looked into Jack’s eyes. The earnest concern gazing back at him was too much for his abused heart to take. He wrapped his arms around his knees. “Mitch,” he whispered. “His name was Mitch.”
Dark brown eyes twinkling up at him. Arms around his waist, pulling him closer. That soft, resonant voice whispering, “I love you, James…”
Sawyer shook his head. “He was a couple years
younger’n me, gorgeous… I loved him from the moment I met him. We
were nauseatingly romantic to each other.” He gave a sharp, hollow
laugh. “Yeah.
He paused, his shoulders shaking with tension and distress. He waited until his voice was steady again and continued. “He’d borrowed a bunch of money from… well, some people who weren’t too nice, if you get my drift. I had, too, but nowhere near as much as him. I still don’t know exactly how deep he was. I think he was lyin’ to me ‘bout it.” An embittered smile. “Didn’t want to ‘worry’ me. Fucker.
“We’d both been franticly gathering cash for a few weeks. I had enough for me, a bit to spare, actually. Mitch said he’d manage, but I didn’t believe him. I got myself clear, then scrounged up a couple thousand for him. He said it would be enough… He said…”
Sobs wracked his body. ‘You didn’t wanna worry me, huh, Mitch?’ he thought acerbically. ‘Well, how fucking worried did ya think I’d be when I found you bleedin’ to death in the living room? Half a dozen gunshot wounds are pretty fucking worrying, I’d say!’
He was dimly aware of Jack’s arms around him, his comforting voice in his ear. “We’re the same, ain’t we, Jack?” he whispered. “Money or blood, what’s the difference? We both gave as much as we could without gettin’ ourselves killed, but they both wound up dead all the same. And there’s nothin’ more either of us coulda done.”
The minutes ticked away in silence, each man lost in his own thoughts, yet each drawing strength and comfort from the presence of the other. Sawyer leaned against Jack, resting his head on his shoulder. His eyes drifted closed, and he gratefully drank in the small bit of affection the doctor was able to give him. Not enough, not what he craved, but maybe in time…
‘Stop,’ he told himself. ‘Be glad you’ve got this much. You’ve got a friend, that’s more than you’ve had in years. Don’t push it.’ He let out a soft, resigned sigh and took Jack’s hand in his, gently caressing the back with his thumb. This would have to be enough. It was all he had. |