The Ghost of a Dream

By Liritar Thranduiliell and Veet Voojagig

 

Pairing: Jack/Boone, Boone/Sawyer/Sayid

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: If we owned Lost or anything to do with it, we wouldn’t be bothering to write these stories, would we?

Summary: Boone worries about Jack, Jack is a total idiot, Boone is even more of an idiot, then Sawyer and Sayid are left to pick up the pieces.

A/N: *Sticks fingers in ears and talks very loudly* APRIL 6^th NEVER HAPPENED! NEVER, NEVER NEVER… I’M NOT LISTENING…

 

A/N 2: This has been done for a couple weeks, but we were unable to get it online until now. We appologize for the inconvenience... *grins* Enjoy!

 

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Boone watched Jack out of the corner of his eye. It was just too much effort to avoid the man, so he just tried to ignore him. Outwardly, at least.

 

It hurt Boone to see how awful Jack looked. Anyone could tell that he was worn to the bone. He probably wasn’t getting enough sleep. ‘He’s going to work himself to death,’ the younger man thought with a sigh. ‘If only there was some way I could help him, give him some peace…’ He closed his eyes, aching at his powerlessness. He couldn’t stand seeing Jack that haggard.

 

When he opened them again, the man was gone. Probably back to the caves to do more work. Boone shook his head. He needed rest; everyone said so. But Jack wouldn’t listen. ‘He’s going to hurt himself, and then I’ll be even more miserable. Oh, god, I’m such a whiny brat. This isn’t about me.’ The thought fueled his resolve. He WOULD find a way to help Jack.

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

Boone managed to catch him alone at dusk. He was standing in the middle of a clearing, staring up at the small circle of fading light. Boone let his eyes rake the man admiringly for a moment before he spoke. “I worry about you, Jack.”

 

The doctor whirled to face him. “Oh, Boone,” he said quietly. “You startled me.” He gave a small smile, then looked away.

 

“You look like shit, Jack. When was the last time you slept? I mean, decently, you know?”

 

“I’m fine,” Jack muttered, not meeting his eyes.

 

Boone walked up to him and placed firm hands on his shoulders. “No, you’re not. You’re exhausted, tense, and working way too hard. You need to rest, Jack. I… I know that… that I’m not helping things, that I make you uncomfortable, but…” His fingers tightened on Jack’s shoulders. “You’re so strong, Jack,” he whispered, “but you don’t have to be all the time. You don’t have to do everything.”

 

Jack shook his head. “I can take care of myself, Boone.”

 

“That’s what I’m talking about. You don’t have to. Not with me here.” He flushed. “I… I mean… Please, just let me help you. I don’t know how, but… just let me try.”

 

“You can’t, Boone,” Jack said quietly. “I… I should go.”

 

Boone gave a mirthless laugh. “Go and do what? We both know you’re not sleeping. And yeah, I’m sure you can think of a dozen things that need doing, but will it kill you to leave them for one fucking day? God, Jack, everyone can tell that you’re running on empty. And you’re so tense, so very, very tense…” He let his fingers brush Jack’s cheek, run across his jaw, down his neck. He longed to touch him everywhere, to learn every inch of that strong body with his fingertips. When the idea came to him, he nearly dismissed it as just another fantasy. But… it might work. “Jack,” he whispered, “close your eyes.”

 

Jack’s eyebrows drew together. “Boone, what—”

 

“Shh. Don’t say anything. Close your eyes.” Boone reached up and gently pushed Jack’s eyelids down. He moved closer to whisper in the other man’s ear. “Pretend that I’m someone else. Pretend… pretend that I’m Kate, or whoever it is you really want.” He put a finger over Jack’s lips, then slowly sank to his knees.

 

“Boone, I don’t want—”

 

“Shut up, Jack.” Boone could hear his voice breaking. “I’m going to make you relax if it kills me.” He reached to undo the button of the man’s jeans. Oh, god, it hurt so much. And he didn’t care. The thought of touching Jack, of giving him any kind of pleasure, was overwhelmingly arousing. He peeled the denim away from Jack’s body, gazing hungrily at the bare flesh that he might never see again. He gave a half smile as he noticed that Jack’s cock was already hardening. Either the doctor wanted him more than he was willing to admit, or his imagination was already working on overdrive. ‘Probably the second,’ Boone thought, trying to ignore the pain that lanced through his heart.

 

He wrapped his fingers around the aroused flesh, his eyes taking in the delicious shudder that ran through Jack’s body at the contact. ‘I love you, Jack,’ he thought, trying to hold back tears as he slid his lips around the man’s cock.

 

Boone stored each soft sound Jack made in his memory, knowing that they would fuel his dreams. He ran his tongue along the sensitive vein in a well practiced stroke. He might be damn near useless on the island, but at least he still had one skill he could be proud of. And he worked that skill to the utmost, teasing him, trying to make it last as long as possible. He needed to drive Jack into exhaustion.

 

Jack had managed to keep still through all of his ministrations; while Boone admired his control, this wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted Jack to wear himself out, so that the lack of energy, combined with the release of his long-held tensions would let him sleep peacefully for once. His fingers tightened on the man’s hips, drawing him forward, then pushing him back. ‘Come on, Jack,’ he thought. ‘Fuck my mouth. Let me see how you move so I can picture… so I can picture…’ He closed his eyes tightly, forcing back the pain. He had to focus on this, and forget the future. Tomorrow didn’t matter. Just tonight.

 

Jack moaned deep in his throat. His hands fell, one firmly grasping the back of Boone’s head, the other softly caressing his cheek. His voice was over Boone in a low, unintelligible murmur as he began thrusting forward.

 

‘That’s it, Jack. That’s good.’ He took the man in deep with practiced ease. ‘Come on, baby, move as fast as you want. I’m here for you to use.’ He clawed his fingers down Jack’s legs, urging him on.

 

“Oh, god, yes,” Jack said softly, his husky tone sending a tremor through Boone. The man kept thrusting harder and faster. His fingers tangled tightly in Boone’s hair. “You’re so… so… so beautiful,” he gasped breathlessly. “I… I love you.”

 

Boone’s hands curled into fists. ‘Lucky bitch,’ he thought in despair. ‘Oh, god, why couldn’t I have been born a woman? I’d be whatever Jack wants me to be, if only I could hear him say that. If only he’d look at me, stare deep into my eyes, and tell me he loves me.’ He could feel his heart cracking and tried to shake it off. He had known that this wouldn’t turn out all that great for him. He WOULD be fine. He would. Even if it killed him.

 

Boone could tell Jack was getting close; his thrusts were growing erratic. The young man’s hand dropped to his fly, then he stopped. No. Jack didn’t need to know how much he affected him. He placed his hands firmly back on Jack’s hips.

 

“Please,” Jack moaned desperately. “Oh, god, please…” Boone’s eyes fastened on his face. He needed to see… ‘Come on, baby,’ he thought. ‘Come for me, Jack.’ He slid his tongue urgently over his flesh, trying to give Jack the release he craved.

 

Jack threw his head back and gave a low, throaty groan as his muscles tightened and his seed spilled into Boone’s throat. He swallowed him down with habitual ease. Pulling away, he swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Sleep, Jack,” he whispered as he stood. “Go back to your cave and get some sleep.” He ducked into the trees and took off at a headlong run.

 

Boone tore through the jungle, stumbling over countless obstacles that the darkness and his tears hid from his sight. Eventually, worn out and wretched, he dropped to his knees and let out a tortured shriek, releasing all his self-hatred and heartache into the thick night air. Then, distraught and hopeless, the young man collapsed, curling fetally, wracked with broken sobs.

 

“Oh, god, it hurts,” he gasped. “It hurts. Oh, Jack, Jack, I love you.” He brought his hand up to his lips, the hand that he had used to clean his mouth off after… after… He let his tongue caress his flesh, carefully catching each drop that might still be there. He probably would never get the chance to taste that again.

 

Boone couldn’t believe that this much pain could exist, much less be crammed into one body. He couldn’t contain it; he knew it would burst out, tearing him to unrecognizable shreds. He couldn’t survive this much. He wanted to die. What was the point, anyway? He’d never get that close to Jack again. And who would miss him? Hell, even Shannon would find someone else to bitch at soon enough. He was useless here, just another mouth to feed. He didn’t know how to do anything, he didn’t have any skills. He might as well stop being a burden on all the others.

 

He slowly gathered the tattered shreds of his dignity and nerves around him and sat up. Yes. That’s what he’d do.

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

Boone made his way back to the clearing where he’d found Sawyer and Sayid a few days ago, praying that the man hadn’t found a new place to stash his stuff. If anyone had what he needed, it would be Sawyer. He breathed a sigh of relief as he pushed aside some branches to reveal the suitcase he’d seen. Apparently Sawyer trusted him. “Stupid bastard,” he muttered under his breath as he rummaged through the man’s possessions.

 

On top was a selection of little glass bottles. Boone picked one up at random and took a large gulp, almost choking as the strong liquor burned its way down his throat. He shoved the others around, still searching. There! His fingers closed around the old fashioned razor blade. He opened it carefully, admiring the reflected stars on the surface of the blade as he moved across the clearing. Setting his back against a tree, he slowly sank to the ground. ‘This is it,’ he thought, holding out his arm and gazing at it. He set the blade against his flesh with detached purpose. ‘Sweet dreams, my love.’

 

“Dammit, boy, what the hell do ya think you’re doin’?” A strong hand caught his wrist and another pulled the razor from his suddenly weak, unresisting fingers.

 

Boone stared in numb disbelief at the man kneeling in front of him. “S-Sawyer?” he choked out, overwhelmed with fresh tears.

 

“Shh, Boone,” Sawyer whispered, pulling him against his chest and holding him tightly. “It can’t be that bad. Nothin’s ever that bad. Come on, kid, talk to me.”

 

“Why do they say your heart breaks?” he murmured into the man’s shoulder. “Shattered is what it feels like. And I did it to myself…” He could feel his tears soaking into Sawyer’s shirt. “I ripped out my heart and held it for him to crush.” And suddenly it was all spilling out of his mouth, everything that had happened since he had approached Jack. He couldn’t stop shaking, even though Sawyer’s arms were reassuringly tight around him.

 

“Aw, kiddo, how’d ya get yourself inta this mess?” Sawyer ran his fingers through Boone’s hair. “Don’t you worry, I’m gonna have some words with the doc.”

 

“Sawyer, no. I just want to pretend it never happened.”

 

“And that’s why you were gonna splatter your blood all over my place?” Sawyer glared at him. “Jesus, Boone, I’m gonna teach that sonnuva bitch a lesson, whether you like it or not.”

 

Boone raised his hands to Sawyer’s shoulders. “Don’t leave me alone,” he whispered, leaning forward to brush the man’s lips with his own. “Please, Sawyer. You said… you said… Make me forget the pain. Just a little.” He tried to force his tongue into Sawyer’s mouth, desperately seeking forgetfulness and relief, but the other man pulled back.

 

“Whoa there, Metro. You heard what Sayid said, didn’t ya? You want me to lose my pride and joys?” He gave the young man a tender smile. “If you’re sure about this, we’ll go find us that gorgeous man, all right?”

 

Boone nodded silently and let Sawyer help him to his feet. He followed the man numbly across the clearing, stumbling when he released his hand. It was just too much effort to move. He stood there, arms wrapped around himself, with tears welling up in his eyes once more. “I… I can’t, Sawyer. It’s… I don’t want to see anyone. I’m… just tired. Can I stay here?”

 

Sawyer stared at him searchingly. “I’m not leavin’ ya alone unless you promise not to do another damn fool thing like that again.”

 

“I promise,” Boone whispered.

 

Then Sawyer’s hands were on his shoulders, gripping him tightly. His eyes burned with fierce insistence. “Know this, boy. If you break that promise, I will hunt your spirit down and make your afterlife a livin’ hell, ya hear me?”

 

He nodded. “I… I’m sorry, Sawyer. It… it just hurt so much…”

 

“Oh, I know, kiddo. I’m no stranger to pain.” He gave Boone a wry smile as he put an arm around the young man’s shoulders. “You just haveta keep goin’, is all. It’ll get better some day, Boone. I promise. If I can find love with Sayid, you definitely deserve happiness, or the world is so fucked up it ain’t even funny.” He moved to his suitcase and pulled out a blanket. “Make yourself comfy, boy,” he said, spreading it out on the ground. Then he pulled his shirt off and folded it. Before Boone could ask, he put it down like a pillow. “I’ll be back fast as I can.”

 

“Yeah.” Boone lay down and curled up again. He didn’t look as Sawyer tore down his hidden path. ‘Like I can ever find happiness without Jack,’ he thought bitterly. ‘What does he know?’ The shirt beneath his head was slowly becoming damp from his cold, silent tears. ‘Love is the cruelest fucking thing in the world. Oh, god, Jack, why? Why don’t you fucking love me?’ Sobs wracked his body in almost painful spasms. ‘What more can I do to make you want me?’

 

He lost track of time as he let his mind wander the paths of his misery. He could feel the darkness of the jungle pressing in around him, closing him off from the rest of the world, almost suffocating him. Despair threatened to crush him. He whimpered in desperation, clinging to the shirt Sawyer had left as his only link to the chance of hope.

 

“What did I tell you?” he heard through the haze of his grief. “That is one heart-achin’ youngster.”

 

A hand touched his cheek. “Boone,” Sayid murmured, voice tinged with concern. He said nothing else, merely moving his fingers slowly along his jaw in comforting patterns.

 

Boone’s arm struck like a snake, snatching Sayid’s hand to clutch at him with forlorn need. “Please,” he gasped brokenly. “Make the pain stop. Get him out of my head.”

 

“Oh, Boone,” Sayid whispered, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close. “If only we could. Healing will take time, child. And the pain may never completely vanish.” He pressed his lips gently to the young man’s cheek. “But we will do all we can to help for the moment,” he added softly.

 

“Sayid, the kid don’t want to hear that now,” Sawyer drawled as he worked his arms around Boone as well. “Let him get a bit of relief before facin’ the lifelong pain crap, ya hear?”

 

Boone opened his eyes to gaze at the two men with stunned amazement. He could hardly believe that Sawyer and Sayid, both so different than anyone he’d known before, could care so much about him as they obviously did. Maybe… maybe he did have something to live for after all. He gave a weak smile. “Thanks,” he whispered. “Thank you so much.”

 

“You are not alone, Boone,” Sayid murmured. “And pain shared is pain halved.” He sat back on his heels and pulled the younger man into a sitting position. His fingers caught under his chin. “What would you share with me, Boone?” he breathed huskily, leaning forward until their lips were nearly touching.

 

Boone moaned in desperation, his fingers curling tightly around the fabric of Sayid’s shirt. “Everything,” he gasped. “Take everything you want.” He could sense Sawyer moving in behind him, his hands gently circling to stroke his chest as his lips ghosted along his neck. He let his eyes slip closed with a sigh. “Please.”

 

Within seconds, Sayid’s mouth was on his, his tongue forcing its way inside. Boone shivered as the heat from Sayid and Sawyer’s lips and hands flowed through him, mingling in an intoxicating rush of almost healing bliss. He knew the pain was still there and would come roaring back all too soon, but he could ignore it for just a short while, at the very least.

 

He heard Sawyer cough softly behind him. “Uh, Sayid? How exactly do the three of us go about this? I… I ain’t never done this before.” His voice was rich with embarrassment, and Boone locked down his urge to laugh. It was hard to believe that he was more experienced than Sawyer at anything.

 

Slowly, Sayid pulled away. His eyes shone with unvoiced mirth as he gazed over Boone’s shoulder. “Do not worry, dear one,” he said, his hand reaching out to tenderly caress Sawyer’s cheek. “Just do as your instinct tells you, as always.” The Iraqi returned his attention, and his hands, to Boone, sliding his fingers down his chest and stomach to toy deftly with his fly. “First,” he purred, licking his lips, “I think we should all get undressed.” He released the button and slowly worked down the zipper. “And then,” he continued softly, “Boone must decide how he wants us.” His hand pushed under the waistband of his boxers to close around his already hard cock.

 

Boone moaned and closed his eyes. “What do you want, Boone?” Sayid whispered against his ear. “Sawyer only bottoms for me, but I am sure he is willing to do anything else you could possibly desire. As am I.”

 

“Oh, god,” he gasped, the sensations radiating from Sayid’s firm hand making it nearly impossible for him to think. As the words slowly sank in, an intriguing notion boiled up in his mind. “What about you, Sayid? Would you bottom for me?” he whispered hesitantly.

 

“If you wish it.”

 

“You…” Boone’s tongue flicked out across his dry lips. “And… and Sawyer can fuck me til I scream, ok?”

 

“No problem there, boy,” Sawyer drawled in his ear. “I’m really good at that, ain’t I, darlin’?” He reached around Boone to tenderly caress Sayid’s cheek. Boone pushed back a flash of envy and broken dreams of Jack touching him like that.

 

Sayid smiled. “You are. But you are also an arrogant son of a bitch at times.” He chuckled softly. Standing, he turned his back to the other two and lifted his shirt over his head. He kicked off his shoes, then slowly stepped out of his pants and underwear. Looking over his shoulder, he smiled sultrily. “Well?” he murmured.

 

Boone stared, too mesmerized by the gleam of the moonlight on Sayid’s dusky skin to answer. After a moment, there was a soft slap to the back of his head. “You cut that out,” Sawyer laughed. “He’s mine. And I think the man just gave us an order.”

 

Sawyer stood, then reached down to pull Boone’s shirt over his head. The young man shivered slightly as the air caressed his uncovered flesh. He slowly got to his knees, then turned and ran his fingers down Sawyer’s chest in feather-light caresses. When he reached the waistband of his jeans, he smiled wickedly up at him and trailed his fingers along it, occasionally easing them beneath it teasingly.

 

Sawyer growled playfully as he caught Boone’s hands. “Boy, you are just askin’ for trouble, ain’t ya?”

 

Boone gave him a look of mock terror and pulled his hands free. He quickly undid Sawyer’s pants and pushed them to the ground.

 

The man kicked them to the side. “We’re waitin’ on you now, blue eyes,” he chuckled.

 

Boone laughed softly and wriggled out of his pants. “That better?”

 

“Yep,” the older man said with a grin. “Right, Sayid?”

 

“Yes,” the Iraqi breathed. “Innumerably better.” He stepped closer and drew Boone to his feet. His hands grasped his hips, pulling the younger man firmly against him. They both moaned as their aroused flesh rubbed together. Sayid’s teeth closed gently around his earlobe. “Boone,” he whispered. “How do you want me? On my back, on my knees, against a tree, whatever you wish.”

 

“I, uh…” Boone swallowed, his mind racing. He wasn’t really used to being asked to make decisions like that. It was… exhilarating. Intoxicating. It made him feel like he was all the world. So he made a choice. “On your back,” he purred. “I want to see your face.”

 

Sayid’s eyes drifted closed, and his tongue slid sensuously across his lips. He slowly lowered himself to the ground and lay back, spreading his legs wide. “Take me, then,” he said in a low, needy voice.

 

Boone stood immobile, staring in entrancement. Sayid was a beautiful, almost godlike man. And that man wanted him. Out of pity and friendship instead of love, yes, but it was genuine. Not… not like Jack. Anything real was better than whatever lies Jack was telling himself. Sawyer and Sayid’s tangible friendship was worth more than Jack’s ethereal love. He would force himself to believe that.

 

“Come on, boy, get a move on,” Sawyer growled suddenly with a soft smack to Boone’s backside. “If you ain’t gonna take advantage of that, I sure as hell will.”

 

Boone grinned sheepishly over his shoulder. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. As you command, sir.”

 

“Stop bein’ a smartass and get down there, wouldja?” The man gave him a playful shove.

 

Sayid propped himself on his elbows and grinned up at him, peering through half lidded eyes. “Don’t let Sawyer tell you what to do, Boone. He is not your master, is he? Of course he is not. You are the master. And you do not let upstarts like him speak to you like that.”

 

Sawyer growled at him, then ruffled Boone’s hair. “Sorry, kid. Whatever he says, you ain’t my master. I’m an independent contractor.”

 

“You two are insane,” Boone whispered. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He knelt between Sayid’s legs and grabbed his hand, reaching back towards Sawyer with his other hand. “I’ve never had friends as good as you.” He could feel his throat tightening with grateful tears.

 

“Shut up, boy,” Sawyer muttered. “I’m not… damn it, we are friends, ain’t we? How the hell did that happen?”

 

The urge to cry vanished, replaced with an even harder to repress urge to howl with laughter. When he met Sayid’s eyes, all restraint crumbled, and they both began snickering uncontrollably. “I… I probably tricked you into it,” he gasped.

 

“That’s probably the only way you would manage it,” Sayid chuckled. He yanked on Boone’s arm, pulling him down on top of him. “Now,” he murmured, “as a very romantic man I know once said, ‘Are you going to stop being a jackass and fuck me?’” He shot a wicked grin at Sawyer, then slid his hand behind Boone’s neck, pulling him down for a hungry kiss.

 

Boone barely heard Sawyer’s caustic snort as Sayid plundered his mouth. It was so wonderful to be touched, to be wanted, to feel something other than pain… He closed his eyes as Sawyer moved in behind him, stroking his back with his strong hands. Their combined attentions were threatening to overwhelm him utterly. He surrendered to it whole-heartedly, aching for the promised oblivion.

 

Wordlessly, he pushed into Sayid, taking the relief the other man offered so willingly. He groaned softly as he moved, the tight heat of the man’s body sending shudders of intense pleasure coursing through him. Boone gave a few more thrusts, reveling in the sensations, the control, the sounds Sayid made when he hit that special spot… It was amazing, incredible, but… not exactly what his body had been craving. He stilled, clinging to Sayid for a long moment. “Sawyer,” he gasped, “please…”

 

“I’m here, boy.” Boone felt Sawyer’s hands on his hips. “How do you want this? Do you want me to be gentle?”

 

Boone’s heart contracted painfully. “No,” he whispered. “No.” Jack would have been soft, sweet… loving. He needed Sawyer to be everything that Jack wasn’t. “Use me, Sawyer. Hurt me.”

 

“Whatever you say, kid,” The man murmured softly. Boone felt the grip on his hips tighten until he was sure he’d have hand shaped bruises there later. His breathing grew heavier as Sawyer held him still for a long moment. Just that and nothing more until Boone was ready to scream in frustration. He needed Sawyer, and he needed to move. The feel of Sayid’s body surrounding him was agonizingly wonderful. The waiting was killing him. Why was Sawyer torturing him like this?

 

All was overwhelmed in a mindless rush of pain and ecstatic heat as the man drove into him, the force of his entry pushing Boone deeper into Sayid’s tight passage. Sawyer thrust again, filling him as he’d ached to be filled. It was as close to perfect as he could ever get. He closed his eyes and rode the waves of euphoric pleasure as he let Sawyer guide his movements, rocking fiercely with him against Sayid. Flames licked his body, threatening to consume him.

 

A spectre, an intangible shadow of a memory, danced across the back of Boone’s eyelids, and he forced his eyes open. There was no way in hell he was going to picture Jack now… not even as he’d looked tonight, head thrown back in orgasmic bliss. A shudder ran through Boone as the memory intensified, forcing itself into his consciousness despite all his silent protestations: Jack’s hand in his hair, his taste flooding his mouth, his voice murmuring those words. ‘I love you,’ the ghost of a dream whispered. ‘I love you, Boone.’

 

A scream erupted from deep inside him as climax wracked his body. He held himself still, shaking from exertion and emotional stress, as Sawyer gave a last thrust and slowly pulled away. Boone looked up as Sayid gave a pleading moan and realized with embarrassment that he’d been to wrapped up in himself to… He reached a trembling hand towards the man’s erection, but was stopped by a tight hold on his wrist.

 

“Don’t you worry about that, blue eyes. I’ll take care of him. You rest.” Sawyer gently pushed Boone down on the blanket and turned to grin wickedly at Sayid. The young man watched as Sawyer ran a finger slowly along Sayid’s cock. “What do ya want, darlin’?” he purred. “Do ya want me to wrap my fingers around your dick and oh so slowly stroke you until ya beg me for release, or,” he paused, licking his lips suggestively, “would ya like somethin’ else?”

 

Sayid choked back a whimper and caught his wrist. “Please, Sawyer, do not tease me,” he said quietly.

 

Sawyer lowered his head. “Sorry, baby,” he whispered, his breath wafting across Sayid’s heated flesh. Then he slowly, almost hesitantly, Boone thought, wrapped his lips around the man’s cock.

 

Sayid’s fingers brushed lightly across Sawyer’s cheek before finding a hold in his hair. “Sawyer,” he groaned, his eyes drifting closed.

 

Boone gazed at them through a haze of exhaustion as Sawyer pulled away, choking slightly and wiping off his mouth. ‘He needs practice,’ the young man thought absently. ‘I’m sure Sayid will give him some,’ he added with a small smile.

 

Sawyer rolled to lie between the other two. “Now,” he said with quiet purpose, “I’m gonna deal with Jack.”

 

“No,” Sayid stated firmly, “you are not.”

 

Sawyer raised himself to rest on an elbow, glaring at his lover. “I fucking well am! Just look—”

 

“No, Sawyer, you are not going tonight. Because we are not leaving Boone alone, and I am going with you.”

 

The other man’s glare got hotter, if that could indeed be possible. “I don’t need no babysitter, Sayid. I ain’t gonna do anythin’ stupid.”

 

Sayid said nothing, but the look on his face clearly stated his disbelief.

 

“I don’t need a babysitter either,” muttered Boone. “But you’re not going to tell Jack anyth—”

 

“Shut up, pretty boy.”

 

“Boone,” Sayid interrupted, “you tried to kill yourself. We are not leaving you alone.”

 

“And I’m gonna beat the crap out of that goddamn asshole.”

 

“Sawyer, silence.” Sayid’s voice was rich with exasperation. “In the morning, we can go talk to Jack. Civilly. But Boone needs to sleep, and you need to watch him. And I will not be happy if you sneak away. Do you understand me?”

 

“Yes,” Sawyer growled.

 

“Good.” The Iraqi placed a hand on his cheek. “Trust me, Sawyer, we do not want to do anything rash.”

 

“Whatever.” He pulled away with a shrug and turned to Boone. “Ya doin’ ok, kiddo?”

 

He nodded, then grabbed Sawyer’s hand. “Please don’t hurt Jack,” he whispered. “It—it wasn’t his fault.”

 

Sawyer narrowed his eyes. “You can’t really believe—”

 

“Yes.” Boone’s voice was frigid.

 

“Ok, sheesh. You two are fuckin’ nuts. I’d want to slice him open if he did that ta me, but…”

 

“He didn’t do anything.” Boone rolled over, turning his back to them. His body shook with tears that he refused to shed. He felt one of the others pull a blanket over him and murmured something unintelligible in thanks. He curled into a ball, screwing his eyes tightly shut. He tried to clear his mind of thought, but he knew that his dreams would be tortured. “Goodnight, Jack,” he whispered. “S-sleep well, love.”