Title: Conception
Author: Diandra Hollman
Feedback: Would love it! diandrahollman@gmail.com
Website: http://diandrahollman.neocities.org/
Date Finished: 5/4/2010
Rating: R average with a few spots of NC-17
Keywords: See part 1.
Spoilers: Follows cannon, sometimes loosely, sometimes very 
    closely, from the season one finale through season four. 
Disclaimer: See part 1. They’re not mine. Shocker.
Archive: E-mail me and I'll let you know when I finish it.
Summary: See part 1.
Author's Notes: Working knowledge of the show and  
    character's backgrounds (as seen in flashbacks) as well 
    as several major (and some minor) plot points from all 
    seasons is assumed.
    
    All cannon dialogue from this section is from seasons 3 
    and 4. Narrative interpretation of thoughts, facial 
    expressions and actions as well as any filler scenes, 
    changes in timeline or references to Jack being 
    pregnant are mine. Christine is mine also.

Conception – part 3
By Diandra Hollman 


***********

Sawyer was just finishing his victory beer when a shout came 
from down the beach. He stiffened and reached for his newly 
acquired – or maybe reaquired – gun as he saw Desmond run 
toward them.

Hurley got to him first. “Dude, what’s going on? Where’s 
Charlie?”

“It’s not Penny’s boat,” Desmond blurted, breathless from his 
mad sprint back to camp.

Sawyer frowned. “Who the hell’s Penny?”

Hurley seemed to understand. “Are you sure?”

Desmond nodded.

The walkie burst to life again before Sawyer could demand to 
know what the hell they were talking about.

“Hurley, are you there,” Kate barked urgently.

Hurley startled and picked up the walkie again. “Yeah, Kate. 
Did you contact the boat already?”

“No, we...we can’t. We’re going to have to use the radio 
tower...”

Desmond snatched the walkie from Hurley’s hand. “Kate, don’t 
signal the boat yet. They may not be here to rescue us.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Naomi said she was working for Penelope Widmore. She lied. 
Just...trust me. Don’t contact the boat.”

Kate’s sigh was strained. “All right, fine. That’s not 
important right now. Jack’s injured. He can walk, but I’m not 
sure how far. We need a stretcher.”

Sawyer stiffened. Juliet seemed to suddenly appear beside him, 
her hand on his arm the only thing keeping him from 
thoughtlessly taking off in the direction of the radio tower.

Hurley frowned. “What do you mean injured?”

“He was shot. We got the bullet out and stitched him up and he 
says it didn’t hit anything major but he lost a lot of 
blood...”

Juliet held out her hand. “Let me talk to her,” she said 
urgently. Hurley handed her the walkie easily. “Kate, is he 
disoriented at all?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Is he pale and sweating?”

“Well yeah...and he’s tired, but...”

“Don’t move him.” She cursed under her breath and rubbed at her 
forehead. “He lost a lot of blood in the delivery and he hasn’t 
had enough time to fully recuperate. We’ll bring the stretcher 
to you and take him to the medical station. We’ll probably need 
to do a transfusion.”

“Dude, we’ve been through this before,” Hurley interrupted. 
“Nobody knows their blood type.”

Kate heard him. “But Jack’s is universal, right? That’s how he 
was able to...”

“No,” Juliet blurted. “A universal donor is not the same as a 
universal recipient. If you give him anything other than his 
blood type it’ll kill him.”

Sawyer clenched his jaw so hard it began to ache.

“You people seem to know so much about us, I suppose you know 
who has his bloodtype,” Kate sneered.

Juliet closed her eyes and nodded. “Yes. I know of a couple.”

Sawyer’s patience finally ran out. “What the hell’re we 
standin’ around here yappin’ for? Where’s that stretcher?”

*******

The van took them most of the way back up the mountain. It was 
the last couple miles of walking that made Sawyer want to crawl 
right out of his skin.

The sound of a baby crying was the first thing to greet them, 
followed closely by the smell of blood. Sawyer spared a glance 
at his daughter, whose cries of distress Claire was attempting 
to soothe. She was obviously unhurt, though, and with that 
assurance he moved past her to kneel beside Jack. Kate already 
knelt opposite him, clutching Jack’s hand like a lifeline and 
seemingly seconds from crying.

“Jesus.” There hadn’t been that much blood after he’d been 
shot, had there? He leaned closer and patted Jack’s cheek 
roughly. “Doc, you with me?”

Pained, too bright eyes fluttered open and strained to focus on 
Sawyer. “Chrissy...”

Sawyer glanced back at the group, suddenly realizing that 
Christine’s cries had died down, and saw Claire nursing her, 
her small face concealed by a loosely draped blanket. “She’s 
fine.” He returned his attention to Jack, whose eyes were 
falling shut again. “Hey, don’t go checking out on me.”

Jack groaned softly and forced the threatening darkness aside.

Juliet finished giving instructions to Sayid and Rousseau and 
knelt behind Jack’s head. “Jack, we’re going to put you on a 
stretcher. Just stay still and let us move you.”

Jack nodded. Kate reluctantly let go of his hand and stood to 
retrieve the stretcher as Juliet carefully rearranged his arms 
on top of his chest. Sawyer was momentarily distracted as 
Claire let out a wail. He looked up to find Desmond and Hurley 
trying to console her, the big guy fighting back tears of his 
own.

“James!”

Sawyer’s attention snapped back to Juliet. 

“I need you to focus,” Juliet continued calmly. “I need you to 
carefully slide your arms under his shoulders but don’t lift 
until I tell you.”

Sawyer slipped his arms beneath Jack’s upper body as 
instructed, being careful to avoid the bloodied shoulder and 
ignoring the pained noises the movement drew from the doctor. 
“Easy darlin’,” he muttered in Jack’s ear. “Just let us do the 
drivin’.”

Sayid and Rousseau took their places behind him, getting into 
position to lift Jack’s lower back and legs and guide the 
stretcher beneath him. Juliet supported his head and neck and 
nodded at Kate.

“Okay, on three,” she ordered. “One, two, three...”

A soft, pained cry erupted from Jack as the group lifted him a 
few inches from the ground, his arms instinctively moving 
against Sawyer’s chest where they were securely pinned. Kate 
shoved the stretcher under him, Sayid helping her position it 
quickly. Sawyer’s breath caught as Jack suddenly stopped moving 
and went limp in his arms.

“Okay, down. Slowly,” Juliet ordered and they eased him onto 
the stretcher.

“What happened,” Sawyer demanded. 

Juliet – fingers already pressed to Jack’s throat – shook her 
head. “It’s okay. He just passed out. We have to get him to the 
hatch.” She stood, an air of urgency about her.

“I’m coming with you,” Kate announced.

“No,” Juliet said firmly. “You need to get all of these people 
back to your camp. They should be safe there for now.”

Kate’s eyes flashed. “I’m not just leaving him.”

“Kate,” Juliet snapped. “They need you right now. I’ve spent 
enough time with your people to know that if Jack’s gone they 
will look to you.” She took a steadying breath. “Take the 
walkie. I’ll contact you when we know more.”

Sayid stood and put a hand on her shoulder. “She is right, 
Kate,” he said gently.

Juliet turned her attention back on getting Jack to the medical 
hatch. 
“Hurley, you and Sawyer take the stretcher.”

Sawyer didn’t even think to protest Hurley’s inclusion in the 
mission, or Juliet’s authority over the situation. He just 
moved to grab the head of the stretcher.

“Take Sun with you,” Kate piped up. “She helped Jack when Boone 
was...” The word “dying” crossed her mind, but she couldn’t 
bring herself to say it out loud.

Juliet nodded and made a bee-line for the group as Sawyer and 
Hurley started moving back the way they had come. “Claire, you 
need to come with us.”

Claire looked up, dazed, streaks of tears staining her cheeks.

Kate was close on Juliet’s heels. “Wait, why do you need her?”

“Because I am only certain of the blood types of six people on 
this island,” Juliet explained impatiently. “Her blood is a 
match if and when we need to do a transfusion.” 

Kate’s eyes narrowed, her voice dropping to a near growl. “You 
said she had a virus in her bloodstream.”

Juliet’s eyes darted to Ben, who was just beginning to regain 
consciousness. “I lied. I’m sorry. I didn’t have a choice.”

“How do we know you’re not lying now?”

Juliet fixed Kate’s firey eyes with her own. “Because I don’t 
want Jack to die any more than you do.”

Claire looked down at Christine, who squirmed restlessly in her 
arms, whimpering, and nodded slowly. “All right.”

Juliet nodded, relieved, and looked behind Claire to Sun, 
bouncing Aaron anxiously in her arms. “Let’s go.”

*******

“That bug-eyed bastard do this?” Sawyer demanded as the van 
bumped along slowly. He wanted to yell at Hurley to drive 
faster but Juliet had already warned them against jostling 
Jack’s wound too much.

“Locke shot him,” Sun replied simply.

Sawyer stiffened and immediately forced himself to relax as 
Christine stirred in his arms and made distressed noises. “Son 
of a bitch,” he growled.

“I do not think he meant to hurt Jack,” Sun said cautiously. 
“He said he didn’t want to shoot him. I think it was a 
mistake.”

“A *mistake*?!”

“I am not saying what he did was not wrong. I think he only 
meant to frighten Jack.”

Sawyer snorted but fell silent for a minute, looking down at 
Jack, laid out on the floor in front of them, then at 
Christine. “If he dies...”

Juliet reached back from the front passenger seat to put a hand 
on his arm. “He won’t,” she said firmly. 

“Are you sure my blood will match,” Claire asked, startling 
everyone. She had been silent and listless since they had 
departed from the rest of the group.

Juliet smiled softly. “I’m positive. You’re type O negative – 
the same as your father.”

Claire stiffened. “What do you know about my father?”

Juliet hesitated, realization flashing in her eyes. “You don’t 
know.”

“Know what?”

Juliet sighed. “How much do you know about your father, 
Claire?”

Claire frowned. “I know he’s a doctor. I know he has a 
family...that my mother was the other woman. I didn’t want to 
know more.”

“Yes, Claire, he had another family. He had a wife and a son. 
They didn’t know about you – they didn’t know that he sent 
money to your mother and flew out to Australia to see you.”

Claire’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know all of this?”

“The same way I know that he died about nine months ago,” 
Juliet said gently. “He had a heart attack, Claire.”

Claire brushed a flyaway strand of hair back and sniffled 
softly as the information slowly sank in. “I didn’t even know 
his name.”

Juliet smiled kindly. “His name was Christian. Christian 
Shephard.”

Sawyer’s head shot up. “You sayin’ she’s Jack’s sister?”

Juliet nodded. “Half sister, yes.”

Claire gaped at Juliet in shock.

“Dude,” Hurley muttered, mostly to himself. “No way.”

“I’m sorry, Claire. I thought you knew.”

Claire looked at the baby curled in Sawyer’s arms and then at 
Jack. “He said he had a family,” she repeated, dazed.

Juliet turned to look through the windshield and pointed. 
“That’s it, right up there,” she murmured to Hurley. 

“You sure about this,” Sawyer asked dumbly. He had only met 
Christian once and briefly at that, but the old man had only 
talked about his son. He hadn’t mentioned another child. ‘Why 
did he say he was in Australia? Personal business?’

Juliet’s eyes met his. “Yes. Claire is the best match. But 
Claire can only give him so much of her blood safely. If it’s 
not enough, I am also a type match.” The van stopped and she 
threw open the door. “We’re here.”

*******

The first thing Jack noticed when he regained consciousness was 
the distinct lack of jungle noises, beeping alarms or the 
creaking and groaning of a structure surrounded by water. He 
frowned when he realized he couldn’t hear anything else; no 
heart monitors, no voices, nothing. He struggled to open his 
eyes. Something moved beside him and a hand touched his 
shoulder.

“Jack,” a familiar voice called hopefully. 

He tried to reply, but all that came out was a breathy, 
indistinct noise. 

There was a sudden movement and the voice muttered “hang on, 
I’ll get you some water.” A second later a hand lifted his head 
carefully and a glass was pressed to his lips. He took a couple 
of greedy swallows and coughed. 

“Claire?” He fought to open his eyes. They felt like lead 
weights.

His head was carefully lowered and the hand brushed over his 
cheek fleetingly. “Yeah, I’m here. You’re all right.”

His eyes opened barely a slit and he flinched as light poured 
in, making them sting and water instantly. But he saw enough to 
recognize the bedroom he had spent a week recovering from 
childbirth in.

“We’re still on the island,” he noted dejectedly.

“Kate and Sayid are working on getting us rescued. Don’t worry 
about that.”

He frowned slightly as she continued touching him absently, 
checking for fever and assuring herself that he was really 
going to be okay now.

She caught his confusion and retreated suddenly. “I should get 
Sawyer,” she babbled, already halfway to the door.

He blinked at the ceiling a few times – fighting back the 
lingering grogginess and taking stock of his condition. A sharp 
throbbing radiated from his shoulder. His arm was bandaged to 
his torso crudely to keep him from moving it too much. He was 
also pretty sure he could feel the beginnings of a pressure 
sore forming on his back. He tried to tentatively shift his 
weight and hissed, eyes slamming shut as the pain in his 
shoulder increased. He didn’t notice anyone entering the room 
until he felt a familiar hand on his cheek. He opened his eyes 
and Sawyer’s smiling face swam into view above him.

“Welcome back,” he said softly. His smile faded as he read the 
pain lining Jack’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Help me...turn over,” Jack gasped, gesturing weakly.

Sawyer muttered something under his breath and moved to Jack’s 
injured side, sliding his arms beneath his back and coaxing him 
into a sitting position. Jack slung his good arm around 
Sawyer’s back and moaned as the world rotated nauseatingly.

Sawyer hesitated. “Dizzy?”

Jack started to nod, but thought better of it. “Yeah,” he 
muttered.

Sawyer pressed Jack’s head to his shoulder. “Close your eyes.”

Jack did so gratefully and breathed deeply. “How long was I 
out,” he asked, hoping to distract himself from the nausea.

“Barely a day. You shouldn’t be up yet.”

Jack made an absent noise of acknowledgement, clenching his 
fingers in Sawyer’s shirt spasmodically and sighing as Sawyer’s 
own cool fingers massaged the back of his neck.

They sat like that for a few silent minutes before Sawyer spoke 
again. “Don’t go fallin’ asleep on me now. I ain’t gonna sit 
like this all day.”

Jack made a small grunting noise. “Then help me down.”

With a fluid ease that almost rivaled some of the nurses Jack 
had worked with, Sawyer managed to shift around behind him, 
shunt him toward one side of the bed, and carefully lower him 
on his right side. He took care to avoid jostling the injured 
shoulder, but that didn’t stop the bolt of fire from shooting 
through it anyway, making Jack suck in a pained breath and 
close his eyes tightly.

Sawyer was back in front of him, crouching so his face was 
level with Jack’s. “Bad?”

Jack grunted. Of course the pain was bad. But he could handle 
it. His eyes flew open as Sawyer moved away, but before he 
could rally enough energy to complain vocally the Southerner 
was back, a needle and bottle of some sort of painkiller in his 
hands.

“I’m fine,” Jack forced out between breaths. 

“Sure y’are,” Sawyer retorted, filling the syringe. “Ice 
Queen’s been givin’ me lessons. Got some pretty ugly bruises 
from lettin’ me practice on her. She said this stuff’s pretty 
mild, so you can keep nursin’ Chrissy soon’s you’re up to it.” 
He put the bottle down and started feeling for a vein in Jack’s 
good arm. Jack summoned the energy to make a fist and winced as 
Sawyer jabbed the needle into his skin clumsily.

“Sorry,” Sawyer muttered, depressing the plunger and pulling 
the needle out quickly, tossing it on the nearby table.

Jack closed his eyes and tried to relax, sighing as Sawyer 
massaged his arm soothingly. 

“You wanna explain to me how I walked into a firefight unarmed 
and *you’re* the one that got shot?”

Jack huffed tiredly. “Just lucky, I guess,” he mumbled.

Sawyer squeezed his hand. “Yeah, well, you scared the hell 
outta me. Don’t you go doin’ somethin’ like that again. Y’hear 
me?”

Jack grunted softly and smiled, already feeling the numbing 
pull of the drug. Before he slipped under, he felt Sawyer’s 
lips brush his.

“I’m gonna get you off this island, Doc. You and Chrissy.”

***********

Claire sat on the edge of the bed, nervously fingering the 
edges of a photograph Jack couldn’t see.

“Is something wrong,” he asked uncertainly.

“No,” she answered quickly. “I mean...I ah...I just found out 
my father died.”

Jack winced. Sawyer had already told him about Charlie.

“I barely knew him,” she continued before he could offer 
sympathy. “My mother told me he died when I was two.” She took 
a deep breath and finally looked up at Jack. “There was an 
accident when I was nineteen and my mum went into a coma. 
That’s when I met him. He just...showed up and took care of her 
medical bills. He was a doctor and he said she would never wake 
up.” Her voice cracked. “I was so angry I told him I never 
wanted to see him again.”

Claire looked at the picture in her hand. “I never knew my 
dad’s name, but I remember his face.” She handed the photo to 
Jack.

Part of Jack knew instinctively before he even looked down 
whose face would be in the photo but he still felt his breath 
catch in his chest when he saw his father’s blue eyes staring 
back at him from his familiar hospital ID photo.

“Juliet found that in your file. I didn’t know...”

He shook his head, blinking back building tears. “He would 
disappear...for days at a time. I thought he might be having an 
affair, but...”

“The affair was over years ago,” Claire rushed to say. “He said 
he visited me but I don’t remember. Mum told me he would sing 
me to sleep. Always the same song...”

“’Catch a Falling Star’,” Jack murmured absently. “Yeah...me 
too.”

Claire placed a tentative hand on his knee. “Can I ask...how he 
died?”

Jack shook his head and wiped away a stray tear. “He uh...he 
was an alcoholic. He drank way too much and had a heart attack. 
He...his body was on the plane. I was taking him back to bury 
him.”

Claire’s eyes widened. “He was in Australia?”

“He was there for a week. I thought maybe he was having an 
affair but I guess he was visiting you.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t even know he was...” Realization 
came over her. “Aunt Lindsey. Of course. She didn’t tell me.” 
She blinked back her own slowly forming tears. “But why now? He 
didn’t know I was pregnant. Why would he want to see me?”

“Because I betrayed him,” Jack blurted, tossing the photo 
toward the nearest flat surface. “I accused him of sleeping 
with my ex-wife and I got him fired. Obviously he gave up on 
ever having a normal relationship with me and thought he could 
start over with you.”

Clare gaped, stunned.

“That ain’t true and you know it,” a voice said suddenly from 
the doorway.

Claire’s eyes snapped, startled, to Sawyer leaning against the 
doorframe. A tear spilled down her cheek and she quickly 
brushed it away. “Where are the children?”

“They’re asleep,” Sawyer assured, walking into the room.

“How long have you been listening?”

“Long enough.” He perched on the other side of the bed and took 
Jack’s face firmly in his hands. “Your daddy was proud o’ you. 
He said hisself you did the right thing, gettin’ him fired.”

“You met our father,” Claire asked dizzily.

Sawyer nodded, barely glancing at her from the corner of his 
eye. 

Jack didn’t notice, too absorbed in his renewed grief. “I 
killed him.”

Sawyer sighed and drew Jack into his arms.

“No, Doc, I killed him. I bought him that last drink. You gotta 
blame somebody, blame me.”

“He had a lot more than one drink,” Jack mumbled into Sawyer’s 
neck.

“Because he fucked up and he knew it. It ain’t your fault. He 
loved you. He loved both a you.” He glanced at Claire. 
Christian hadn’t said anything about a daughter, but he figured 
the fact that he traveled all the way to Australia to see her 
had to count for something.

Jack huffed. “You know he never actually said those words to 
me? I had to hear it from you.”

Sawyer held back a groan. “That don’t mean he didn’t mean ‘em.” 
He looked over at Claire, who had grown quiet suddenly. “You 
all right there, sweetheart?”

She started and blew out a breath. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She 
reached out a hand tentatively, resting it on Jack’s good arm. 
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have...”

Jack pried himself from Sawyer. “No. You didn’t do anything.” 
He laughed hollowly and wiped some moisture from his cheek. “I 
just wish he hadn’t kept so many secrets from me. I’m finding 
out more about him now than I did when he was alive.”

Claire made a small noise that sounded like a snort. “You knew 
him better than I did.”

A loud cry from the makeshift nursery interrupted them. 

Sawyer groaned and muttered a curse under his breath. “Just got 
them settled...”

“I’ve got it,” Claire said quickly, leaping from the bed and 
darting from the room. 

Sawyer took in Jack’s dazed expression and squeezed his elbow 
gently. “You okay, there?”

“I have a sister,” Jack mumbled. On a clinical level he knew he 
had gotten over his initial anger and had moved on to a sort of 
shocked numbness. He had always known his parents’ relationship 
was rocky at best. Knowing Christian had cheated on his mother 
wasn’t all that surprising, really...though every conversation 
they’d ever had regarding Jack’s own collapsing marriage 
suddenly took on a whole new meaning. But to have living proof 
of it twenty years later – long after the affair was over...

Sawyer squeezed again, the gesture somehow comforting. “Give it 
some time.”

Claire came back in the room, cooing to the unhappy baby in her 
arms. “It’s all right, sweetie, Daddy’s here...”

Jack instinctively tried to hold his arms out, wincing slightly 
in discomfort as the left one was pulled short by the bandage 
and throbbed warningly.

Claire carefully deposited Christine into his arms, where she 
immediately began making sucking motions. 

Sawyer, recognizing the blatant signal, reached to help Jack 
unbutton his shirt. “Yours still sleepin’,” he asked.

“Aaron was born on this island,” Claire said with a small 
laugh. “He can sleep through anything.” She watched Christine 
settle contentedly once she was nursing. “Do you suppose the 
Dharma Initiative had breast pumps?”

Sawyer snorted. “Wouldn’t doubt it. Ask Nurse Ratched.”

Jack just stared at Claire, barely hearing their conversation, 
his mind spinning. “Where is your mother now?”

Claire’s face fell. “She’s still in a coma.”

Jack nodded and shifted his hold on his daughter carefully, 
holding back a wince. 

“I mean...I guess she is. I haven’t seen her in a year...”

“So why were you going to Los Angeles?”

Claire faltered and visibly steeled herself. “I...*was* going 
to give Aaron up for adoption. But now...”

Jack pieced this information with the fragments he’d heard her 
say before and decided she probably hadn’t had any ulterior 
motive in this. It was all just some sort of crazy coincidence 
that they were on the same flight that crashed on the same 
island. “So what now?”

Claire reeled, thrown by the abrupt shifts in the conversation. 
“I don’t know. I mean, I just found out my dad’s dead and our 
resident doctor is the brother I never met. I don’t know what 
to do with that but seeing as I just lost Charlie to this crazy 
island I figured I could use a big brother right about now.”

Sawyer reached for her instinctively, rubbing her back 
consolingly, mentally cursing Christian for leaving such a mess 
of a legacy.

Jack faltered. “I’m sorry, Claire, I just...I had no idea my 
father had a daughter. I need time to adjust...”

Claire took a deep, trembling breath and blinked rapidly. 
“Yeah. I know. I understand.” She had needed time to adjust to 
the knowledge too, hadn’t she? “I’m sorry. There’s just so many 
secrets on this island and I don’t want this to be another 
one.”

“Hey...” Sawyer pulled her into a hug. *He* sure as hell didn’t 
need any more time to accept her new role in Jack’s life. 
“Don’t worry, he’ll come around,” he whispered in her ear.

She nodded, sniffing lightly and brushing her cheeks as they 
separated. “I suppose this makes you my brother-in-law. Sort 
of.”

“Ah...” Sawyer glanced at Christine. “Well...long’s we ain’t 
keepin’ secrets...”

“Yes,” Jack interrupted. “I guess it does.”

Sawyer’s confusion and mild irritation melted when he saw the 
determined look on Jack’s face. He wasn’t lying to protect a 
secret – he didn’t even think of it as a lie anymore. As far as 
he was concerned, Sawyer was Christine’s father. The details 
were complicated and unimportant and didn’t change that fact. 
Sawyer noticed Christine’s head lolling and held his arms out. 
“Why don’t you let me take ‘er and you two can talk?”

Jack nodded and handed Christine over easily, a warm expression 
flitting across his face as Sawyer brushed a kiss over his 
lips.

Sawyer smiled lovingly at him before turning his attention to 
their daughter. “Okay, baby girl, snack time’s over. Let’s get 
you back to bed.” He held her so her head rested on his 
shoulder and rubbed her back as he slipped out the door.

“What was that about,” was the last thing he heard Claire say 
as he made his way down the hall.

***********

Sawyer leaned on the doorframe and watched Jack and Claire do 
dishes. He had no idea what they were talking about – something 
that seemed to happen more and more frequently since they had 
discovered their relationship to each other – but they were 
both smiling. It was rare to see Jack so relaxed and happy. 
Sawyer had almost forgotten how beautiful he was when he 
smiled. Sawyer vowed to make him smile like that more often 
from now on. Claire swatted Jack’s arm playfully and he 
laughed. Then she noticed Sawyer standing at the door and 
whispered something to Jack.

Jack snorted and said “yeah.”

“If you two ladies keep gossipin’ behind my back I might start 
gettin’ the wrong idea.”

Claire didn’t miss a beat. “So what sort of things does Jack 
say in his sleep?”

Sawyer smirked. “Well, sometimes he talks to his ex...one time 
he called me Marc.”

Claire paused, the plate in her hands half-rinsed, her eyes 
lighting wickedly. “Really?”

“No,” Jack said quickly, a blush rising to his cheeks. “I told 
you, Marc is a friend. I’ve known him since we were kids.”

“Judgin’ from the way you were snugglin’ up to me, I’d say you 
were more’n friends.”

Claire laughed. “Really?”

“No.” Jack shot Sawyer a withering look. “He’s lying.”

Sawyer shrugged and moved to stand behind Jack, wrapping his 
arms around his waist. “Hey, I’m just tryin’ to make you more 
interestin’. All you ever talk about is operatin’ on people.”

Jack patted Sawyer’s arm and reached for another dish to dry. 
“The kids asleep?”

“Yep.” Sawyer nuzzled Jack’s neck and kissed the sensitive spot 
below his ear. “You look so cute when you’re actin’ all 
domestic.”

Jack hummed and leaned a little more firmly into Sawyer.

Sawyer refocused on Claire. “He tell you what the tattoos 
mean?”

Jack groaned while Claire shook her head. “I told you, it’s 
personal.”

Sawyer rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen parts of you your bitch of 
an ex couldn’t find with a map and the *art* is personal?”

Jack sighed. “Don’t call her that.”

“Considerin’ the way she treated you, I’d say I’m bein’ 
generous.” He knew he couldn’t hate Sarah for cheating on Jack 
without being a hypocrite, but he could still hate her for 
ripping his heart out before she left him for good.

Claire finished the last plate and drained the sink. “Well, I 
hope you’re a better person that her because if you do anything 
to hurt my brother, you’ll answer to me.” She fixed Sawyer with 
a look that made it clear she was only partly joking.

“You just found out you *have* a brother and you’re actin’ like 
you joined the Sopranos?”

“I didn’t know *Jack* was my brother,” she corrected. “I’ve 
known I had a brother for years...or a sister. Dad didn’t say 
which.”

“That’s cause the Doc here’s both,” Sawyer smirked.

Jack swatted his hand and Claire snapped his arm with the towel 
she’d used to dry her hands.

“Hey,” Sawyer whined indignantly. He was used to this sort of 
reaction from Jack, but since Claire had started hanging around 
he was feeling distinctly outnumbered.

Claire bit her lip to hold in a smile and replaced the towel. 
“I think I’ll go to bed,” she announced. “I’m getting tired. 
I’ll see you in the morning.” She raised up on her toes to kiss 
Jack’s cheek, then Sawyer’s and plodded from the room.

Jack finished drying the last plate and turned in Sawyer’s 
embrace. “I guess we should get some sleep too before the kids 
wake up.”

Sawyer’s hands came up to cradle Jack’s face and he just stared 
silently, an expression on his face that Jack thought looked a 
lot like love.

Jack smiled. “What?”

“I ain’t ever seen you so relaxed and happy,” Sawyer said 
softly. “’s nice.”

Jack’s eyes softened and he turned his head to kiss Sawyer’s 
palm.

Sawyer stepped closer, pressing their bodies intimately close 
and kissed Jack softly, just brushing his lips chastely. Jack 
sighed and kissed him back just as gently, letting Sawyer take 
the lead. The kiss built slowly – as if Sawyer had all the time 
in the world, and soon he had Jack whimpering, tilting his head 
to invite Sawyer’s tongue deeper. Jack felt the blood start to 
pool in his groin and vaguely wondered when the last time was 
that someone had been able to do this to him with a kiss alone. 
He suspected the answer was never.

Sawyer finally pulled back a little and smiled when he saw the 
dazed look in Jack’s eyes. He rubbed Jack’s cheek with his 
thumb, tracing a fading cut from the plastic shrapnel and 
murmured “y’okay?”

“That depends,” Jack gasped. “Is the room spinning?”

Sawyer smirked. “I meant your shoulder.”

“Oh...” Jack’s eyes closed as Sawyer started nibbling gently at 
his neck. “Yeah.”

“Then check my left pocket,” he breathed in Jack’s ear.

Jack held back a whimper and fumbled for the pocket. He moaned 
softly, his cock twitching as his fingers closed around a 
familiar foil packet.

“Figure there’s not much point savin’ ‘em anymore. They ain’t 
gonna keep forever.”

Jack nodded stupidly, his ability to form actual coherent words 
abandoning him.

Sawyer leaned back enough so he could slip his hands between 
their bodies and begin to unbutton Jack’s shirt, brushing his 
fingers over warm skin as it was slowly bared.

Jack’s hands fisted in Sawyer’s shirt, grounding him. “Not 
here,” he gasped. “Bed...”

“In a minute.” Sawyer worked his way down Jack’s neck and 
nibbled at his collarbone. He worked open the last button and 
smoothed his hands over Jack’s chest, mentally cursing Jack’s 
discovery of a shiny new razor in the bathroom a couple days 
ago. He always liked to run his fingers through the hair on 
Jack’s chest and delighted in the noises his lover made when he 
tugged at it lightly. Jack had claimed shaving it off made 
breastfeeding easier but Sawyer suspected he was also becoming 
self-conscious about his appearance. ‘Then again,’ he thought 
with a smile when his thumb brushed Jack’s nipple and Jack 
whimpered, his hips twitching. ‘It has its perks.’ He ran his 
thumbs over the hardening peaks more purposefully and Jack 
hissed.

Sawyer pulled back to look in his eyes. “Too much?”

“Yeah,” was all Jack could manage. The combination of Christine 
nursing and the breast pump Juliet had found for him to use was 
starting to make him sore.

Sawyer nodded, his fingers drifting lower as he returned his 
attention to kissing Jack breathless.

Jack locked his watery knees firmly and started fumbling with 
the buttons on Sawyer’s shirt, nearly ripping them off 
completely in his excitement. He ran his hands restlessly over 
Sawyer’s chest, pinching his nipples in a way he knew the 
Southerner liked. The resulting growl and deepening of the kiss 
sent a shiver through his body. He pried himself free of the 
kiss and brought his lips level with Sawyer’s ear. “Bed. Now. 
Before I make a mess we have to clean up,” he panted.

Sawyer’s finer stopped their wandering just below the waistband 
of Jack’s underwear and he leaned back, flashing Jack a lazy, 
victorious grin. “Well, when you put it that way...” He took a 
step back, keeping hold of Jack, steadying him as he staggered 
from the sudden loss of support and dragging him toward the 
door. 

Jack regained his balance after a few steps but still allowed 
Sawyer to drag him toward the bedroom by his wrist.

He gasped in surprise as his back hit the mattress, a tiny 
spark of pain exploding in his shoulder.

Sawyer’s hand was on his arm a moment later, his worried face 
hovering over Jack. “Shit. You okay?”

Jack reached up with his other arm, tangling his fingers in 
Sawyer’s hair. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just have to be careful how I 
move that arm.”

Sawyer tossed his shirt on the floor and started working at 
peeling Jack’s jeans off. “Guess that rules out tyin’ you down 
and fuckin’ you till you scream,” he smirked, his words 
punctuated by the soft thud of Jack’s shoes hitting the floor.

“There’s already a chance Claire could walk in on us. She 
doesn’t need to see *that*.”

Sawyer chuckled and coaxed Jack’s legs apart, settling between 
them and licking the sensitive inside of one knee. “I’ll just 
have to think of somethin’ to get her out of the house when 
you’re feelin’ better.”

Jack snorted, then moaned as Sawyer began nibbling at the 
inside of his thigh. “Just...try to keep it down. The walls 
aren’t that thick.”

Sawyer chuckled and abandoned his attentions for a moment to 
reach for the lube he’d left under the pillow earlier, silently 
thanking the Dharma Initiative for having the foresight to 
provide such a thing in their supply drops. “The walls of the 
tent weren’t that thick either. Sure it’s nothin’ she ain’t 
heard before.” He smiled as Jack blushed slightly and started 
coating his fingers in lubricant. “How you wanna do this?”

Jack looked confused. “What d’you mean?” Sawyer slipped a 
finger in him gently but without warning and he gasped.

Sawyer indicated Jack’s injured arm with his chin. “What 
position’s gonna hurt the least?”

“Oh...mmm...” Jack spread his legs wider, hips hitching as 
Sawyer’s finger brushed firmly over his prostate. “This’s 
fine.”

“You sure?”

Sawyer added another finger, stretching the small space and 
dancing around the swollen prostate, making Jack whimper. 
“Yeah. ‘s not that bad. Oh, fuck!” He thrust his hips up, 
trying to draw the fingers deeper.

Sawyer bent over Jack, pressing soft, wet kisses to his 
abdomen. “Tell me,” he murmured, the words sending gentle 
vibrations through Jack.

 “I...what?” Jack gave a tiny, choked cry as one of the fingers 
stroked firmly over his prostate and darted away quickly.

Sawyer smiled up at Jack. “Tell me what you want. I wanna hear 
you say it.” His tongue darted out to lap away the drop of 
fluid that had gathered on the tip of Jack’s cock.

Jack groaned and shoved his hips into the still-thrusting 
fingers. “I wa...mmm...I want you to shove that big cock of 
yours in me and...fuck me until my shoulder isn’t the only 
thing that’s sore.” He smirked hazily at the dark, mildly 
shocked expression on Sawyer’s face. “That what you want to 
hear?”

Sawyer groaned and fumbled for the condom, eliciting a whimper 
from Jack as he pulled his fingers free to do it. “Yeah, that’s 
about it,” he muttered. He unrolled the condom over himself, 
coated it with a generous amount of lube and stuffed a pillow 
under Jack’s hips.

“Slow,” Jack added, spreading his legs wider to accommodate 
Sawyer’s hips. “Make it last.”

Sawyer nodded and pressed the tip of his cock to the slickened 
entrance, massaging gently before slowly pressing inside.

Jack moaned and arched his back, wrapping his legs around 
Sawyer’s hips and drawing him in tighter, deeper, a tiny thrill 
going through him when Sawyer groaned low in his ear. 

Sawyer stopped when he could go no further and gingerly settled 
on top of Jack, letting his partner take some of his weight. He 
licked and nibbled at one earlobe until Jack whimpered softly. 
He rocked his hips slowly, barely moving, creating a gentle 
friction. He propped himself up on his elbows and leaned back 
so he could get a better look at the man underneath him. Jack 
blinked up at him and reached out to brush the hair back from 
Sawyer’s face, tangling his fingers in the long strands. His 
eyes were soft and dark, pupils wide with pleasure. A breathy 
moan slipped past his kiss swollen lips as Sawyer tilted his 
hips up slightly, sending tingling sparks of pleasure through 
him.

“That good?” he whispered.

Jack nodded, fingers twitching against Sawyer’s scalp. 
“Yeah...don’t...oh shit...like that...don’t stop.”

Sawyer licked at Jack’s trembling lips. “Never,” he muttered. 
“You are so goddamn beautiful like this. Don’t ever wanna 
stop.”

Jack whined softly, his hands leaving Sawyer’s hair to roam 
over his back and shoulders. “So good,” he sighed between 
deepening kisses.

“Yeah,” Sawyer murmured. “So good...” He shifted and dug his 
knees into the mattress, driving himself deeper, thrusting 
harder.

Jack arched against him, his head falling back with an 
abandoned whimper. His legs tensed around Sawyer’s back. “Oh, 
fuck...yes!”

“Shh...” Sawyer scolded with a loose, sex-stupid smirk. He bent 
low over Jack until Jack could feel the warm, panting breaths 
flow right into his ear. “Don’t want little sister to hear.”

Jack whimpered again and dug his nails into slickening skin 
until Sawyer hissed.

“Fuck...” Sawyer tossed his hair back from his eyes and shifted 
his weight to one elbow, reaching the other hand down to grip 
one of Jack’s legs, tugging it upward, changing the angle, 
going even deeper until Jack gave a barely restrained yelp and 
writhed against him in mindless ecstasy. “Jesus...tell me 
you’re close, baby,” Sawyer panted.

Jack just reached his good hand between their bodies and 
wrapped it around his own swollen cock, the hand quickly 
becoming a blur of movement.

A minute later Jack’s movements stuttered, his breath caught 
and every muscle in his body went taut. Sawyer had just enough 
presence of mind to slap a hand over his mouth before his eyes 
lost focus and he came with an abandoned cry.

Sawyer kept moving through Jack’s orgasm, drawing it out as 
long as possible, groaning as Jack’s muscles clenched around 
him, trying to coax him over the edge. When he felt Jack’s body 
start to go slack, he sat back, took a firm hold of Jack’s hips 
and started pounding his way to his own climax.

Jack gasped and clutched at the mussed sheets helplessly as the 
sudden change sent a series of powerful aftershocks cascading 
over him.

Sawyer came with a loud grunt, his thrusts slowing to a stop, 
his head drooping forward as he panted and tried to regain 
control of his shaking limbs before he collapsed on top of 
Jack.

“Sawyer,” Jack called a minute later, still breathless. “Can 
you...my leg’s cramping...”

Sawyer muttered a string of half-curses, half-apologies, and 
massaged the offending thigh with one hand, the other gripping 
the base of the condom while he carefully pulled out.

Jack groaned and stretched his legs, feeling the stiffness ease 
a little. He smiled and reached for his lover as a sated 
sleepiness began to creep over him. 

Sawyer didn’t notice. He was too busy staring at his hand. 
“Shit. Fuckin’ condom broke.” He chucked the useless piece of 
latex toward the trash can angrily and let loose another string 
of curses, rolling off of Jack onto the other side of the bed, 
one arm flung over his face.

Jack closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Five seconds later, 
he opened them again and reached for the towel Sawyer had left 
near the bed to wipe the mess from his stomach. He turned his 
head to look at Sawyer. “It’s okay...”

“No, it ain’t,” Sawyer interrupted. “I could’a killed you.”

Jack rolled toward him. “The odds of me getting pregnant again 
are pretty slim.”

Sawyer’s arm came down and he glared at Jack. “I thought you 
said they were better on this crazy rock?”

“For you, not me. I still only have one ovary. It’s not 
*impossible*, but if my math is right I won’t be ovulating for 
a couple weeks.”

Sawyer gave him a look that clearly said ‘are you kidding?’ 
“Ovulating?”

Jack flushed a little. “Yeah, well...it’s hard to tell without 
menstruation but...”

Sawyer groaned and covered his eyes again.

“My point is, it’s possible but unlikely.” Jack waited for 
Sawyer to respond, but he remained silent and still. He reached 
out tentatively, touching Sawyer’s upthrust arm. “James...”

Sawyer jerked his arm down, looking startled at the sound of 
his given name on Jack’s lips. He reached to cup Jack’s cheek. 
“We shouldn’t’a done that.”

Jack caught the faint glimmer of moisture in Sawyer’s eyes and 
recalled what Kate had said after rescuing him from the Other’s 
camp. ‘That's why he wouldn't go back for you. I think he 
couldn't face the thought of you dying.’ He smiled softly. 
“It’s okay. We dodged a bullet. We’ll just have to be more 
careful next time.”

Sawyer snorted. “Next time, huh?”

Jack smiled and leaned in to kiss him. “Yeah.”

Sawyer smiled back instinctively and ran his thumb over Jack’s 
full, bruised lips. “You sure?”

Jack nodded firmly. “I can’t say definitively without a 
pregnancy test, but I’m 99% certain it would be negative.”

Sawyer sighed and rolled to face him, wrapping his arms around 
Jack, being careful of his injured shoulder. “Still shouldn’t’a 
done it,” he muttered, pressing his lips to Jack’s.

Jack huffed and smoothed his hand over the sweat dampened skin 
of Sawyer’s chest. “I wanted it just as much as you did.”

“C’n I ask you somethin’,” Sawyer asked after a few minutes of 
comfortable silence broken only by lazy kisses.

Jack hummed.

“How come you never wanna be on top?”

Jack cracked one eye open. “What?”

“Blowjobs, handjobs and rimjobs you’ll give as good as you get, 
but when it comes to fucking seems like it’s always my dick and 
your ass.”

Jack frowned. “Do you want me to be on top?”

“Didn’t say that. Just wonderin’ why you never want to.”

Jack pressed his lips to Sawyer’s shoulder and sighed. “It’s 
not that I don’t *want* to, I just...I like it better this way. 
I feel...freer somehow. More connected. Why is it so 
important?”

Sawyer smiled. “It ain’t. Just curious.” He knew exactly what 
Jack meant. Sawyer fingered the edge of the bandage on Jack’s 
shoulder. “Did I hurt you?”

Jack hummed, already drifting to sleep, and burrowed a little 
deeper into Sawyer’s soft, inviting warmth. “No.”

“You tell me if I did?”

“Mmm,” Jack hummed vaguely.

Sawyer snorted. “Thought so.”

“Mmm...what,” Jack asked sleepily.

Sawyer smiled and kissed his forehead tenderly. “Never mind. Go 
to sleep.”

*********

Sawyer slowly drifted awake to the smell of coffee. He smiled 
and rolled over, reaching for Jack. His smile faded and his 
eyes popped open when his hand found only cooling sheets. 
“Jack?”

No answer, but now he could hear clanking and faint voices 
coming from the kitchen. He grumbled and heaved himself out of 
bed, collecting his pants from the floor and conducting a 
fruitless search for his shirt. After a few minutes he gave up 
and headed for the kitchen, barefoot and shirtless.

Kate and Sayid sat at the kitchen table, along with a nursing 
Claire. Jack stood leaning against the counter, Christine 
sleeping in his arms. He was wearing Sawyer’s shirt.

Sawyer nodded at the unexpected visitors nonchalantly. 
“Mornin’.”

Kate blushed. Sayid brought his cup of coffee to his lips to 
conceal a bemused smile. Claire just rolled her eyes and 
returned her attention to her son. Jack reached behind him on 
the counter and tossed Sawyer his shirt, looking embarrassed.

Sawyer smirked knowingly and shrugged into it, pointedly 
leaving it unbuttoned.

“So what do they want,” Claire asked as Sawyer rummaged around 
for a coffee cup. 

“We’re not sure,” Kate said carefully. “But they’re looking for 
Ben.”

Sawyer looked up at that. “Who?”

“The people from Naomi’s boat,” Jack explained absently, barely 
glancing at Sawyer. “Did they say why?”

“We believe they intend to kill him,” Sayid said evenly.

“Great. Save me the trouble,” Sawyer muttered, leaning back 
against the counter and sipping his coffee.

Kate gave him a withering look.

“Ben may not be the only person they mean to kill,” Sayid added 
patiently.

Jack shifted and Sawyer suspected that if he didn’t have 
Christine in his arms he would be rubbing the back of his neck 
anxiously. “Okay, just...give me about ten minutes and I’ll 
come with you.”

“No, Jack,” Kate protested.

Sayid cut her off with a gentle hand on her arm. “We are not 
telling you this because we need your help. We merely wanted to 
warn you so that you can protect yourself. For now, you and 
Christine are safe here.” He deliberately stressed the name of 
Jack’s daughter.

Jack bristled. “I’m not gonna just hide in here and wait for 
them to...”

“Jack,” Sayid cut in. “We have the situation under control. We 
are only telling you this because we felt it would be easier 
than letting you hear it from John.”

Sawyer’s fingers clenched on his cup. “Locke’s here?”

“They have a boat,” Jack argued, ignoring Sawyer. “They have 
equipment. If we can get access...”

Sawyer put down his cup and left the room abruptly. Kate leapt 
to her feet, calling his name, and ran after him.

He stormed out of the door and spotted Locke immediately – 
standing by a house across the way, talking to somebody Sawyer 
didn’t recognize. By the time Kate emerged from the house he 
was halfway across the lawn.

“Sawyer, don’t!”

Locke looked toward the sound of Kate’s voice and barely had 
time to register the enraged look on Sawyer’s face before the 
Southerner’s fist slammed into his jaw. He staggered. Then 
Sawyer hit him again and he fell to his knees.

“Stop it,” Kate yelled, sliding between them, shoving at 
Sawyer’s shoulders. 

Sawyer shrugged her off, but didn’t make another move to hit 
Locke. “I catch you anywhere near Chrissy or the Doc again,” he 
growled at the downed man. “I’ll kill you.”

“C’mon,” Kate urged, pushing him back toward the house. “Go 
back inside.”

Sawyer gave Locke one last glare as the older man silently 
wiped blood from his lip, his expression frustratingly serene. 
Then he turned and stomped back toward the house.

Jack stood in the doorway, Christine still in his arms, a look 
of mild shock and something Sawyer thought might have been 
respect on his face.

“C’mon,” Sawyer grumbled, brushing past him.

Jack hesitated a moment longer, looking at Kate. She nodded 
silently. ‘It’s okay.’ He nodded back, spared a quick glance at 
Locke and slowly retreated into the house, closing the door.

**********

Claire went out for a walk that night, taking Aaron with her. 
Jack fed Christine and put her to bed, making sure she was 
settled before going to search for Sawyer, who had been 
inexplicably quiet and avoidant all day.

His insides went cold when he found Sawyer sitting on the edge 
of their bed, staring at the pistol loosely cradled in his 
hands. He wanted to demand an explanation but in his frozen 
horror the words refused to come to his lips.

“I told you ‘bout my daddy,” Sawyer said without looking up, 
his voice distressingly distant. “How he killed my momma. How 
he blew his head off right in front of me. All over a con who 
called hisself Mr. Sawyer.”

“James,” Jack finally managed to cough out. A tiny voice in the 
back of his head screamed at him to grab Christine and run, but 
his rational mind quickly stifled it. Sawyer would never do 
anything to hurt them. But he might hurt himself and that 
scared Jack senseless.

“I swore when I found ‘im – no matter how long it took – I’d 
kill the sonofabitch,” Sawyer continued as if he hadn’t heard 
Jack. Maybe he hadn’t. “What I ain’t told you is ‘s when Locke 
gave me that tape of Blondie’s he took me out t’ some pirate 
ship in the jungle and locked me up with the bastard he called 
Daddy.” He blinked back angry tears. “It was him. Sawyer. Damn 
bald bastard knew. He knew I’d kill him. Was countin’ on it. I 
didn’t wanna do it. Told him I wouldn’t, but...he said I’d 
change my mind when I heard what he had to say. He was right. 
Wanted to tell you, but the others...well, you know the rest. 
And just when everythin’s finally lookin’ up he shows up an’ 
blows the rescue plan all to hell and damn near kills you. And 
now he has the guts to march in here and act like he’s the new 
town sheriff.” Sawyer finally looked up at Jack. “Give me one 
good reason I shouldn’t put a bullet between his eyes.”

Jack’s posture relaxed as understanding came over him and he 
moved toward the bed, drawn in by the tortured look in Sawyer’s 
eyes. He sat in the empty spot beside Sawyer and reached to cup 
his face between his palms, gently brushing aside long, blond 
locks. He stared deep into Sawyer’s eyes for a few long seconds 
as if searching for confirmation of something, then drew him in 
and kissed him gently.

Sawyer stiffened at first and tried to pull away, but Jack 
followed, tightening his grip, his tongue pressing insistently 
against the seam between his lips until Sawyer finally opened 
up to let him in.

They were both slightly breathless when Jack pulled away. He 
looked deep into Sawyer’s eyes as he dropped one hand down to 
rest gingerly on the gun in the man’s lap. “Give me the gun, 
James,” he said softly.

Sawyer wanted to scream at him. ‘What the hell’s wrong with 
you? Why aren’t you running?’ But the look in Jack’s eyes 
stopped him. It was the look of a man who saw right through 
every façade Sawyer tried to put up – who knew him better, 
perhaps, than he knew himself.

“James,” Jack prompted again when Sawyer didn’t let go. 
“Please, just give me the gun. Don’t do this. You’re not a 
killer.”

‘Wrong,’ Sawyer’s mind screamed. But part of him realized that 
Jack was right. *Sawyer* may have been a killer, but Sawyer was 
essentially dead. He had died along with that soulless bastard 
in the brig. All that was left was James Ford – the scared 
little boy who grew into a bitter, damaged man. How’re you so 
sure o’ that,” he choked.

Jack closed his eyes for a moment and said slowly, “Remember 
when you tried to shoot the marshal that first week we were 
here? You were just trying to end his suffering. But you 
flinched. You couldn’t go through with it. I didn’t flinch. I 
finished what you couldn’t.”

Sawyer just stared at Jack for a long minute, trying to find 
some sign of fear or disgust in his eyes. He vaguely thought he 
should find it worrying that he couldn’t. All he saw was 
concern and inexplicable love. His grip on the gun fell slack 
and Jack gently pulled it from his nerveless fingers, clicked 
the safety on and tossed it onto the dresser. Then he turned 
back and silently pulled Sawyer into his arms, where the 
Southerner collapsed, crying quietly.

**********

“Why ain’t you runnin’,” Sawyer asked sometime later. He had 
half expected Jack to run once he deemed it safe. Instead, he’d 
laid back comfortably on the bed with Sawyer’s head pillowed on 
his chest, stroking Sawyer’s hair comfortingly while his shirt 
grew damp with tears.

“I’m not leaving you,” Jack repeated, as he had many times 
since the conversation had started.

“Wouldn’t blame you if y’did. I killed two men...”

“What you’ve done doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change who you 
are.”

Sawyer snorted bitterly. “Still a con. Tiger don’t change his 
stripes.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jack repeated stubbornly. 

“I cheated on you.”

“I cheated on my wife.”

Sawyer lifted his head and blinked bloodshot eyes at Jack. 
“What?”

“Well...I didn’t get far and technically she cheated first, 
but...”

Sawyer groaned and rolled away from Jack. “Forget it, Doc. 
You’re a fuckin’ boy scout. One ‘f these days you’re gonna 
figure out you can’t fix me and you’re gonna realize you’re 
better off with someone else. Might’s well get out now ‘n save 
y’rself a whole lotta trouble.”

There was a lengthy silence and then Sawyer yelped as Jack’s 
fist crashed into his shoulder. 

“What the hell’d you do that for?” he yelled.

“To prove a point.”

“What point?”

“If I had done that a year ago, you would have punched me in 
the face.

Sawyer stared incredulously into Jack’s eyes. “That’s it?”

“Last night you bent yourself out of shape worrying over me. A 
few days ago you were fretting over Claire like a mother hen 
and a couple weeks ago you walked into a war zone so Kate 
wouldn’t.”

“So?”

“You took better care of me when I was injured than I did of 
you. Hell, I’m the reason you *were* injured once because I 
stood by and let Sayid torture you.”

“You didn’t know any better,” Sawyer muttered. “Y’ thought you 
were doin’ the right thing.”

Jack stared silently at Sawyer, a spark of victory dancing in 
his eyes.

Sawyer groaned. “Yeah, okay. I get it.”

Jack cupped Sawyer’s face gently between his hands. “You’re a 
good man, James. After everything we’ve been through – after 
everything we’ve *both* done...I wouldn’t still be here if I 
didn’t believe that.”

Sawyer covered Jack’s hands with his and leaned in, kissing him 
desperately. When he came up for air he leaned his forehead 
against Jack’s, panting, feeling Jack’s fingers stroke his hair 
soothingly. He felt overwhelmed suddenly by the knowledge that 
Jack still loved him in spite of all the flaws that should have 
sent anyone running for the hills. He thought briefly of Jack’s 
tattoos, of where he got them and all of the other brief 
glimpses Sawyer had gotten into the doctor’s mysterious past 
and wondered if maybe this could all be explained as an 
attraction to dangerous, bad boy types. He dismissed the idea 
almost immediately. It didn’t matter. The important thing was 
that Jack had heard the worst of what Sawyer was capable of and 
was still willing to stand by him – still loved him. Sawyer 
couldn’t begin to put into words the gratitude and love he felt 
at that moment. All his exhausted brain could form was “don’t 
call me James.”

Jack chuckled softly. “What should I call you?”

Sawyer traced Jack’s lips absently with one finger. “Kinda 
gotten used to you callin’ me Sawyer. Sounds nice when you say 
it.”

Jack smiled softly. “Okay...Sawyer.”

**********

“I’m attackin’ Siberia,” Sawyer announced.

Hurley freed one arm from holding Aaron and tossed the dice. “I 
can’t believe you’re just giving him Australia,” he moaned, 
rearranging the squirming baby on his lap and pouting. “It’s 
the key to the whole game.”

“Says you.” Sawyer turned to Jack. “Your turn.”

Jack didn’t hear him, too focused on Christine, twitching in 
her sleep in her makeshift basket nearby.

Sawyer nudged his leg under the table. “Hey. Quit fussin’. 
She’s fine.”

Jack sighed and was just reaching for the dice when a loud 
knock came from the front door.

The three men looked at each other for a moment.

“I’ll get it,” Sawyer finally said. “Keep goin’.”

Sawyer’s good mood blackened rapidly when he opened the door to 
find Locke standing on the porch.

“I need to talk to Ben.”

Sawyer bristled at the mention of the man’s name. He didn’t 
like being reminded of whose house Hurley was sharing. “What 
the hell for?”

“I just need to ask him a question, James,” Locke said quietly.

“Can’t it wait?” Sawyer had accepted the uneasy living 
arrangements that had put him, Jack, Claire and the children in 
close proximity to Ben and the group of permanent island 
dwellers Locke had declared himself leader of. As long as they 
stayed away from his family he could pretend they didn’t exist. 

“I’m afraid not.”

Sawyer hesitated a moment longer, looking over his shoulder at 
Jack and Hurley playing their game. “You got five minutes,” he 
growled, stepping aside to let Locke in and following close 
behind him to Ben’s room.

Ben barely looked up from his book before Locke blurted “what’s 
code 14-J?”

Ben froze, eyes widening. “Where did you hear that?”

“The phone rang, I picked it up, a voice kept repeating ‘code 
14-J’.”

Before Sawyer could ask what phone Locke was talking about Ben 
lurched from his seat, his book tossed aside carelessly as he 
darted toward the closet. He flung open the door and flipped up 
a loose floorboard with familiar ease, removing a rifle from 
beneath and cocking it. Sawyer instinctively reached for his 
own gun but Ben was already handing the rifle to him.

“They’re here,” Ben said simply before walking out of the 
bedroom.

“What are you talking about,” Locke demanded, following him. 
“Who’s here?”

“Somebody tripped the panic switch of our security fence. That 
means one of my people’s been captured.”

Jack was on his feet, eyes wide as he caught sight of the rifle 
in Sawyer’s hands. “What? Who was captured?”

Ben ignored him and spun on Locke, his tone growing pissy. “How 
long did you spend debating whether or not you should ask me 
why the phone rang?”

“Five minutes,” Locke admitted reluctantly.

Ben pursed his lips. “Well, so much for our head start.”

“What’s going on,” Hurley spluttered, trying to keep up with 
the sudden turn of events. “Who’s attacking us?”

Jack’s eyes met Sawyer’s as the same thought occurred to both 
of them. “Claire.” They had offered to watch Aaron for a couple 
hours at Hurley’s cabin while she stayed in theirs, taking a 
much deserved nap.

Sawyer nodded and handed the rifle to Locke, removing his 
pistol from his belt. “Keep Chrissy safe. I’ll get ‘er.”

“There’s no time,” Ben argued.

“I’ll make time,” Sawyer snapped, brushing past him and 
marching out the door. 

Ben shut the door after him.

“Get the kids away from the windows,” Locke ordered as Jack 
swept Christine into his arms. Christine, upset at being so 
rudely awoken, began to whimper in distress. Aaron began to 
cry.

Jack was too distracted to notice Ben dragging a bookcase in 
front of the now locked door. 

“How’s Sawyer gonna get back in,” Hurley asked.

“He’s not,” Ben muttered.

Jack’s spine stiffened. “No! You’re not just gonna...”

“It’s too late,” Ben snapped. “He’s gone.”

Jack’s eyes flashed and he opened his mouth to argue but 
anything he could have said was interrupted by a volley of 
gunshots outside the cabin. He instinctively moved toward the 
window.

Locke cut him off, suddenly adopting the voice of reason in 
this crisis. “No! Get the baby away from the window!”

Hurley hooked an arm around Jack’s, pulling him back toward the 
interior hallway, clutching his hand in a pathetic attempt at 
reassurance. Jack’s breathing stopped as the gunfire was 
drowned out by an explosion.

“Claire,” a muffled voice outside screamed.

Hurley squeezed Jack’s hand. “He’s okay,” he muttered.

Jack nodded dumbly, closing his eyes, quietly panicking. Sawyer 
was alive, but for how long? And what happened to Claire? He 
was too numb with worry to pay attention to the heated 
discussion Ben and Locke were having on the other side of the 
room. Then Locke said something to Hurley and Hurley nodded and 
let go of Jack, grabbing Christine’s “crib” and dragging it 
toward the back bedroom. Without thinking, Jack grabbed the 
other end and followed, placing the crib next to the bed 
already set up for Aaron.

They had just gotten both children settled when Sawyer’s voice 
came from somewhere outside. “Open the door!”

Hurley peeked out the window and dashed from the room. Jack 
moved to follow but hesitated as his daughter’s cries grew in 
volume again. “Shh, it’s okay,” he cooed distractedly, eyes 
darting repeatedly to the door as he rocked her crib with slow, 
careful movements.

Glass shattered in the front room, followed by a lot of bumping 
and clunking and frantic voices. Then Hurley reappeared, a 
half-conscious Claire in his arms. Jack hurried to help him get 
her on the bed, quickly determining that her wounds were all 
superficial and reassuring her that she and her son were safe.

They all froze as the doorbell rang.

“Jack,” Hurley protested as Jack ran toward the hallway.

Sawyer met him before he got more than five feet from the room 
and shoved a pistol in his hands. “Get back in there and lock 
the door. And don’t you dare fuckin’ come out again ‘til I say 
you can. Got it?”

The intensity and desperation in his eyes prevented Jack from 
arguing, but didn’t stop him from reaching to wipe blood from 
Sawyer’s cheek. “Are you okay?”

“It ain’t mine,” Sawyer said gruffly, shoving Jack back toward 
the bedroom. “Now go!”

Jack bit his tongue to stem any further arguments or questions 
and ducked back into the room, closing the door and locking it. 
He counted the bullets in the pistol and cocked it with shaking 
hands.

“Why is my father here,” a suddenly alert Claire asked Hurley, 
staring at an empty corner of the room. “Are we dead?”

“If we are then heaven sucks,” Hurley said flatly.

**********

“They told me they were just security,” Miles said dazedly as 
Sawyer patted him down.

“For what?”

Miles pointed at Ben. “For him. Once they got him. To escort 
him back to the mainland.”

Sawyer squinted at him. Locke had been holding this kid from 
the freighter prisoner somewhere since Sayid had traded him for 
the other chick Locke had captured and whose name Sawyer hadn’t 
bothered to remember. The kid seemed just as frustrated and 
clueless as they were but that didn’t mean much. If he so much 
as took a step toward the back bedroom Sawyer would kill him.

“Just take it,” Miles said, waving the proffered walkie 
impatiently.

“Why would I talk to them,” Ben asked calmly.

“Because they have a hostage.”

Ben didn’t bat an eye. Then again, he already knew as much. 
“Well, then they’ve badly miscalculated, because every single 
one of my people is prepared to die in service to this island.”

“It’s your daughter.”

Ben went still and Sawyer was pretty sure he recognized the 
look of panic and dread that flashed in his eyes. It was gone 
in a moment and he calmly took the walkie and said “hello.”

Sawyer half-listened to the hostage negotiation, plotting ways 
to get himself and all of the people in that back room as far 
from this mess as possible. He almost missed the gunshot that 
marked the end of Alex Rousseau’s young life. He peeked out the 
window to see her body crumpled near the jungle line and 
nothing else. No sign of the mercenary guy Ben had called 
“Keamy”.

“I don’t see him,” he grumbled toward Locke. “He just left her 
body there and disappeared into the jungle.”

“He won’t be gone for long,” Lock predicted. “It’s gonna be 
dark in about twenty minutes and then they’re gonna come for 
him.”

Sawyer looked toward the hallway. He wasn’t really ready to die 
but he would rather face a firing squad than leave his friends 
and family vulnerable to this Keamy wingnut. “Let’s just hand 
him over.”

Locke grimaced. “I don’t think these people have any intentions 
of letting us walk out of here alive, James. No matter what we 
do.”

Sawyer suppressed the urge to punch him. The asshole was right, 
he had to admit. Keamy had shot an unarmed teenage girl in cold 
blood. He certainly wouldn’t hesitate to hurt any of them.

Ben suddenly came out of his shocked stupor, mumbled something 
about changing the rules and marched into a nearby room, 
slamming the door shut before anybody could stop him. Sawyer 
banged on the door and shouted uselessly. If that bastard had a 
tunnel to the other side of the island in there...

Jack emerged tentatively from the back room, gun at ready, 
followed by Claire and Hurley, each holding a now calmed baby. 
“What’s going on?”

Before Sawyer could respond, Ben emerged again, brushing past 
Sawyer to retrieve the abandoned walkie from the couch.

“What the hell were you doin’ in there,” Sawyer demanded. 

Ben just stuffed the walkie in his pocket and addressed the 
group. “Listen to me very carefully. I need all of you to do 
exactly as I say. In a minute, we have to run from this house 
as fast as we can. At that moment, when I give the order, I 
want you to head straight for the tree line.”

Everybody looked at each other in silence. 

“You mean toward the guys with guns,” Hurley said hesitantly.

Ben shook his head. “No. We want to be as far away from them as 
possible.”

As if in answer to the next question on all of their minds the 
entire cabin began to tremble. Glass shattered. Dishes rattled 
from countertops and smashed to the floor. Ben peaked out of 
the window and shouted “okay, outside! Now!”

Everyone who was able scrambled to move the furniture blocking 
the door. Sawyer gripped Jack firmly by the elbow – more to 
keep him close than urge him on - as they all stumbled out into 
the growing darkness. Flashes of light came from the nearby 
trees, accompanied by screams and a familiar groaning and 
screeching. They paused for a moment to watch the black smoke 
roiling just beyond the tree line, engulfing Keamy’s men.

“What did you do,” Locke shouted over the din.

“Did you just...call that thing,” Hurley added, trying to cover 
Christine’s ears.

A man dressed in full camouflage came running out of the chaos 
and Sawyer let go of Jack to aim his rifle but the smoke got to 
him first, curling around him and dragging him screaming back 
into the trees.

Hurley ran without further prompting in the other direction, 
followed closely by Miles. Sawyer found his voice and shouted 
to the stunned Claire to “go”, and then grabbed Jack’s wrist 
and took off after her, heart pounding. He didn’t know if Ben 
and Locke were behind them, but he didn’t care. If they were 
stupid enough to stay then that was their problem.

**********

They didn’t stop running until the sounds faded well behind 
them. Jack practically collapsed on a fallen log, followed 
closely by Hurley, who gladly handed Christine over.

Sawyer lit a torch and handed it to Miles, who seemed just as 
relieved to be as far away from Keamy’s group as they were. 
“Everyone okay,” he asked over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Claire and Hurley said breathlessly. Jack nodded, 
busily whispering soothingly to his crying daughter.

Ben caught up with them shortly thereafter and, after offering 
sincere condolences for his loss, Locke bizarrely accused him 
of not being truthful about the smoke monster. Ben didn’t seem 
surprised.

“You can ask Jacob all about it when we go to the cabin.”

Sawyer’s patience ran out. “Hang on. Jacob? Who the hell is 
Jacob?”

“He’s the man who’s gonna tell us what to do next, James,” Ben 
said patiently.

Jack groaned. 

“Aw, hell no,” Sawyer sneered. “I’m done with all this. Never 
should’ve stayed when you whackos moved in in the first place. 
I’m goin’ back to the beach and they’re comin’ with me.” He 
cupped Jack’s elbow. “You okay to keep movin’?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Jack stood tiredly and reached for Claire 
with his free arm. She nodded and followed him to the nearby 
path. 

“Yeah, I’m coming with you,” Miles piped up, darting ahead to 
light their way.

“C’mon Hurley,” Jack called.

They only got a few feet before Locke cocked his gun and 
pointed it at Sawyer.

Jack stiffened at the sound and reached for the gun at his 
waistband, but a pointed look and a shake of the head from 
Sawyer stopped him.

“Hugo stays with us,” Locke said.

Sawyer grit his teeth and whirled around, his own pistol 
pointing at Locke’s shiny head. “Not a chance.”

“Wait,” Hurley spluttered. “Leave me out of it.”

“I’m sorry Hugo,” Locke said not unkindly. “We need you to find 
the cabin.”

“He ain’t goin’ anywhere with you, you crazy son of a bitch,” 
Sawyer snarled.

“Stop,” Hurley yelped. “Put the guns down. I’ll go with Locke.”

Sawyer spared him a glance. “Hugo...”

“It’s okay, Sawyer,” Hurley reassured him. “Please,” he 
directed at Locke. “Put your gun down.”

Lock did as he asked easily.

“You too,” Hurley added when Sawyer failed to respond in kind.

“You don’t have to do this,” Sawyer ground out. He didn’t trust 
Locke as far as he could throw him and letting Hurley – the 
sweetest, most altruistic member of their camp - go with him 
seemed an insanely bad idea.

Hurley turned to Jack. “You guys go back to the beach. I’ll 
catch up sooner or later.”

Jack saw the pleading in his eyes and nodded reluctantly, 
stepping forward to gently take Sawyer’s free arm. “C’mon,” he 
whispered. “It’s okay.”

Sawyer stared Locke down for another tense minute before 
lowering his gun. “You harm so much as one curly hair on his 
head, I’ll kill you,” he sneered.

Locke didn’t flinch. “Fair enough.”

Sawyer shot one last glance at Hurley before turning and 
letting Jack lead him toward the jungle path.

**********

Jack caught Claire under the elbow as she stumbled. They had 
spent most of the night walking and both of them were 
practically dead on their feet. But while Jack was still 
feeling weak and exhausted by past trauma, he hadn’t been in 
close proximity to an explosion less than a day ago. “You 
okay?”

“Yeah,” she said lightly. “Just a bit woozy.”

“How’s your head?”

“It’s better. Bit of a headache, but at least I’m not seeing 
things anymore.”

“Yeah, what’d you see,” Miles asked, loping closer to her.

“Back off, Donner,” Sawyer growled, tightening his grip on his 
gun. The kid might not be posing an immediate threat to any of 
them but he asked too many questions for Sawyer’s peace of 
mind.

Jack ignored their uninvited guest. “I’ll get you some aspirin 
back at camp. Let me know if it starts getting worse, okay?”

Claire smiled wanly. “Yeah. Thanks.”

It took a moment before anyone realized that Miles had stopped 
walking.

“What,” Sawyer snapped, rounding on him where he stood staring 
at the ground.

“Who’s Danielle and Karl,” he asked, distracted.

Jack frowned. “Rousseau? Why?”

Miles just dropped to the ground and started clawing at the 
dirt, quickly uncovering Rousseau’s face. It was obvious she 
had been dead for at least a day.

“Oh my god,” Claire gasped, looking ill.

Jack spun her away, shielding her from the sight. “Don’t look.”

Miles scrambled a few feet further and uncovered another face.

Sawyer’s shoulders sagged. “Karl,” he murmured. Poor kid hadn’t 
deserved any of this. He refocused on Miles and glowered. “How 
did you know they were down there? Your buddies do this?”

Miles stood slowly, looking shaken. “They’re not my buddies, 
man. I didn’t sign up for this.”

“Yeah, then what did you sign up for,” Jack snapped.

“Look, can we just get out of here, please,” Claire begged. 
“Can we just go?”

Sawyer softened. “Yeah, of course, sweetheart.” He wrapped a 
supportive arm around her shoulders and started back on the 
path, Jack keeping pace on her other side, Miles trailing 
behind.

***********

Sawyer finally grew tired of Miles constantly staring at Claire 
like she was some sort of modern miracle or something and 
confronted him at the next rest stop. “Don’t even think about 
it.”

Miles blinked at him stupidly. “What?”

“Don’t look at her. Don’t talk to her. Don’t mess with her. You 
got a restraining order. Twenty feet.”

“What are you, her big brother,” Miles sneered.

A smile tugged at the corner of Sawyer’s lips and he glanced 
over at Jack, who was expertly reassembling his pistol, a 
recently fed Christine sleeping in her blanket beside him. “No. 
But he is.”

Miles blinked. “Seriously?”

Sawyer stepped menacingly closer. “And if you even *think* 
about messin’ with him, I’ll rip your guts out with my bare 
hands and strangle you with ‘em. Y’got me?”

Miles seemed to do a mental eye roll and sighed, parroting 
“Yeah, I got ya.”

**********

The next time Claire stumbled Miles offered to give her “a 
hand” with Aaron. She muttered an uncomfortable “no thanks, I’m 
fine” and Sawyer asked what part of “restraining order” Miles 
failed to grasp.

“Hey,” Jack called softly, interrupting them, his eyes on the 
trees nearby as a couple branches rustled in the distance.

Sawyer shouldered his rifle and turned to stand between both 
Jack and Claire and whatever was coming toward them. “The hell 
are you,” he demanded when a scruffy looking bearded man in a 
hideous shirt stumbled out. 

The man held up his hands placatingly, briefcase in one, SAT 
phone in the other.

“Lapidus,” Miles blurted.

“Lapidus” squinted at him. “Miles? You gotta hide, man. Right 
now.”

Miles looked confused.

“Keamy’s comin’ back. If he sees you, he’ll kill all o’ ya.” 
Lapidus glanced down at his frantically beeping phone. “And 
he’s close, man. You gotta hide! Now! Go!”

Sawyer grabbed Jack’s arm instinctively and darted for the 
nearest cover. They didn’t have any reason to trust anything 
this stranger said but the urgency in his voice didn’t leave 
much room for debate. They knew what Keamy was capable of. If 
he was headed in their direction than they certainly didn’t 
want to be visible when he arrived. They ducked into the bushes 
seconds before Keamy’s group entered the clearing. 

They barely understood the words being exchanged in the 
clearing but it was obvious Lapidus was reluctantly following 
some order Keamy was giving him regarding supplies and first 
aid kits. Sawyer kept a white knuckle grip on Jack, reassuring 
himself that the doctor was safe beside him, wincing as he 
noted the severity of the injuries on one of Keamy’s men. The 
guy was covered in blood and barely conscious, being held up by 
two other men. Whatever that smoke creature was intended for, 
it was an effective weapon.

Christine hiccupped suddenly, the sound ricocheting through the 
jungle like a twig snap. Jack tensed and clutched her tighter, 
pressing her mouth to his shoulder. Sawyer let go of him to 
grip his rifle, watching as Keamy’s eyes scanned the jungle for 
the sound.

Lapidus looked around nervously and loudly declared that it was 
getting dark and they should get going. He kept up a steady 
stream of babbling insistence until Keamy finally gave up 
searching for the sound and followed him away from the 
clearing.

A wave of relief passed over their group and Jack relaxed his 
grip on Christine. Claire rested her forehead on his shoulder. 
Sawyer silently vowed to thank Lapidus if they ever saw him 
again.

**********

Sawyer awoke from a fitful sleep and just lay there for a 
moment, taking in the sight of Jack laying beside him, 
sleeping, Christine nestled in the curve of his body. Her tiny 
fingers were wrapped in her blanket, twitching occasionally. If 
it wasn’t for the dirt floor and jungle noises they would have 
been the perfect picture of domesticity. Christine let out a 
soft half-snore and Sawyer couldn’t help but smile. She and 
Jack were rapidly turning all of the walls he had built up 
around his heart to dust, but he found he no longer cared. 
Protecting himself – while still a concern – had taken a 
backseat to protecting them. His family. Possibly the only real 
family he had ever known. 

He sighed and reluctantly joined the rest of the waking world, 
peaking over Jack at Miles, who sat poking the fire with a 
stick several feet away. 

“Morning,” Miles said without looking up.

Sawyer grumbled under his breath and tried to sit up without 
disturbing Jack or Christine. Jack came awake instantly and 
blinked up at him blearily.

Sawyer smiled at Jack as he stubbornly fought his way to full 
consciousness and leaned down to kiss him sweetly. “Mornin’,” 
he whispered.

Jack murmured something unintelligible and carefully unwrapped 
himself from Christine, managing with far more success than 
Sawyer to extricate himself without waking her. He sat up and 
scrubbed at his eyes while Sawyer looked around for the rest of 
their group and found only an empty blanket on the other side 
of the fire. 

“Where’s Claire? Ladies room?”

“Nope,” Miles said simply. “Just walked off into the jungle.”

Jack stopped rubbing his eyes and stared at Miles. “What? 
When?”

“In the middle of the night. She just got up and left.”

“You let her go alone,” Sawyer spluttered.

“She wasn’t alone.”

“Well, who was she with?”

Miles sighed. “She called him Dad.”

Jack’s eyes widened and Sawyer swore he heard his breathing 
stop. “What?”

Miles ignored Jack’s growing panic to add pointedly “I would’ve 
followed them but I have a restraining order.”

Jack started to lurch to his feet, but Sawyer stopped him. 
“Wait!”

“Sawyer, the last time I went chasing after Dad in the jungle I 
nearly fell off a cliff. We have to find her!”

Sawyer nodded grimly. “Stay with Chris. I’ll get ‘er.” He 
squeezed Jack’s shoulder reassuringly and climbed to his feet, 
tucking his pistol in the back of his pants, picking up his 
rifle and darting into the trees.

Jack frowned, his mind racing, trying to catch up to the rest 
of him. He carefully shifted until his body blocked Christine 
from Miles’ line of sight. “You could see him?” 

Miles blinked at him. “Oh, yeah, didn’t I tell you? I can see 
dead people,” he said dryly.

Jack laughed harshly. Claire having visions of their father 
made sense. She had been through a trauma and might have a 
slight head injury. He could even accept his own visions of 
Christian after the crash as manifestations of his own guilt 
made disturbingly real by his near-death experience. But Miles? 
“That’s impossible.”

“Why, because he’s not dead,” Miles asked innocently.

Jack shook his head and looked away, unable to believe he had 
almost fallen for this cheap parlor trick. He slipped his hand 
subtly under the nearby blanket, palming the pistol hidden 
there, trying to formulate a plan to force Miles to tell him 
what really happened to Claire. He almost didn’t register 
Miles’ next words.

“He also said ‘tell him to remember the promise he made before 
the wedding.’”

Jack hesitated, blinking stupidly. “What?”

Miles rolled his eyes “Hey, I’m just the messenger. I have no 
idea what he was talking about and I didn’t ask.”

Jack sneered. “You expect me to believe that my father talked 
to you...”

“He figured you wouldn’t believe me,” Miles interrupted. 
“That’s why he told me that he gave you that watch you’re 
wearing even though it hasn’t worked since your plane crashed 
here.” He looked up and met Jack’s eyes pointedly. “Said it was 
your grandfather’s.”

The memory came flooding back to Jack then. Skipping stones in 
the ocean near the hotel. His father telling him the story 
behind the watch he never wore himself. And the promise...

“If you and Sarah ever have a kid...try to treat him better 
than I treated you.”

Jack choked quietly as a wave of emotions threatened to 
overwhelm him.

Miles didn’t seem to notice. “He looked like he really wanted 
to talk to you. I guess it’s a good thing he didn’t. You 
probably would’ve tried to shoot him.” He nodded toward Jack’s 
concealed hand.

Christine stirred and Jack ripped his hand out from under the 
blanket, away from the gun, scooping her into his arms. He 
whispered to her brokenly, nonsensically, forcing his voice 
past the rising lump in his throat and turned his back on Miles 
as his eyes blurred with tears. ‘It’s not possible,’ a voice in 
the back of his head stubbornly repeated over and over. Not 
possible. He caught one of Christine’s flailing hands and 
pressed a kiss to the tiny knuckles, a tear spilling down his 
cheek.

**********

They searched for hours, but other than a very upset Aaron who 
had been left nestled in a patch of ferns not far from their 
campsite, they found nothing. It wasn’t like Claire to abandon 
Aaron like that, but there weren’t any signs that she had done 
so under duress. Wherever she had gone, she had gone willingly. 
Of course, Jack pointed out, that was probably because she had 
a head injury and was accompanied by their dead father, either 
or both of which were impeding her ability to act rationally.

Finally, Jack agreed to postpone the search for the time being 
until they got the children back to the beach camp. 

They were less than an hour away when Miles – who had gotten 
well ahead of them being the only one without a baby in his 
arms – suddenly started talking to somebody.

Sawyer groaned mentally. Whose ghost had he run into this time? 
“Who the hell are you talkin’ to up there, Genghis,” he 
grumbled. He entered a clearing, followed by a very weary Jack, 
and was surprised to come face to face with a very real, very 
sweaty Kate pointing a pistol at Miles. 

She lowered her weapon at the sight of them, a look of relief 
quickly eclipsed by confusion. “Where’s Claire?”

Sawyer met Jack’s eyes briefly and mumbled, “We lost her. She 
just walked off in the middle of the night. I was hopin’ maybe 
she went back to the beach.” It was a long shot, but he had to 
try.

Kate tucked her pistol into her jeans. “No, I haven’t seen 
her.” 

“What are you doing out here,” Jack asked, gesturing toward the 
blinking SAT phone resting beside her backpack. “Where did that 
phone come from?”

“The chopper flew over the beach. Someone tossed it out. It 
might have been Sayid. He and Desmond went out to the boat a 
couple days ago.”

“You better hope it ain’t Sayid,” Sawyer growled. “’cause if 
these are the animals who just blew up half of New Othertown 
you do not wanna tussle with ‘em.”

Kate’s eyes widened and she looked to Jack, as if searching for 
a second opinion. “They tried to kill you?”

Jack nodded and winced as Sawyer added “just like Locke said 
they would.”

Jack glanced at Miles, quietly sitting and watching the 
interaction between them and came to a sudden realization. “It 
doesn’t matter who’s on that chopper. We have to find it.”

Sawyer gaped at him. “What are you...have you lost your mind?”

“That helicopter is our only way off this island.”

Aaron began stirring and whimpering, sensing Sawyer’s growing 
agitation. “So, what, you’re just gonna run toward those 
commando nutjobs?”

“No, if I’m careful I won’t be anywhere near them. I promised 
our people I would get them off this island,” Jack argued 
vehemently, growing more determined and steadfast in his 
decision by the second. “We need to get Christine off this 
island,” he added in a low voice. 

“Yeah, but this ain’t the way to do it, Doc,” Sawyer argued, 
wishing he had his hands free so he could slap some sense into 
Jack.

“And what is the way to do it? Because if that chopper takes 
off we lose our best chance. I’m not gonna let that happen 
again.” Jack bent to grab the SAT phone from Kate’s pack before 
meeting Kate’s wide-eyed stare. “Take Aaron and go back to the 
beach. Keep him safe. I’ll come back for you after I get 
Christine on the boat.”

“No, Jack,” she spluttered, but Jack was already heading back 
into the jungle. 

“Jack,” Sawyer snapped. “Goddamn son of a bitch...” He shoved 
Aaron into Kate’s arms. “I got him. You go on back.”

He ran after Jack. “Jack, if you don’t turn around right now I 
swear to God I’m gonna knock you out and drag you back. And 
don’t think just ‘cause your holdin’ Chris I ain’t gonna do it. 
I’ll carry you both ‘f I have to.”

“I have to do this, James,” Jack fired back. “Please don’t try 
to stop me.”

Sawyer caught him by the arm and spun him around abruptly. “You 
don’t gotta do nothin’ that’s gonna get the both o’ you 
killed.” His anger dissipated a little when he saw the agonized 
expression on Jack’s face.

“Keamy and his men are *here*, Sawyer. On the island. Right now 
that boat is the safest place to be.”

Sawyer strained to piece together the details of Jack’s plan in 
his mind. If he thought he could sneak past Keamy and hitch a 
ride with whatever sympathetic ally had tossed the phone onto 
the beach... “You ain’t comin’ back here,” he concluded.

Jack shoved the SAT phone into Sawyer’s hands and adjusted his 
grip on the dozing Christine. “I’ll come back. And I will blow 
up that chopper and spend the rest of my life here if any of 
Keamy’s men try to fly it back to the freighter. As long as 
Christine is safe, nothing else matters.”

The desperation in his eyes stemmed any further argument Sawyer 
may have come up with.

“Please, Sawyer, I have to do this. I have to make sure my 
daughter gets off this island. You can either help me or get 
out of my way but I am *not* going back to the beach.”

Sawyer only thought about it for a moment. “I sure as hell 
ain’t lettin’ you go alone,” he muttered. He shoved the SAT 
phone back into Jack’s hands and held his arms out for 
Christine. “Why don’t you let me carry her a while.”

Jack blinked rapidly as he carefully transferred Christine into 
Sawyer’s arms. Once she was secure he cupped the back of 
Sawyer’s neck and kissed him, pouring all of the gratitude, 
relief and love he felt rushing up within him into it. “Thank 
you,” he choked.

“Yeah,” Sawyer whispered, leaning in for one more kiss, tasting 
traces of salt on Jack’s lips. “Now let’s go before I change my 
mind.”

********

The helicopter was perched just outside the jungle line. The 
clearing was deathly still, but the chopper was not. The metal 
creaked and squealed as somebody moved around inside it. Jack 
and Sawyer crept as close as they dared, trying to get a 
glimpse of who it was without the person seeing them. Then a 
stream of muffled curses in a vaguely familiar voice drifted 
across the clearing to them. 

Jack, weapon drawn, looked at Sawyer in disbelief and motioned 
for him to keep Christine hidden before tentatively calling 
“Lapidus?”

“Yeah!” The man in the chopper pushed aside a piece of 
equipment and the scruffy looking man who had saved their lives 
the day before came into view. He was laying on the floor of 
the chopper, handcuffed to the bolted seats, making an obvious 
argument that not all of the people from the freighter were, in 
fact, on the same team.

Jack tucked his gun away and approached the chopper, keeping 
Sawyer and Christine safely behind him. “Are you the one who 
dropped the phone?”

“No, I’m the one who threw it to you guys so you could find me 
and I could fly you outta here.” He rattled the handcuffs. “Now 
why don’t you do me a favor and get the toolbox outta that back 
compartment and help me outta these things. Hey there, 
sweetheart.” He smiled at Christine, who had awoken and was 
staring in fascination at the chaotic, funny colored blob 
making strange noises at her.

Jack found the toolbox quickly and plunked it down in front of 
Lapidus, who reached to shake his hand. “Name’s Frank, by the 
way.”

Jack nodded and shook his hand. “Jack. Where are Desmond and 
Sayid?”

“Your friends were smart enough to keep their asses on the boat 
because right now that’s the safest place to be. Because when 
those boys that I brought over here come stompin’ out of this 
jungle you’re gonna wanna be long gone.”

Jack eyed the jungle warily. “Where’d they go?”

Frank took a swig of water from an economy sized bottle and 
offered it to Jack. “They’re up by some greenhouse. Perched up 
there, waitin’ to snatch Linus.”

“What’re they gonna do with the people with him,” Sawyer asked, 
dreading the answer.

“Nothin’ good,” Frank mumbled and turned to paw through the 
contents of the toolbox. 

Jack and Sawyer looked at each other gravely and Sawyer voiced 
the concern that was on both of their minds. “Hugo.” He shoved 
Christine into Jack’s arms abruptly. “Here, you stay here. I’ll 
go find ‘im.”

Jack shook his head. “No, Sawyer, you can’t...”

Sawyer kissed him to shut him up. “Don’t you worry about me. 
I’ll be back in no time.” He smiled crookedly and pulled away 
reluctantly. He unhooked the strap holding the rifle to his 
back, shouldered the weapon and started heading in the 
direction Frank had indicated this “greenhouse” was supposed to 
be. Then he hesitated and pulled out his pistol, handing it to 
Frank. Frank looked surprised. As did Jack. But something told 
Sawyer he could trust this man. He nodded to Jack. “Watch his 
back for me, would ya?”

Frank nodded solemnly and took the gun, tucking it into his own 
waistband clumsily. “Will do.” 

**********

“That your baby,” Frank asked conversationally some time later 
after Jack had stopped scanning the jungle quite so anxiously.

“Yeah,” Jack replied easily, smiling at Christine, who was 
waving her arms in front of her face and staring at them with 
rapt attention. “This is my daughter. Christine.”

Frank tossed the tool he was holding back in the box and smiled 
down at her. “You look just like your daddy, beautiful.” Then 
he went back to digging in the toolbox. “That blonde who was 
with you before...she the mother?”

“Ah...no.” 

“Never mind. None of my business. Forget I asked.” 

Jack chuckled softly. “So uh...mind if I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“The Red Sox really win the Series?”

Frank snorted and tossed a wrench back into the toolbox. “Don’t 
get me started on that. My dad’s from the Bronx. I bleed Yankee 
blue.”

Jack laughed and shook his head. “I guess miracles do happen.”

Frank rolled his eyes. Then he froze suddenly and glanced 
toward the jungle. “Shit. They’re comin’. Get back in the 
woods. Over there,” he gestured to the patch of jungle behind 
the helicopter. “Take cover. I’ll keep ‘em busy.”

Jack didn’t wait for further prompting. He just clutched 
Christine tighter to his chest and took off for the jungle. He 
got about fifty yards in and then stopped, looking back toward 
the clearing. 

Hands suddenly grabbed him and pulled him to one side. He 
wheeled around frantically and was startled to see a man he 
recognized from his time spent with the Others. The man - 
‘Richard,’ some distant part of his mind supplied – gestured 
for him to stay quiet, guided him over to a tangled overgrowth 
of bushes and urged him to sit, squatting beside him. 

“Stay down. Don’t move. You’ll be safe here,” he said quietly.

Jack nodded, struck dumb by fear and the surreal nature of this 
sudden turn of events.

Richard stood and darted away with animal-like grace, 
disappearing into the trees.

Christine whimpered and Jack pressed his lips to her ear. “Shh, 
it’s okay. It’s all right sweetheart.” His eyes scanned the 
eerily still jungle, his heart pounding loudly in his ears. 

A machine gun blast erupted from the clearing, followed by an 
explosion of gunfire, grenades and shouting. Jack had never 
been in a war zone before, but he imagined this was what one 
must sound like. He eased Christine to the ground beside him 
and curled his body around her, shielding her, babbling frantic 
reassurances, ignoring the voice inside him that screamed for 
him to run.

He barely noticed when the noise stopped. He thought he heard 
Frank shouting his name but the sound was muffled and he 
couldn’t be sure. He didn’t move a muscle, scared to death of 
what might happen if he so much as reached for the pistol 
tucked in the back of his waistband and somebody saw him. He 
was a good shot, but these men had better training and military 
grade weaponry. He doubted he would get off more than one shot. 

A strangled cry wrenched from him as something moved behind him 
and someone was suddenly beside him. 

“It is all right, Jack. You are safe now.”

Jack’s mouth worked impotently for several moments before he 
forced out “Sayid?”

A gentle hand rested on his back. “Yes, Jack. It is all right. 
They are gone.”

The tension slowly eased from Jack’s muscles and his whole body 
began to tremble, a sob rising to his throat. 

Sayid gently pried him from Christine, sighing in relief when 
he saw that she was unharmed. When he had first seen Jack 
wrapped around his daughter’s tiny body, neither one moving or 
making a sound, he had feared the worst. “Are you hurt?”

Jack shook his head. 

Sayid cupped Jack’s face between his hands and forced him to 
meet his eyes. “Are you all right?”

Jack knew that Sayid wasn’t referring to his physical state. “I 
will be,” he said shakily.

Sayid nodded slowly. “We need to go back to the helicopter. I 
will carry Christine.”

Jack nodded and let Sayid pull him to his feet. His limbs still 
trembled so hard from the surge of adrenaline and stress that 
he feared he would tumble right back to the ground mid-step, 
but then Sayid was beside him, Christine cradled in one arm, 
his other hand gripping Jack’s bicep firmly, steadying him.

“Thank you,” Jack whispered.

“You do not need to thank me, Jack,” Sayid replied gently.

Jack nodded and slowly walked back toward the clearing. The 
shaking in his limbs eased after a few steps and was mostly 
gone by the time they emerged. He ignored the body laying near 
the edge of the tree line and focused on the helicopter, where 
Kate was bent over Frank’s handcuffs. When she saw Jack she 
dropped Frank’s hand and hurried over to him. “Are you okay?” 
Her hands fluttered over him, checking his mostly healed 
shoulder and running down his arms.

Jack caught her hands. “I’m fine,” he mumbled. “Where’s Aaron?”

“He’s with Sun. He should be on the freighter by now.”

Jack didn’t bother asking for details. He was too drained to 
care how the hell Sun could have gotten Aaron onto the 
freighter or how Sayid had suddenly materialized back on the 
island. He trusted them. 

“Sayid! Kate!”

Kate let go and turned to smile as Hurley entered the clearing. 
She met him halfway and was enveloped in a bear hug. 

Sawyer came into the clearing a moment later, rifle at ready, 
eyes finding Jack and Christine immediately. He slung the rifle 
strap onto his shoulder and made a beeline for them, his hands 
taking up the frantic search for injuries that Kate had 
abandoned. “Christ, are you all right?”

Jack squeezed his hand, feeling better now that he knew they 
were all safe. “I’m fine.”

Sawyer looked skeptical but relented, letting go of Jack to 
take Christine from Sayid. “Hey there, darlin’,” he murmured 
when her big blue eyes blinked up at him. “You miss me?” He 
looked around suddenly. “Where’s Turniphead?”

Jack flinched slightly as Sayid started to carefully cut 
through Frank’s handcuffs with a hacksaw, the shrill whine of 
metal on metal rending the air. “Kate said he’s on the boat 
with Sun.”

Sawyer frowned. “How the hell’d they get on the boat?”

Jack sighed. “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. As long as 
they’re safe.” He paused and glanced at Kate helping Sayid cut 
through Frank’s cuffs while keeping up a conversation with 
Hurley. “Did you have any problems?” 

“Nah. General Patton says ‘hi’.” Sawyer sneered at the memory. 
“Also said if we ever get outta here we’re gonna have to lie, 
whatever that means. Don’t know why we ever trusted that 
yahoo.”

Jack frowned but didn’t have a chance to ask any further 
questions as Sayid broke through the handcuffs and Frank burst 
into motion.

“All right. Let’s get the hell outta here!”

Sayid steadied Jack as he climbed into the helicopter. Sawyer 
handed him the baby and boosted Kate up before climbing in 
himself.

“After we drop off everyone at the boat we can come back for 
Claire, right,” Hurley asked as the rotors powered up.

“Absolutely,” Jack replied. He fully planned on heading the 
search team for her himself once everyone – particularly the 
children – was safely on the freighter.

“Hands inside the vehicle,” Frank called cheerfully. “Let’s go 
for a ride!”

Sawyer slipped his arm around Jack’s shoulders, turning in 
toward him and gently resting his other hand on the bundle in 
Jack’s arms. Christine waved her arms a little and made a noise 
that was almost lost in the sound of the engine starting.

Sawyer gaped at Jack. “Did she just giggle?”

Jack laughed. “Yeah,” he called over the increasing noise. 

As the chopper lifted from the ground and carried them toward 
rescue they all felt – for the first time in a long time – a 
ray of hope for the future.

It didn’t last. 

A few minutes into the trip Frank announced that the chopper 
was losing fuel.

Jack tensed, clutching Christine tighter. “What?”

“Look outside, tell me if you see anything,” Frank shouted over 
the motor. 

It was Sayid who spotted the bullet hole hemorrhaging gasoline 
into the ocean. 

“We’ve gotta find a place to set ‘er down!”

“No,” Jack blurted. “Don’t land! There’s no fuel on the island. 
We’ve gotta get to the boat or this chopper’s useless!”

“I’m tellin’ ya, I don’t see the boat,” Frank argued, 
desperately trying to reason.

“Then keep looking!”

Sawyer sat stiffly and silently. He wanted to argue that they 
could find some other way to get fuel from the boat, but he 
wasn’t sure there *was* a way. And he knew Jack would never 
agree to risk it.

Frank seemed to reach the same conclusion as he then ordered 
everything “not bolted down” tossed overboard. Everyone but 
Jack – whose arms were otherwise occupied – complied, tossing 
equipment, the toolbox, a first aid kit and who knew what else 
into the water. 

“Is that enough,” Jack asked frantically as the last item 
splashed into the water below. “Can we make it?”

“I’d feel a helluva lot better if we were a few hundred pounds 
lighter!” Frank paused while the gravity of the situation sunk 
in. “Well, if we don’t make it, we’re still close enough to 
ditch it on the beach.”

“Hey! Do *not* go back to the island,” Jack snapped.

“We may not have a choice, Doc!”

Sawyer looked at the worried faces around him and realized 
suddenly what he had to do. All of them had reasons to want to 
go back to civilization – people and places to go back to – but 
his only reason was sitting right beside him. He knew he would 
gladly sacrifice himself if it meant Jack and Christine would 
be safe.

“Hey,” he called.

Jack tore his attention from Frank to look at Sawyer.

He didn’t have time to say all the things he wanted to say. He 
just cradled Jack’s head in his hands and pulled him close, 
whispering in his ear. “Take good care of Chrissy for me. I 
love you.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “Why are you saying this now?”

Sawyer just kissed him, throwing as much passion into it as he 
knew how, not knowing when or if he would ever get another 
chance. Then, with one last lingering look into his lover’s 
dazed eyes - and a brush of his fingers across Christine’s 
cheek – he turned and jumped from the helicopter.

“No, Sawyer!” Jack screamed, reaching instinctively to stop 
him. But it was too late and his hand clutched only empty air. 
He watched in horror as Sawyer hit the water below and 
disappeared. He felt Kate tense and reach for him as if afraid 
for a moment that he would jump after Sawyer, even with his 
daughter in his arms. He was barely aware of her. His eyes 
scanned the water frantically, his heart pounding. He didn’t 
realize he’d been holding his breath until he saw Sawyer’s head 
break the surface and air rushed into his constricted lungs. 

Sawyer looked up at the chopper one last time before beginning 
his swim back to the island.

Kate drew Jack back gently and wrapped her arm around his 
shoulders in as close an approximation of Sawyer’s embrace as 
was possible for her smaller frame. “He’ll be okay,” she said 
hollowly, her face drawn in pain. “We’ll go back for him after 
we drop everyone off.”

Jack just nodded and closed his eyes against his tears, trying 
not to think about the Dharma sharks.

********

Juliet was sitting on the beach when Sawyer emerged from the 
water. 

He grinned at her shocked expression. “Nice day for a swim.”

She stared at him blankly. “What are you doing here?” 

He wasn’t ready to explain all of the details of his near-
rescue to her yet. “Decided to take a dip.” He nodded to the 
bottle of Dharma Rum held in her slack grip. “What’cha 
celebratin’?”

She looked at him with an expression so numb and dejected he’d 
swear she had just learned she was dying. “I’m not 
celebrating.” She looked over his shoulder out at the water. He 
followed her gaze and froze, a cold spike of dread stabbing 
through him as he spotted the plume of smoke rising toward the 
sky.

“Is that our boat?”

She took a swig of rum. “It was.”

A moment later, Sawyer was on his feet and headed for the 
water, but he was barely conscious of the movement. An 
incoherent scream ripped from deep inside him, making Juliet 
jump. She lurched to her feet and stumbled after him, throwing 
her arms around him and digging her heels into the sand.

His balance upset, Sawyer collapsed to his knees, Juliet going 
down with him, still clutching him for dear life. His eyes 
blurred with enraged tears. “JACK!”

“I’m sorry...I’m sorry,” Juliet babbled, unable to think of 
anything else to say.

Sawyer could hardly take a breath, his throat constricting 
painfully. “Chrissy,” he gasped. Then all of the other faces of 
the people on the boat flashed through his mind. Kate, Hurley, 
Sayid...Aaron and Sun...and he doubled over in the sand and 
threw up.

Juliet rested one hand on his back helplessly, the other 
covering her mouth, fighting back tears of her own. She 
remained silent, not able to offer him any words of condolence 
or comfort. How could she comfort a man who – for the second 
time in his life – had lost everyone that mattered most to him 
all at once? Sawyer was barely aware of her anymore anyway – 
too lost in his grief to notice anything outside of his own 
collapsing world.

She didn’t know how long they remained like that until 
something in the distance caught her eye. Something small above 
the horizon but getting rapidly larger, moving away from the 
smoke and toward the island. She stared at it, blinking slowly, 
until she was confident she knew what it was. “James,” she 
breathed. “The helicopter.” She pointed at the object, still 
not sure it wasn’t a trick of her imagination. 

Sawyer looked up slowly in the direction she indicated. Sure 
enough, something was moving toward them...something that 
looked too big and moved too fast to be a bird. 

“Do you see it?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, not tearing his eyes from it. “I see it.” A 
spark of hope slowly lit within him and he climbed shakily to 
his feet, mentally praying to a god he had never believed in. 

A low hum started seemingly from nowhere and everywhere at 
once. Sawyer hardly paid attention to it. He didn’t care if 
that damned smoke monster was barreling down on him – he was 
rooted to his spot. The object got closer and closer until 
there was no doubt in either of their minds that it was the 
helicopter returning. The humming grew louder until it eclipsed 
all else and a bright light seemed to appear on the horizon, 
radiating outward and bathing everything in an unnaturally 
bright glow. Sawyer was forced to close his eyes and look away. 
It only lasted a second and then the light disappeared. Sawyer 
blinked rapidly as the world settled back into its former calm 
and his eyes widened. The helicopter – as well as the smoke 
from the destroyed freighter – was gone.

“What the hell just happened? Where’d they go?” His voice was 
raw and unsteady from overuse.

Juliet gaped, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly a few 
times before she stammered “they moved the island.”

Sawyer spun on her. “What?!”

“It’s a last resort. The Dharma Initiative...if the island and 
it’s people are in danger of being discovered...they’re 
instructed to move the island.”

Sawyer’s face twisted into a mask of anger and confusion in 
equal parts. “What d’ya mean move the goddamned island? What 
happened to the chopper?!”

Juliet’s mind raced, drawing up possible scenarios. Maybe the 
other, smaller island didn’t move. There wasn’t much space on 
it large enough to serve as a landing pad, but it could work. 
In all likelihood, though, they would be stranded with miles of 
ocean in every direction and if that happened they would 
inevitably run out of fuel. What were the odds of them 
surviving another horrific crash? She met Sawyer’s eyes, opened 
her mouth and did what she had learned to do naturally after 
years of working for Benjamin Linus: she lied.

“When the island moved, they moved with it. Obviously not to 
the same location. They could be approaching Australia, Florida 
or the Sahara. I don’t know. But if Jack and Christine were on 
that helicopter – and I have to believe they were – they’re 
alive and they’re safe.” 

In all likelihood it didn’t matter whether they were alive or 
dead. Either way, Sawyer would never see them again. Even if 
they survived, they wouldn’t know how or where to find the 
island. It was kinder to let Sawyer hang on to the small thread 
of hope - that belief that he had made the right choice leaving 
them and forfeiting his own chance at rescue – than it was to 
tell him the truth.

*********
(2 1/2 years later)

Sawyer was just getting to the best part of his well-worn novel 
when someone knocked on the door of his cabin. He tried to 
ignore it – probably just that Greg guy checking up on him. 
Seeing if he was still alive.

“Nobody home,” he called when the knocking didn’t stop.

The knocking changed to pounding.

Sawyer ripped off his glasses. “Go away!”

“Sawyer,” a muffled voice called.

Sawyer froze, his heart starting to pound. No. It couldn’t 
be... The glasses and book all but fell absently from his hands 
onto the table and he made it to the door in seconds. He threw 
it open and gaped at the man standing on his porch. “Jack.”

Jack smiled almost shyly. “Hey.” He laughed as Sawyer swept him 
into an embrace so enthusiastic that he felt his feet leave the 
ground for a moment.

“Jesus, Doc,” Sawyer breathed, peppering Jack’s face with 
reverent kisses. “Thought I’d lost you...what the hell 
happened? Is Chrissy all right?”

Jack plunged his fingers into Sawyer’s still-shoulder length 
hair – someone must have cut it, he thought absently – and 
guided Sawyer’s lips to his, kissing him with all the passion 
and hunger of a man reunited with a long lost love. “Chrissy’s 
fine. I’ll explain later,” he panted when the need for air 
finally drove him to pull back. “We should go before they leave 
without us.”

“Go,” Sawyer repeated dumbly.

Jack grinned and Sawyer felt his chest ache at the almost 
forgotten sight. “Home.”

*******

They were the last ones on the boat, except of course, for the 
few who still elected to stay on the island. The New Others, 
Sawyer called them, although some of them were actually the 
original Others. Locke, naturally, was their leader.

The helicopter ride to the ship was harrowing and Sawyer 
thought maybe the pilot – a man he didn’t recognize – would 
assume that was the reason he was clinging to Jack’s hand like 
a lifeline. In reality, he couldn’t stop touching Jack – afraid 
that if he broke that simple connection this would all prove to 
be a very vivid dream. He knew from the way Jack clung right 
back that the doctor felt the same way.

A familiar face greeted Sawyer as they stepped onto the boat 
and clapped him on the back. “Welcome back, brother,” he called 
over the noise of the chopper powering down.

Sawyer gaped at Desmond and the unfamiliar faces moving about 
the deck, speechless.

Desmond barely noticed. “Is that everyone,” he asked Jack.

“Yeah,” Jack called back.

Desmond grinned. “Right! I’ll tell Penny. We’ll be off in a 
few.”

“Penny,” Sawyer asked, dazed, as Desmond rushed off.

“His wife. It’s their boat,” Jack explained as he guided Sawyer 
across the deck, down some stairs, and along a long corridor. 

“Where we goin’?”

Jack threw open a door and pushed Sawyer into a small room with 
a cot shoved against one wall.

“Oh,” was all he got out before Jack attacked his lips again. 
He growled and shoved Jack against the door the second it 
closed, trapping him there with the weight of his body.

Jack moaned and fumbled to unbutton Sawyer’s shirt. Sawyer 
turned his attention to Jack’s neck, kissing, licking and 
biting in equal measure and Jack’s head fell back against the 
door with a dull thud. Sawyer’s knee slipped between his legs, 
pressing his rapidly hardening cock against Jack’s hip. Jack 
whimpered and writhed against the Southerner, shamelessly 
riding his thigh.

“I missed you,” Sawyer murmured into Jack’s neck, tearing at 
the doctor’s shirt. “So much...” He swallowed the lump that 
threatened to rise in his throat. He had dwelled enough in his 
misery and regrets in the past couple years. He wouldn’t think 
about it now that Jack had been returned to him alive and well.

“Sawyer,” Jack whined, tearing at his shirt. “Please.”

Sawyer groaned, his mind racing with all the things he wanted 
to do with Jack – all the fantasies and dreams that had 
tortured him in their time apart, before the dread that they 
may never be reunited – that Jack was really dead – had fully 
sunk in. He ran his hands restlessly over Jack’s chest – still 
smooth, he noted – and laved his ear, nibbling on the ridge 
lightly. He flicked one nipple gently with his thumb and Jack 
groaned and arched into him. Sawyer kissed a light trail down 
his chest and bathed the stiff peaks with his tongue one at a 
time. Jack groaned louder and wove his fingers in Sawyer’s 
hair, fingering the strands gently as if to remind himself of 
the feel of it.

Sawyer kissed his way down Jack’s abdomen, lingering reverently 
on the scar that was really the only remaining evidence of his 
pregnancy. Jack bit his lip, his eyes softening, but Sawyer 
didn’t notice, too focused on relearning his lover’s body. He 
fumbled to undo Jack’s jeans, sliding the material down 
impatiently, eager to take Jack in his mouth, to taste him for 
the first time in years.

Jack moaned, his head falling back against the wall with a dull 
thud as he was engulfed in wet heat. His hands wrapped around 
Sawyer’s wrists, grounding himself, and he felt Sawyer’s thumbs 
massage tiny, soothing circles on his hips.

He came embarrassingly fast, bucking against Sawyer’s tight 
grip. When he floated slowly back to reality Sawyer’s face was 
buried in his abdomen, kissing his dampening skin tenderly, his 
solid grip steadying Jack, keeping him from sagging to the 
floor. He took deep, steadying breaths and ran his fingers 
through Sawyer’s hair, gently unknotting the strands he’d 
tangled.

Sawyer got slowly back to his feet, recapturing Jack’s lips. He 
ground against Jack’s hip once, restlessly, and stopped with a 
groan, prying his lips away and pressing his forehead to Jack’s 
neck, trying to force his arousal down.

“Tell me you got condoms, Doc, cause I wanna be inside you so 
bad,” Sawyer muttered, his voice rumbling in a way that made 
Jack’s stomach flutter in anticipation.

A small shudder went through Jack’s body and he wrapped his 
arms around Sawyer’s shoulders, fingers absently massaging the 
back of his neck. “Yeah,” he breathed. “Backpack...next to the 
bed.” He kissed Sawyer’s jaw, marveling at the surprisingly 
small amount of stubble. He shoved Sawyer’s well-worn shirt 
from his shoulders as Sawyer’s tongue explored his mouth in 
slow, deep plunges, mimicking what he wanted to do to Jack’s 
body.

He pulled back when Jack’s fingers started fumbling with his 
jeans. “Bed,” he growled.

Jack reluctantly untangled himself from Sawyer, tugged his 
jeans back up over his hips, and stumbled to the cot.

It took Sawyer a minute to figure out the door locks. By the 
time he engaged them and turned around Jack had already 
retrieved condoms and lubricant from the pack and removed the 
rest of his clothes. Sawyer resisted the urge to pinch himself 
to make sure this was all really real. He felt a little better 
when he felt the vibrations of the ship’s engine’s roaring to 
life beneath his feet. He crossed the room and peeled off his 
own clothes while Jack made himself comfortable on the cot. 
Sawyer tossed the last of his clothes on the floor and knelt 
over Jack. Jack’s breathing deepened and his eyes ran over 
Sawyer’s body, taking in the familiar landscape. Then he 
frowned and reached out to touch Sawyer’s straining cock. 

Sawyer’s hips jolted and he hissed, but Jack’s touch wasn’t 
meant to excite. “When was your last outbreak,” he asked, 
sounding far away and clinically detached.

Sawyer groaned. “You tryin’ to kill the mood here? I already 
told you it was before I met you.” He fumbled with a condom 
packet but Jack’s hand covered his, halting his progress.

“And you haven’t...since I left...”

Sawyer sighed heavily. “No. Not ‘less you count my left hand. 
Why?”

Jack gently pried the packet from his hand. “Then you don’t 
need that.”

Sawyer watched him toss it back toward the backpack, his lust-
addled brain straining to catch up. “But what about...”

“I had an operation,” Jack said, a wary expression tempering 
his own lust. “I can’t get pregnant without IVF anymore.”

“Oh.” An unfamiliar mix of emotions hit Sawyer at the 
declaration. He expected the relief – that much he understood. 
What he hadn’t expected was the disappointment that came along 
with it. In spite of himself, he had grown attached to 
Christine in the brief time he’d spent with her. Her face had 
haunted him just as much as Jack’s had in their absence until 
he was forced to admit that he missed her. He had remembered 
what Jack had looked like when he was pregnant – the look of 
exhilaration and wonder he’d had the first time she had moved – 
and wondered what it would be like to do it all over again with 
his own flesh and blood. He shoved the thought aside and 
refocused on Jack, sprawled beneath him, letting the red haze 
of lust take over again.

Something that looked oddly like relief flashed in Jack’s eyes 
and he reached to push a lock of hair behind Sawyer’s ear. “You 
okay?”

Sawyer caught his hand and kissed the sensitive skin on the 
inside of his wrist. “’m fine.”

Jack smiled and spread his legs a bit wider invitingly. “Then 
what’re you waiting for?”

Sawyer groaned and fumbled for the lube, coating two fingers 
and recapturing Jack’s lips in a hungry kiss as he slid one 
home.

Jack moaned and tilted his head, inviting Sawyer’s tongue 
deeper, tangling it with his own. His soft gasp was swallowed 
as Sawyer’s finger found the perfect angle inside him, sending 
small sparks chasing through his sated body. He pried his lips 
away with a wince as Sawyer pushed a second finger inside and 
began gently stretching him open.

“Relax,” Sawyer breathed in his ear, pressing both fingers up 
hard, making Jack buck and whimper as his body tightened, 
trying to draw it out. He clung to Sawyer’s back and buried his 
face in the tanned neck. 

“I haven’t...since...” he gasped.

Sawyer stifled a groan. “I know, baby.” It wasn’t really 
surprising that Jack would remain faithful to him. He would be 
too stubborn to entertain the possibility that they might never 
see each other again. “I’ll try to be gentle.”

Jack hitched his hips, forcing the fingers deeper, his body 
unresisting as Sawyer added a third. “No, it’s okay,” he 
gasped. “I’m ready.”

Sawyer dug the nails of his free hand into his palm, reigning 
in his control tightly. “Don’t wanna hurt you,” he muttered.

“You won’t.” 

“Jack...”

“Shut up and fuck me.”

Sawyer groaned and pulled his hand free, reaching for the lube. 
“Yes, sir,” he muttered.

Jack’s back arched and he let out a soft cry as Sawyer finally 
thrust inside him. His body spasmed around his lover, 
relearning the feeling of being filled so perfectly.

Sawyer hissed and held himself rigid, giving Jack a chance to 
adjust, the tight, gripping heat threatening to send him over 
the edge before he even started. “You okay,” he gasped, his 
voice tight.

Jack moaned a vague affirmative and wrapped his legs tighter 
around Sawyer’s waist. 

Sawyer groaned as the movement caused him to shift and slide a 
little bit deeper. “Fuck...so good...missed you so much.” He 
buried his face in Jack’s neck and started rocking his hips in 
tiny thrusts, barely pulling out of Jack’s clenching body 
before plunging back in.

Jack’s hands roamed over his back restlessly, his hips moving 
in easy counterpoint.

Sawyer captured his mouth in a bruising kiss, his strokes slow 
and deep, thrusting harder as he felt Jack’s body open to him.

Jack tried to grip the cot beneath him, his arms flailing in 
the air for a moment, unable to find purchase. He made a 
frustrated noise and returned his hands to Sawyer’s shoulders. 
A moment later, Sawyer tried to shift his weight and hissed 
when his knee struck the metal frame of the cot. Jack took it 
as a cue and shoved at Sawyer’s chest suddenly, rolling them 
off the cot in a less than graceful maneuver. 

Sawyer grunted as his back hit the floor and groaned as Jack 
landed on top of him. He grimaced as his cock slipped free with 
the movement and was assaulted by the cool air.

“That’s better,” Jack mumbled, reaching for Sawyer’s cock and 
guiding it back inside him, sighing as it slid home, going 
deeper than before. 

Sawyer’s thoughts stilled momentarily at the feeling of being 
inside his lover again. Then he muttered “I’m fine. Just a 
couple broken ribs.”

Jack knew he was being sarcastic and leaned forward, bracing 
his hands on Sawyer’s chest. “Shut up,” he gasped. He rolled 
his hips in a languid thrust and sighed.

Sawyer took advantage of his new freedom of movement, smoothing 
his hands over as much of Jack’s body as he could reach, 
testing his own memory of his lover’s most sensitive spots, 
delighting in the helpless little noises each touch elicited. A 
lump rose in his throat as he took in the sight of Jack riding 
him, eyes bright and partly glazed in pleasure. “You’re 
prettier ‘n I remembered,” he whispered.

Jack chuckled breathlessly. “You don’t need to flatter me. 
Besides...everyone knows you’re the pretty one.”

Sawyer grunted and lurched up, clutching Jack tightly to him 
and rolling them over in one swift, dizzying movement. “I’ll 
show you flattery.”

Jack’s surprised laugh turned to a gasp as Sawyer drove into 
him at just the right angle, making a flash of heat surge 
through him, drowning all thought. “Oh...”

Sawyer grinned. “That it, baby?”

Jack just groaned and arched his back, hips thrusting up to 
meet Sawyer’s, digging his fingers into strong, tanned 
shoulders.

Sawyer gripped Jack’s hips, holding him still as he let go of 
the last remnants of his control, slamming into his prostate 
again and again. He covered Jack’s lips in a bruising kiss, 
smothering the cry of pleasure as Jack went tense and shuddered 
powerfully beneath him. Sawyer followed close behind with a 
wild shout and collapsing on top of his welcoming body.

When Jack regained control of his senses he reached to comb 
trembling fingers through Sawyer’s hair, brushing it back from 
his face. “We’re going to be feeling that tomorrow,” he gasped.

Sawyer caught his hand and pressed a kiss to the delicate skin 
on the inside of his wrist. “See if I care.” 

**********
(2 years earlier)

Kate was just getting out of the shower when she heard 
Christine crying. She listened for Aaron’s voice on the baby 
monitor on the counter but heard nothing. She relaxed. Jack 
would take care of it. She smiled softly as she reached for a 
towel, wondering when she had learned to tell the children 
apart by their cries alone. Maybe Claire had been right – 
mothering was coming naturally to her.

Her smile faded when the cries didn’t stop. She changed the 
channel on the baby monitor to Christine’s room. “Jack?”

Only Christine’s frantic cries answered her. She pulled on a 
robe and stuffed the monitor in one pocket, dashing out of the 
bathroom and down the hall to Christine’s room. Jack was 
nowhere to be found.

“Okay, it’s okay,” she murmured, lifting Christine into her 
arms. “I’m sorry. I’m here...”

She searched every room she passed on the way to the kitchen 
and a few more – absently – while she gave Christine a bottle. 
She tried to stay calm when she couldn’t find Jack anywhere. 
‘Get Chrissy settled, look again, then call the police,’ she 
thought frantically.

Luckily Christine always dropped right to sleep after a 
feeding. Kate got her tucked back into her crib, made sure she 
was out for the time being and hurried to check the rest of the 
house, calling Jack’s name loudly in an increasingly panicked 
voice.

She found him in the new nursery, the room they’d intended to 
move Christine into once they’d finished it. He was lying on 
the floor, curled on his side, his eyes red and swollen from 
tears.

She dropped to her knees in front of him, bending until her 
face was level with his. “Jack,” she called softly, placing a 
hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I can’t do this,” he mumbled, his voice raw, barely louder 
than a whisper.

She shook her head. “Can’t do what, Jack? What happened? Are 
you hurt?”

“He should be here,” Jack continued like he hadn’t heard her. 
He probably hadn’t, she realized.

She blew out a breath, her heart slowing to a calmer pace. 
“We’ve been through this, Jack,” she said gently. This was not 
the first time he had sunk into a depressed state since they 
had returned to civilization. She had talked him down from the 
metaphorical ledge a few times. But he had never sunk so far 
that he couldn’t even function enough to take care of his 
daughter. Kate worried that at this rate she may have to talk 
him from an actual ledge sometime soon.

His eyes met hers, painfully red-rimmed and shining with tears 
he no longer had enough energy to cry. “We should never have 
left.”

She cringed inwardly. “We couldn’t stay. You know that.”

His eyes slid away, focusing on his hands, clenched in loose 
fists in front of him.

Kate sighed again and pushed herself upright enough to crawl 
over him, pressing herself to his back and winding her arms 
around his chest. She craned her neck to kiss his cheek, her 
heart breaking a little as the sharp, salty taste of his tears 
lingered on her lips. “You can’t keep blaming yourself,” she 
murmured in his ear. “You couldn’t have stopped him. He thought 
it was the only way to save you...to save us. None of us knew 
Ben could move the island.”

“What if he didn’t make it back,” Jack mumbled

Kate’s arms tightened. “He made it,” she said firmly. “He’s a 
stronger swimmer than any of us. And he’s a survivor. I’m sure 
he’s sitting on the beach drinking Dharma beer and waiting for 
us to find him.” She smiled softly at the thought. She could 
just picture him flashing a dimpled smile and drawling ‘bout 
damned time y’all came back’.

Jack’s lips twitched slightly at the thought, his eyes burning 
as they tried vainly to expel tears. Some distant voice inside 
him told him he needed to drink something – keep hydrated. The 
voice sounded a lot like his father’s. He closed his eyes, 
taking a deep, shaky breath.

“We won’t stop looking,” Kate said firmly, reaching to lace her 
fingers with his and squeezing gently. “We’ll find him.”

He nodded slowly and squeezed her hand back.

Kate fell silent for a while, giving Jack a chance to surface 
from the pit of despair he’d thrown himself into. She looked 
around the room as best she could from her position, absently 
noting that they would need a dresser, some curtains and maybe 
a bookshelf and something that could serve as a changing table 
before Christine could move in. She admired the crib Sayid had 
given them as a gift for the umpteenth time. “I need to do some 
shopping tomorrow. Will you be okay here with the kids?” She 
wasn’t sure it was a good idea to leave him alone for long, but 
Jack was likely to get even more upset if she hovered over him. 
Besides, she wouldn’t have to be gone *that* long.

He sighed and closed his eyes. “Yeah.”

“I’ll have my cell with me...”

“Don’t forget the pad.”

She smiled. He must be feeling better if he was worried about 
that. “Of course.” She hugged him tightly and felt him sink 
back into her embrace gratefully. “Everything’s going to be 
okay. I promise.”

He sniffled, but nodded.

“Should I get a blanket?”

He groaned. “No, if I sleep here I’ll never get up.”

“Okay.” She pressed another kiss to his cheek and slowly 
detangled herself, climbing to her feet and bending to help him 
up. He managed to sit up on his own, but leaned heavily on her 
to stand. He swayed slightly and she tightened her grip on his 
shoulders. “You okay?”

He nodded wearily. “I’m fine. I just need water.” He winced 
suddenly, his grip on her arms tightening.

Her hands went to his abdomen and she winced as she felt sharp 
little blows to her palms. “I’ll get it. You go lay down and 
try to relax.”

He sighed heavily. “I’m sorry I keep doing this.”

She cut him off with a finger pressed to his lips. “Stop 
apologizing.” She cradled his cheek for a moment and smiled 
affectionately. “Go to bed. I’ll bring the water in a couple 
minutes.”

***********
(Present)

Sawyer woke up and immediately registered the lack of a warm 
body beside him. He panicked momentarily – afraid that the 
rescue had been a cruel dream – until he felt the gentle 
rocking that could only come from being on a boat.

He opened his eyes and blinked at the figure sitting hunched in 
a chair beside the cot. “What the hell’re you doin’ over 
there,” he slurred sleepily. “Come back to bed.”

Jack didn’t move and when he spoke his voice was so soft Sawyer 
almost didn’t hear him. “Do you love me?”

Sawyer forced himself closer to consciousness, frowning at the 
perplexed look on Jack’s face. “What?”

“Do you love me,” Jack repeated.

Sawyer groaned, letting his head fall back on the cot. “Yes, 
all right? How many time you gonna make me say it before you 
believe me? You’re worse than a goddamned girl.”

“Do you love Christine?”

Sawyer looked at Jack again, confused. This was new. “Yeah,” he 
said without hesitation. “I do.” It had taken a forced 
separation for him to realize just how much, but he honestly 
did.

Jack sighed and looked down at the folded paper clutched in his 
hands, his fingers playing with the edges nervously. “I need to 
know you’re not going to run,” he said, his voice tight. “I 
need your word that you won’t leave because I don’t think...” 
his voice caught and he swallowed. “I don’t think I could take 
losing you again.”

Sawyer sat up, fully awake now. “What is this about?”

Jack sighed and leveled his gaze with Sawyer’s, his eyes 
pleading desperately for something Sawyer wasn’t sure he 
understood. “Please, just...before Chrissy was born you said 
you weren’t cut out to be a father. If you don’t think you can 
handle it I need to know now.”

A knot of dread settled in Sawyer’s stomach at the gravity in 
Jack’s voice. Surely fate wasn’t cruel enough to reunite them 
only to force them apart again. “You dyin’?”

Jack huffed, his increasing frustration threatening to turn to 
anger. “No, I’m not *dying*, would you just...”

“Good,” Sawyer interrupted. “Cause I ain’t plannin’ on lettin’ 
you or Chrissy go without a fight.”

Jack faltered, his face slowly softening as Sawyer’s words sunk 
in.

“You gonna tell me what this is about,” Sawyer prompted.

Jack hesitated a moment longer, then slowly handed the paper 
over. 

Sawyer took it warily. “What’s this?” He didn’t wait for an 
answer before opening it. He froze, staring stupidly at the 
printed digital picture, trying to work out what it implied.

It was a picture of Jack, Kate and the kids. From the simple 
tree in the background it was obvious it had been taken around 
Christmas. The child sitting on Kate’s lap could only be Aaron, 
just as the angelic looking little girl plastered to Jack’s 
side with her head on his shoulder could only be Christine, 
though he barely recognized either as they had grown so much 
since he’d last seen them. But what really drew Sawyer’s 
attention was the third child perched on Jack’s lap.

“About a month after we were rescued,” Jack began softly. “I 
found out I was pregnant. That...is your son.”

Sawyer didn’t look up, too stunned to reply – though a part of 
him had known before Jack had said the words. The little boy 
flashing a wide, dimpled smile at the camera had dark, soulful 
eyes and barely tamed dirty blond hair. There was no mistaking 
who his parents were. “How old is he?”

“Almost two and a half,” Jack said tentatively. “When Ben moved 
the island...”

“We lost a year,” Sawyer finished. “I know. That Danny guy said 
as much before he...” He shook his head and ran a finger 
absently along the curve of the boy’s rounded face. “What’s his 
name,” he asked quietly.

“James.”

Sawyer looked up, startled and Jack smiled sheepishly.

“I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again,” he explained.

Sawyer’s eyes returned to the picture and he shook his head in 
amazement. “When did you...” He trailed off with a soft groan, 
closing his eyes. “The condom.”

“Yeah.” Jack slowly moved to sit on the edge of the cot by 
Sawyer’s drawn-up knees, reaching a tentative hand to rest on 
the man’s arm. He gasped in surprise as Sawyer abruptly grabbed 
him by the chin and covered his lips in a bruising kiss.

The need for air forced Sawyer to break the kiss, but he didn’t 
stop touching Jack. “I can’t promise anythin’,” he murmured, 
stroking Jack’s cheek with his knuckles. “But I’ll give it my 
damndest.” He knew he couldn’t depend on Jack and a possible 
settlement with Oceanic forever. And if he fell back on his old 
ways Jack would more than likely leave him. But now that he had 
Jack again he couldn’t imagine life without him – kids and all. 
A tiger may not be able to change his stripes, but Sawyer could 
damn well *try* to beat those odds. “Jesus...you were 
pregnant...” He dropped one hand to Jack’s abdomen as if he 
could still feel the ghost of their son. “When that boat blew 
up an’ I thought you were dead...” he shook his head. “I damn 
near threw myself in after you. Jules spent months convincin’ 
me you were alive somewhere.”

Jack’s face screwed up in pain.

“What happened out there?”

“Desmond warned us about a bomb when we landed on the boat. We 
patched up the chopper, refueled and took off before it blew 
up.” He hesitated, lost for a moment in the horror of the 
memory. “Then there was a light and the island 
just...disappeared. Sayid barely had time to throw the raft out 
before we crashed.”

Images of Jack and Christine and twisted metal flooded Sawyer’s 
mind and he tamped down a rising queasiness. ‘They made it,’ he 
reminded himself. ‘They survived.’

“I passed out. Next thing I knew, I was waking up underwater 
and Desmond was dragging me to the raft. Hurley was on it 
already with Chrissy. And Sun with Aaron. Between nursing both 
of them, the pregnancy and the trauma I was so exhausted and 
weak by the time the ship arrived they needed a sling to haul 
me on board. It’s a miracle I didn’t miscarry.”

Sawyer pulled Jack into his arms and Jack went easily, curling 
into Sawyer’s warmth, pressing his head to one muscled 
shoulder. 

“Go on,” Sawyer encouraged, rubbing Jack’s arm.

Jack sighed. “We realized that Charles Widmore had put a lot of 
money and effort into convincing the world that there were no 
survivors of Oceanic 815. He dug up hundreds of bodies and 
staged the wreckage deep enough underwater that nobody could 
bring it back up. He didn’t want anyone looking for us – for 
the island. So we pretended to be the only survivors, the seven 
of us. Penny helped us stage a rescue. We told everyone the 
rest of you were dead.” Jack’s grip tightened minutely, as if 
reassuring himself again that it was only a lie. “We said you 
were all dead to protect you from him. But we didn’t stop 
looking. Secretly. Being careful not to let Widmore figure out 
what we were doing. A year after we left, Ben appeared. He told 
Sayid that the island had moved through time – that we hadn’t 
been able to find it because when it moved it had basically 
ceased to exist. It took us a year and a half to find it – 
partly because it didn’t reappear until a year after Ben did.” 
He pulled back a little to look into Sawyer’s face, gently 
tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. “It’s only been a year 
for you since we left.”

“Two,” Sawyer corrected. “Spent a year back in 1977 ‘fore Danny 
Boy got us righted again. Last thing he ever did.”

Jack blinked. “1977?”

“Don’t ask,” Sawyer grumbled. “Let’s just say I think I saw the 
‘incident’ the Dharma folk were always goin’ on about first 
hand. And Einstein was at ground zero. Guess he overshot it a 
little since we lost a whole year.” He caught the look of 
silent wonder in Jack’s eyes. “What?”

Jack shook his head, snapping himself out of it. “Nothing, I 
just...you were celibate for two years?”

Sawyer snorted indignantly. “That really so hard to believe?”

“No, I...well, I mean...you *were* sort of a...manwhore,” Jack 
mumbled.

Sawyer nearly laughed out loud at the awkwardness of such a 
word coming from Jack’s mouth. That and the rush of blood to 
his face that turned the tips of his ears red. “Yeah, 
well...guess you cured me o’ that, huh? ‘sides, I wasn’t 
exactly *celibate*. You gave me plenty of material to keep me 
busy. ‘specially that little memory of you tearin’ my clothes 
off and ridin’ me like a damn bronco, all wild-eyed, pregnant 
and glowin’.” His fingers massaged the back of Jack’s neck 
softly and he smiled affectionately. “Seein’ you lose control 
like that’s better ‘n’ porn any day.”

Jack gave a small, embarrassed smile before settling back into 
Sawyer’s embrace.

“I can’t believe I missed it again,” Sawyer bemoaned. “You 
givin’ birth.”

Jack made a soft noise somewhere between a snort and a dry 
chuckle. “I pretty much missed it too. I had to be sedated.”

Sawyer frowned. “’s that normal?”

“Yeah, when the person you’re trying to cut into can’t stop 
shaking and convulsing. Hurley had to help Kate get me to the 
hospital – I could barely walk.”

Sawyer winced. “That bad, huh?”

“Mmm. I never really appreciated how easy Christine was. JJ was 
a lot more...energetic. And colicky.”

“JJ?”

Jack lifted his head. “Oh. We call him JJ. James Junior.” A 
sheepish look came over his face. “You like it?”

Sawyer shrugged. “I can live with it.”

“I had a lot of time to think about his name since I 
practically spent the whole last trimester in bed, but nothing 
else seemed right.”

Sawyer stared at him, silently demanding further explanation. 

“Oh. There were days he wouldn’t stop kicking me.”

Sawyer recalled the pain Jack had been in late in his first 
pregnancy when Christine had kicked for even a minute straight. 
“Christ...” he muttered. “I shoulda been there.”

Jack grabbed the hand Sawyer moved toward his face. “Don’t. 
Kate was there and I sprained her wrist and said a lot of 
things I regretted later. I think she nearly had a nervous 
breakdown taking care of me and the kids for that first year. 
If you need to apologize to someone, you can talk to her, but 
I’m actually glad you didn’t have to see me like that.”

Sawyer wanted to argue – wanted to say he would gladly have 
taken the abuse if it would have made Jack’s pain more 
tolerable – but he knew the man was right. Jack would not have 
wanted him there, would have fought to keep him at arm’s 
length. So instead Sawyer changed the subject.

“You never said how you got back without that Whitmore guy 
catchin’ wind o’ ya.”

“Widmore’s dead.”

“Oh.”

“Couple months ago. Coroner thinks he commited suicide. Ben 
died right around the same time. I’m not so sure it was a 
coincidence.”

Sawyer recalled the shock, fury, and cold resignation on Ben’s 
face when his daughter had been killed and silently agreed that 
it sounded suspicious. “So how’d you know where to find us?”

“Daniel’s mother.”

Sawyer’s fingers froze in their unconscious wandering over 
Jack’s shoulder. “*Daniel’s* mother?”

“Don’t ask.”

Sawyer shrugged. He doubted he would fully understand anyway. 
“Don’t matter how you found it. You’re here now.” He tilted 
Jack’s chin upward and flashed him a dimpled smile. “The rest 
ain’t important.”

Jack smiled back softly and parted his lips, meeting Sawyer’s 
kiss halfway.

*******

The next time Sawyer woke alone in bed he had only a moment to 
panic before registering the chair beside the head of his cot 
with Jack’s backpack perched on it. He rubbed the sleep from 
his eyes and extracted the piece of paper Jack had left half-
hidden under it. 

‘Went to find Claire,’ it said simply. ‘Love you.’

Sawyer smiled, crawled slowly out of bed, and began gathering 
his scattered clothes from the floor of the cabin.

*******

He found them at the port railing, watching a couple of whales 
swimming in the distance and talking quietly.

Sawyer crept up quietly and slid his hands around Jack’s waist 
from behind, pulling their bodies flush and nuzzling the 
doctor’s neck.

“Really, must you always feel my brother up while we’re 
talking,” Claire asked lightly, her eyes twinkling with 
amusement.

Sawyer sighed dramatically and slowly withdrew his arms. 
“Alright then, I guess I’ll go back to my room.” He smirked as 
Jack twisted around in his arms and kissed him 
enthusiastically. “That’s better,” he murmured against Jack’s 
lips.

Jack hummed and pulled Sawyer back against him, soaking in his 
warmth in the cool morning air. “We were just talking about the 
kids.”

“I may think twice about sitting my new nephew,” Claire added 
with a wink.

Sawyer’s eyebrow raised slightly and he looked at Jack. 
“Really?”

“He’s two,” Jack defended. “They don’t call that age ‘terrible’ 
for nothing. Though he’s always been more difficult than 
Chrissy or Aaron...”

Claire sighed. “I can’t believe I missed three years of my 
son’s life.”

“Join the club, sister,” Sawyer muttered. “So...you adopted 
Aaron?”

Jack’s fingers faltered in their rhythmic circles on Sawyer’s 
back. “No. When we got back we kind of had a lot of public 
attention. We said Aaron and Christine were Kate’s to avoid 
turning it into a circus.”

‘Freaks and all,’ Sawyer thought and held back a wince.

“When my pregnancy started to show I basically went into 
hiding. Kate wore pregnancy pads when she went out in public – 
the kind actors use to fake pregnancies – and we passed JJ off 
as hers too. When Widmore died and we could finally admit we 
weren’t the only survivors we told everybody we lied about 
Aaron to protect him and Claire and turned him over to Claire’s 
mother.”

“Wait...” Sawyer felt his head spin a little. “Thought you said 
your momma was dead.”

Claire shook her head, a rejuvenated smile spreading across her 
face. “She was in a coma. I guess she woke up.”

“She approached me at dad’s funeral,” Jack added.

“So everyone thinks Chris and...JJ are Freckles’ kids?”

Jack shrugged. “Why wouldn’t they?” He brushed a wind-blown 
strand of hair from Sawyer’s eyes. “We’ll tell the kids the 
truth when they’re older, but right now they’re too young to 
understand where babies even come from, much less how they are 
different.”

“So I don’t suppose you’ve tracked down Chrissy’s daddy then.”

Jack froze, his breath faltering. 

Sawyer misunderstood his hesitance. “Yeah, yeah, I know. *I’m* 
her daddy, but I ain’t been around and I figure the guy oughta 
know he knocked you up.”

“I...” Jack made a sputtering, coughing noise, closed his eyes, 
took a deep breath and tried again. “I can’t. He’s dead.”

Sawyer’s expression softened a little, though he couldn’t help 
but feel a small measure of relief to know that he wouldn’t 
have to compete with Christine’s “real” father. “You found 
‘im,” he said lamely.

“So did you. We buried him on the island.”

Sawyer stared dumbly at Jack. “What?”

“It was Boone,” Jack said softly.

Sawyer heard Claire gasp, reassuring him that he wasn’t the 
only one Jack had kept this secret from. “Boone. The skinny kid 
you damn near killed y’rself tryin’ to save?”

Jack flinched and nodded slowly.

“Oh, Jack...” Claire’s hand fell lightly on Jack’s arm, unsure, 
but wanting to lend what support she could.

Sawyer’s arms fell slack, slipping from Jack’s waist to hang 
limp at his sides. “You slept with him?”

Jack clung to Sawyer’s neck, preventing him from backing away. 
“No! Well, yes, but it was just that one time. Before the 
island. I was drunk and desperate and he wanted to experiment. 
I didn’t know his name. I thought I would never see him again. 
When I did...we both agreed not to talk about what happened. We 
would pretend it *didn’t* happen.”

“Why didn’t you tell me he was Chrissy’s daddy,” Sawyer 
demanded. 

“I didn’t know...”

“Yes, you did. Right after she was born. You said her daddy was 
some guy ‘t fucked you in a gay bar. Said you didn’t know him. 
You lied.”

Jack’s mouth opened and closed impotently, unable to think of 
anything to say. Mostly because Sawyer was right. Jack 
shouldn’t have lied to him about that – no matter how good his 
intensions may have been.

“Know what? Forget it.” Sawyer reached up and pried Jack’s arms 
from around his neck, backing away. “I ain’t talkin’ about this 
in front of your sister.” He dropped Jack’s hands 
unceremoniously and turned, heading back toward their cabin. 

“Wait,” Jack blurted, moving to follow, but Claire’s arm around 
his shoulders stopped him. 

“Let him go,” she murmured. “Give him some time.”

Jack sagged into her loose hug and nodded dejectedly, blinking 
back a couple tears.

********

Sawyer was sitting in the chair staring at the Christmas photo 
when Jack returned to the cabin. He didn’t look up as Jack 
slipped quietly through the door. 

“Always thought she looked more like you an’ your daddy.”

“She does,” Jack said quietly, moving toward Sawyer and 
stopping in front of his chair, standing awkwardly.

“It all makes sense now, don’t it? You damn near drainin’ 
yourself dry to save ‘im.”

Jack shook his head. “I’m a universal donor. I would have done 
it for any of them.”

“Yeah? Would you’ve run yourself into th’ ground goin’ after 
the guy you thought killed ‘em too?”

Jack went quiet and dropped to his knees in front of Sawyer, 
reaching to rest a tentative hand on his knee. 

Sawyer caught his wrist and squeezed painfully tight. “Why’d 
you lie t’ me,” he growled. 

“Because I didn’t want you to think you had to compete with a 
dead man,” Jack practically whispered.

Sawyer snorted in disbelief. “You ‘xpect me to believe that?”

“No. Please, just...let me finish.”

Sawyer grunted and released Jack’s hand. 

Jack hesitated a moment, then rested his hand on Sawyer’s 
thigh, relaxing in relief when Sawyer didn’t resist him. He 
took a deep breath and started over. “Boone was a one night 
stand. I didn’t know his name. I thought I would never see him 
again. I didn’t know I was pregnant...I didn’t know it was 
*possible* for me to be pregnant until after he died. And then, 
I thought Christine was yours. I *wanted* her to be yours so 
much that I made excuses for any anomalies in the pregnancy 
that might have told me that was impossible – that she was 
developing too fast. I convinced myself that they were just my 
imagination – that I wasn’t an expert on pregnancy and 
childbirth.” Jack took a breath and blinked back tears. “After 
I found out... At first I was afraid to tell you. You were so 
good with her...with me...I was afraid you would leave.”

“So you lied,” Sawyer concluded, his voice flat and 
emotionless.

Jack shook his head. “No. I told you the truth. I just left a 
few details out. I figured it didn’t matter who Christine’s 
father was. He was dead. He could never be a part of her life.”

Sawyer grumbled under his breath.

“He was never part of *my* life. It was one night. I don’t 
regret it because he gave me Chris. He was a good man and I’m 
glad a part of him will live on, but it’s only DNA. He was...a 
sperm donor. *You* are her father.” Jack’s eyes dropped to 
somewhere around Sawyer’s chest. “I know I should’ve told you 
before. I’m sorry.”

After a moment’s silence Sawyer reached out to gently tilt 
Jack’s chin up until their eyes met. “You thought I’d leave you 
if I knew you’d slept with him.” It wasn’t really a question – 
more like he was seeking confirmation.

“I thought you’d be jealous. But he was dead. And I didn’t know 
when or if we’d ever get off that island. I figured it wasn’t 
worth telling you and turning it into a big issue.” Jack sighed 
and dropped his forehead to rest on Sawyer’s thigh. “I know it 
was stupid. Just...don’t punish Christine for my mistake.”

Sawyer sighed heavily and stroked Jack’s hair, letting his 
fingers tunnel through the short strands. “Boy, you really are 
stupid sometimes. I ain’t gonna punish nobody for nothin’, so 
you can quit your grovelin’.”

Jack looked up, frowning. “You’re not mad?”

“Didn’t say that. Fact, I oughta take you over my knee for 
lettin’ me go on thinkin’ her daddy was out there somewhere 
waitin’ for ya.” He cupped Jack’s face between his hands, 
forcing Jack’s eyes to meet his. “Anythin’ else you been 
forgettin’ to tell me?”

Jack shook his head. 

“Then get up off that floor ‘fore you hurt yourself.”

Jack stood slowly, then hesitated, uncertain, until Sawyer 
pulled him astride his lap. Jack sat stiffly, unsure whether 
the chair was really strong enough to hold their combined 
weight. He sighed as Sawyer’s fingers traced along his neck. 

“You were drinkin’?”

Jack blinked, his forehead pinching in confusion. “What?”

“I don’t care how pretty the kid was, I don’t believe you’d let 
a stranger fuck you in a bathroom ‘less you were drunk.”

Jack averted his eyes. “It *was* a bar,” he mumbled.

“Mmm-hmm. Was it good?”

Jack frowned. “What does it matter?”

Sawyer shrugged. “Just curious.”

Jack shook his head. “You’re jealous.”

“That a kid who wasn’t old enough to drink got you shit faced 
and bent over a toilet ‘fore you even knew his name? Kinda. 
‘specially after all you put *me* through.”

Jack sighed. “He wasn’t *that* young.”

Sawyer ignored the protest. “He make you come?”

“No.”

Sawyer’s eyebrows raised. “Really?”

“It was a public bathroom. I wasn’t nearly drunk enough to 
forget that.”

A smirk pulled at the corners of Sawyer’s lips. “Bet I could’ve 
made you come anyway.”

Jack groaned. “It’s not a competition, Sawyer.”

“I know it ain’t. I’m just sayin’. I could prob’ly make you 
come right here in this chair ‘f I wanted to.”

“Sawyer...”

“Might be kinda fun.” Sawyer kissed his jaw, tipping Jack’s 
head to one side with one hand. His other hand went to the 
small of Jack’s back, anchoring him and gently coaxing him 
closer.

Jack squirmed and groaned as Sawyer’s lips trailed down his 
neck. “I’m not having sex with you just so you can prove to 
yourself that you’re a better lover than Boone.”

“I ain’t tryin’ to prove nothin’ to nobody, Doc,” Sawyer said 
between kisses. “You had plenty o’ chances to get rid of me but 
you keep comin’ back.” He pulled back a little to smile at 
Jack. “Don’t matter much how many guys you’ve knocked boots 
with or whether they could make you scream like I know I can. 
You’re mine now. And nice as that little welcome home was last 
night it weren’t nearly enough to make up for those two years I 
spent wishin’ I could touch you.” 

He smiled that sweet, charming smile that always made Jack melt 
a little, no matter how frustrating the man could be at times. 

“Now. How ‘bout we move to that cot ‘fore we break this chair?”

Jack’s weak resistance crumbled and he smiled. “Okay.”

*******

They stayed in their room when the ship docked near Long Beach, 
avoiding the media circus they knew full well waited on the 
shore to greet them. 

“How long d’you s’ppose we’ll have to wait,” Sawyer asked in a 
low voice, his fingers playing with the hem of Jack’s shirt 
suggestively.

“I don’t know. It shouldn’t take too long,” Jack murmured 
absently.

“Mmm...got any ideas on how to pass the time,” Sawyer teased, 
nipping at Jack’s earlobe.

Jack jolted upright suddenly. “Oh! I almost forgot!” He slipped 
from the cot, much to Sawyer’s dismay, and reached for his 
backpack, opening one of the side compartments. “I have 
something for you...” He returned with two thin, hard-bound 
books, which he presented to Sawyer.

Sawyer took them hesitantly. “What’s this for?” He looked down 
at the covers and any further questions died on his tongue.

“I couldn’t remember which one was your favorite,” Jack said 
sheepishly. “I could never keep the two straight.”

Sawyer just stared at the books silently, a lump forming in his 
throat. One was “Of Mice and Men”, the other “The Grapes of 
Wrath”. He thought back to those nights early in their 
relationship when Jack had read to him from one of the 
paperbacks he’d found in the wreckage – insisting it would give 
Sawyer’s overworked eyes a break. Sawyer had let him mostly 
because he found listening to Jack drone on about sunsets and 
open fields oddly soothing. It was on one of those nights that 
he’d probably told Jack that Steinbeck was his favorite author 
in some offhand way. All this time later, Jack had somehow 
remembered that tiny detail.

“I figured you could start a new collection,” Jack continued, 
babbling nervously. “And we should make an appointment for you 
to see an eye specialist so you can get a decent pair of 
reading glasses.”

Sawyer dropped the books onto the cot beside him and dragged 
Jack down, silencing him with a kiss.

Jack made a surprised noise but quickly eased into the kiss, 
panting when Sawyer finally let him up for a much-needed 
breath. “What...”

“I love you,” Sawyer murmured, kissing him again, this time 
more gently.

Jack smiled and leaned into him, letting Sawyer control their 
movements, moaning softly as a hand slowly worked its way 
beneath his shirt.

Sawyer groaned when a knock at the door interrupted them. “Go 
away,” he snapped. But Jack was already detangling himself and 
climbing from the cot. “Where’re you goin’,” he complained.

Jack just dodged his reaching hands. “Answer it.”

“Why,” Sawyer whined. “You’re closer.”

Jack just gave him a look.

The knocking came again, this time more insistent. 

“Fine,” Sawyer grumbled. He slipped from the cot, mentally 
cursing whoever would dare interrupt their moment of intimacy 
the entire short walk to the door. 

He threw open the door and whatever scathing remark he may have 
intended to say died on his tongue when he saw who was standing 
out in the hallway.

“Dude, you’re alive,” Hurley exclaimed, sweeping Sawyer into a 
fierce hug that lifted him several inches from the ground.

“Woah!” Sawyer laughed. “Easy there.” He patted Hurley’s back. 
“It’s good to see you too, Kong.”

Hurley let go and cocked his head at Sawyer. “You know, I 
actually missed that.”

Sawyer smiled. “Missed you too, Hugo.”

Hurley smiled brightly, then returned his attention to Jack. “I 
pulled the truck up to the dock. You ready to go?”

Sawyer turned to find Jack had already packed his backpack. 

Jack smiled. “Let’s go home.”

********

Hurley bombarded Sawyer with questions the whole way home until 
Sawyer thought he might just jump out of the vehicle while it 
was speeding down the freeway. At least, he thought, the tinted 
windows on the Humvee had shielded them from the flashbulbs of 
the news cameras still milling around on shore.

They finally pulled in front of the kind of house Sawyer used 
to visit only when one of his marks invited him home while her 
husband was out of town.

Jack patted Hurley’s shoulder and reached for the door handle. 
“Thanks, Hurley. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Wait,” Hurley blurted. “Your key...” He flipped down the visor 
over his head and caught the object as it spilled nearly into 
his lap, holding it out to Jack.

Jack smiled and took the proffered key, grabbing his backpack 
as he climbed from the high seat of the Humvee. Sawyer was 
right behind him.

Jack glanced at his watch as Hurley drove away. “The kids 
should be asleep by now.” He started for the front door, but 
stopped when he realized Sawyer wasn’t moving. “You coming?”

Sawyer tore his eyes from the upscale suburban house to look at 
Jack, his expression wary. “You sure ‘bout this?”

Jack frowned. “Am I sure about what?”

Sawyer made a vague gesture at the house and the empty space 
between their bodies. “This. Us.” The reality of the situation 
had finally sunk in and he wasn’t sure he was ready for 
whatever waited on the other side of that door. He had been 
away from civilization for so long. How could he be expected to 
just fit into the life Jack had already made for himself here? 

Jack walked back toward Sawyer, holding out his backpack. 
“Here, hold this,” he instructed. 

Sawyer took the backpack, confused, but before he could ask, 
Jack cradled the back of his head in his newly freed hand and 
kissed him.

Sawyer felt a little light headed and breathless by the time 
Jack let him up.

“Does that answer the question,” he asked with a slightly cocky 
smirk.

A muffled thump came from the house and Sawyer tore his eyes 
from Jack to see the little girl from Jack’s photograph 
standing at one of the large front windows, wearing what looked 
like a purple sleeping gown, her palms pressed to the glass 
eagerly. She ran off abruptly as Jack’s hand closed around 
Sawyer’s wrist and he headed for the front door, coaxing Sawyer 
along. 

Sawyer stood back, dazed as they entered the house and 
Christine immediately barreled up to Jack, yelping “Daddy!”

Jack swept her up in his arms, kissing her cheek. “What are you 
doing up past your bedtime?”

“She refused to go to bed until you came to tuck her in,” Kate 
said, coming into the entryway from the same direction 
Christine had appeared.

“I missed you, Daddy,” Christine chimed in, tightening her arms 
around Jack’s neck.

Jack laughed. “I missed you too, sweetheart.”

While Christine babbled excitedly about “uncle” Hurley’s visit 
earlier that day, Kate sidled over to Sawyer. 

“Welcome back,” she said warmly, throwing her arms around his 
shoulders.

He hugged her tightly, dropping the all but forgotten backpack 
on the floor. “Good to see you too, Freckles.”

Whether because she had finished her story or not, Sawyer 
realized Christine was staring at him silently when Kate pulled 
away.

Jack cleared his throat lightly. “Honey, do you remember when I 
told you about your other Daddy?”

Christine nodded solemnly, her eyes not moving from Sawyer’s 
face.

“This is your other Daddy. This is James.”

Her eyes lit up at the name and she turned to Jack. “Like JJ?”

He smiled. “Yeah. Just like JJ.”

She squirmed until Jack got the hint and put her down. The 
second her feet touched the floor she took off in the direction 
she had come from.

Kate smiled at Jack’s baffled expression. “She’ll be right 
back.”

Jack just shook his head. “Is JJ asleep?”

Kate nodded. “I put him to bed about an hour ago. He really 
wore himself out this afternoon.”

Christine came running back into the hall, a piece of paper 
clutched in her hands. She made a beeline for Sawyer and held 
it out to him like an offering.

Sawyer hesitated a moment before kneeling beside her, taking 
the paper. “What’s this?” He squinted at the brightly colored 
shapes and squiggles crayoned onto the page.

Christine pointed to the shape in the middle, then each of the 
figures surrounding it in turn. “That’s me and that’s JJ. 
That’s Mommy, that’s Daddy and that’s you.”

Sawyer stared at the two stick figures she had identified as 
him and Jack. They stood side by side, their arms joined by a 
mass of squiggly lines where their hands should be. He looked 
back up at Christine’s eager face. “Thank you,” he murmured.

She beamed and kissed him on the cheek before he could register 
her sudden movement, then scurried back over to Jack. 

Sawyer swore he saw an extra glint of moisture in Jack’s eyes 
as he scooped her up again. “Let’s get you in bed,” he 
announced. “Say goodnight.”

Christine waved at Sawyer. “’night!”

Sawyer nodded dumbly and stood as Jack climbed the staircase at 
the end of the hall, Christine once more chattering away in his 
ear.

Kate appeared at his side suddenly. “This is yours.”

Sawyer blinked at her. She was holding up the key Jack had used 
to unlock the door.

“Jack’s is in the kitchen,” she explained when Sawyer looked 
confused. “He wanted to make sure you had a copy.”

Sawyer held out his hand and let the key drop into his palm. He 
stared at it dumbly, noticing for the first time that it had a 
photo keychain attached. Christine and JJ smiled up at him from 
the photo nestled inside the plastic casing.

“You look like you could use a drink,” Kate said after a long 
moment of silence.

“Uh, yeah...thanks,” Sawyer mumbled, sliding the key into the 
pocket of his jeans and following Kate into the kitchen.

“You can put the drawing on the refrigerator,” Kate said over 
her shoulder as she retrieved two wine glasses from one of the 
cabinets over the kitchen counter.

Sawyer approached the fridge slowly, taking in all the artwork 
plastered across the front of it. He was surprised to find he 
was in some of it. As was Aaron. He managed to find an empty 
space to attach the latest piece, using a magnet that featured 
an Oceanic Airlines logo – obviously somebody’s idea of a joke.

He ran a light finger over one of the drawings. “Mommy?”

Kate appeared at his shoulder and handed him a glass full of 
Merlot. She smiled. “They’re a little too young to understand 
the concept of surrogacy yet.”

Sawyer’s eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. “Surrogacy? I 
thought you were playin’ Jack’s beard.”

She shrugged. “I guess you could say I *was*. Jack came out of 
the closet about a year ago.”

“Ah.” Sawyer took a swig of his wine and groaned. “Christ. I’d 
almost forgot what wine tastes like when it don’t come from a 
Dharma box.”

Kate laughed lightly, sipping delicately at her own glass, then 
shifted gears as the reference brought to mind another subject. 
“Did you find Claire?” The hopeful look in her eyes was 
guarded, like she knew better than to assume that anyone who 
just disappeared into the jungle on that island could ever come 
back.

“Yeah. ‘parently she was sleepwalkin’ or somethin’. Chasin’ the 
ghost of her dead daddy. She weren’t too happy at first when 
she found out you took the little tyke off the island, but she 
made peace with it.”

Kate winced a bit, but then sighed with relief. “Aaron is such 
a sweet, wonderful little boy. I’m glad Claire is with him 
again. And speaking of sweet little kids...” She took hold of 
Sawyer’s wrist and coaxed him toward the living room. “I have 
something to show you.”

At her pointed gesture, Sawyer sat on the overstuffed couch 
while she scooped the scattered crayons on one end of the 
coffee table into a plastic box with practiced efficiency. She 
picked up a photo album from the other end of the table and 
handed it to him before folding herself onto the cushions 
beside him, her glass of wine cradled gracefully between her 
palms. “I thought you might like to catch up on what you 
missed.”

He took the book gingerly, setting his glass on the coffee 
table. He flipped through the album, listening to Kate describe 
each series of pictures. Jack feeding Christine. Christine’s 
first birthday party. Christine taking her first steps with the 
help of Jack’s supporting hands. Kate on a beach with Aaron and 
Christine, building a crude sandcastle. Jack, four months 
pregnant with JJ, standing in the bathroom wearing nothing but 
a towel slung just beneath his bulging abdomen. Kate explained 
that she had taken this last one especially on the assumption 
that Sawyer would come home one day and be able to appreciate 
it. Judging by the expression on Jack’s face and the way he 
appeared to be grabbing for the camera he hadn’t fully agreed 
with that explanation.

Sawyer stopped flipping suddenly, his eyes drawn to one picture 
in particular. A very pale Jack lay in a hospital bed, tubes 
and wires running into his visible arm and under the hospital 
gown and blankets. An impossibly small infant lay on his chest, 
swaddled in blankets, a tiny cloth cap covering it’s head. Only 
the tiny, red face was visible. 

“And that,” Kate said wistfully. “Is the little miracle.”

Sawyer looked up at her. “Miracle?”

She smiled. “That’s what Jack called him.”

Sawyer ran a finger along the outline of Jack’s hand covering 
the infant, the gesture weary but fiercely protective at the 
same time. “He said it was a difficult birth...”

“Difficult doesn’t begin to describe it.” She met Sawyer’s 
surprised look with a sigh. “He didn’t tell you. Of course.” 
She set her wine glass down on the table and rested one hand on 
Sawyer’s arm gently. “Jack was so determined to carry JJ to 
term, but something about this pregnancy was different – 
harder. Once he got to the second trimester he was in almost 
constant pain. By week 23 he was on full bed rest.” Her voice 
faltered a little, her eyes reflecting the pain and worry she 
had gone through with Jack. “He barely made it to his third 
trimester. He had to have an emergency c-section. JJ was almost 
three months premature. We almost lost them both.”

Sawyer stared at her mutely, swallowed heavily and looked back 
down at the page of pictures. Sure enough, there was a 
noticeable gap of about a month between the pictures of JJ’s 
birth and everything that came before it.

“He asked for you,” she continued. “In the hospital. He was 
drugged, half-conscious. He barely knew where he was. He kept 
talking about how much he loved you and wanted you to meet your 
son. ‘Our son’, he kept saying.”

A tear spilled over in spite of Sawyer’s best efforts to stave 
it off. He turned his head away from her and swiped at it, 
embarrassed. 

“He never stopped looking for you. He never stopped hoping you 
would come back.”

“Thank you,” Sawyer said softly, his voice rough.

Kate looked puzzled. “For what?”

He gestured at a picture of Kate standing next to Jack’s 
hospital bed, Christine balanced on her hip, carefully leaning 
forward so the toddler could “kiss” her father’s cheek. “For 
takin’ care of ‘em.” He looked up, meeting her eyes. “For bein’ 
there when I couldn’t.”

She smiled. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I’m just glad 
you’re back. I haven’t seen Jack so happy and relaxed since we 
left.”

A muffled noise came from upstairs, drawing their attention.

“It’s probably just Jack,” Kate said, but she made a move to 
get up anyway. “I should check on JJ. Do you want to come with 
me?”

Sawyer hesitated. “Uh...thought you said he was sleepin’.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry. If he’s asleep, you won’t 
wake him. JJ could sleep through an earthquake.”

Sawyer hesitated a moment longer, then set the photo album 
carefully on the table and downed the last of his wine in one 
swallow.

“So you’re livin’ here too,” he asked casually as Kate led him 
across the ground level and up the stairs to the second floor.

“I told Jack I would stay until you were settled in. You can 
think of me as a live-in babysitter.”

“You don’t gotta go runnin’ off on my account.”

She stopped at the top of the stairs and turned to him, her 
voice dropping to a near whisper. “I’m not ‘running off’. I’ll 
still be close enough to babysit the kids. I just won’t live 
here.”

“Oh,” Sawyer mumbled as she started down the hall.

She stopped outside a room whose door stood slightly ajar. 
“Jack’s been here,” she whispered, a soft smile tugging at her 
lips. “I didn’t leave the door open.” She nudged the door 
carefully and quietly slipped through.

Sawyer hesitated, suddenly nervous. He had known this moment 
would come, but that didn’t make facing it any easier. There 
was no script for how a father should act when seeing his son 
for the first time. Of course, in this case, the son wouldn’t 
even be aware of his presence, but up until that moment JJ had 
been little more than a face in a photograph. Now, mere days 
after Sawyer even knew he existed, that little boy – his and 
Jack’s flesh and blood – was just on the other side of that 
door.

He took a deep breath and stepped through the door.

The little boy sleeping in the high-sided bed looked so much 
like Sawyer had when he was that age that had it not been for 
Kate standing beside him, he could have believed he never 
actually made it back from his brief stay in the 70s.

“Jesus...”

“Yeah,” Kate whispered with a light chuckle. “He looks like an 
angel, doesn’t he?” She gingerly tucked JJ’s blanket closer to 
his body. “He’s really a sweet little boy.”

“Jack said he’s a real handful,” Sawyer whispered, his fingers 
ghosting over the boy’s soft blond hair.

“He’ll grow out of it. You’ll just have to be firm with him 
because he’s got Jack wrapped around his little finger.”

Sawyer drew his hand back, clenching it into a fist. “This 
ain’t right,” he muttered.

Kate’s smile faltered. “What?”

“I ain’t cut out to be a daddy. I thought I could handle it, 
but...” He looked around the toy-strewn room. “They got a life 
here. I’d just mess it up.”

Kate blinked at him, glanced down at JJ, then straightened, 
folding her arms over her chest. “Do you love Jack?”

Sawyer sighed. “Course I love him, Freckles. I love Chrissy 
too. But love ain’t got nothin’ to do with it. I ain’t a good 
guy. I don’t belong here.” It killed him to say it – to think 
that after all this time he could just walk away from the 
people he’d begun to think of as his family. But he couldn’t 
stop thinking about his father – how his body had gone slack 
after he blew his brains all over his son’s bed. Of course he 
could never hurt Jack and Christine *that* way, but that didn’t 
make his presence any less dangerous for them. Given his 
history, he was bound to hurt them eventually. And, he realized 
with bitter irony, it was *because* he loved them so much that 
he couldn’t let that happen.

Kate sighed and grabbed his wrist. “Come with me,” she 
muttered, though she was already dragging him toward the door 
before he even had a chance to argue.

Sawyer spared one last look at his son and followed along 
without protest as she guided him toward a bedroom down the 
hall. Hers, judging by the familiar way she began digging in 
one of the dresser drawers. He stood awkwardly, waiting until 
she turned and held a manila folder out to him.

“What’s this,” he asked, taking the folder warily.

“Adoption papers for Christine and JJ, the information you’ll 
need to access the bank account Jack started for you with part 
of the Oceanic settlement and the phone number of a guy Hurley 
knows who wants to interview you for a job he opening has in 
real estate sales.”

Sawyer blinked at her. “Real estate?”

“We thought you’d make a great salesman. If you don’t want the 
job, we can find something else. Hurley has lots of 
connections.” She moved closer until she was practically nose-
to-chin with Sawyer, forcing him to meet her intense gaze. 
“We’ve all been given a chance to start over. If you run out on 
Jack now...if you don’t even *try*? You will break his heart. I 
love him too much to let you do that. I love those children too 
much to let them grow up wondering why you’re not here.”

Sawyer shook his head, his face twisted in a grimace. “They’d 
be better off. I’d make a terrible daddy.”

Kate grabbed him by the chin as his eyes started to wander, 
forcing them to focus back on her. “Jack said the same thing 
before Christine was born. He was wrong. And from what I 
remember of the way you cared for Christine back on the island 
I’m certain you’re wrong too.”

She let go of his chin and he sighed. “What if I ain’t?”

“I’ll make a deal with you. Give it one month. If you still 
think they’d be better off without you, you can leave. But I’m 
willing to bet that in that time you’ll realize that you could 
never do anything to hurt them and you won’t want to leave. And 
when you do you can sign the adoption papers and make it 
official.”

Sawyer stared at her silently, reading the obvious 
determination in her eyes. He had no doubt that if he tried to 
leave she would run after him and find a way to drag him right 
back. He dropped his gaze, running his fingers through his hair 
and blew out a heavy breath. “Fine,” he said finally. “One 
month.”

Kate smiled victoriously and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. 
“You won’t regret it.”

“But wait, why do I gotta adopt JJ if he’s mine?”

“We told everyone I was your surrogate. We just wanted to make 
sure nobody ever has a reason to question who their parents 
are. If somebody did a DNA test on either of them and found out 
that *Jack* was their birth mother...” She shook her head. 
“It’s better for Jack and the children this way. Jack adopted 
them too. Once you sign the papers you and Jack will officially 
be Christine and JJ’s parents – legally and biologically.”

“Oh...” Sawyer carefully tucked the papers back into the 
folder.

“I should go clean up downstairs,” Kate announced, already 
heading for the door. “Your bedroom is at the end of the hall.” 
She gave him a pointed look.

It took him a moment to remember he was standing in *her* room. 
“Oh,” he repeated dumbly, following her out into the hallway. 

He stood awkwardly for a moment, watching her make her way down 
back down the stairs. Then he looked toward the end of the hall 
where the door to “his bedroom” stood open, soft light spilling 
out into the hallway and sighed. ‘Here goes nothing.’

The room was empty. The backpack Jack had obviously retrieved 
from downstairs sometime in the past few minutes sat on a 
dresser half-empty. Sawyer went to put his folder beside it 
when his eyes were drawn to the bedside tables, where two 
matching lamps provided the soft glow he had seen from the 
hallway. On the left side – Jack’s side when they’d shared a 
bed in Dharmaville – the table held an alarm clock, a cordless 
phone, and Jack’s wristwatch. On the right table, Jack had 
neatly stacked the books he’d bought Sawyer, an eyeglass case 
resting on top of them.

Sawyer swallowed thickly and crossed the room to place the 
folder in the empty drawer beneath the right table. He 
belatedly remembered the key in his pocket and dug it out, 
dropping it on the table beside the books.

He heard water running in the adjoining room and followed the 
sound, finding Jack standing at the bathroom sink, his shirt 
unbuttoned, rinsing the last traces of shaving cream from his 
face. 

Jack’s eyes met his in the mirror, looking startled for a 
moment. Then he smiled. “Hey.”

Sawyer wordlessly crossed the room and wrapped his arms around 
him from behind, burying his face in Jack’s neck.

“Sawyer, what...”

Sawyer shook his head, pressing a kiss to the damp skin beneath 
his ear. “You didn’t tell me you almost died,” he murmured.

Jack sighed and rubbed the forearm Sawyer had slung across his 
waist. “Kate sometimes exaggerates the details of JJs birth. 
I’ve come closer to dying on the island.” 

“That ain’t exactly reassurin’.” Sawyer unbuttoned Jack’s jeans 
and pushed them down a couple inches, giving him a clear view 
of Jack’s scar in the mirror. He traced a finger along the 
thin, pink line.

Jack’s hand covered his gently and he waited until Sawyer’s 
eyes met his in the mirror. “I’m here,” he said simply.

“Yeah,” Sawyer murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the spot where 
Jack’s neck met his shoulder. He reached up to push the 
material of Jack’s shirt aside, kissing a slow, seductive trail 
along his shoulder.

Jack hummed approvingly and turned his head as Sawyer worked 
back up his neck, capturing his lips in a lazy kiss, whimpering 
as Sawyer’s tongue tangled with his in an aggressive dance. He 
was gasping and panting when the Southerner finally let him up 
for breath.

“Christ, you’re beautiful,” Sawyer growled. He reached for the 
zipper on Jack’s jeans, but Jack batted him away and shifted 
until he had just enough room to turn around in Sawyer’s arms.

Jack’s mind stalled for a moment as he felt Sawyer’s hard 
length press against his own through their clothes. “Shower,” 
he finally sputtered. “I was going to...take a shower.” He 
groaned as Sawyer once more attacked his neck.

“It can wait ‘til mornin’,” Sawyer murmured against his skin.

Jack pushed somewhat half-heartedly at Sawyer’s shoulders. 
“No...the kids will be awake then.” He whimpered as Sawyer 
nibbled the sensitive skin behind his ear. “Please...at 
least...just...come in with me?”

Sawyer chuckled and leaned back, reaching up to unbutton his 
own shirt. “Well, why’dn’t you say so?”

********

Sawyer’s head fell back against the cool, slippery tile wall. 
His fingers combed restlessly through Jack’s soaking wet hair, 
pushing it clumsily from his face, resisting the impulse to 
thrust into the tight, wet heat surrounding his cock. Sawyer 
felt Jack’s groans of pleasure before he heard them and assumed 
Jack’s left hand was wrapped around his own cock. But since he 
had two fingers of his right hand inside Sawyer, massaging in a 
way that made the Southerner’s vision blur he couldn’t really 
be sure. He bit his lips, remembering Jack’s warning that they 
had to be *quiet* and barely managing to muffle a yelp when he 
came.

The world came back into focus and Sawyer looked down, meeting 
Jack’s eyes a moment before they slipped shut. Jack’s mouth 
fell slack, a series of breathy, helpless noises tumbling out, 
the movements of his hand on his cock becoming sloppy as he 
spilled on the shower floor, the evidence of his pleasure 
quickly washing down the drain.

Sawyer reached to turn off the water, which was barely even 
tepid anymore. He leaned back again, idly toying with Jack’s 
hair. “You are fuckin’ amazin’,” he muttered.

Jack hummed and pressed a kiss to Sawyer’s abdomen. He steadied 
himself with a firm grip on Sawyer’s hips and stood, groaning 
softly as his knees complained. “We should go to bed.”

Sawyer stopped him as he started turning toward the shower 
door, pulling him in for a kiss. “I don’t deserve you,” he 
murmured against Jack’s swollen lips.

Jack gave a gentle head shake. “Don’t...” He slipped his hand 
behind Sawyer’s neck and tilted his head, tangling his tongue 
with the Southerner’s in a gentle, reaffirming exploration. 

Jack pulled back after a minute, brushing his lips against 
Sawyer’s once more and then turning and stepping from the 
shower without another word.

Sawyer sighed and followed, taking the towel Jack handed him 
and running it over his hair. “What makes you so damn sure this 
is gonna work?”

Jack tucked his own towel firmly around his waist. “What makes 
you so sure it won’t?” He didn’t wait for an answer – he’d 
meant it to be rhetorical anyway. He just walked through the 
doorway into the bedroom and started digging through one of the 
dresser drawers.

Sawyer trailed after him again and raised an eyebrow when Jack 
waved a pair of boxers in his direction. “What’re those for?”

“We have two small children who have been known to crawl into 
bed with me in the middle of the night. Trust me; you don’t 
want to be naked when they do.”

Sawyer stared at the boxers for another moment, hesitant. Jack 
waved them toward him pointedly. Finally he sighed and snatched 
them from Jack’s hand. “Fine.”

Jack smiled triumphantly and retrieved a pair for himself.

Sawyer tossed his wet towel in the general direction of the 
bathroom, slipped into the pair of underwear and headed for his 
side of the bed, picking up the eyeglass case. “What’s this?” 
He flipped it open to find a pair of glasses already resting 
inside. He turned toward Jack, who was already picking up the 
towel he’d discarded.

Jack shrugged and disappeared into the bathroom, calling, “They 
were five bucks at the drug store. I thought maybe you could 
use them until you got a prescription.” 

Sawyer grabbed the book on the top of the pile and slipped the 
glasses on experimentally. The words on the page swam 
violently, making him instantly nauseous. He ripped them off 
and closed his eyes while he regained his equilibrium. 

“Something wrong?”

Sawyer opened his eyes to see Jack standing on the other side 
of the bed, looking at him with concern. Sawyer waved the 
glasses at him. “Nah. These don’t work.”

Jack shrugged and pulled back the covers, slipping into bed. 
“Like I said, they were only five bucks.”

Sawyer hesitated a moment before following suit, sighing as the 
bedsprings gave way comfortably beneath him. He had been 
sleeping on hard ground and harder Dharma mattresses for too 
long. He held the book out to Jack. “Guess you’ll just have ta 
read it to me then.”

Jack blinked at him. “Now?”

“Yeah, now.” Sawyer nudged Jack’s shoulder with a corner of the 
spine.

Jack sighed and took the book, glancing at the front cover. “Of 
Mice and Men.” He smiled and shook his head. “I knew it.” He 
waved toward the lamp on Sawyer’s side of the bed. “Get the 
light.”

“Yes, sir,” Sawyer grinned and turned to snap off the light.

He settled against Jack’s side comfortably, slinging his arm 
across the doctor’s waist, and watched Jack’s face intently as 
he began to read. 

“A few miles south of Soledad, the Salinas river drops in close 
to the hillside bank and runs deep and green...”

Sawyer tried to concentrate on Jack’s voice, but his mind 
started to wander as his fingers unconsciously traced the scar 
on Jack’s abdomen. He had always known Jack was stronger than 
he ever imagined. Sure, after they were separated, Sawyer had 
spent two years on the island bouncing around in time and 
playing ad hoc leader to what survivors were left behind. But 
after a couple months he had basically given up all hope of 
rescue and settled back into the Dharma house he, Jack and 
Claire had shared briefly. Jack never gave up. He had spent 
*three years* looking for the island – trying to get back to 
Sawyer – when he wasn’t giving birth to their son and raising 
two small children. Sawyer wasn’t sure he would have been so 
determined.

Deep down, Sawyer had always wanted a place to call home. 
Perhaps that was why the story of George and Lennie appealed to 
him so much. The characters were so driven by their goal to set 
aside enough money to buy a place of their own and settle down. 
Sure, their story had ended in tragedy, but that didn’t mean 
Sawyer’s had to. 

Sawyer’s thoughts scattered as Jack’s hand covered his, 
stilling his wandering fingers.

“I can’t concentrate when you do that,” Jack said.

Sawyer met his eyes, smiling playfully, mentally filing that 
information away for later use. “Sorry, Doc.” He shifted closer 
until his head was pillowed on Jack’s shoulder, close enough to 
feel the rumbling of his voice deep in his chest as he started 
reading again.

“Evening of a hot day started the little wind to moving among 
the leaves...”

Kate was right: he couldn’t bear the thought of hurting his 
family. And leaving them now *would* hurt them. Between the 
Oceanic settlement and Jack’s salary, the odds of him needing 
to fall back on conning to make quick cash were probably low 
anyway. If Jack could find him and bring him home against all 
odds after three years, Sawyer could make this work. 

Sawyer closed his eyes and tried to picture the rural 
California landscape John Steinbeck lovingly described. But all 
he could see was sun-bleached sand and jungle leaves dampened 
by tropical rain. And while he would more readily describe the 
island as a lunatic’s idea of a prison paradise than “home”, it 
seemed appropriate somehow. Crashing on that deserted island 
from hell was, ironically, the best thing that could have 
happened to Sawyer. It was the place where he’d met Jack. The 
place where Christine was born and JJ was conceived. 

Crashing on that crazy, deserted island had led him home. And 
he wouldn’t trade that experience for the world.

THE END