Title: 12 Steps
Author: Diandra Hollman
E-Mail: diandrahollman@gmail.com
Website: http://diandrahollman.tripod.com/index.html
Date Finished: 11/26/2009 
Rating: NC-17
Keywords: Lost, Jack/Sawyer, slash, post-flashforward 
Spoilers: “Through the Looking Glass”
Disclaimer: I think they still belong to JJ Abrams. I know they 
belong to Lindelof and Cuse and ABC. I wish I were making the 
sort of profit they are off these characters, but sadly, I’m 
not.
Archive: I don’t know anymore. Are there any static archives 
for this show?
Summary: When Kate can’t get through to a drunken, suicidal 
Jack she calls the only person she can think of.
Author's Notes: This takes place right after Kate left Jack 
standing by the road in the Season 3 finale. I started writing 
it then. This is how long it takes me to work on stories now. 
Sigh. I started taking some of the season 4 stuff into account, 
but it mostly ignores cannon past season 3 (Ben is the one in 
the coffin here).

Obviously the title is in reference to the 12 steps of 
addiction treatment. These steps will not actually be followed 
in this story. I just needed a title that described the story 
without making it seem like part of the “Detox” series.


12 Steps
By Diandra Hollman


“You have to talk to Jack.”

I barely held back a groan. “Hello to you too, Freckles.”

“I mean it, Sawyer,” Kate snapped. “I’m afraid he might try 
something crazy.”

I sighed heavily and tucked the phone against my ear awkwardly, 
freeing my hand to open the door of my old junker of a Chevy, 
and climbing in, tossing a bag of takeout on the passenger 
seat. “What’d he say this time?” Woman was hell bent on 
believing Jack was suicidal. Last time he’d left some weepy, 
unfinished message on her voicemail that she couldn’t make 
heads or tails of. Turned out he did it right before he pulled 
a woman and her kid from a car wreck. Kate insisted there was 
more to it than they said on the news, but it sounded just like 
Saint Jack being his usual heroic damned self to me. 

 “He asked if I went to Ben’s funeral.”

I froze, my hand halfway to the door handle. “What?”

“He was drunk. I could barely understand him. He kept saying we 
had to go back...that we were not supposed to leave the 
island.”

I rolled my eyes and slammed the door. “Goddamn fucking 
bastard...”

“He says he’s been flying from one airport to another hoping 
the plan would crash,” she continued, sounding shaken. “I can’t 
do this anymore, Sawyer. I thought I could get through to him 
once, but I can’t. I can’t watch him kill himself like this. 
I’ve thought about changing my phone number, but I’m afraid of 
what he’ll do...”

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, feeling a sudden headache 
coming on. “A’right, settle down, Freckles. Where is he?”

She sighed. “Probably still out by the airport.”

I spluttered. “You left him alone?”

“Did you hear me,” she snapped, defensive. “I can’t deal with 
him anymore.”

I stifled a groan. “Damnit...Where by the airport?”

“Off the service road. Right by the runway. Please...I don’t 
know who else to ask.”

I turned the key in the ignition. “Yeah, all right. I’ll give 
it a shot.”

“Call me.”

I grunted a vague affirmative and snapped the phone shut, 
pulling out of the parking lot.

*********

It didn’t take long to find him. I parked behind his truck and 
sat in the car for a minute, watching for some sort of 
movement. I could see him in the driver’s seat, but if he 
noticed me he didn’t let on. I sighed and climbed out of the 
Chevy, approaching his truck slowly. The driver side door was 
wide open and I half expected to see blood as I got closer.

I hadn’t seen Jack in months, so I knew it was possible he 
would look different, but the man in the car looked nothing 
like the Jack I remembered. He was slumped in the driver seat, 
his eyes closed. The half of his face not hidden by a thick, 
unkempt beard was pale and dotted with sweat. His clothes were 
wrinkled and stained and I could smell the alcohol on him even 
before I knelt beside him. He didn’t react – didn’t even 
realize I was there.

“Doc,” I called softly.

He startled, his eyes snapping open, struggling to focus on me. 

I put a hand on his arm. “It’s okay, Doc. It’s me.”

“Sawyer,” he mumbled, still not really seeing me.

I squeezed his arm. “Yeah.”

He relaxed, his eyes starting to slowly focus. “We have to go 
back.”

“We’ve been through this before, Doc...”

“No...we weren’t supposed to leave,” he slurred. 

I frowned. Something wasn’t right. His eyes still weren’t 
really focused – more so than I was sure could be explained by 
a drinking binge. I spotted a crumpled foil packet half-under 
his seat. I picked it up and managed to smooth it out enough to 
figure out that it was one of those sample packets of drugs 
doctors sometimes give out. I didn’t recognize the name, but I 
knew mixing pills with alcohol was usually a bad idea. “How 
many of these have you had,” I demanded, waving it in front of 
his face.

He mumbled something I couldn’t make out, his head dropping 
back against the seat.

I grabbed his chin and forced him to turn toward me. “How 
many?!”

He just moaned quietly, his eyes squeezing shut like the sound of 
my voice was painful.

“Fuck...” I fumbled for the cell in my pocket. 

Jack grabbed my hand, suddenly much more coherent. “No...no 
hospital.”

“I ain’t lettin’ you kill yourself, you stupid bastard,” I 
snapped. I flipped the phone open and began dialing, but only got 
a nine before he started trying to wrestle the damn thing from me. 
“Knock it off, Doc!”

“No...fuck you...no hospital,” he slurred.

I caught the angry, stubborn glint in his eye and clenched my 
teeth. Fine. He wanted to do this the hard way, I could oblige. I 
tightened my grip on the phone and twisted my arm, wrenching it 
from his clumsy grip. I flipped it closed before he could make 
another grab and slammed the hard edge of it into his temple. It 
wasn’t enough to knock him unconscious but that wasn’t what I 
wanted. He stopped fighting and the look in his eyes made me 
hesitate, my fingers tensing around the phone, hovering in mid-
air. It was like whatever had possessed him had suddenly fled and 
he had no idea what had happened and why I was hurting him. I 
steeled myself and hit him again, then tossed the phone onto the 
dash, grabbed him by the front of his shirt and dragged him out of 
the car, tossing him face-first to the ground. I felt only a 
hollow victory as he landed on all fours and immediately threw up.

I knelt beside him, ready to catch him if I had to. I cringed as I 
realized he didn’t have anything more coming up than the pills, 
some booze and bile. ‘That’s gotta hurt.’

“Fuck,” he grunted between dry heaves. “You bastard...” He spat a 
couple times and groaned.

I put a hand on his back carefully. “Easy there, Doc.”

He growled and took a clumsy swing at me, barely catching himself 
before he collapsed to the ground. A plane flew overhead, drowning 
out the string of curses he tossed at me.

I waited until the racket stopped (both his and the plane’s) and 
asked “you done now?”

He muttered a few curses I never thought I’d hear come from his 
mouth and pushed himself up and back until he was leaning against 
the car. He tried to glare at me and winced. “What the hell did 
you do that for?”

“What d’you think?” I snapped. “It’s not like I got a bottle of 
Ipecac on me.”

He looked startled, like he didn’t think I knew what Ipecac was. 
“What, you never tried to drink anything you wasn’t supposed to 
when you were a kid?”

Jack just glared at me, his eyes slightly unfocused. “You could’ve 
given me a concussion.”

I rolled my eyes. I saved the bastard’s life and this was the 
thanks I got. “Well, now, maybe that wouldn’t’a happened if you’d 
a let me call an ambulance.”

“I took two pills, Sawyer!”

“Yeah? And how much whiskey did you drink with ‘em? Or did you 
just pour half the bottle on yourself?”

“I’m not drunk.”

“The hell you ain’t.”

“I know my body, Sawyer,” he nearly shouted. “I know what it can 
take and I am NOT. DRUNK.” The lights from the runway made his 
eyes shine crazily.

I threw up my hands. “All right, fine. Have it your way. But 
you’re still higher ‘n a kite right now and don’t you try to tell 
me you ain’t, cause I ain’t that stupid.”

“I am NOT...” Jack cut himself off with a frustrated groan, 
letting his head fall back against the car. “What the hell’re you 
doing here, Sawyer?”

“Savin’ your sorry ass. What’s it look like?”

“How did you know where to find me?”

I snorted. “Thought you was smart enough to have figured that out 
by now.”

He groaned again. “Kate.”

I watched another plane go by and wondered what the hell I was 
supposed to do now. I knew one thing for sure: I couldn’t leave 
him alone. Well, I *could*, but if I did and something happened to 
him I knew Kate would be pissed and, frankly, that woman could be 
damned scary when she got angry.

I sighed and reached into his car, grabbing my phone and his keys. 

“What’re you doing,” he demanded as I slammed the door shut and 
pushed the lock button on the remote. 

I ignored him and chucked the keys over the fence before he could 
try to stop me.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” he roared, hauling himself to 
his feet.

“Just shut up and get in my car,” I ordered. “You’re comin’ with 
me.”

He gaped at me for a minute, then dug his cell out of his pocket 
and started dialing. I ripped it from his hands before he could 
finish, fending off his clumsy attempts to take it back, and 
jammed it into my back pocket. He took a swing at me. I caught his 
wrist and twisted his arm until he squawked, batting away his 
other hand far too easily. “Get in the car before I *make* you get 
in,” I hissed.

His eyes flashed. “This is kidnapping.”

“I don’t give a shit what you call it, just get in the goddamned 
car!” I let go of his arms and shoved at his chest, making him 
stumble back a step or two.

He looked like he wanted to argue with me some more, but he 
thought better of it. He clenched his jaw and spun around, 
storming over to my truck and climbing in the passenger seat, 
slamming the door loudly.

I sighed and wondered why the hell I let Kate talk me into shit 
like this. Sometimes casual affairs were more trouble than they 
were worth.

“Put your seatbelt on,” I said as I climbed in the truck, 
strapping on my own. He didn’t move – just kept staring straight 
ahead with that hazy, pissed-off look. “Did you hear me,” I 
snapped. He didn’t move a muscle. “Goddamned stubborn son of a 
bitch,” I muttered and reached over to do it myself. “I ain’t 
doin’ this for my damned health, Doc.” I started the truck and 
pulled onto the road.

“You wanna explain why you’re doing it then,” he snapped, sounding 
tired suddenly.

“I told ya, I ain’t lettin’ you kill yourself.”

“I’m not trying to kill myself.”

“Yeah, you are. Except instead of being a man and eating a bullet 
you gotta do it the hard way and make everybody around you 
miserable in the meantime.”

He went quiet for several miles. I finally glanced over to find 
his eyes closed, his head back against the seat. I jabbed him in 
the leg. “Hey, don’t go to sleep. I had a concussion once. I know 
how this works.”

He stayed quiet the whole way back to my place and I had to keep 
checking to make sure he was awake, but at least he wasn’t 
bitching anymore. In fact, he followed me into the old farmhouse 
like a well-trained dog. He even let me lead him to the bathroom 
without protest...at least until he tried to shut the door in my 
face and I shoved my way into the room. I shut the door behind me 
and leaned against it, arms folded over my chest. 

“You can’t at least let me have some privacy,” he sneered.

“Not if you’re gonna be goin’ through the medicine cabinet. 
‘Sides, I gotta make sure you don’t pass out and crack open that 
thick skull o’ yours.”

He clenched his jaw but didn’t say anything else, turning his back 
to me and heading for the toilet.

I dug through a drawer while he took a leak and fished out a spare 
toothbrush, tossing it on the counter. He glared at me as he went 
to wash his hands, but muttered a reluctant thank you as he picked 
up the toothbrush. I kept digging and came up with a pair of 
scissors. He stopped brushing for a second to eye me warily. I 
reached over to open the cabinet over the sink and pulled out my 
nearly new razor, setting it next to the scissors. 

“Shave that thing off while you’re at it. You look like a damned 
caveman.”

“You’re actually trusting me to use these,” he sneered, picking up 
the scissors and waving them pointedly.

“Why do you think I’m standin’ here?” I probably couldn’t stop him 
if he tried to off himself...at least not until it was too late. 
But I figured Jack wasn’t the type to try it when someone else was 
in the room. He’d probably feel too guilty making them watch him 
die.

I watched as he stripped the hair away little by little until he 
began to resemble a human being again, sweeping the hair neatly 
into the half-busted garbage can on the floor. I didn’t move until 
he was finished shaving and started putting the razor back. 

“Here, you missed a spot...” I grabbed the razor and tilted his 
chin with one hand, carefully scraping a few stray hairs from his 
neck, right up under his jaw. I could tell he had stiffened and 
just about stopped breathing but I pretended not to notice. I ran 
my fingers along the other side of his jaw to make sure I hadn’t 
missed any, avoiding his eyes and ignoring the sudden urge to kiss 
him. This wasn’t really new – I’d been wanting to do a hell of a 
lot more than kiss him for a long time – it was just easier to 
ignore the impulse and not risk getting my teeth knocked out.

“If you ever wanna get laid again, you’re gonna have to keep that 
thing off. Most women ain’t attracted to a guy who looks like he 
lives in a cardboard box.” I put the razor and scissors away and 
made sure I was a safe distance from him before looking him in the 
eye again. He looked confused and maybe a little shaken. “You just 
gonna stand there?”

He blinked and shifted a little. “Uh...can I use your shower?”

“Yeah...” I dug a towel and washcloth from the tiny closet in the 
corner and handed them to him. “Knock yourself out.”

He took them slowly, eyeing me like he thought I might suddenly 
attack him. Whether he thought that attack would be sexual or not 
I couldn’t tell. “You’re just gonna stand there?”

I barely held back a smirk. “What, you want me to get in there 
with you and make sure you don’t miss another spot?” It was funny 
how easy I could make him blush. I wondered why I hadn’t done it 
more often.

“Forget it,” he grumbled, tossing the towel on the counter and his 
jacket at me. I caught it and watched as he stripped his shirt 
off. He had lost weight, I was sure. He dropped the shirt on the 
ground and started fumbling with his pants, turning his back on 
me. I figured maybe I shouldn’t have stayed when he took his 
boxers off and I had a sudden urge to go over there and see for 
myself if his ass was as tight as it looked.

“Fucking pervert,” he muttered under his breath before he stepped 
in the shower.

Moment over. I rolled my eyes and bent to pick up his clothes, 
tossing them out into the bedroom. “Ungrateful bastard,” I 
muttered. “I don’t like this any more’n you do,” I said, loud 
enough for him to hear over the pounding water. “I wasn’t planin’ 
on babysitting your ass all damned night, but I couldn’t damned 
well leave you by the side of the road. If anything’d happened to 
you Freckles’d have my ass in a sling.”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” he snapped. “Either of you!”

I had the sudden urge to reach through that frosted glass door and 
strangle him. “Y’know what? I really don’t fuckin’ care what you 
think or whether you need protecting. I’m just doin’ this ‘cause 
Kate can’t put up with your shit anymore and it’s killin’ her to 
watch you kill yourself. As long as you keep pumpin’ yourself full 
of shit and cryin’ to her I’m gonna get dragged into this, so 
you’re gonna have to shape up or just fuckin’ deal with it!”

He went quiet and after a minute of silent fuming I decided he 
could finish his shower without me in the room.

“’You have to talk to him’,” I mimicked when I was safely in the 
bedroom. “What the hell was she thinkin’?” I remembered my promise 
to call her and pulled my cell from my pocket, punching in the 
number from memory.

She answered after a couple rings. “Jack, I can’t talk right 
now...”

Damnit. Wrong phone. “It’s me.”

“Sawyer? Why do you have Jack’s phone? What happened? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. He’s takin’ a shower.”

“He’s...you brought him to your place?”

“Yeah, well, he wouldn’t go to the hospital and I figured he 
shouldn’t be alone with a concussion and all.” I remembered 
suddenly that I needed to call the airport and went searching for 
a phone book.

“A concussion?”

“Long story.” Of course it wasn’t – I just didn’t want to explain 
it to her because she’d rip me a new one.

“But he’s okay?”

“Same ol’ stubborn Jack,” I confirmed. “Fightin’ me for all he’s 
worth.”

I could just about hear her smiling. “Thank you.”

“You’re gonna owe me.”

“I’m sure it won’t be that much sacrifice.”

I frowned, my fingers halting mid page turn. “What the hell’s that 
supposed to mean?”

She sighed. “Nothing. I have to go. Take care of him.”

I grunted. “Yeah, whatever.”

I found the number for airport information and, after three 
transfers and a few minutes of being put on hold, put on my most 
charming voice and told the lady that I’d intercepted a friend 
who’d been driving drunk by the airport and if she could get 
somebody to go find the keys by the runway and put it someplace 
safe I’d be really grateful. I implied that there would be a 
reward involved for the cars safekeeping. She agreed pretty easy.

I hung up and went back to the bedroom. The shower was still 
running. I squashed the little voice that berated me for leaving 
him alone when he might be suicidal and barged into the bathroom. 
“Doc? You okay in there?”

No answer.

“I’m comin’ in,” I warned before rolling open the shower door. I 
held back a groan when I found him curled up in the corner, 
crying. I shut off the water – long turned cold – and reached for 
his towel, wrapping it around his shoulders. “C’mon,” I coaxed, 
trying to draw him out of the shower. He surprised the hell out of 
me by coming easily and without a word.

I sat him down on the closed toilet seat and, when he made no move 
to dry himself, grabbed the towel and started doing it for him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, so quiet I almost didn’t hear it.

“I know y’are,” I said gently. I pulled the robe from the hook 
behind the door and wrapped it around him, threading his arms 
through the sleeves like he was a little kid.

“Let’s get you to bed,” I muttered, lifting him up and dragging 
him into the bedroom. I sat him down on the bed and he immediately 
laid down and rolled onto his side, facing the far wall. I sighed 
and went back to the bathroom, tossing the wet towel on the 
counter. I debated taking a shower myself. I didn’t know what he 
might try to do if I left him alone too long, but it had been a 
long day and he was wearing my only remaining robe. I peeked out 
into the bedroom. He hadn’t moved. Might as well.

I left the door open while I took a quick shower, listening for 
any sort of movement. He still hadn’t moved a muscle by the time I 
finished. I wrapped a towel around my waist and shut off the light 
on my way back to the bedroom.

I lay on the other side of the bed, facing him. His eyes were 
closed. “Hey, Doc. Don’t go to sleep on me.”

His eyes opened halfway. “You don’t have to keep me awake, 
just...wake me every couple hours,” he said, his voice tired, 
defeated and still slurring a little. He closed his eyes and went 
silent for a while. Then he opened them again. “You’re gonna sleep 
here?”

“It’s my bed.”

He started to roll over but I grabbed his wrist before he could 
get up. “Uh-uhn. You stay right here. I ain’t lettin’ you outta my 
sight.”

He sighed deeply but didn’t argue. “How long’re you gonna keep me 
here?”

“Seein’ as it’s Thursday and I got tomorrow off I’m thinkin’ the 
weekend for starters. But my boss is pretty understanding. I could 
prob’ly get him to give me some time off."

He gave me a strange look and said “you can let go now.”

It took me a second to figure out what he meant: I was still 
holding his wrist. I let go and muttered an apology. 

He kept staring at me, looking confused. “Why are you doing this? 
Is it just because of Kate?”

I sighed. “Remember what I told you the day Lizzie died?”

“Libby.”

“Whatever. I said you were the closest thing to a friend I’ve 
got.”

“You also said you’d let me die.”

I winced. “Yeah, well...that was before. I changed my mind.” He 
went silent for several moments, staring at the ceiling, and I 
decided it was time to change the subject. “What’s this about you 
goin’ to Ben’s funeral?”

“They were right,” he said softly.

“What?”

“Ben, Locke...we shouldn’t have left.”

“You wanna explain to me what the hell you’re...”

“They said he died of natural causes,” he interrupted. “Not a 
heart attack, not cancer...natural causes. That’s what they say 
when they have no other explanation.” The pained look on his face 
made my chest hurt. “It’s because we left. Everything that’s 
happened since I contacted the boat...all those people...”

“And what, you think findin’ the island is gonna bring all those 
people back? You gotta stop blamin’ yourself, Doc. You didn’t know 
what was gonna happen.”

“Ben did.” A tear spilled down his cheek. “He tried to warn me.”

“The son of a bitch kept us in cages for two weeks. I wouldn’t’ve 
believed him either.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “It wasn’t just him. 
Locke...”

“That crazy bastard would’ve done anything to stay on that island 
and you know it.”

“I killed him, Sawyer!”

“No. You didn’t. You didn’t save him. Big difference. ‘Specially 
seein’ as he didn’t wanna be saved.”

“I should’ve done *something*. I should’ve tried to stop him.”

“There’s nothing you could’a done, Jackass. You’d’ve gotten 
yourself killed along with ‘im.”

He closed his eyes, forcing a couple more tears free, and sighed. 
“You wouldn’t understand.”

I gave in to the impulse to reach over and swipe some of those 
tears away. “I understand better’n you think.”

He looked at me again, slow understanding dawning on him. His eyes 
wandered down my body, hovering somewhere around the towel at my 
waist, before sliding back up to meet my eyes. Then, before I knew 
what was happening, he rolled over and kissed me, muffling my 
startled grunt with his lips.

I pushed him away with a hand on his chest. “What’re you doin’?”

“You want me,” he said like that explained everything.

“So?”

I gasped as his hand found it’s way under my towel and wrapped 
loosely around my dick. “How long?”

It was really hard to think with him stroking me like that... 
“What?”

He squeezed. “How long’ve you wanted me?”

I groaned and grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand out from under 
the towel gently and bringing it to safer ground between us. 
“Since I saw you choppin’ wood in the jungle.”

He gaped. “Why didn’t you say something?”

I gave him a withering glare. “What d’you think? Figured you 
weren’t exactly the type.”

His eyes drifted to my lips, which he stared at with a hungry 
look that made my blood head south. “What if I said I was?”

I held back a groan. “You ain’t yourself right now, Doc.”

“I don’t wanna be myself,” he muttered, leaning in to kiss me 
again. There was a faint sour taste beneath the mint 
toothpaste. “Please,” he whispered. “Make me forget.”

I shoved him off me. “No, goddamn it. I ain’t gonna fuck you 
just ‘cause you’re drunk off your ass and you wanna ‘forget’.”

He rolled back and straddled me before I knew he was moving, 
pinning my arms down with more strength than I thought he had 
in him in his state. “I am not drunk,” he snarled.

“Fine...y’ain’t drunk. That don’t change the fact that you 
ain’t exactly in your right mind. You’re bound to regret it in 
the mornin’ and give me hell for takin’ advantage of you.”

His face twisted into something halfway between anger and 
laughter. “You give me a possible concussion, kidnap me and you 
think I’m going to be mad at you for *this*?”

Huh. He had a point there. Any further protest flew from my 
mind as he started kissing his way down my chest, shifting 
until he straddled my hips and grinding against my already 
half-hard dick. ‘Fuck it,’ the last functioning part of my 
brain decided. ‘He’s gonna hate me anyway.’

He kept moving, fumbling to pull my towel off and taking me in 
his mouth without warning. I hissed. It wasn’t surprising to 
find out he’d obviously never given a blowjob before. What was 
surprising was that he’d apparently never *gotten* one either 
because no guy in his right mind would use that much teeth. 
While I was trying to think of a way to get him to stop without 
pissing him off, he tried to go too far on the downstroke and 
gagged.

“Okay,” I blurted, pulling him back up to safer ground. “That’s 
enough o’ that.”

He didn’t argue. I rolled him on to his back and leaned in to 
kiss him again while I undid the tie on his robe with one hand. 
The sour taste was still in his mouth, but now he also tasted 
like me and the soap I used in the shower.

The robe fell away and I slipped my hand down to cup his... 
totally limp cock. I broke the kiss and frowned at him. “You 
sure about this?”

“Yes, damnit,” he growled, spreading his legs a little. “Just 
shut up and fuck me.”

“Always were a bossy son of a bitch,” I muttered, reaching for 
the nightstand. I stared at the empty drawer for a second 
before my brain kicked in and I remembered I’d moved everything 
to the bathroom. My sex life had been pretty non-existent 
lately. I wondered if I even had any lubricant left.

“Hold that thought,” I muttered, untangling myself from him and 
stumbling toward the bathroom. I searched the drawer, tossing 
half the contents onto the counter and came up with two packets 
of condoms and a half-used tube of KY. I had no idea how long 
either had been in there, but they would have to do.

Jack was exactly where I’d left him, staring blankly at the 
ceiling.

“Ever done this before,” I asked as I lubed two fingers.

“Yeah.”

I did a double take. I’d just been trying to make conversation. 
The fact that Jack might have had sex with men in the past 
hadn’t really crossed my mind. “Recently?”

“In college.”

Not recently. I nodded. “I’ll try to go slow then.”

“No, don’t. I can take it.”

I held back a groan. “I’m sure you can, darlin’, but I ain’t 
gonna hurt you if I can help it.”

He sighed and closed his eyes as I started probing with one 
finger. “You won’t hurt me.”

I pushed my finger slowly inside him. His body tightened 
briefly and then went slack, allowing me in easily. He bucked 
his hips up toward me, trying to push me deeper. I ignored his 
silent demand, searching for the spot inside him that would 
make him scream...hopefully.

“Up a little,” he directed softly. “And to the left...there, 
like that...” He sighed and rolled his hips to meet my 
movements, but his dick still barely stirred.

I slipped a second and third finger inside easily, distracting 
him by mapping his torso with my lips and tongue. 

“You sure about this,” I asked, licking the tip of his cock. It 
twitched a little but still refused to get hard.

He shoved me back and rolled over awkwardly, damn near kicking 
me in the crotch in the process. He ended up on his knees and 
elbows, his legs spread so I could see his wet opening clearly. 
My cock twitched eagerly at the invitation. 

“Guess that’s a yes,” I muttered.

“Shut up,” he growled.

I sighed and reached for a pillow, positioning it under him and 
pushing him down onto it. I figured maybe the friction against 
his dick would help get him off. That and it’d be easier for 
him to relax.

I got the condom on quickly and knelt between his legs, coaxing 
them a little wider and tilting his hips up. I lined myself up 
and leaned over him, my elbows just outside and a little behind 
his. 

“Relax,” I whispered, pushing forward gently.

“Just do it.” 

Fine. I snapped my hips forward, burying the head of my cock, 
my groan nearly covering his surprised grunt. Fuck, he was 
tight. I rested my forehead on his shoulder and took deep 
breaths, forcing myself to hold still. “Jesus,...” I rocked my 
hips slightly, slipping a little further inside.

His groan was muffled slightly. Then he shifted, opening 
himself up a little more and I felt him start to loosen and all 
thoughts of being gentle flew from my mind. I shoved forward, 
hissing as my dick was completely surrounded by the tight, 
pulsing heat.

“Fuck,” I groaned, moving in tiny, instinctive thrusts. “You 
feel so good baby...”

It took me a minute to register the stiffness in his back – the 
way his hands clutched the sheets – and another minute to stop 
moving. “Damnit,” I muttered into his neck. I took a few deep 
breaths until the need to move didn’t feel quite so urgent. I 
covered his clenched hands with mine and nuzzled his ear. “You 
okay?”

“Move,” he gasped.

I kissed the soft skin behind his ear and felt him shiver. “You 
gotta relax for me first, baby.”

He groaned, but I felt his hands loosen a little.

I tangled my fingers with his. “That’s it.” I rolled my hips 
gently – not thrusting - just enough for him to feel it. He 
moaned and I felt his muscles tense around my cock briefly 
before starting to give. I kissed his neck gratefully and 
pulled out just a little, carefully pushing back in.

He groaned again and I felt a whole load of tension go out of 
him. I shook damp hair from my eyes and braced myself, feeling 
my arms tremble from the effort it took to hold back and go 
slow. I buried my nose in his hair and kissed the back of his 
neck. “How’s that feel,” I murmured.

He hummed softly, distantly and I felt him relax even more, his 
body opening completely to my steady thrusts. I groaned and 
leaned back, making my strokes longer, going deeper. I never 
was much for flowery sentiments and mindless compliments but 
damned if being inside Jack wasn’t better than I’d imagined – 
and I had spent a good deal of time imagining it. It still 
wasn’t enough though. I wanted to see his face. I wanted to 
feel his cock throb in my hand – wanted to feel him squeeze 
around my cock and see his eyes roll back in his head when he 
came. 

I ground my teeth and pulled out of him. “Roll over,” I gasped.

He didn’t move.

“C’mon, Doc.” I patted his hip clumsily.

He still didn’t move. In fact, he lay completely still. He 
didn’t seem to even notice I wasn’t inside him anymore. Panic 
began to creep past the cloud of lust in my mind.

“Jack?” I jabbed at his neck with two fingers, searching for a 
pulse. It wasn’t until I found it throbbing beneath the skin 
that I heard the soft noise he was making between deep breaths. 
Bastard was snoring.

I let out a long string of curses and rolled onto the bed 
beside him. I ripped the condom off and chucked it at the 
trashcan. It only took a couple strokes of my hand to finish me 
off and I held back a groan, even though I doubted Jack would 
hear it. I stared at the ceiling as my head cleared, my 
annoyance gradually melting. Damn stubborn bastard. I should 
never have let him talk me into this. I grabbed a handful of 
Kleenex and cleaned us both off. He mumbled in his sleep when I 
pulled the pillow out from under his hips. 

I shut out the main lights but left on a small reading lamp. I 
didn’t need Jack bumping into things and hurting himself if he 
woke up in the dark and forgot where he was.

I set the alarm to go off in a few hours and crawled into bed 
next to him, resting a hand on his back and drifting to sleep.

********

I was shaken from a deep sleep a good half-hour before the 
alarm was supposed to go off. I blinked and slowly focused on 
the empty mattress next to me. Damnit.

A noise came from the bathroom and I shot out of bed, stumbling 
toward the sound. Jack stood at the sink, searching the 
medicine cabinet, jars of aspirin and a prescription sleeping 
pill sitting on the counter. 

“What the hell d’you think you’re doin’,” I snapped. In two 
steps I was next to him and I slammed the cabinet shut. He 
barely pulled his hand free in time.

“I just...”

“You just nothin’. Get back to bed!”

He winced. “Tylenol,” he ground out. “I was looking for 
Tylenol.”

I hesitated. “Tylenol,” I repeated dumbly.

“I have a headache,” he said pointedly.

I ignored the accusation. “What’s wrong with aspirin?”

“Too strong. If I have a concussion I can’t have anything 
stronger than Tylenol.”

My eyes narrowed. He could be lying. But Tylenol was harmless 
enough. I’d just have to hide the rest of the meds in the house 
before he decided to go searching for something stronger. I 
opened the cabinet and reached for one of the bottles in the 
back. I had no idea how long it had been there, but it would 
have to do. I handed him four pills and filled a cup with water 
while he took two and gave the rest back.

“Go back to bed,” I said, gentler this time, when he’d 
finished.

He gave me a withering look, but shuffled back to the bedroom 
without another word.

I stood there for another minute debating. ‘No use backing out 
now,’ I decided. I grabbed a trashbag and swept all the bottles 
except the Tylenol into it.

Jack didn’t stir as I cut through the bedroom and headed for 
the kitchen. I shoved the pills into a cabinet. Then, just in 
case he was listening, I opened and closed a few more cabinets 
and drawers and rattled around in them for a bit. I even opened 
the fridge and the drawer with all the pots and pans. Then I 
changed my mind and pulled the meds out of the cupboard and 
stuck them between a couple piles of clutter in the storage 
room on my way back. 

When I was satisfied, I fired up the computer in the office so I 
could do some quick research on the drug that had been in that 
packet...Oxysomething.

******
(Three Hours Later)

“You can’t keep me here,” Jack said while I checked his pupils.

“Seein’ as I’m the one with the car I’m thinkin’ I can. They 
look even to me.”

Jack sighed. “Then I should be out of danger. You can let me 
sleep until morning.”

I glanced at the clock and shrugged. Morning wasn’t that long 
off anymore anyway. “Fine by me.”

********

I found Jack ransacking the kitchen when I woke up. ‘That 
didn’t take long.’

“Mornin’.” 

Jack glared at me. “Where is it?”

“Where’s what,” I asked innocently, pulling a carton of juice 
from the fridge and retrieving a glass. Normally I would just 
drink from the carton, but I didn’t normally have houseguests.

“My phone,” Jack growled.

“Oh, that. Same place as the drugs.” Hidden. “I take it you 
already figured out the land line’s disconnected.”

He grabbed me by the arm and spun me around. Some juice spilled 
on the counter before I had a chance to tip the carton back 
upright. I looked into his bloodshot eyes tiredly. “This is 
kidnapping,” he hissed.

I held back a sigh. Here we go again. “Actually, I think it’s 
called an intervention.”

His eyes flashed. “I don’t need an intervention.”

“’course not. You’d rather just kill yourself.” I tugged my arm 
free, finished pouring the glass, and thrust it into his hands. 
“Drink.”

He threw the juice in my face. “Fuck you.” He slammed the glass 
on the counter and stormed from the room.

I shrugged and poured a glass for myself. Before I could drink 
it the house alarm started blaring. I ran to find Jack staring 
at the keypad, dumbfounded, his hand frozen on the knob of the 
barely-open front door. I stood between him and the keypad so 
he couldn’t see the numbers I punched in. 

“Close the door,” I said when the alarm stopped. 

He didn’t move. He just gaped at me, the shock in his eyes 
changing to anger. I pulled his hand from the knob and slammed 
the door, then re-armed the system. ‘If looks could kill,’ I 
thought tiredly as I turned back to face him.

He didn’t say anything. Just clenched his jaw, spun around and 
marched toward the bedroom.

I sighed and followed him. “What’re you doin’ now?”

“I’m gonna find my phone and I’m gonna call the police,” he 
snapped.

“No you won’t.”

He spun back around. “Why the hell not?”

“Same reason you wouldn’t go to the hospital last night. You 
don’t want anyone findin’ out just how fucked up you’ve 
gotten.”

He sneered and I was reminded of just how ugly he could get 
when he was angry. “That was different,” he growled.

“Is it now? ‘Cause I don’t think it’ll make much difference to 
the press.”

Jack snorted. “You think they’d believe you? They don’t even 
know you’re still alive.”

“Yeah, they don’t know I got part o’ your settlement either. 
What d’you suppose they’d think if they found that out?”

His eyes widened. “You would put us all in danger...”

“No officer,” I recited. “Just the seven of us. Jack and I 
talked ‘em into pretendin’ I didn’t make it so people’d leave 
me alone. The rest of ‘em didn’t know the Doc was payin’ me.”

He was so angry he was starting to shake.

I barreled on before he could start yelling. “Your choice, Doc. 
I don’t wanna do it but if you go and get me arrested people 
are bound to start askin’ questions.”

I was right and he knew it. He just wasn’t about to admit it 
yet. He came at me suddenly. Luckily he was slow enough that I 
could duck his fist easily. I grabbed his arm and shoved him 
against the nearest wall, pinning his wrists on either side of 
his head. 

“Why are you doing this,” he gasped as he fought to free 
himself. “What do you want?”

I tightened my grip and noted that he had to have lost some 
muscle tone since the island. Usually I wouldn’t be able to 
hold him still for long. “I want you to stop this shit before 
you end up in the Loony Bin with Lardo.”

He stopped struggling and took several deep breaths through his 
nose, slowly calming a little. 

“I’m gettin’ you off those pills, Doc.”

That got him struggling again. “You can’t...you don’t know what 
you’re doing. You’ll kill me.”

I smiled but it probably looked more like a grimace. “Nice try 
but you ain’t foolin’ me. I did a little readin’. Goin’ cold 
turkey hurts like hell but judgin’ by your last dose, it won’t 
kill ya.” 

His head snapped forward, his forehead smashing into mine 
before I knew what he was doing. Everything went white and I 
staggered back, letting him go. ‘Must’ve learned that trick 
from Kate,’ I thought. I blinked, forcing my eyes to focus so I  
could block his next attack, but he was just standing there, 
cradling his forehead where he’d no doubt just given himself 
another ugly bruise. I hoped the bastard hadn’t given himself 
another concussion. That probably would kill him. 

I shoved him against the wall again before he could take 
another swing, face-first this time, pinning his arms behind 
his back. “I’m doin’ this for your own good, Jack,” I said in 
as calm a voice as I could manage right in his ear. “We can do 
this the easy way or we can do it the hard way. Your choice.”

He only struggled half-heartedly this time. He knew he’d been 
beat. “At least let me talk to Kate.”

“What d’you think she’s gonna do, come charging in here on a 
white horse to rescue ya?”

“Does she know I’m here? Does she know what you’re doing?” 
There was a distinct note of betrayal in his voice.

“She ain’t got anythin’ to do with this. Not anymore.” I sighed 
and rested my forehead against the back of his neck. “Stop 
fightin’ me, Jack,” I pleaded tiredly.

He finally stilled his struggles. “What are you getting out of 
this?”

“What?”

“You’ve done the research...you must know what the symptoms are 
going to be like. You would never volunteer to deal with that 
unless you were getting something out of it.”

He gasped as I spun him around. I trapped him between myself 
and the wall, cupped the back of his neck with one hand and 
kissed him. He whimpered as his lips were probably bruised from 
the force of it, but opened his mouth anyway, letting me lead 
him. I let him up when I couldn’t go without air any longer and 
looked into his dazed eyes. “You’re right,” I murmured, running 
my thumb along his jaw. “I am gettin’ somethin’ out of it. I’m 
gettin’ to keep you alive. I ain’t ready to let you go yet.”

His breath hitched a little. Probably in surprise. His free 
hand came up to grip my wrist, squeezing a little. He closed 
his eyes and took a minute to steady himself. “James...” he 
said softly. “Please. You can’t just take me off them. The 
dosage needs to be tapered off...”

“Hospital sent you home early and they ain’t callin’ to ask 
where you are. I’m guessin’ nobody there’s willin’ to give you 
a prescription anymore, right? That why you’re stealin’ free 
samples?”

He didn’t say anything, but the look on his face told me I was 
right. 

“’less you got a whole lot more of those packets it looks like 
you ain’t got much choice.”

He shook his head, his eyes going wet with tears. “I can’t...”

I groaned inwardly. He looked so goddamn vulnerable and needy. 
Usually that was enough to turn me off – get me looking for a 
way out before it was too late. But with Jack it was different. 
Some instinct I hadn’t known I had made me want to protect him 
– fix him. I wondered vaguely when, exactly, our roles had 
switched. I cradled his jaw carefully in one hand and pitched 
my voice to what I hoped was a soothing register. “Yeah, you 
can. I’m gonna help you.”

He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths through his 
nose. He made a tiny, distressed noise and then, thankfully, he 
nodded.

“All right then.” I let my hand fall and took a step back, 
relaxing as he showed no further signs of resistance. “You 
hungry?”

**********

“I think something’s wrong with your phone,” Kate said as I 
pulled the car out of her driveway.

“Ah...no. I disconnected the land line.”

I could feel her eyes on me and just knew she had that 
suspicious look on her face. “Why?”

“Long story. You’ve got my cell number if you need to call me.”

She went quiet, watching the traffic go by for a while. “Are 
you going to tell me what’s going on here,” she finally asked.

I held back a sigh. Might as well tell her or she’ll keep 
askin’. “He’s detoxin’. I’m keepin’ an eye on ‘im till the 
withdrawal wears off.”

She inhaled sharply. “Is that safe?”

“Safer ‘n lettin’ him keep goin’ like this.”

She went quiet again. I glanced at her. She was staring out the 
window, biting her lip, her fingers absently plucking her 
jeans. 

“You knew how I felt about him, didn’t ya? That’s why you 
called me.”

She stopped plucking and I caught the smirk she tried to hold 
in from the corner of my eye. “You never were very subtle, 
James.”

“Why didn’t you just say so,” I grumbled.

“You would’ve denied it,” she said simply and I realized she 
was probably right. “He’s been denying it since...” She 
faltered. “For a long time.”

I turned onto the road that would lead us past the airport. 
“Yeah, well, from the way he tried to jump me last night, I’d 
say he’s past denial.”

A small giggle escaped her, which she quickly stifled. “He 
did?”

“Yeah, well, he also tried to take my head off this mornin’ so 
I wouldn’t go readin’ much into it,” I muttered as I turned 
into the tow lot down the street from the airport.

“That was the drugs talking. He feels the same way,” she 
dismissed.

I snorted. “What makes you so sure it wasn’t the drugs talkin’ 
last night?”

“Because I saw how he took care of you after you were shot.”

I parked the car and shut off the engine, then turned to her. 
She had that uncomfortable look like she was sharing a secret 
that wasn’t hers to tell. “Just...trust me on this,” she 
finished hurriedly, opening the door and scooting out before I 
could say anything else. 

I paid to get Jack’s car back and handed the key to Kate. “I’ll 
call you when we need it.”

She nodded, hesitated a second, then stepped forward suddenly 
to hug me. “Take care of him,” she murmured in my ear.

I sighed. “Yeah.”

She gave me one last small smile before climbing into Jack’s 
truck and heading back home.

“Woman’s intuition,” I muttered, climbing back into my car. 
“Sure. Probably just waitin’ to see if we kill each other.”

********
(Three years earlier)

I could hear Kate screaming before I even got my head above 
water.

"JACK!"

I blinked water from my eyes and squinted at her, half leaning 
out of the raft, a very shaken Hugo sitting next to her, 
clutching the baby.. "Sawyer!" She pointed behind me.

I followed her gesture and saw Jack floating about twenty feet 
away from me, face down. Shit.

I managed to flip him over and drag him to the raft, Scotty 
meeting me halfway.

Sayid and the Kenny Rogers look alike from the boat pulled him 
onto the raft. I crawled in and bent over Jack's head, ear to 
his mouth.

"He ain't breathin'."

Sayid was already pressing the heels of his hands to Jack's 
chest and pushing. A little bit of water dribbled from Jack's 
mouth and I turned his head instinctively, letting it run out. 
Then I turned it back, pinched his nose and started breathing 
for him.

I leaned back while Sayid pumped again, watching Jack's face 
for movement. "C'mon, Doc," I muttered and breathed for him 
again. 'This ain't how I pictured finally gettin' to kiss you,' 
I thought.

Pump. Breathe. A muffled sob from Kate. Pump. 

It felt like too damn long before Jack coughed, water spewing 
from his mouth. Sayid rolled him in my direction and he coughed 
up a good gallon of water. I steadied him with a hand on his 
shoulder and muttered useless things in his ear like "just 
breathe, Doc."

Kate suddenly crawled up beside me and yanked Jack's shirt up. 
Before I could ask what the hell she was doing she cursed, put 
it back down and jammed the heel of her hand over the blood 
stain on his shirt. "His stitches opened."

"Where's his pack?" He had a sewing kit in there, didn't he?

Kate's eyes met mine. She looked grim. "He left it on the 
island."

"Shit."

Jack made a soft grunting noise and I looked back at his face, 
just meeting his unfocused eyes before they fluttered shut.

"Doc..." I pressed a couple fingers to his neck, feeling around 
for a pulse. It was there. A bit jittery as far as I could 
tell, but there. I peeled my shirt off and handed it to Kate. 
She wadded it up and jammed it under Jack's shirt, against the 
wound. He didn't move a muscle. "What the hell just 
happened," I asked nobody in particular.

"Ben did it," Hugo said quietly. I turned to see him leaning 
against the side of the raft next to Sun, the baby suddenly in 
her arms. "He moved the island."

I held in a groan. "Well what the hell're we s'pposed to do 
now?"

Nobody said anything. We all knew that unless some miracle 
happened and a ship happened to cross our path we would all die 
in this raft. And Jack would be the first to go.

********

"You'll have to lie," Jack said hours later, his voice barely 
more than a hoarse whisper. 

"What?" Kate leaned closer. She's given up her job of watching 
Jack's wound and stemming any bleeding to Sayid but that hadn't 
stopped her from hovering over Jack, even with the baby in her 
arms.

Jack shuddered and I rubbed his arms a little harder, pulling 
him in tighter against my chest. Since the sun had gone down 
he'd been shivering on and off. "Easy," I muttered.

"'s the only way...to protect them." He moaned softly, his head 
dropping onto my shoulder. "Tell them...the rest of us died in 
the crash."

Kate caught the meaning of the words before I did and her eyes 
went wide. "Us? Jack, we're not leaving you behind."

He coughed and moaned in pain. "If I don't make it..."

I clamped a hand over his mouth and spoke right in his ear, my 
voice low enough that no one other than Sayid and Kate could 
hope to make out the words. "Don't you dare fuckin' give up on 
me, Doc. When that ship comes you're gettin' on it if I have to 
carry you. I didn't save your sorry ass to sit here an' watch 
you die. You hear me?"

His tiny whimper was muffled by my hand. He closed his eyes and 
nodded. I let go and Kate reached out to wipe a pained tear 
from his cheek, giving me a strange look.

"It's okay," she murmured. "Just hold on."

What felt like an hour later we heard a faint rumbling in the 
distance.

"Guys...is that what I think it is," Hugo asked, pointing at a 
tiny light bobbing in the water.

The scruffy guy stood and squinted toward it. "Yeah, that's a 
boat."

A minute later everyone was up and screaming and waving. 
Everyone but me, Sayid and Jack. I kept rubbing Jack's arms, 
holding him tight, trying to keep him warm, resisting the 
sudden urge to burry my face in the soft skin of his 
neck...resisting the urge to kiss him and tell him everything 
would be fine. I vaguely wondered if Sayid could see the 
longing to do all these things in my eyes.

It wasn't until Jack was safely on the ship that I realized 
I was shaking with relief.

I went to check on him a few hours later, once everyone had 
settled and decided to leave him be. He was asleep, a portable 
oxygen tank giving his poor, overworked and water logged lungs 
a break. I sat watching him for a while, finding comfort in the 
regular breaths that fogged up the mask on his face. He looked 
so vulnerable...so fragile...so unlike the Jack I had known for 
the past few months. I gripped his wrist lightly, finding 
comfort in the fluttering pulse I felt against my fingers.

"You scared the hell outta me, Doc," I whispered. 

His eyelids fluttered but stayed closed.

"Sawyer?"

I jumped, letting go of Jack's arm like I'd touched a hot stove 
and turning to find Kate standing in the doorway.

She frowned. "What are you doing?"

"Ah...nothin'. I was just checkin' on him. Make sure he hadn't 
died after all."

She gave me another odd look, much like the one she'd given me 
on the raft, but didn't comment. "The ship's doctor said he'll 
be okay. He'll have a scar now, but...he'll live. Thanks to 
you."

I had almost forgotten the stitches. At the mention of the scar 
I reached over to pull up his T-shirt, finding a mound of 
bandages taped to his abdomen, a little blood showing through. 
Jack shivered and I pulled the shirt back down and drew the 
thin blanket that had fallen to his waist back up over his 
chest. "Juliet really take his appendix out?"

"Yeah. He kept insisting it was a stomach bug. Juliet said if 
he'd waited any longer he might not have made it."

I snorted lightly. "Sounds like Jack." Stubborn bastard. I got 
up to leave and noticed the pained look on her face. "You 
okay, Freckles?"

She looked a little surprised that I'd caught her. "Yeah, I 
just..." She closed her eyes for a moment and chewed on her 
lip. "He was conscious when she cut him open."

I barely restrained a groan. That sounded like Jack too.

"He had me hold up a mirror so he could see...It didn't work. 
Bernard had to knock him out, but..." Her eyes went damp. 
"I can't stop hearing those noises he made. It was like he was 
being tortured."

I sighed inwardly and pulled her into a hug.

She gripped my shoulders tightly. "I don't ever want to see him 
in that much pain again. I don't think I could take it."

"You won't have to," I promised.

A week later I helped Jack into the raft that would take all 
the Oceanic refugees to a small island somewhere off the Asian 
coast.

"Thank you," he murmured. "For saving me."

I eased him into the raft and slipped his arm from my shoulder, 
clasping his hand. "Y' saved my life plenty o' times, Doc. I 
owe ya one."

He squeezed my hand once and nodded. I reluctantly let go of 
him and helped Scotty...Desmond...push the raft from the boat, 
watching Sayid and Kate take up the long boards and paddle 
toward shore.

By the time I hit land, the story of how the Oceanic Six had 
miraculously survived the crash was plastered across every 
newspaper and news channel. I changed my name to James Sawyer 
and tried to keep a low profile. I talked to Kate every couple 
months, but otherwise I did my damndest to distance myself from 
anything that had to do with the island. I tried to fade into 
the background. It worked and I almost forgot about the desire 
I'd once felt for Jack Shephard...until he started drinking, 
doing drugs and talking Kate's ear off about going back. Until 
he finally pushed her over the edge and, in a moment of 
desperation, she called me. I could just hear Old Baldy's voice 
in the back of my head purring "everything happens for a 
reason." Damn smug bastard. 

********
(Present)

I made a couple stops on the way back, trying to get as many of 
the things on the list I’d made researching withdrawl treatment 
as possible. I wasn’t sure it was safe to leave him in the 
house alone but I certainly didn’t want to do it when the 
symptoms really kicked in. I knew I had a pair of handcuffs 
somewhere, but I only wanted to use them if I had to.

The house was too quiet. “Jack,” I called warily, heading for 
the bedroom. Nothing. “Jack,” I called again, louder and 
sharper.

A soft noise came from the bathroom and I followed it. He was 
on the floor, curled next to the toilet where he had clearly 
thrown up the entire breakfast I had forced him to eat. Sweat 
was already beginning to stain the t-shirt I had given him.

I sighed, set the bag of supplies on the counter and flushed 
the toilet. “C’mon, let’s get you back to bed,” I said, 
kneeling down and reaching for him.

He slapped my hand away and slurred “don’ touch me.”

I crouched until my face was level with his. “Pain?”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t even give any sign he’d heard me. I 
took it as a confirmation.

“How bad?”

He opened his eyes and glared at me.

“Hey, I’m tryin’ to help you out here, but you gotta talk to 
me. Where’s it hurt?”

“I’m fine. Just...leave me alone,” he ground out.

I had known Jack long enough to know that the words “I’m fine” 
usually left his mouth just before he pitched face-first into 
the ground. I sighed and stood, stepping around him to get to 
the bathtub. I got the hot water running and searched through 
the bag for the milk carton shaped box of salt, tossing a 
handful into the bath.

I crouched back beside him and nudged him gently. “C’mon Jack, 
get up.”

He grumbled something that was probably a curse.

I nudged harder. “C’mon. Don’t make me carry you.”

He finally, reluctantly, hauled himself upright, not quite 
straightening his back. I helped him remove the dampened shirt 
and pulled him to his feet. He groaned and leaned heavily on 
me, not resisting as I shoved his pants down.

I practically carried him to the tub anyway, though he tried to 
help. He sat on one end of the tub, curled protectively around 
his middle.

I shut off the water and reached for a washcloth. “That warm 
enough?”

He didn’t answer – just sat there with his head on his knees, 
rocking himself like a kid.

I knelt back down and dunked the cloth in the water, wringing 
it out over his back a few times. “Sit back, baby.”

He slowly uncurled himself and leaned back, his head resting on 
the ledge, closing his eyes as I ran the cloth over his neck 
and chest.

I abandoned the cloth for a moment and dipped my hand below the 
surface, running my fingers along the scar on his abdomen, not 
entirely sure what I was looking for. “This hurt?”

He pushed my hand away. “No.”

My patience with his stoic act snapped and I grabbed his chin, 
forcing him to look at me. “Listen, you son of a bitch. I’m 
tryin’ to help you here, but if you don’t stop bein’ so goddamn 
stubborn and start fuckin’ cooperatin’ I’ll check you into that 
damned hospital myself.”

He winced. “It’s the withdrawal,” he said quietly. “Everything 
aches.”

I softened instinctively at the look in his eyes, my grip 
loosening. “Anythin’ I can do?”

He sighed and closed his eyes. “Aside from giving me meds? Not 
much.” He shifted a little and frowned. “What’d you put in the 
water?”

“Epsom salt. S’posed to pull the drugs through the skin.”

He blinked. “That’s...pretty good.”

“Try not to act too surprised, Doc,” I smirked, taking up the 
washcloth again. “I told you, I did some research.”

“Then you should know the symptoms of withdrawal.”

“Just eliminatin’ possibilities, Doc.”

He just stared, looking more alert than he had in hours. 
“Sawyer...are you sure you can do this?”

‘Guess we’ll find out,’ I thought. I held back the wise crack 
though. “I ain’t sayin’ it’s gonna be easy. ‘spite what you 
might think, I don’t like seein’ you in pain.” I stopped 
running the cloth over his chest and cupped his cheek. “But if 
I can get you through this...I’m gonna do my best.”

“I’m gonna be a mess...”

“I don’t care.”

“Runny nose...drooling, vomiting...insomnia...”

“Yeah, yeah, and a bunch o’ other symptoms that look like the 
flu. What’re you drivin’ at here, Doc?”

His eyes bored into mine. “Are you sure,” he repeated, 
stressing every word.

I slapped the washcloth over the lip of the tub, ignoring his 
tiny flinch. “You think a few body fluids is gonna turn me off 
o’ you?”

He didn’t answer, which was answer enough. 

I grabbed his face between my hands and kissed him, hard, like 
I could force him to see how much I wanted him. I pulled back 
after a minute and looked deep into his dazed eyes. “I don’t 
care if you piss all over me, Doc. Y’ain’t gettin’ rid of me.”

He sighed, his head falling back to rest on the edge of the 
tub. “We’ll see,” he mumbled.

I wanted to slap him but I held back. “You think you’ll be okay 
in here if I go in the kitchen?”

I thought a needy look might have flashed in his eyes for a 
moment, but I figured it was probably my imagination. He 
nodded.

I nodded too. “You stay in there. I’ll come get you when it’s 
been long enough.” He stared at some spot on the wall, 
seemingly ignoring me. I pinched his ear. “You hear me?”

“Yes,” he hissed.

I rubbed the spot I’d pinched lightly. “Don’t go fallin’ asleep 
on me.”

“I won’t,” he mumbled.

Satisfied, I stood, grabbed the rest of the supplies I’d bought 
and left him to it.

I got everything put away except the tea and checked my watch. 
Still about ten minutes to go for the salt to be really 
effective. But I figured I should check on him anyway in case 
he fell asleep after all.

I heard a muffled groan before I even poked my head around the 
door. He had his eyes closed, his head tilted back over the 
ledge, and he appeared to be shaking.

I frowned and took a step into the bathroom. “Y’okay, Doc?”

He practically jumped out of his skin and swore loudly, his 
hands coming up out of the water where I could see them, 
gripping the sides of the tub so hard his knuckles turned 
white. “I’m fine, Sawyer,” he panted.

“You don’t sound fine.” I took a step closer.

“Please, just...go away.”

I took another step closer and glanced down, smirking as his 
half-hard cock came into view below the water. He hadn’t been 
shaking. “You usually do that when you’re bored?”

He groaned and tried to bring his knees up to hide his 
condition – as if he had anything to hide from me anymore. I 
decided he was cute when he was flustered. “Natural endorphins,” 
he muttered. “Helps with the pain. And it’s a distraction...”

“Ah, well, long’s you got a medical reason. Need any help with 
that?”

He turned an interesting shade of red. “No, I’ve got it, 
thanks.”

“What? You were beggin’ me to fuck you last night. You shy all 
‘f a sudden?”

He moaned, his head dropping back. “Please, Sawyer. I’m not in 
the mood.”

“Uh-huh.” I took off my watch and knelt beside the tub, rolling 
up my sleeve.

He squirmed uncomfortably. “What’re you doing?”

“Relax...I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” I coaxed his legs open. “’less 
you want me to.”

He gave me a half-hearted glare, then hissed as I started 
circling his opening with one finger.

“Keep goin’,” I encouraged.

He slowly, hesitantly reached for his cock again, wrapping his 
hand around it loosely and stroking once. 

I mistook his hesitance for apprehension. “Just so y’know...I 
stopped. Last night, after you passed out.”

A confused frown flitted across his face and disappeared. “I 
know.”

My finger stopped circling. “You do?”

“I saw the empty condom and Kleenex in the trash.”

“Oh.” I started pulling my hand away, feeling unsure suddenly, 
but his other hand lashed out and grabbed it before I could get 
too far. A pained look flashed across his face for a moment at 
the sudden movement but he covered quickly.

“No, it’s okay...please.”

“You sure?”

He nodded and guided my hand back between his legs, sighing and 
going back to his handjob when my finger started circling 
again. I leaned in to kiss him, just brushing his lips with 
mine, feeling him gasp when I slid the tip of the finger 
inside.

“This okay?”

He nodded shakily, his nose bumping mine.

I smiled. “Just relax.” I nipped at his lower lip and kissed my 
way down his chin to his throat, feeling the skin quiver with 
his racing pulse. I felt him relax around my finger and pushed 
further, going past the second knuckle. 

He whimpered and writhed a little, his legs tensing and 
relaxing, spreading a little wider.

I found his prostate much faster the second time around and 
pressed against it, massaging tiny circles.

He made a sound like a half-swallowed shout and arched his 
back. I felt his hand movements grow rougher – though not much 
faster.

I leaned back to look at his face and held back a groan. He was 
so fucking gorgeous like this – cheeks flushed, eyes unfocused, 
lips dark and a little swollen. It made me want to yank him out 
of that tub and fuck him until he screamed.

My cock twitched and I shifted on my knees, trying to relieve 
the pressure of my jeans.

He noticed the movement and reached over the edge of the tub 
with his free hand, clumsily trying to get my fly open but only 
succeeding in getting me wet.

I helped him, fumbling a little myself, and groaned as he 
wrapped his hand around me and started jerking me at the same 
speed and rhythm he did himself. I ground my teeth and tried to 
keep my other hand steady, my finger making hard, tight circles 
on his prostate, my palm cradling his balls.

His head fell back and he made tiny jerking motions with his 
hips, thrusting against my hand and his own fist. Then, 
suddenly, he was coming, his body clamping down on my finger, 
muscles rippling with waves of pleasure. His hand squeezed my 
cock mid-spasm and I thrust a couple times instinctively before 
coming, splattering the floor and practically ruining my jeans.

“You okay,” I gasped when I got my voice back.

He nodded, his head falling back to rest on the edge of the 
tub, eyes closed, panting softly.

I pulled my hand free gently and reached for the washcloth, 
cleaning myself and wiping the worst of the spill from the 
floor. I carefully tucked myself back into my jeans, wincing a 
little in discomfort, and got up to retrieve another washcloth, 
tossing the old one with the laundry. I checked my watch while 
I put it back on. “Y’got about seven more minutes,” I said, 
tucking the new washcloth into his hand. “Think y’can stay 
awake?”

He had opened his eyes at some point and was just staring at me 
quietly with this expression I couldn’t really read. It made me 
nervous. He nodded slowly.

I kissed his forehead. “Be right back. Don’t move.”

I went back to the kitchen and started making the tea that 
would hopefully help him relax, throwing in a little Brandy to 
be sure.

By the time I went back to get him out he had already drained 
the tub and was standing under the shower spray, head down, 
leaning against the wall. 

“What part of ‘don’t move’ did you not understand?”

Jack sighed. “It’s just a suggestion, Sawyer. Two minutes isn’t 
going to make that much difference.” He didn’t even look up at 
me.

I reached in and turned the water off. “This ain’t about two 
minutes, Jackass. This’s about you listenin’ to me and doin’ 
what I tell you to.”

“I’m not a child,” he mumbled, brushing past me and reaching 
for a towel, tucking it around his waist.

“Then quit actin’ like one!”

He glowered at me and reached for his toothbrush. “An hour of 
research on the Internet hardly makes you an expert on 
homeopathic treatment.”

“Yeah, well, at least I’m tryin’ to help you. You keep fightin’ 
me and I’ll have to check you into that hospital o’ yours.”

He glared at me in the mirror and jammed the toothbrush into 
his mouth.

I dug my nails into my palms and told myself that slapping him 
would only make him fight harder. “Come in the kitchen when 
you’re done,” I muttered.

I added a little hot water to the tea cup when I got back and 
slammed the kettle back on the stove. “Think I’m gonna put up 
with this bullshit you’ve got another thing comin’.” I ran my 
hand through my hair and forced myself to calm down. I knew he 
would fight me, really. He’d always been a stubborn son of a 
bitch. Not that knowing that made it any less annoying.

He came in the room a couple minutes later, dressed in the same 
sweatpants but with another shirt he’d found in a drawer. He 
sat slowly and carefully, like he was still in some pain. I 
shoved the tea in front of him with a growl of “drink” and 
collapsed into the seat next to him.

He wrapped his hands around the cup and stared at it. “I’m 
sorry,” he said quietly. 

I knew he was, but I wasn’t sure he knew just what he was 
supposed to be sorry for. “Drink,” I said again.

He took a tentative sip and looked up at me in surprise. 
“There’s alcohol in this.”

“A little. Just to help you relax. Tea’s s’pposed to help with 
that too.”

“You shouldn’t give me alcohol...”

“The rest of the liquor’s locked up safe. I ain’t givin’ you 
more’n my momma gave me when I was sick. Far cry from gettin' 
you drunk.”

He went quiet, staring into the cup again. “I’m not used to 
being on this side,” he said finally.

“No kiddin,” I said dryly.

He shot me a withering look. “It might help if you told me 
exactly what this treatment consists of.”

I figured it couldn’t hurt. “Carrot juice, plenty o’ water, 
some vitamin supplements...salt baths 30 minutes a day to push 
the drugs outta your system and help with the pain. 
Chamomille’s for the nerves.”

“The salt doesn’t help with the pain. It pulls the drugs out 
faster, but only slightly.”

“Yeah, well, I got two cartons of the stuff so we’re doin’ it 
anyway. If it’ll get that shit outta you faster, I don’t care 
how *slight* it is.”

He nodded and took another sip of tea, grimacing a little. 
“Pretty much anything that helps you relax can help with the 
pain and tension. Bath, heat packs, massage...”

“Blowjobs,” I cut in.

He blushed. “Yeah, well...I’d try massage first.”

I smirked. “Sure thing, Doc. Anythin’ else I should know?”

He swirled the tea in the cup absently and raised it to his 
lips. “Yeah...I hate tea.” He looked at me pointedly and drank.

I blinked, confused. Then I realized he was trying to prove he 
was willing to cooperate and nodded. “Ah...the alcohol help?”

He shrugged. “A little. Still tastes like tea.”

“Well, I guess you’ll just have ta pinch your noise and swallow 
it ‘less you can think o’ somethin’ better.”

“It’s fine,” he mumbled. “I’ll get used to it.” 

He took another sip and I noticed a slight trembling in his 
hand. I nodded toward it. “You cold?”

He winced slightly as he put the cup down. “No.”

I nodded. The shakes had started then. I silently reached for 
his nearest hand and massaged it between both of mine. “You 
gonna start listenin’ to me then?”

A weak smile pulled at the corner of his lips. “I’ll try.”

*********

Jack moaned pathetically as I slipped a pillow beneath his 
head. 

“Sorry,” I muttered. I threw a blanket over him to ward off the 
cold chill from the bathroom tile and went back to feeding him 
small ice chips, brushing my thumb over his dry lips to spread 
the moisture. “You wanna try drinkin’ again?” 

He had told me earlier that if he went for too long without 
being able to keep fluids down I would have to take him to the 
hospital. Of course, I doubted he would willingly tell me when 
it had been “too long”.

His face screwed up at the idea. “Not yet.” His body trembled 
and he gave a small dry heave – an aftershock of his last round 
of nausea.

I sighed and slid under the blanket with him, pulling him into 
my arms, resigned to spend the night on the bathroom floor, if 
not in an emergency room. Though at that point I doubted I had 
the energy or strength to carry him to the car and he certainly 
wouldn’t make it under his own steam.

He choked back a whimper and clutched weakly at my shoulders.

“Easy,” I murmured. “Try to relax.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. 

I pressed my lips to his forehead, tasting dried sweat. 
“Shh...it ain’t your fault.” Except it was, the unsympathetic 
part of me said. He was a doctor. He should have known better 
than to mess around with addictive drugs. Then I looked at the 
quivering, miserable man in my arms and the anger faded. The 
damage was already done. Getting angry at Jack wouldn’t fix 
him. And at that moment he looked so goddamned vulnerable that 
the bigger part of me just wanted to protect him and somehow 
make the pain go away. Problem was, I couldn’t do much more 
than hold him and watch him suffer through the withdrawal and 
it made me feel helpless.

“Your shirt,” he continued.

I had lost my shirt hours ago after failing to move out of 
range fast enough. His had followed soon after. “S’okay. It’ll 
wash.” I rubbed his back firmly and he whined and curled 
tighter against me.

“Talk to me.”

“What?”

“Take my mind off it. Distraction...” He trailed off as a dry 
heave shook him again, making him tremble.

I sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “What d’ya want me to 
talk about?”

“How ‘bout why you call y’rself Sawyer,” he said after a while.

I hesitated. “’S my name.”

“But it wasn’t always.”

I sighed again. No use playing dumb. It didn’t really matter 
anymore anyway. “Man who conned my momma called himself Mr. 
Sawyer. My daddy... he killed momma and blew his brains out.” 
Jack went quiet and stared at me with this unnerving blank 
look. “Swore I’d kill the man for what he’d done. Then I 
started connin’.” I ground my teeth a little. “Funny thing 
is... bastard found me first. Turns out he was ol’ baldy’s 
daddy.”

Jack frowned. “Locke?”

“Yeah. He was on the island. Don’t know how long. Maybe the 
whole time... livin’ with the Others.”

Jack stared at me, his face blank again. “Did you kill him?”

I hesitated. I wasn’t proud of what I’d done, but I didn’t 
regret it. The world was better off without that bastard in it. 
Hell, it might be better off without me in it too, but I wasn’t 
about to kill myself. At least I’d been making an honest living 
since the island...sort of. I wasn’t sure Saint Jack could 
forgive me for all of my past sins though. 

“Yeah,” I said quietly.

He nodded and suddenly lurched out of my arms, leaning over the 
toilet, his whole body heaving. There wasn’t anything left in 
his stomach though – including bile – so he just ended up 
whimpering in pain.

I sat up behind him, folding myself around him and nuzzling the 
back of his neck. “Shh...easy darlin’.”

He took deep, gasping breaths, his body trembling as he fought 
the nausea. I held him steady with one arm and reached for a 
wad of toilet paper, folding it into his hand. He mumbled a 
‘thank you’ and wiped his mouth shakily. He tossed the wad into 
the bowl and sighed, pressing his forehead to the cool wooden 
seat.

“I tried to kill Locke,” he mumbled. “I pointed a gun in his 
face and pulled the trigger.”

I frowned. “I know. I was there.”

“I almost killed Ben too. I kept him alive because I needed 
him.”

He went silent for a minute. 

“What’re you tryin’ to say?”

He sighed and sat back, leaning against me tiredly. “We’re 
really no different.”

The meaning of the words sunk in slowly and I winced. “No. 
You’re better.”

He looked up at me, his eyes unnaturally bright in the dull 
bathroom light. “You’re not a killer,” he said confidently. “No 
matter what happened before. It doesn’t matter...who we were. 
All that matters is who we are.” He closed his eyes, as if 
those words brought back painful memories. I didn’t dare ask.

I tightened my grip on him and pressed my cheek to his 
forehead. Why someone like him would want to stay with a guy 
like me, I didn’t know. I sure as hell didn’t deserve him. But 
for the time being, he needed me. And I was going to get him 
through this rough patch if it killed me.

“You wanna try some o’ that Ginger Ale now,” I asked, my voice 
tight. 

He shivered a little and sighed. “Yeah, okay.”

********

I can usually read anywhere, no matter what is going on around 
me. But that night, with Jack tossing and turning on the bed 
next to me, I was finding it damn near impossible to 
concentrate.

I sighed and tossed the book on the nightstand after the third 
try reading the same paragraph. “What?”

“I can’t sleep,” Jack mumbled, his increasingly nasal voice 
muffled by the pillow his face was half-buried in.

“No kiddin’. What d’you need?”

He sighed and looked up at me tiredly. “I don’t know.”

I ran my hand over his trembling one and then over his 
shoulder, feeling the muscles hard with tension under the skin. 
“Roll over,” I ordered, turning to reach for the oil I’d put in 
the drawer by the bed after my last errand run.

He groaned. “No, I don’t...”

“Just trust me, Doc.” I squirted oil on my palm and rubbed my 
hands together. I thought I saw a flicker of disappointment in 
his eyes when he realized what I wanted to do but it was gone 
too fast. He rolled onto his stomach and I straddled his hips. 
He whimpered quietly as I started digging into his shoulders.

“Too much?”

“No...it’s okay.”

I lightened my touch a little and worked across his shoulders 
and up his neck, digging my thumbs into the muscles on either 
side of his spine.

He moaned as the knots slowly began to loosen. “Where’d you 
learn to do this?”

“Dated a masseuse once.” Dated wasn’t really an accurate 
description. We’d fucked a few times. But she taught me a few 
tricks. “Good?”

“Yeah,” Jack breathed.

I worked across his shoulders and down his arms. “Just close 
your eyes and...” And what? Picture a nice, relaxing beach? 
“...think about puppies and rainbows or somethin’,” I finished.

He giggled. I decided I loved that sound and vowed to get him 
to make it more often.

I shrugged even though he couldn’t really see it from his 
angle. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He sighed and closed his eyes. They still moved 
restlessly behind the lids.

“Just try to relax.”

It wasn’t long before his breathing grew heavier, his moans and 
sighs of pleasure deeper and more sensual.

I leaned low over him, digging my palms into his back. “You 
want me to stop?”

“Fuck no,” he muttered.

I kept working my way down his back and he kept making those 
noises that went straight to my cock until I knew he had to 
feel it digging into his ass. I pushed the waistband on his 
pants down a little so I could work on his lower back and he 
shuddered, his hips twitching. I ignored it and kept massaging, 
digging into the tightly corded muscles and coaxing them into 
relaxing. Then his hips very deliberately thrust into the 
mattress.

I hesitated, but before I could ask again if he was sure he 
moaned and begged “please, don’t stop.”

I started rubbing again, a smile tugging at my lips. “You 
hard?”

He whimpered softly and nodded.

“You want me to take care of it?”

He hesitated, then nodded again. 

I smiled. “Okay, baby. Just relax...” I climbed off him and 
stripped his sweatpants off entirely, pressing him back down 
with a firm hand when he tried to turn over. “Stay there.”

He grumbled under his breath, but settled again without a 
fight, even letting me position a pillow under his hips.

I coaxed his legs to spread wide and settled between them, 
continuing to massage up and down his thighs and across his 
ass. I leaned forward to press a kiss to the back of his neck 
and then trailed my tongue down his back, the artificial mint 
flavor of the lube stinging my nose a little. I paid special 
attention to the dip in his lower back, loving the helpless 
little noises he was making.

“Please,” he whimpered, so quietly I doubted he was even aware 
of it.

I spread him open with my hands and leaned back, watching the 
small opening quiver in anticipation. His breath caught and I 
looked up to find him clutching the rumpled sheets tightly, his 
eyes screwed shut like he was bracing himself for something. I 
rubbed the sensitive skin underneath the opening gently until 
he started making those helpless noises again.

“Relax. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

He breathed deeply and I felt him relax a little, his muscles 
starting to loosen. “It’s not that, I...” He broke off with a 
gasp as I swiped my tongue over the tight little hole. I 
watched, fascinated, as it twitched and pulsed, begging for 
more attention even if the rest of Jack’s body squirmed 
uneasily, likely torn between desire and a sense that wanting 
this was somehow wrong. 

I didn’t give him a chance to protest. I just held his hips 
firmly and plunged inside.

He cried out and writhed against my grip as I gently worked him 
open. Then he started babbling things that damn near made me 
bite my tongue in surprise. Not that I hadn’t heard them 
before, mind. I just never would’ve guessed *Jack* capable of 
saying them. He told me, in graphic detail, just how good my 
tongue felt in his ass and begged me for more. He begged me to 
hurry up and fuck him – to shove my cock deep inside him. ‘Make 
me take it,’ he pleaded. ‘Make me feel it. Make it *hurt*.’

The last part made me wince a little. He didn’t need any more 
pain and I certainly didn’t want to inflict it on him. But that 
didn’t stop the wave of lust from washing over me at his words 
– making me feel too hot as the blood rushed to my cock. I 
groaned. At this rate, I wouldn’t last very long.

I pulled back and forced myself to calm down a bit. I couldn’t 
resist running my tongue around the rim of the loosened opening 
a couple more times. The little whimpering noises he made in 
response were intoxicating.

“Roll over,” I ordered, reaching for the lube and a condom from 
the nightstand, mentally congratulating myself for remembering 
to restock.

He didn’t move.

I got up to remove my shorts and swatted him lightly on the 
ass. “C’mon.”

He gripped the sheets tightly and shook his head. The cloud of 
lust surrounding me lifted a little and I noticed the damp spot 
on the sheet under his cheek. I rolled my eyes and grabbed a 
wad of tissues, shoving them into his hand. “Here. Now roll 
over so I can fuck you proper.”

He blew his nose and coughed a few times before slowly turning 
onto his back, tossing the wad toward the trash can and looking 
up at me almost shyly.

I sighed and bent to kiss him. It was sort of like kissing a 
person with a mild cold, but he still tasted a damn slight 
better now that he was keeping food down. I was sure I would 
have avoided kissing anyone else on the mouth under these 
conditions, but for some reason when it was Jack it didn’t 
bother me. I’d meant what I said. He could literally piss on me 
and I would still want him. “I told you that don’t matter to 
me, Doc. Just relax.” 

I sat back between his spread legs and took a minute to admire 
the view. His skin was flushed and he shivered slightly – from 
cold or the drug withdrawal or my eyes on him or some 
combination of the three I wasn’t sure. I traced my eyes along 
the light trail of hair from his chest down his flat stomach 
and held back a frown when they came to his cock, resting only 
half-hard against his abdomen. He might think he wanted this, 
but his body didn’t seem so sure. I ran a finger lightly along 
the vein in the underside and he whimpered.

“Please. Just fuck me.”

I sighed and reached for the lube, squirting a generous amount 
over my fingers. Then I bent over him and kissed him, licking 
along the inside of his lips and massaging his tongue with mine 
until he started making impatient noises. I slipped one finger 
inside him, finding his prostate a lot quicker this time around 
and rubbing in small circles. 

I abandoned the kiss so I could look into his slightly 
unfocused eyes as I asked “Why do you want this, Jack?”

He blinked and stared at me like he couldn’t quite understand 
what I was asking. “What?”

“You want me to hurt you? You think you need ta be punished for 
somethin’?”

He bit his lip and shook his head slightly – like maybe he did 
but wasn’t up to admitting it.

“You think you owe me this? That I’m just gonna get off and 
call it even?”

He didn’t answer. Just stared at me expectantly. 

I slipped a second finger inside and began gently stretching 
him. “’cause what *I* really want,” I murmured, pressing a 
trail of soft kisses down his neck and across his shoulder. “Is 
to make love to ya nice and slow. Get you nice and worked up 
‘til you can’t think ‘bout nothin’ but how fuckin’ good it 
feels and how bad you wanna come.” I traced the lines of one of 
the brightly colored stars near his elbow with my tongue and 
felt the skin quiver. 

His hips twitched, encouraging my attention. I smiled and 
worked my way back up his arm, nibbling lightly. 

“Wanna take you to the edge and back – get you moanin’ and 
beggin’ me to finish you off.” I licked one nipple until it 
grew nice and hard, then bit down hard enough to make him gasp. 
I soothed the bite with my tongue and moved over to give the 
other one the same treatment. I slipped a third finger inside 
him and started thrusting, dragging over his prostate on every 
back stroke. “I wanna make you fall apart...make you scream.” I 
punctuated every other word or so with a lick to his abdomen, 
occasionally dipping my tongue into his navel. “And then...when 
you can’t move no more...I wanna suck that thick cock o’ yours 
‘til you come all over again.”

He trembled and gave a sharp thrust, trying to take my fingers 
deeper inside him. “Jesus...just do it. Please.”

He was still only half hard. I would just have to hope I could 
hold out long enough to do even half of what I said. I pulled 
my fingers free, ignoring his whine of protest, and reached for 
the condom, forcing my hands to stop shaking as I pulled it on 
and tried to cover myself in lube with minimal touching.

He watched me, sniffling a little, his eyes dark. He spread his 
legs hesitantly and moaned when I spread them wider and settled 
between them. His body and mind clearly couldn’t agree on 
whether he wanted it or not. I closed my eyes and took deep 
breaths, calming myself further. I would treat him more or less 
the way I would treat a nervous virgin.

I pushed inside him gently, resisting the urge to pound into 
him when his tight body clenched around me and tried to draw me 
deeper, focusing on opening him up slowly, letting him adjust. 
He whimpered and tried to thrust up to meet me, but my grip on 
his hips prevented him from getting far. I made a couple 
shallow thrusts, inching my way in and trying to find the right 
angle. I knew I’d found it when he gasped and his cock twitched 
against his abdomen.

I pulled back and tried to repeat the movement. His eyes locked 
on mine and he grabbed my wrists, his nails digging tiny half-
moons in my skin. He moaned low in his throat, the sound needy 
and helpless.

“Sawyer,” he gasped. “Please...” His back arched and he writhed 
as I pressed deeper, dragging against that spot until he 
practically vibrated beneath me. 

I forced myself to stop when I could go no further and leaned 
over him, letting go of his hips in favor of his hands, 
pressing them back into the mattress. He wrapped his legs 
around my waist tightly but my weight kept him from thrusting. 
He writhed as best he could and made small noises of distress.

“Hold still a minute,” I muttered. 

He stilled and shot me a frustrated look. I kissed him gently.

“Just...relax,” I said, straining to make my voice sound less 
pleading. It would be difficult enough for me to draw this out 
without him fighting me. “Trust me. Let me make you feel good.” 
I rocked gently inside him and he hissed, his hands tightening 
in mine. “You feel that?”

He nodded and sniffled lightly.

I rolled my hips again, aiming a little higher, and felt his 
legs tense around me. “How’s it feel?”

He moaned and arched his neck invitingly, his eyes slipping 
shut. “Good...full.”

I snorted. “You always this articulate in bed?”

He blinked up at me, confused.

“Never mind,” I muttered.

He closed his eyes again and I forced myself to stop moving, my 
body screaming at me in protest. 

“Look at me,” I panted.

Jack whimpered and forced his eyes open to meet mine.

I started moving again, slow, grinding thrusts, my eyes locked 
on his. “Want you with me,” I gasped. “Want you rememberin’ who 
you’re with.”

He nodded and tugged against my grip on his hands.

I hesitated, but something about the look in his eyes told me 
he wasn’t fighting me anymore. I let go, bracing myself more 
firmly on my elbows. 

His hands were in my hair instantly, fingers twisting through 
strands, pulling it back from my face and dragging me closer.

“God, you feel so good,” I whispered between sloppy kisses.

He whimpered and his hands slid down my neck and chest, leaving 
a trail of heat. They slipped around to my back, fingers 
digging into my shoulders hard enough to make me wince. 
“Please,” he gasped.

A surge of desire spiked through me and I groaned, forcing 
myself to resist the impulse to speed up, to come. I thrust 
harder, edging upward, making him writhe and try to impale 
himself further on my cock. “Please what,” I panted.

Dark, lust filled eyes met mine and he whimpered again.

I nipped at his lips. “You gonna come for me?”

His grip tightened and he pushed his hips up to meet mine, but 
he shook his head a little. “I can’t...”

I pushed harder, speeding up as much as I dared, my cock so 
damn hard it *hurt*. I shifted my weight so I could reach my 
left hand between us. I vaguely registered relief as it wrapped 
around his now fully hard cock. “With me.”

He shook his head again and clung tighter to me. “Please...I 
can’t.”

“Yes, you can baby. Just let it happen.”

His gaze slid away and he let go of my shoulders in favor of 
clawing at the sheets.

The last of my control slipped away and I lurched upward, 
grabbing his hips so tightly I had to be bruising the skin and 
pounding into him mercilessly.

He cried out and writhed and I vaguely felt his legs tighten 
around me before everything blurred and I was coming, shooting 
off powerfully inside him and distantly hearing my own voice 
shouting as the white heat overwhelmed me.

Somehow I managed to stay upright. I shook my hair from my eyes 
and looked down at him. He was still breathing hard, his cock 
was still iron-hard and purple and he still wasn’t looking at 
me. I blew out a weary breath and wrapped my hand around his 
cock.

He lashed out suddenly, knocking my hand away. “Don’t!” He 
scrambled backward, away from me. I shivered as my softening 
wet dick slipped free into the cool air.

He sat curled against the headboard with his knees pulled up 
protectively, his hands clenched in fists at his sides. His 
eyes were closed tightly.

“Did I hurt you?” I berated myself for letting it get so far – 
for letting myself lose control.

“No.” His voice was small, barely above a whisper.

I edged closer and brushed his hand tentatively with my 
fingertips. “Then what’s wrong?”

He shook his head. He didn’t pull his hand away, but he also 
didn’t open his eyes. “I can’t...it’s too much.”

I felt my shoulders sag in relief. I hadn’t hurt him. “You’re 
overstimulated.”

He shook his head stubbornly. “I just can’t do this...”

“Hey.” I scooted closer and cradled his face gently, forcing 
him to look at me. “Settle down. It’s okay.” I kissed him 
softly. “I shouldn’t’ve pushed you.”

He groaned, the sound strained with frustration and discomfort. 
“You didn’t.”

I traced a pained line near the corner of his lips with my 
thumb and kissed him again. “I’ll get you some water. Lay down. 
Try to relax.”

He nodded gratefully and scooted down the bed, his movements 
stiff and uncomfortable looking. 

I left him to get a glass of water and hurried back to find him 
half curled on his side, face pressed into a pillow, one hand 
between his legs, fingers pinching the head of his cock like he 
was trying to force his erection down.

“Hey, quit that ‘fore you hurt yourself.” I pulled his hand 
away by the wrist and he made an annoyed noise, glaring up at 
me half-heartedly. I pressed the glass into his hand and he 
clutched it with quivering fingers, propping himself up on his 
elbow to drink.

He downed most of the glass before handing it back to me. I set 
it on the nightstand without looking and cupped his chin in my 
other hand, covering his lips in a gentle kiss. He whimpered 
but didn’t put up any resistance.

“What’dya need me to do,” I whispered.

He made a noise like a frustrated sob and laid back down, 
curing almost into a fetal position.

“Hey now, quit that. C’mon...” I coaxed him to roll onto his 
back and tried to make him comfortable. “You just gotta relax 
now. Let me take care o’ ya.”

He groaned but didn’t fight me as I knelt between his legs. I 
rubbed his thighs gently, nudging them further apart, giving 
myself an unobstructed view of his cock – which was now an 
angry purplish-red – and his stretched, wet opening.

“Don’t...”

I kept rubbing circles on his thighs with my thumbs, staying a 
safe distance from his cock. “Don’t what,” I asked quietly.

His mouth opened and closed and then he groaned and closed his 
eyes, his head falling back on the pillow.

“Relax, baby,” I soothed, reaching to smooth gentle circles on 
his abdomen, feeling the muscles tremble beneath my hand. “Quit 
thinkin’ so much and just...let go.” I bent lower and lapped 
delicately at the tip of his cock, swiping away the drop of 
moisture beaded there. He cried out and arched his back, his 
hips thrusting toward me and, a moment later, pulling away. 

I grabbed his hips firmly, holding him steady. “Shh...quit 
fightin’ it.”

He whimpered and his hands fisted in the sheets at his sides as 
I took the swollen head in my mouth and sucked gently.

I flicked the indentation on the underside and he gasped, his 
hips twitching in my grip, his cock pulsing. I hummed at the 
taste of him, dripping on my tongue. It was sharp – bitter – 
but it was honest and it was entirely Jack.

I took him deep in my mouth until I felt him hit the back of my 
throat, breathing deeply and steadily through my nose to 
suppress my gag reflex.

He let out a loud, incoherent moan and tangled his fingers in 
my hair, pushing it back from my face.

I looked up at him through my eye lashes as I pulled back, 
swirling my tongue around the head again. ‘Come for me,’ I 
tried to say with my eyes before breaking contact to take him 
deep again.

His fingers tensed and his thighs quivered, opening and closing 
slightly, trying alternately to get away and open himself 
further to me.

I let go of his hips, relieved when he didn’t try to buck 
wildly, and reached to cradle his balls, massaging gently, 
coaxing him along. I let my other hand smooth over his abdomen, 
pressing down lightly over the rippling muscles.

“Please,” he whimpered as I sucked gently on the head again. 
“More. I can’t...please...”

I pushed two fingers inside him, finding his prostate easily 
and pressing firmly against it, letting the heal of my hand 
crush his balls up against his body and took him all the way 
into my throat, humming lightly.

He cried out, the sound more relief than pleasure – and I felt 
him shoot down my throat. I eased him through it, sucking 
gently and slowly drawing my hand back. After about a minute, 
though, his fingers – which had gone slack – tightened in my 
hair, trying clumsily to pull me off him. “Stop...”

I pulled back immediately and sat up, watching him come back 
down. His chest heaved erratically and he threw his arm up over 
his eyes with a small groan. The sweat covering his skin made 
the stars in his tattoo sparkle a little in the bedroom light. 
I resisted to urge to lick those shining stars. Obviously he 
couldn’t tolerate much more touching.

When his breathing had steadied a little, I rested my hand 
carefully on his abdomen. He flinched but I didn’t pull away. 
“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he breathed without looking at me.

I waited a minute longer before moving to get up – intent on 
getting something to clean the worst of the sticky mess from 
our bodies. His hand shot out suddenly, grabbing my wrist. I 
looked down into his now uncovered eyes to find them full of 
confusion and need.

“Just gettin’ somethin’ to wash us up,” I explained, pulling my 
wrist from his grip gently. “I’ll be right back.”

He nodded slowly and closed his eyes, sinking back into the 
bed.

I wet a new washcloth and returned within a minute. He hissed 
uncomfortably when I ran the cloth over his swollen opening, so 
I called it good enough and cleaned myself off a little before 
tossing the dirtied cloth aside.

I lay on the bed facing him, a safe distance from touching him, 
not sure he would accept my touch at the moment.

His eyes opened and he stared at me for a moment before 
silently reaching for my hand and replacing it where it had 
been – resting flat on his stomach. I didn’t move. I realized 
he didn’t really want me touching him, necessarily. He just 
wanted that warm weight reassuring him that I was there and he 
was safe.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

I smiled. “Anytime darlin’.”

His hand rested over mine and within minutes he drifted into an 
uneasy sleep.

********

I sat next to the bathtub, leaning over awkwardly so I could 
support Jack’s head on my arm. A cramp was forming in my lower 
back, but I didn’t dare move – afraid to wake Jack from the 
first sleep he’d gotten in 24 hours. The warm water had finally 
eased his increasing pain. I cursed myself for not calling the 
hospital in spite of Jack’s objections. Maybe I could have 
convinced a sympathetic doctor to prescribe something to help 
Jack through the worst of the symptoms. Maybe I could have 
gotten a nurse to help me watch him so I could get more than a 
couple hours of sleep. I had slept more than him, but I was 
still running on coffee.

His breathing changed and he snapped awake suddenly, bleary, 
unfocused eyes darting around wildly. 

I caught his chin in my free hand and turned his face toward 
me. “I’m right here, darlin’.”

“Sawyer?” His voice was scratchy and warbling.

I adjusted my grip, relieving the ache in my back, and reached 
for the washcloth. “Yeah, it’s me. You’re safe.” I wiped the 
remnants of sweat, drool and who knew what else from his face.

“Don’t,” he snapped, swatting at my hand. I was sure he meant 
it to sound more intimidating, but it came out as a weak whine.

I sighed and dropped the cloth, catching his hand in mine. 
“Okay. Calm down.”

He grunted and closed his eyes. His hand trembled in my grip.

“You cold?”

He made a non-committal noise.

I sighed. “Yeah, well...should pro’ly get you back to bed.” I 
let go of his pruning hand to pull the drain plug. “Sit up.”

He sat up obediently and I pulled my arm free from behind him, 
pumping my fist a few times to get the blood flowing again. I 
dug out a clean towel and turned back to find him folded in 
half in the draining tub, his head resting on his knees. My 
irritation with his stubborn behavior melted a little and I 
reached for his arm, tugging gently. “C’mon. Stand up.”

He dragged himself tiredly to his feet and leaned against me to 
balance as he stepped out onto the tile. He stood placidly 
while I dried him and pulled sweats on him like a living doll. 
Then he let me lead him out to the bedroom and onto the bed 
piled with every pillow I could find in the house to cushion 
his aching body.

I handed him the glass of water I’d left by the bed and 
steadied his hands while he drank. ‘To counteract the 
dehydrating effect of the salt,’ he’d said back when he’d been 
more coherent.

He drank a little over half the glass and pushed it back toward 
me, sagging into the pillows while I put it on the nightstand.

I sat beside him and ran my fingers over his short hair – the 
only place he seemed able to bear me touching in the past day. 
“You want some tea?”

“No,” he grumbled.

If I’d been less exhausted I might’ve insisted he have some 
anyway for his own good, but I wasn’t and I didn’t. I just 
crawled over to my side of the bed and took up my usual 
position as close as I could get to him without actually 
touching him. Maybe I’d get lucky and he’d be tired enough to 
sleep even without the Chamomile – giving me a couple hours of 
sleep too.

“Sawyer,” he called softly.

“Yeah,” I mumbled.

“Where are we?”

I lifted my head and frowned at him. “What?”

His bloodshot eyes swept the room lazily and resettled on me. 
“Where are we?”

“You’re in my bedroom, Jack. You don’t remember?”

From the look in his eyes it was obvious he didn’t really. “Oh. 
Yeah.”

Some half-alert part of my brain realized that this sort of 
disorientation was probably inevitable once a person went 
without sleep for as long as he had. He just needed to rest.

I reached for his hand, squeezing it reassuringly – though I 
wasn’t sure which of us I was trying to reassure more. “It’s 
okay. You’re safe. Try to get some sleep.”

********

I was startled awake by the sound of the house alarm going off.

‘What now,’ I thought blearily as I stumbled out of bed, taking 
a moment to jam my shoes on in case I needed to chase Jack 
across the lawn.

The front door was cracked open but the chain lock was still 
engaged. Obviously Jack hadn’t left that way. I shut the door 
and disarmed the system. A muffled bang came from the kitchen. 
I took a deep breath and followed the sound.

“Jack? You okay?”

I stepped into the kitchen and froze. He was crouched in the 
corner, one of my largest knives clutched in his hand.

“Stay away from me,” he snapped, waving the knife in front of 
him.

“What’s goin’ on,” I asked warily.

“Just...stay over there!” He winced and rubbed at his temple. 
“What did you people do to me?”

“You people? Jack, it’s just me...” I took an unconscious step 
forward and he stiffened. 

“Stay back!”

I froze, holding my hands out in front of me in a way that I 
hoped was as unthreatening as possible. “What’s goin’ on, 
Jack?”

“Where are Kate and Sawyer?”

I gaped at him as the words sunk in. ‘He’s getting worse’. 
“I’m right here, Jack.”

His jaw clenched and his eyes glinted crazily in the faint 
light just starting to come through the window. “You’re lying. 
Who are you? Are you with the Dharma Initiative? What do you 
want with us?”

His words finally registered in my half-asleep mind and I 
suppressed a shudder. He wasn’t just hallucinating – he was 
reliving a memory. He thought I was one of the Others.

“Tell me where my friends are,” he shouted, waving the knife 
impatiently.

I knew instinctively that the only way I would get through to 
him was to entertain the delusion his drug-damaged mind was 
creating. I stopped moving toward him and dropped my hands. 
“I’m here, Doc.”

His eyes narrowed. “Sawyer?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

He hesitated, frowning, and I held my breath. I had not seen 
him the entire time we were held captive on Alcatraz. If he 
remembered that this could all go very badly.

“It took a lot of naggin’, but I convinced ‘em to let me see 
you,” I added hopefully. 

He relaxed a little, lowering the knife a bit. “Where’s Kate?”

I took another step closer and was relieved when he didn’t move 
to threaten me again. “They’re keepin’ us in cages outside. 
She’s a bit shaken, but they ain’t hurt her.”

I said a little mental prayer of thanks when he finally put the 
knife down and reached for me. 

I sat on the floor beside him, subtly shoving the knife out of 
his reach. He started running his hands all over me, looking 
worried, checking for injuries. Always the doctor, even in his 
delusions.

I caught his hands and held them firmly. “I’m fine, Doc. Quit 
worryin’.”

“I heard you on the intercom,” he argued. “You were screaming. 
What did they do to you?”

It took a moment for me to figure out what he was talking 
about. The pacemaker. I winced. Bastards must’ve scared the 
hell out of him with that. “It was nothin’. They just tried to 
scare me out of escapin’. I’m all right.”

The look in his eyes told me he didn’t believe that, but he let 
it go. “What do they want?”

I sat on the floor next to him, leaning against the wall, close 
enough to feel the unnatural heat coming from his body. Fever. 
Great. “Hell if I know.” A sudden, horrible thought occurred to 
me and I turned my head to look at him. “What about you,” I 
asked, trying to sound casual. “They hurt you?”

He shook his head and I relaxed. “We have to get out of here.”

“How?” I wasn’t sure if he knew the place we had been held 
wasn’t on the island and I didn’t particularly want to find out 
what would happen if I told him something that didn’t match his 
memory. Hell, I was probably taking him down the rabbit hole 
already. I hoped I wouldn’t have to check him into that psych 
ward with Hugo.

He sighed and slumped against the wall. “I don’t know. I’ll 
think of something.”

‘Something crazy and suicidal, I bet,’ I thought tiredly.

“They want me to do surgery on Ben,” he said quietly.

“Yeah? Well, fuck ‘em.”

“Kate said they’ll kill you if I don’t do it.”

I frowned. Didn’t he just ask where Kate was? I decided to go 
with it. “My life ain’t worth savin’, Doc.”

“I’m not letting you die,” he said stubbornly. “Not if I can 
prevent it.”

I looked over at his slightly wild, determined eyes and it 
suddenly hit me just how many times he’d saved my sorry ass 
since we met. I had tried to resist and point blank asked him 
to let me die, but he’d saved me anyway. I leaned over 
impulsively and kissed him.

He looked dazed when I pulled back. “What...”

I cupped his chin and stroked his cheek with my thumb. “I’ve 
been wantin’ to do that for a long time, Doc.” Even then that 
was true, I realized.

He stared at me, confused, for a good minute. Then the next 
thing I knew, he had shoved me back against the wall and 
straddled my lap, kissing me so desperately hard I was sure I 
could taste blood.

“Jack, what,” I gasped when he let me up for air.

“Shut up,” he grunted and he kissed me again, clenching his 
hands painfully tight in my hair.

He ground his hips down into me, creating maddening friction 
against my cock. I grunted and tried to still his movements 
with my hands.

“We can’t do this here,” I gasped when he let up again.

“Why not,” he gasped, bucking against my restraining grip.

I tried frantically to think of a good reason – which was hard 
as he started tonguing my ear, biting on the lobe. The Others’d 
had cameras on the cages...they must’ve had a camera on Jack 
too. “They’re watchin’.”

He stopped moving and sat back, glancing off at some spot in 
the corner and then looking me in the eye. “What d’you care?”

“I don’t,” I said quickly. “But I figure you ain’t the 
exhibitionist type.”

He shocked the hell out of me by resuming his efforts, bucking 
in my lax grip and nibbling at my neck. “There’s a lot you 
don’t know about me,” he murmured.

Damned if the suggestion – combined with the way he was rubbing 
against me like a cat in heat – didn’t get me rock hard. I 
groaned and grasped for what little self-control I had left. 
“There’s a bed in the next room,” I blurted.

He stopped again. “What?”

“Bed,” I repeated. “Next door. Ain’t any cameras in there. I 
checked.”

He frowned and for a second I was afraid he would decide this 
was a trick after all and lunge for the knife.

I rubbed his cheek gently with my knuckles. “’f we’re gonna do 
this, I wanna do it right.”

He nodded and scrambled from my lap, letting me stand. I helped 
him up and guided him back toward the bedroom. I had no idea 
how far this was going to go but at least he was 
cooperating...and moving away from all the sharp weapons.

I shoved him on his back on the bed and crawled over him, 
resuming the bruising kiss. He grabbed fistfuls of my hair and 
tilted his head, opening his mouth for my tongue, tangling it 
with his own. He wrapped his legs around me and I thrust down 
into him. Maybe I could just get him off like this, I thought 
vaguely, though it seemed highly unlikely. He moaned and bit 
down on my lip, his hips thrusting back up against me.

He broke the kiss with a groan, his head falling back on the 
bed, hands going to my ass, encouraging my movements. “So hot,” 
he mumbled.

“Yeah,” I agreed, not really listening. 

“No,” he groaned. “It’s really hot...”

I pried my lips from his neck and looked down at him. His eyes 
were glassy and unfocused and he was far too pale for a man in 
the middle of heated foreplay. “Jack?”

“Think ‘m gonna be sick,” he muttered.

I leaped from the bed without another word and dragged him into 
the bathroom. He stumbled and collapsed next to the toilet, 
heaving nothing but stomach acid and water since his last meal 
had been long digested. He let out a low, helpless whine of 
pain as his body tried to force out what wasn’t there anyway.

I turned on the water in the shower, adjusting the controls 
until it was barely above room temperature. Then I hooked my 
arms under his and lifted him up, hauling him into the shower 
with a strength that surprised even me. I didn’t even stop to 
take his clothes or my boxers off – I just shoved him under the 
spray and held him there.

He yelped and thrashed weakly. I held him tight, arms wrapped 
around his chest, and murmured in his ear. “It’s okay, Jack. 
Y’re all right. I’ve gotcha.”

He moaned and went limp in my arms. “Sawyer,” he croaked.

“Right here, baby.” I pressed my lips to his temple and tried 
to calm my pounding heart. I was sure I had never felt so 
scared shitless as I did in that moment. The sickness and body 
fluids I could handle, but that look in his eyes in the 
kitchen...I shivered. 

“Sawyer...where...”

“Shh...just tryin’ to cool you down, darlin’. It’s all right.”

He went quiet.

I finally calmed enough to remember that we were both still at 
least partly dressed and I nudged him lightly. “Whaddya say we 
get these wet clothes off?”

He didn’t reply, but managed to stand on his own and let me 
peel the t-shirt and sweatpants off without protest. He turned 
and sagged against me again, arms loosely wrapped around my 
waist, head falling onto my shoulder, face buried in my neck. I 
held him tightly and continued babbling nonsense that I hoped 
was soothing. 

“Sawyer?” His voice was so soft and small that I barely heard 
it over the spraying water.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Shut up.”

I chuckled, the tension flowing out of me. “Welcome back, 
darlin’. You scared the hell outta me, y’know.”

He sighed. “What happened?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” I kissed his cheek and reached one hand 
to his forehead. Still kind of warm. “Just stay with me now. I 
ain’t carryin’ you back to bed.”

He hummed vaguely.

I stood with him quietly under the running water until he 
started shivering. 
I helped him out of the tub and dried him off. I peeled off my 
wet boxers and wrapped the towel around my waist.

“Let’s get you some dry clothes,” I said, reaching for him.

He didn’t hear me. He was staring at his right hand like he was 
suddenly remembering something, flexing and rotating it, 
gripping empty air. “I had a knife,” he said slowly.

I grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the bedroom. “Don’t 
worry about it.”

He pulled back, spinning me around, his eyes boring into mine. 
“I thought you were someone else. I could’ve killed you!”

I reached to cradle his face in my hands. “You didn’t. It’s 
okay.”

“What if it happened again? What if you can’t get through to 
me?” His eyes were getting a crazy, wild look of fear and I 
wondered if he could give himself a stroke worrying about what 
he might do in the middle of a withdrawal hallucination. 

“Shh...I’ll hide all the knives, darlin’. It’ll be fine.”

“That’s not good enough. I could use anything sharp. Glass. A 
broken plate.” He gripped my arms so hard I could just about 
feel the bruises threatening. “You have to tie me up. Restrain 
me. At least until the hallucinations go away.”

I pressed my lips together. I had suspected it might come to 
this, but I had hoped to avoid it. Having Jack tied up might 
have appealed to me, but not when he was sick and in pain. And 
what would he think when he started hallucinating again? Would 
he still believe I was a fellow captive or would he see me as 
his cruel kidnapper?

“Please,” Jack begged when I didn’t answer, his eyes growing 
damp. “I don’t want to hurt you. If anything happened...”

“Shh...” I kissed his forehead, cheeks and – gently – his lips. 
“Whatever you need baby,” I forced myself to say, forcing back 
the growing pain in my chest.

His breath hitched and he leaned into my hold, his grip on my 
arms loosening. “I’m sorry.”

“We’ve been through this, Doc. Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry for.”

Jack’s eyes were doubtful, but he nodded, sniffling a little.

*********

I didn’t sleep that night – watching instead as Jack made a 
slow, painful transition into Linda Blair. One minute, he was 
writhing in pain and screaming obscenities at me and the next 
he was crying and begging me to help him. Sometimes he 
recognized me and sometimes he demanded to know what my 
“people” had done to him or asked to see Juliet. The most 
disturbing moment, though, was when he’d looked past me 
completely and started talking to his father. The longer he 
went without sleep, the crazier he became. I tried to stop him 
from hurting himself when he tugged so hard on the restraints 
that he nearly broke a slat in the headboard and he kicked me. 
Ironically, he did, in fact, manage to piss all over me. He had 
laughed at that – the sound so unhinged it gave me chills – and 
called me Ben.

By noon, I was an exhausted, nervous wreck. Not knowing what 
else to do, I called Kate. It took a lot of convincing and some 
outright begging, but I finally got her to agree to watch him 
for a while.

After I hung up, I sat on the edge of the bed, head in my 
hands, telling myself I’d had no choice, when Jack surfaced 
again.

“Sawyer?” His voice was small and hoarse.

“Right here, baby,” I said automatically. I didn’t dare touch 
him – knowing he could lash out or scream in pain even if he 
did recognize me.

He tugged at the chain anchoring him to the headboard. 
“Sawyer...”

I looked over at him, lying on his side facing the other 
direction, naked except for a pair of boxers, his body curling 
protectively inward. He looked small and broken and it made my 
chest hurt in a way I would never have thought possible to see 
him like that. He shivered pathetically.

I tossed the phone onto a pile of clothes and crawled toward 
him, tentatively pressing against his back, drawing the blanket 
back over his bare skin, relaxing when he didn’t fight me. “I’m 
here. It’s okay.” I held him tighter as he trembled.

“Where’s Kate?”

“She’s comin’, sweetheart.”

“No,” he moaned. “They’ll catch her.”

I swallowed a groan. I had no idea where or when he was in his 
mind. Keeping up with his delusions was becoming increasingly 
difficult. “She can take ‘em.” With one hand tied behind her 
back, no doubt, I thought.

He groaned and tugged on the cuffs again.

“Hey, stop that,” I scolded gently. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

He stopped, but I got the feeling it was more out of exhaustion 
than obedience. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“What for, baby?”

“I’m the one they want. They think I can fix him. It’s all my 
fault.”

I was getting too tired to follow his logic. I just held him 
tight, kissed his cheek and muttered things I hoped were 
soothing.

I was still talking when Kate arrived. She let herself in and I 
heard her drop her purse, coat and keys by the door and arm the 
security system like I’d told her. I kept whispering to Jack, 
who didn’t show signs of hearing anything. She hesitated when 
she reached the door, looking unsure. Between the well-worn 
jeans, t-shirt, sloppy hair and lack of make-up, she almost 
looked like she had on the island. It was certainly close 
enough for Jack to buy it in his mental state. She bent to pick 
up the key I’d tossed near the door and slowly crept closer. 

“Jack,” she called softly.

Jack jolted in my arms, his head snapping in her direction. 
“Kate?”

Her smile barely hid a wince. “Hey. I got them to give me the 
keys, but we have to be careful. They’re watching us.”

I sagged with relief as Jack nodded. It had worked.

“What are you doing here,” Jack asked as Kate reached to undo 
the cuffs. 

She glanced at me and I shrugged. There was no telling where he 
was anymore.

“I wanted to see you,” she said, wisely opting for vague 
answers. She got the cuffs undone and Jack reached for her, 
hugging her tightly, desperately.

I slipped carefully from the bed while he was distracted. He 
didn’t notice. I nodded to Kate - ‘Tag, you’re it,’ I thought 
wearily - and made for the door, being sure not to make any 
noise.

“Where’s Sawyer,” I heard him ask innocently as I slipped out 
the door.

********

I was deeply asleep on the bed in the second, unused bedroom 
when I was shaken awake by a loud yell.

“Sawyer,” Kate shouted. The fear in her voice had me wide awake 
in seconds.

I stumbled into my bedroom to find Jack on the floor, sprawled 
awkwardly, Kate hovering over him. 

“What happened?” I dropped down at Jack’s other side and 
searched for his pulse. It took a few seconds to find it and 
while I didn’t know what the hell I was looking for, exactly, I 
was pretty sure it shouldn’t be fluttering like that.

“He had a seizure, I think. He just collapsed and started 
shaking.” Kate’s eyes were wild, her hands fluttering over Jack 
helplessly. “It just stopped, but I can’t wake him up.”

I looked around the room, feeling helpless, and my eyes landed 
on the empty glass on the bedside. “You give ‘im anythin’?” 

“Just some Motrin. He had a headache. It’s all I had...”

I grabbed her wrist. “Get my phone and my keys. They’re in the 
top drawer of my desk. I’ll carry ‘im.”

“Shouldn’t we call 911?”

“We’re too far outta the city. It’ll take too long. Go!”

She hesitated a couple seconds longer and then nearly tripped 
over herself darting from the room.

I must have strained every muscle in my arms and shoulders 
trying to lift him. He may have lost a lot of muscle since the 
island, but he was still a good 200 pounds of dead weight. I 
barely noticed though – I was too busy panicking, pleading with 
him and God equally.

‘Please, don’t die.’

********
(St. Sebastien Hospital)

Somehow, I managed to fall asleep in one of the hard plastic 
chairs hospitals like to torture visitors with. When I woke up, 
I couldn’t do anything but stare at Jack, watching his chest 
rise and fall under the thin sheet and scratchy hospital gown. 
Even though his already bruised wrists were tied to the bars on 
either side of the bed to keep him from hurting himself, he 
looked peaceful. The pain that had had him writhing and 
screaming for two days had succumbed to the drug they were 
feeding into his IV.

I was still watching him when his breathing changed. I sat up 
straighter, putting down the cup of disgusting coffee I’d been 
forcing myself to drink, and searched for some other signal. 
When his fingers twitched I was at the side of the bed without 
even being aware I was moving.

“Jack,” I called softly, brushing his cheek with my fingertips.

His eyes fluttered and he made a small, breathy noise.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re safe. Relax.”

His lips moved and I was pretty sure he was trying to say my 
name.

I grabbed for the water the nurse had left, pouring some into 
the Styrofoam cup and holding the straw to his lips. “Here, 
drink.”

It took a minute to figure out but he managed a couple 
swallows. Then he tried to shift his body and tugged against 
the restraints.

“Shh. Don’t pull. Y’already pulled the IV out once. Don’t want 
your arm torn up any more’n it is.” I winced as I remembered 
the bloody mess hidden beneath the bandages on his left hand.

He stilled and his eyes blinked open. They were glazed from the 
drugs and sleep but the betrayal was obvious as he took in his 
surroundings. His voice, when he finally spoke, was rough and 
thready. “No...” 

I had known it would happen, but it was still hard to see the 
hurt in his face and know I had put it there. ‘I didn’t have a 
choice.’ 

I cupped his cheek and turned his head toward me, catching his 
frantically wandering gaze. “You took a really bad turn, 
sweetheart. You scared the hell outta me. Thought I was gonna 
lose you.” I swallowed as the memory brought the familiar lump 
to my throat. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, his face crumpling, and I knew if it weren’t 
for the drugs keeping him subdued he’d be crying or yelling at 
me already. My chest ached in sympathy. It hurt to see him so 
helpless and defeated.

He tugged weakly against the restraint securing his right wrist 
and twisted his body toward me.

I cradled his face and tried to get him to look at me. “Hey, 
shh...settle down. It’s all right.”

“Please,” he whimpered.

“Whadd’you need, baby?”

His wandering eyes finally met mind and the unguarded, pleading 
look made me want to pull him in my arms and shelter him from 
the world. It took a few moments to realize that that was 
pretty much what he wanted.

I debated for a moment, decided that the nurse couldn’t yell at 
me if what I was doing calmed him and I didn’t care if seeing 
me and Jack as more than friends created some sort of scandal 
with his possibly former co-workers.

“Okay. It’s okay. Calm down,” I babbled as I untied the 
restraint on his right wrist. When it was free he reached for 
me, trying clumsily to grab my arm. I caught his hand and 
helped him roll onto his side a little, squeezing myself onto 
the small bed behind him. He kept his grip on my hand, pulling 
it into his chest. I held him tight, as if I could actually 
take him into my body, and pressed my lips up against his ear.

“I’m here, baby. It’s all right. Just calm down. It’s all 
right.”

I kept babbling nonsense as his breathing steadied, the heart 
rate monitor by the bed slowly climbing back down.

“What happened,” he finally asked, his voice slurring a little. 

“Kate came by to watch you for a while. Make sure you didn’t do 
anythin’ stupid while I got some sleep. You were in pain. You 
asked if she had something for your headache, she gave you what 
she had – something strong she takes for migraines.”

Jack groaned quietly.

“Doctor says it shocked your system, but you’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“It ain’t your fault. You didn’t know what you were doin’. It’s 
my fault. I shouldn’t’a left you. I shoulda told her not to 
give you anythin’ no matter how much you screamed. Not that she 
woulda listened. She can’t stand seein’ you in pain.”

He whimpered softly and his hand tightened in mine.

I nuzzled his neck, careful not to scratch the sensitive skin 
with the stubble I hadn’t had a chance to shave in days.

“Methadone,” he murmured, only a slight questioning in his 
tone.

“Yeah. Pretty low dose, he said, but enough to keep you from 
crashin’ again.”

His breathing hitched and his body trembled and I knew he was 
finally crying.

“Shh...it’s okay. It’s gonna be all right.”

“No,” he moaned. “I fucked up. I fucked it all up.”

“No one blames you, darlin’. After everythin’ you’ve been 
through...you’re only human.”

He let out a tiny sob.

I carefully extracted my hand from his and tilted his chin to 
the side, waiting for his eyes to roll in my direction. “We’re 
gonna get through this,” I said firmly, brushing tears from his 
cheeks. “You’re sick. We’re gonna get you better and you’re 
gonna go back to bein’ your usual pain-in-the-ass self. Okay?”

He blinked and nodded slowly, the teasing tone completely lost 
on him.

“I’m gonna be right beside you the whole way, all right? I 
don’t care what happens, I ain’t leavin’. I love you.” The 
words startled me somewhat. I realized it was the first time I 
had said them out loud and of all the times I could have said 
them this was probably not the best – with him drugged up, 
half-lucid and needier than usual. But I had spent too long 
denying how I felt about him. I had been drawn to him from the 
first time we met. Being separated from him since we got back 
to civilization only made me need him even more – so much that 
it actually *hurt*. And it wasn’t just a sexual attraction. I 
*needed* him by my side. Period.

He mouthed the words back, his throat laboring unsuccessfully 
to actually voice them.

“I know.” I stretched my neck so I could kiss him, wincing as I 
felt the dryness of his lips. I would have to talk to the nurse 
about that the next time I saw her. “Get some sleep. I’ll be 
right here.”

********

“We have to go back.”

I took my eyes off the road for a moment to look at him. The 
doctor had given me nearly a month’s worth of prescriptions and 
lengthy directions for weaning him off them but assured me that 
Jack was down to a manageable level so hallucinations should no 
longer be a problem. Though, if they were I would have to bring 
him back to check for brain damage. “You shittin’ me?”

“He said they would all die if we didn’t come back. Juliet, 
Claire, all the people on the boat...”

“’He’ who?”

Jack stared at his lap. “Ben.”

“Ben...”

“He told me...before he died. He said we all had to go back. 
All seven of us.”

“He say how we’re supposed to do that?”

“No. He just gave me the name of a woman he said would help us 
find a way back.”

My grip tightened on the steering wheel and I resisted the 
impulse to yell. “You’re serious. You actually believe the crap 
that yahoo tells you?”

“It’s not just him.”

“Yeah? Who else?”

Jack hesitated a minute. “My father.”

“Oh, a dead guy. Even better.”

“Just listen to me, Sawyer. Something happened when the island 
moved. Something went wrong. And whatever it is, Ben thinks it 
happened because we left. But more than that, I feel like 
there’s something trying to pull me back – like the island 
isn’t finished with me.”

“Those Ben’s words?”

“No...my father’s. I tried to ignore it...ignore *him*. But no 
matter where I went or how many times I switched medications it 
didn’t go away. He didn’t go away. I started seeing him in my 
dreams. Once he was with Claire. She looked sick and she was 
begging me to come back. She said she needed me...needed my 
help.”

I flinched. Of course his delusions would know the exact right 
thing to say to bring him running back to that hell hole.

“I tried taking flights back and forth. Sydney, Hong Kong, 
Bankok, Tokyo. I thought maybe I’d get lucky and crash. I even 
tried to kill myself, but...the second I tried to jump from the 
bridge that woman crashed her car and started screaming for 
help. I tried to overdose and...well, you showed up before the 
pills even had a chance to dissolve.”

I jammed the clutch a little too hard as I rounded the corner. 
I’d known he was lying when he’d said he hadn’t taken too much, 
but if I’d realized then he was actually trying to kill himself 
I would’ve taken him right to the hospital then and there – 
kicking and screaming if I had to. He was lucky he’d survived. 
Hell, he was lucky I didn’t kill him now for not telling me.

“It’s like it won’t let me die but it doesn’t want me back. Not 
yet anyway. Not alone.”

I pulled up to the old farmhouse and cut the engine, forcing 
myself to stay calm as I turned to him. “Are you listenin’ to 
yourself? The *island* won’t let you die?” 

He looked at me and for the first time in about a week his eyes 
were clear and perfectly sane. “I know it sounds crazy...”

“That’s ‘cause it is!”

He closed his eyes and sighed, leaning back against the 
headrest. “I’ve spent three years in denial. I can’t do it 
anymore.”

I grunted and climbed out of the car, grumbling a bunch of 
curses at Ben, Christian and the world in general all the way 
to the front door, Jack stumbling along behind me.

“I gotta use the can,” I muttered the second I crossed the 
threshold, letting him shut the door behind him. “Try not to 
get into the knives while I’m gone.”

I stared at myself in the mirror above the sink when I’d 
finished, wondering what the hell I had gotten myself into, 
when he knocked on the door.

“What?”

He slipped into the room and met my eyes in the mirror. “I’m 
sorry. I didn’t want to upset you.”

I snorted, shaking my head. “I just found out you damn near 
OD’d in my arms out by the airport and I waited until you 
fuckin’ *crashed* from withdrawal before takin’ you to the 
hospital. How’d you think I’d feel?”

His eyes slid away and he stepped tentatively toward me, 
wrapping his arms around my waist from behind and pressing his 
cheek to my shoulder. “I thought I was alone. Please. I’ve 
already lost my friends...my family...I can’t lose you too.”

I sighed and rested one hand on his arm. “Y’ain’t gonna lose 
me. But if you even think about offin’ yourself again...”

“I won’t,” he interrupted. 

I turned slowly in his arms and cupped his chin, tilting his 
head back up so our eyes met directly. The desperation and need 
practically radiated from him. I stared for a minute longer 
until I was sure he wasn’t hiding anything else. Then I kissed 
him, pulling his lower lip into my mouth and sucking lightly.

He made a tiny whimpering noise, his hands clutching me 
tighter, letting me control the kiss. I kept it light and 
teasing until his whimpering became more pronounced. I slowly 
pushed deeper, exploring every inch of his mouth until he was 
gasping against my lips, breathless.

I pulled back a moment and groaned. His eyes were closed, his 
swollen lips parted, his cheeks flushed. He looked like pure 
sex. A growl tumbled from me before I could rein it in and I 
attacked his neck, sucking and licking at the soft, warm skin. 
I could still taste disinfectant. More importantly, I could 
still smell it masking Jack’s natural scent.

“You smell like the hospital.” I wrinkled my nose and nipped at 
his earlobe. “Whaddya say we jump in the shower and I can get 
all those hard-to-reach places for ya.”

His breath shuddered and he nodded, his fingers already working 
my shirt buttons.

The lust cooled a little once we were under the spray and 
focused on cleaning each other. But eventually the touches 
became more intimate, less focused. I stepped out of range when 
Jack’s hand started getting dangerously close to my cock and 
reached to turn off the water. “Bed,” I said when he looked 
confused.

We had the presence of mind to take the time to dry each other 
off before I dragged him into the bedroom, tossing the covers 
aside absently and shoving him on the bed.

He lay back and spread his legs invitingly, reaching a hand out 
to me. “Lube?” he prompted.

I shook my head. This was going faster than I wanted it to. 
This was the first time I had him truly with me – sober and 
more or less drug free – and I wanted to take advantage of it. 
I wanted to take my time exploring him, learning all of his 
sweet spots, wringing every last gasp of pleasure from him. 
“Not yet.”

He looked apprehensive and started to pull his hand back. I 
caught it and kissed each knuckle.

“Do you trust me?”

He swallowed and nodded.

I unfolded his hand and licked at his palm. “Then just lay back 
and let me make you feel good.” I sucked two of his fingers 
into my mouth, swirling my tongue around and between them until 
he shivered, his eyes going dark. He nodded. I let his fingers 
slip from my mouth and bit gently at the soft skin of his 
wrist. “Good boy.”

I trailed kisses and licks down his arm, lingering at his elbow 
where I hit a sensitive spot, making him gasp. I lapped at a 
couple of the smaller, farthest flung stars decorating his 
upper arm, gently tracing the line of Chinese characters on his 
shoulder with one finger. I wondered – not for the first time – 
what it all meant to him.

I saw his other hand reach for me from the corner of my eye and 
grabbed it, making a muffled warning noise without looking up, 
intently tracing the giant number five with my tongue.

“Please,” he whimpered. “I wanna touch you.”

“Later,” I promised, working my way up his shoulder, nibbling 
at his collarbone. “This ain’t about me right now.” I kissed 
the little hollow at the top of his breastbone and felt his 
breathing stutter a little. “All you gotta do...” I worked my 
way up his neck, feeling his Adam’s apple bob under my tongue. 
“Is lay back and *react*. Tell me how it feels, what you want.” 
He squirmed as I licked another sensitive spot behind his ear. 
“Be as loud as you need to. Hang on to the headboard if you 
gotta do somethin’.” I kissed his unresisting lips briefly on 
my way to his other ear, licking all along the outer shell and 
dipping my tongue inside shallowly. He gasped and jerked his 
head away instinctively.

“Sorry,” I muttered and continued working at the now-exposed 
spot behind the ear, tracing along his hairline. 

He shivered and made a tiny noise somewhere between a contented 
hum and a reluctant groan. “Don’t tease,” he breathed.

“I ain’t teasin’.” I straddled him carefully, keeping our hips 
a safe distance apart and worked my way down the other side of 
his neck, across the shoulder. “Just tryin’ to find your sweet 
spots.” I attacked the soft, fleshy skin on the inside of his 
arm, making him gasp. I smiled. “There’s one.” I ran my fingers 
along that same spot on his other arm, where part of his tattoo 
was. “These musta really hurt.”

He hummed a vague agreement. 

I started tracing the curves of his pecs – less defined than 
they had once been, I was sure, but substantial nonetheless. He 
made a noise almost like a purr when I sucked and licked at his 
nipples one at a time until they stood at stiff attention, then 
he gasped as I pinched them lightly.

I coaxed his legs apart and knelt between them, bending to 
continue licking and kissing his stomach, biting at the hint of 
love handles on his sides and dipping my tongue into his navel 
until he writhed.

“Please...Sawyer...”

I ran my fingers down the insides of his thighs, making him 
shiver, my tongue following close behind. His hips were bucking 
by the time I found the sensitive spot on the inside of his 
knees.

A small, helpless cry escaped him when I took the head of his 
cock in my mouth and sucked gently, lapping a bead of moisture 
from the tip. I moaned at the taste of him – still somewhat 
bitter from the drugs, but more like *him* - that combination 
of sea air, spice and something I couldn’t quite identify that 
was purely Jack. I was sure I could never tire of his taste.

I saw his fingers twist in the bedsheets, his neck arch. He 
spread his legs wider and thrust up into my mouth. I relaxed my 
throat and just held still, letting him fuck my mouth, still 
sucking only gently.

I had to force myself to stop. Much as I might want him to come 
like this, I wanted to be inside him more. I pressed his hips 
to the mattress and pulled off his cock slowly. I couldn’t 
resist licking along the thick vein in the underside, feeling 
his pulse beat against my tongue. 

“Please, Sawyer,” he whined.

“I wanna fuck you,” I breathed, flicking the purpling tip.

He responded by spreading his legs a little wider and moaning 
loudly.

I held back a groan and reached down to pinch the head of my 
cock. I could *not* come before I was even inside him like some 
horny teenager. “Roll over,” I mumbled.

He made a high pitch, soft noise of protest.

I patted his hip and sat back, reaching for the nearest pillow 
and handing it to him. “C’mon. I promise I’ll make it good.”

He hesitated a second longer, then rolled onto his stomach 
carefully, arranging the pillow under his hips.

I fumbled a little with the lube, digging it from the drawer 
and coating my fingers. Then I leaned over until my lips just 
brushed his ear. “Just stay nice and relaxed.”

He shivered and moaned as I pressed one lubed finger to his 
entrance, circling gently.

I felt his muscles give, his body opening to me easily, and I 
pushed inside. He moaned again, more guttural, and spread his 
legs a little wider, pushing back, trying to take my finger 
deeper.

I kissed the spot behind his ear and licked at the back of his 
neck while I made slow, deep thrusts.

“Please,” he whimpered. “More.”

I obeyed without a second thought, pushing a second finger in 
and scissoring them gently, stretching him. I brushed his 
prostate teasingly and his hips jerked, humping the pillow 
instinctively. He made a low growling noise that made my cock 
twitch, eager to be inside that tight heat.

I ignored it. “That good baby?”

“Fuck yeah,” he gasped.

I froze for a moment, startled by the un-Jack-like outburst. He 
pushed his hips back pointedly, encouraging me to start again.

“Tell me what you want,” I said, almost pleading, as I started 
moving again.

“You,” he panted.

“Me what,” I prodded.

“Want you to fuck me. Need to feel you inside me. Fuck!” He 
bucked as I pressed both fingers firmly into his prostate. 
“Oh...”

I started tracing down his spine with lips and tongue, pressing 
a third finger in and thrusting steadily, avoiding his 
prostate, just focusing on opening him. “How long’ve you wanted 
that,” I asked.

“Wh...oh...” he whimpered as I found a sensitive spot on his 
lower back. “What?”

I licked back up his spine and straddled him, pulling my 
fingers free to brace myself and making him whine in protest. 
“How long have you wanted this,” I whispered in his ear. I let 
my cock slip between his cheeks and thrust gently, rubbing 
against his stretched and wet opening. He gasped and I groaned. 
It was taking every ounce of restraint I had to not just push 
inside. But I wanted to watch his face when I did, wanted to 
see his eyes so full of desperate need. I wanted him to see 
only me. I wanted to watch him when he finally lost control.

He arched and writhed, thrusting his hips toward me, inviting 
me to take him. “Oh...I don’t...I don’t know. Please...fuck me, 
James. Now...”

Hearing my given name tumble from his lips in a moment of 
passion sobered me a little – the word so out of place, almost 
foreign. “Not ‘til you tell me.” The tip of my cock bumped 
against his opening, making us both moan.

“I don’t know, I...just know when I found you chopping bamboo 
for the raft I wanted to get on my knees right there and suck 
you off.”

My cock throbbed and I thrust my hips a little harder, forcing 
a choked cry from Jack.

“You were so fucking gorgeous,” he continued, babbling. “Sweaty 
and dirty, muscles bulging every time you swung that fucking 
axe...I couldn’t stop staring. I just wanted you to throw me 
against a tree and fuck me...jerk me off...anything.”

I knew I would have done just that if he’d given me any sort of 
sign back then – if for no reason other than to take control 
over the pompous, overbearing leader I’d thought he was. I 
would have fucked him hard, made him bleed, until he begged me 
to let him come. Maybe I would have. And afterward I was sure 
he would’ve regretted it and never been able to look me in the 
eye again. There was a time I would’ve been happy with that. 
But not anymore. And certainly not with Jack.

I allowed myself one last teasing thrust, enjoying the helpless 
little noises he made in the back of his throat, then pulled 
away. “Roll over.”

He obeyed quickly and without a word – a fact that startled me 
so much that I just stared at him in stunned silence for 
several seconds. Sometime in the last few weeks he seemed to 
have decided that he could trust me with anything. His secrets, 
his body...his life. I wasn’t sure if I was more scared or 
humbled by that.

I decided I could pass it off as lust this time when he 
finished arranging the pillow under his hips and reached for 
me, spreading his legs obscenely wide.

I fished for the bottle of lube and shoved it in his hands 
while I went back to nibbling on his neck. I bit down a little 
too hard when his slick hand wrapped around my cock, moving a 
little too roughly in his urgency, more focused on coating me 
in the lube than anything else. He gasped as I licked the angry 
red mark in apology.

“Please, Sawyer, now,” he moaned, guiding my cock between his 
legs.

I leaned over him, forcing back the overwhelming need to be 
inside him *now*, and looked down at his flushed face. “Look at 
me.”

His eyes fluttered open and slowly focused on my face, the 
pupils so large there was hardly any color left around them.

“With me.” I pushed inside as slow as I could stand, gritting 
my teeth to hold back a moan as his body clenched around the 
head of my cock, pulling me forward. 

He gasped, his eyes losing focus, and his hands moved to my 
back, fingers digging into my skin. “Oh, fuck...yes,” he 
whimpered, thrusting back, taking me deeper, his body opening 
up easily to welcome me in.

I forced myself to go slow, stopping when I couldn’t go any 
further. I kissed him sloppily for a minute, giving him time to 
adjust and me time to cool down a little. I rested my forehead 
against his and just breathed, groaning as his body pulsed 
around my cock. “You got any idea what you do t’ me,” I 
grumbled.

He writhed and twisted beneath me, trying to get enough 
leverage to thrust. “Jesus...*move*, please!”

“Shh...ain’t any rush, darlin’.” I rocked my hips a little 
anyway, unable to stay completely still anymore.

He stilled and groaned. “Yeah...like that.” He wrapped his legs 
around me. “Little higher.”

I shifted my hips a little until he gasped. “That it?”

“Yeah. Right there,” he panted, finding my rhythm and matching 
it with tiny, rolling movements of his hips.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” I blurted. “Feel so damn good. 
Don’t ever wanna stop...”

“No,” he agreed, his hands roaming blindly over my back. “So 
good...” His neck arched and he strained to keep his eyes 
focused on me.

A strange, warm feeling came over me suddenly, shoving aside 
the haze of lust for a moment. In that moment two thoughts came 
crashing into my head. The first was that I wasn’t nearly close 
enough to Jack. My cock was buried fully inside him and his 
legs were clenched so tightly around my waist that I could 
barely move but somehow that wasn’t enough. I wanted to sink 
into him, until our bodies merged, until I actually became a 
part of him and not even his precious science could separate 
us. The second thought was that this was the difference between 
sex and lovemaking that women were always going on about.

I crouched low over him, until our bodies were pressed 
together, slipping my arms beneath his shoulders to gather him 
close to me. 

He shuddered and arched against me, pressing his no-doubt 
aching cock into my abdomen. “Oh, fuck,” he gasped. “Sawyer!”

“Yeah,” I grunted.

He whimpered and I vaguely felt his nails sink into my 
shoulders. His movements faltered and he writhed like he 
couldn’t get close enough to me either.

“I gotcha,” I gasped directly into his ear. “Come for me, 
baby...”

He took two gulping lungfuls of breath, his body surging 
against me, trying to get just the right amount of friction. 
Then he suddenly stopped moving, the muscles surrounding my 
cock tightening, clamping down until it was an effort to move 
at all. He bucked suddenly, his incoherent cry ringing in my 
ears as his cock erupted wetly in the tight space between us.

I was barely able to hold on long enough to watch his eyes lose 
focus before my own orgasm crashed into me so suddenly I nearly 
blacked out. I clung to Jack, gasping and moaning as all of the 
built up tension in my body unwound and poured directly out of 
me.

I collapsed on top of Jack, unable to hold my weight up anymore 
and struggled to catch my breath. I felt him pet my hair, his 
fingers trembling.

“You okay,” I gasped when I recovered enough to speak.

He grunted.

A smile tugged at my lips. “That a yes?”

He sighed.

I forced myself up onto my elbows, the overused muscles in my 
arms screaming in protest, and looked down at him. He blinked 
back up at me, looking worn out and thoroughly pleased. Then he 
gave me a tiny smile and tilted his chin, tugging my hair 
gently, inviting me to kiss him.

I kissed him gingerly, as if the smallest amount of pressure 
might cause him to shatter. Or maybe it was the feelings 
welling up between us and this new change in our relationship 
that I was afraid of shattering.

I tried to roll over onto the bed, but his arms and legs 
tightened around me, holding me in place.

“Don’t move,” he pleaded. “Not yet.”

I gave in easily – not really wanting to separate myself from 
him either quite yet. I nuzzled his neck, pressing lazy kisses 
to his sweaty skin. “I hurt you?”

“No,” he sighed.

“Good.”

I lay still for a minute, just kissing him, enjoying the feel 
of the aftershocks that made him tremble ever so slightly. I 
rolled my hips a little and his fingers dug deeper into my 
shoulders, a few garbled curses spilling from his lips between 
breaths.

I finally decided that if I didn’t move sometime soon I would 
fall asleep and crush him. I pulled out gently, soothing his 
protests with lingering kisses, and reached for the box of 
Kleenex. Once we were cleaned up a bit, I curled back into his 
side, my chin pressed to his shoulder, our arms and legs 
becoming comfortably tangled.

“You need your meds,” I asked softly.

“No,” he murmured. “I’m fine.”

His fingers trailed along my shoulder and it took me a moment 
to realize he was tracing the scar left by the gunshot wound 
Zeke had given me – a reminder of one of the many times Jack 
had saved my life back on the island. 

“Thank you,” he whispered so softly I almost couldn’t make out 
the words. “For saving me.”

“Meant what I said, Doc,” I said gently. “I ain’t ready to let 
you go.”

His fingers stopped tracing and he tilted his head so he could 
look more directly into my eyes. “Come back with me,” he said 
tentatively.

I held back a sigh and looked deep into his eyes. I wanted to 
argue with him. I wanted to remind him that the place he was 
trying so hard to get back to was a crazy goddamn death trap. I 
wanted to say that he wasn’t fucking *God* and he couldn’t save 
*everyone*. But arguments like that were what led him to nearly 
kill himself trying to prove everyone wrong. If I pushed him 
away now, he’d just go right back to it. But maybe if I stayed 
at his side and steered him gently from some of his crazier 
ideas...maybe I could keep him safe.

I took a deep breath and, before I could change my mind, said 
“all right.”

*********

I had gone crazy. That was all there was to it. Why else would 
I have let Jack talk me into getting on a plane we had been 
told would crash right back on the island we’d spent months 
trying to get off of. But if I was crazy then I wasn’t the only 
one. Everyone was going back. Kate, Hugo, Sun...even Ben, in a 
coffin in the luggage compartment. 

Jack had been a nervous bundle of energy since the airport and 
I had a half a mind to take him into one of the tiny bathrooms 
and suck him off just to relax him a little. Instead, I’d spent 
about twenty minutes explaining to Hurley and Sun why Jack and 
I were suddenly joined at the hip and another twenty minutes 
trying to read my book while ignoring Jack’s fidgeting. He’d 
already wandered across the aisle to talk to Kate, who he said 
didn’t have much to say and refused to explain why she’d 
suddenly ditched the kid with his grandmother.

“How can you read,” Jack muttered.

“My momma taught me,” I retorted.

He shot me a look that suggested he’d be rolling his eyes if he 
wasn’t so on edge.

I bit back a sigh. “’cause I ain’t so sure this plan’s gonna 
work.”

“You don’t *think* it’s gonna work, or you don’t *want* it to 
work?”

I sighed and put my book down, slipping my reading glasses 
between the pages like a bookmark. “Last time we flew over that 
island our plane split in two. Crash damn near killed us. So 
no, I ain’t lookin’ forward to doin’ that again. I just ain’t 
about to let you do it alone.

His annoyance visibly crumbled. “I didn’t mean to drag you into 
this...”

“Hey, you had your reasons. Lotta good people got left behind, 
includin’ your sister. If doin’ this’s gonna bring them home, 
it’s worth a shot.” I leaned closer to him and dropped my voice 
to a growl. “But if you even *think* about dyin’ on me, I’m 
gonna follow you to the hereafter and kill you again for 
leavin’ me.” I realized once the words had left my mouth that 
they didn’t really make sense, but I didn’t care.

He gave me a small, brittle smile. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” I mumbled, sitting back in my chair and 
picking up my book again, trying to find the spot where I’d 
left off.

Jack went back to quietly fidgeting. A minute later, his 
fingers wandered to my knee, tracing the seam on my jeans 
carefully. “I love you,” he whispered.

I couldn’t help but smile. Jack had always been able to make me 
go from relaxed and happy to pissed off in seconds, but it was 
only in the last few months that he’d gotten good at going the 
other way around. “I love you too. Now sit still before I have 
to do somethin’ drastic.”

“Drastic?”

I glanced over to see him squinting in confusion, the space 
between his eyes wrinkling. For a smart man, he was sometimes 
adorably naïve. 

I put down my book again and leaned in close until my lips 
nearly touched his ear, letting my fingers trace the inseam of 
his slacks, ignoring the way his whole body stiffened and a 
soft, startled gasp escaped his mouth. “I could make you come 
in this damn stupid suit right here and no one would have to 
know,” I whispered.

“Sawyer,” he hissed under his breath, frantically shoving at my 
arm, trying to push my hand away. I let him but brought it 
right back, this time starting further up his thigh. After the 
second attempt to knock my hand away he gave up, realizing his 
actions would draw more attention than mine. He shuddered as I 
kissed the sensitive spot under his ear.

“Or I could take you into the bathroom and suck you off nice 
and slow.” I cupped my hand over the growing bulge in his 
slacks, gently massaging the tip of his cock through the 
material.

His breathing hitched and I knew his eyes were frantically 
scanning the cabin, looking for signs that anyone could see 
what I was doing even though I was sure nobody could – a perk 
of being in the last row of the section. “Stop it,” he begged.

“Bet you’d like that. Bed that’d get you nice and relaxed.” I 
pressed a little harder and felt him twitch beneath my hand. 

“Please,” he practically whimpered. “Stop.”

I let up, moving my hand to safer ground mid-thigh. I gave him 
a half a second to relax and breathe before kissing him, 
plunging my tongue past unresisting lips. I waited until his 
hand started to come up, reaching hesitantly for my hair. Then 
I pulled back, lightly nipping at his lower lip along the way. 
I smiled at the dazed look on his face.

“Meet me in two minutes,” I said under my breath. I gave his 
thigh one last squeeze and stood, tossing my book and glasses 
on my seat and heading for the bathroom. I doubted he would 
actually follow, but it didn’t matter. I had to piss anyway.

I was still struggling to hold down the sink levers and wash my 
hands at the same time – cursing whatever sadist designed 
airplane bathrooms – when the door pushed open. I turned, my 
mouth half-open, ready to yell at whoever had opened the door 
I’d “accidentally” left open, when Jack slipped into the tight 
space, fumbling to close the door behind him.

“Bastard,” he grumbled.

I smiled and slid my hand behind his back, locking the cabin 
door. “Welcome to the Mile High Club, Doc.”

********

Orange juice did not mix well with semen, I decided. I cringed 
and took another sip from the tiny plastic cup anyway. I 
should’ve just gotten water, but Jack had spewed some medical 
crap about Vitamin C and folic acid and slugged down his own 
glass of juice in two gulps. I looked over at him, flipping 
somewhat absently through my discarded book, my glasses tucked 
safely inside his jacket pocket, and smiled. He *did* look much 
more relaxed. A bit disheveled and fuzzy around the edges too, 
in spite of the time he spent carefully fixing his clothes and 
hair. I reached over to smooth a tiny lock of hair over his 
temple and smiled when he looked up at me questioningly. He 
smiled back slowly and went back to flipping through the book. 
I sighed and leaned back in my seat, looking around the cabin 
at all of our friends, wondering again how they had all managed 
to get on the same plane by chance and why Sayid, of all 
people, was in handcuffs.

I almost didn’t feel the first jolt. Jack tensed beside me.

I put down my glass and it flew from the tray table on the next 
bump, spilling to the floor and splattering Jack’s dress shoes. 
He didn’t notice.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the pilot has turned on the ‘fasten 
seatbelts’ sign. If you would please return to your seats...”

The next jolt sent a passing flight attendant sailing across 
the aisle. I grabbed blindly for Jack’s hand and squeezed so 
hard I was sure every finger must be sheet white. He squeezed 
back just as tightly.

My eyes met his and I knew in that moment exactly what was 
going through his mind, even thought he didn’t say a word. 
“This is it. It’s over. I’m sorry.”

A low hum filled the cabin and I thought I saw a bright white 
light on the edges of my vision. I ignored it. If this was my 
last minute on Earth, I wasn’t about to spend it worrying about 
what was happening around us. Nothing else mattered. Nothing 
else existed. There was only me and Jack.

“I love you,” I called over the growing noise.

He opened his mouth, but before he could reply the white light 
grew brighter, taking over my entire vision, forcing me to shut 
my eyes. And then everything went black.

*********

“Sawyer...Sawyer! James! Damnit, don’t you dare do this to me, 
you son of a bitch!”

Cool hands prodded at my head and neck. I groaned when they 
prodded a couple sore spots.

“Sawyer? Can you hear me?”

“Loud ‘n clear, Doc.” I tried to open my eyes and winced as 
sunlight rushed in.

“Don’t move.” I felt his hands move carefully along my back.

I ignored his order, flexing my arms and legs a little to make 
sure they were working before I rolled onto my stomach and 
hauled up onto all fours.

“Sawyer,” he protested.

“I’m fine, Doc. Relax,” I grumbled. I forced my eyes open, 
blinking until the swirling green and brown came into focus. I 
was in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by disturbingly 
familiar looking trees. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. I don’t remember the plane crashing. Do you?”

“No.” I felt at a sore spot on my head and vaguely remembered 
seeing something flying toward me before everything went dark. 
I groped for his hand and dragged him closer, poking and 
prodding his arms, neck and head clumsily, not really sure what 
I was looking for. I stared into his eyes, reassuring myself 
that he was really *there* with me – unharmed. 

He groaned softly. “I’m fine, Sawyer. I wasn’t the one hit in 
the head with a briefcase.” He paused and held his hand in 
front of my face, two fingers extended. “How many fingers am I 
holding up?”

“Which hand am I lookin’ at?”

I was torn between laughter and apology at the look of horror 
on his face. Finally I just slapped the hand away and pulled 
him into a kiss, muffling any further protests he may have had.

He finally relaxed, leaning into me, kissing me back 
gratefully. I wrapped my arms around him tightly, burying my 
nose in his heck, breathing him in, reassuring myself that we 
were both really *there* and alive.

I finally pulled back a little, glancing around the jungle. 
“So...we’re really back?”

He smiled nervously. “It looks like it.”

“You see anyone else?”

His face fell, the familiar concern taking over. “No. Not yet.” 
He looked around the clearing. “We should try to find them.” 

He started to get up but I pulled him back down.

“Hey...” I hesitated, unsure of what it was, exactly, that I 
wanted to tell him. He blinked at me, confused. Finally, I just 
smiled and said “I love you.”

He smiled slowly and I realized that, for the first time in far 
too long, the smile actually reached his eyes. Maybe there was 
something about this crazy place that gave him a sense of 
purpose. Maybe coming back here was really all he’d needed.

“I know,” he said.

I rolled my eyes. “All right, Han Solo, let’s go find the 
others.”
 
He laughed and we helped each other stand up. My hand found his 
and squeezed gently as we headed through the jungle, searching 
for our missing friends. Wherever we ended up – no matter what 
happened or what we found – I would be by his side. I would 
have his back and he would have mine. In a way, really, that 
had always been the case. And in the end, it was all that 
mattered.


THE END