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‘Fuck it,’ you think to yourself. ‘I’m doing it,’ There’s no way you’re going to be stuck on this island with nothing to do but think about how incredibly and thoroughly fucked you all are. You think it’s been about two weeks. You haven’t been bothering to count that intently, it's not like it matters anyway. There’s no way you’re going to exhaust yourself lugging heavy pieces of metal across the beach all day, people just need a way to feel useful. It gives them a sense of control. You know damn well you’ve got no control.
What you can control, though, is whether or not you go ask Sawyer for a book. You need something, anything. And a book will certainly fill the void of panic you keep ignoring. You can’t control whether or not he’ll give you one, but you’re not afraid of him like a few others on the island are. He’s petrified and he’s externalizing, you’ve seen it before. Get them before they can get me. You don’t take any of it personally. If anything, you feel a sense of pity that you know he’d hate. With that in mind, you get up from where you’re lounging on the tree line and start the walk to Sawyer’s tent on the beach.
You plant yourself directly between Sawyer and the sun, casting him in your shadow. He raises his eyebrows and lowers his sunglasses.
“What can I do for you, Sunshine?” he draws out, book resting across his bare chest.
“Book. Now. Please,” you spit out. “I’ll give it back to you once I’m done,” you offer, weakly. This went a lot better in your head.
“Well how do I know you won’t destroy it somehow, these torrential downpours are unpredictable,” You roll your eyes, not sure what he’s getting at. Or if he’s just poking to poke, which is likely the case.
“Goddamnit, man. I’ll read right here, I don’t care, just give me a book,”
“And tell me why you aren’t over there with everybody else, clearing the wreckage?” He asks, that goddamn smirk plastered on his face. You sigh exasperatedly, resting your hands on your hips.
“I’m gonna be frank, okay? If they were coming to save us, they’d be here by now. I know that and you know that. Nobody’s coming. Not gonna waste my energy beautifying our space,” you spit out. “I want to do the one thing that doesn’t make me wanna throw myself into the ocean. Now give,” you hold out your hand expectantly.
“Whoa, slow down there, little lady, I never said I wouldn’t, just a simple question is all,” he says and turns to rifle through one of his several bags strewn throughout his makeshift campsite. He grabs three books, holding them up to show you. “We’ve got The Picture of Dorian Gray, The Princess Bride, and whatever the fuck this is,” he hands you the book, it’s the size of a brick. You take a look, it’s what appears to be a medical textbook from the 70’s. You snort.
“Sawyer, we could be stuck on this island for fifty years, and I will still not be reading this thing,” you say, handing it back to him. He smiles and you think to yourself that the first time you’ve seen him actually smile and not smirk.
“You and me both, sweetheart,” he chuckles. “So what’ll it be?” You walk closer to him and snatch the first book he grabbed. You wordlessly plop down in the sand next to him and open it up.
*****
You two carry on like that for a while, away from everyone else, only interrupted when somebody comes to ask Sawyer for something from his stash. Sometimes he gives it to them, sometimes he doesn’t. Charlie showed up the other day, begging for a cigarette, and to your surprise, Sawyer relented. They sat silently, smoking and staring at the sea. After Charlie left, Sawyer caught you smiling at him, he rolled his eyes, huffed, and rolled over, his back to you. You couldn’t help but laugh at the petulance he was playing up.
Sawyer lets you take whichever book you’re reading from his stash at the moment back with you to your camp at the end of the day, so you’re not quite sure why you keep returning. Maybe it’s those little moments where his guard drops ever so slightly and you get a glimpse of a human being with a soul and emotions, maybe you’re just lonely, who knows? You try not to dig into it too deeply. You stay away from a lot of emotions connected to Sawyer, you’re well aware you could lose yourself in it and that’d be dangerous. But in a way, he’s really all you’ve got here. You’re aware you’ve done that to yourself. Being with Sawyer is comfortable, it’s easy. You can do banter, what you can’t do are long, serious conversations about the predicament you’ve all found yourselves in.
You’ve been trying to keep a distance emotionally, so you can’t quite tell why you didn’t turn him down when he asked to stay the night. It could’ve been the look in his eyes or the way his eyebrows furrowed when he finally spit it out. Or the way his eyes widened when you didn’t answer immediately. Before he lets his fear overtake him and lashes out, you decide to put him out of his misery and agree.
“Yeah, sure, what the hell,” you say, making sure he can read the lightness in your tone and face. He visibly relaxes and you feel something clench in your chest. You swallow it and sit down next to him. You steel yourself and plop your head on his thigh, pulling your book out and forcibly avoiding eye contact. You feel yourself physically relax as he reaches down to gently stroke your hair. You try and bite down a grin, but you’re not quite sure it works. He doesn’t notice, just like you don’t notice the couple of times people try to approach and Sawyer sends them away with a glare alone.
Eventually, the last bit of light sinks below the horizon and you hear Sawyer sigh as he puts his book down gently on your side. You can feel his eyes boring into you and you decide to be brave again. He asked you, the least you can do is get the process started.
“Inside?” You ask, craning your neck around to look at him.
“Inside,” He responds softly. The both of you slowly rise to your feet and make your way inside. You look around, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before but this is different, more intimate, you know that. You look over to Sawyer, still hovering at the entrance. “We can dig you out an area in that corner over there,” he says, gesturing to the opposite corner of his current sleeping arrangements.
“Yeah, sure,” you say, stepping back outside to get the blankets you grabbed earlier. He walks over to the corner and starts gingerly digging out a you-shaped divet.
“Perfect,” you say as you chuck your shitty little airplane pillows (you managed to tie three together, they’re as thin as paper) onto the edge of the divet. You go to start throwing your top blanket down to create a barrier from the sand when you feel something soft hit your head. You look down and smile, it’s a regular pillow. An actual normal regular pillow. It’s got some sand on it now, but goddamn. You haven’t seen, much less used, a regular pillow since before.
“How did you…” you trail off, staring at him dumbfounded, eyes wide.
“Scavenger,” he says nonchalantly and clicks his tongue, winking at you.
“Thank you. Thank you so much,” you say, sincerity lacing your tone.
“Yeah, yeah, shut up about it already, would you?” He asks, voice completely devoid of any fire. You snort and go back to prepping your bedding. “Oh, and I’d throw this at you too but I think you’d probably kick my ass once you get up,” he crosses the couple of feet over to you and holds out a flashlight, but not before flashing his own in your eyes a few times. You barely notice, fucking ecstatic at the prospect of not having to sit alone with your thoughts and Sawyer’s snoring for the next few forevers. You can’t contain your squeal of excitement, hurriedly you grab it from him, and collapse into your half-made bed, opening your book as fast as you can. Sawyer laughs at your enthusiasm before sinking into his bed and opening his own book.
You’re not sure how much time passes, but eventually, Sawyer passes out. His snores aren’t as loud as you were expecting, just a little huff in and a little huff out. Before you know it, it’s lulled you right to sleep.
*****
You’re woken suddenly and dart up, it takes a minute for you to orient yourself. Oh, yeah, Sawyer’s tent. Speaking of Sawyer, you look over and see him shaking and softly whimpering. Your heart shatters. There he is, there’s the scared little boy you’d been drawn to for so long. You knew he was in there somewhere, but seeing him isn’t the victory you thought it would be, it’s just crushing you.
“Oh honey,” you softly whisper and make your way over to him. Careful not to wake him up, you place yourself gently down beside him. You start softly shushing him and stroking his hairline with your thumb, hand resting gingerly on his face. “You’re okay, Sawyer, I’m right here, everything’s okay,” he lets out a soft keening noise and you can’t take it anymore. After all he’s done for you, you’re gonna do this for him. You adjust yourself so that you’re lying parallel to him and scootch forward until the two of you are just barely touching. You take a deep breath, ‘fuck it,’ you think to yourself again, and reach out and softly pull him into you, cradling his head in your chest. You rub up and down his back with the hand that isn’t entwined in his hair. “You’re okay, honey, you’re okay. I’ve got you,” he lets out a deep breath and, honest to god, nuzzles into your neck. Where his skin touched yours instantly erupts in goosebumps and it feels like fire has been injected directly into your veins. It should burn, but it’s fucking magnificent.
As you look down to admire the sight currently wrapped in your arms, his eyes slowly flutter open. He looks up to meet yours and you can feel your heartbeat quicken. This is where the walls come back up and he kicks you out, right? To your complete surprise, he throws his head back into your neck, this time wrapping his arms around your waist.
“Hey Sunshine, I’m guessing I woke you up,” he says into your neck, the warmth from his breath summons your goosebumps back with a fury.
“Don’t you dare worry about it even a little bit, Sawyer” you say, and give him a quick squeeze.
“James,” he says quickly. You blink in confusion. “Call me James,” you don't understand but you don’t question it. You simply stroke his hair. You know the web that is Sawyer, James, actually, will be made clear to you in time, as he’s ready. And whatever this is? You can tell it’s a big step.
“Okay, James. Don’t you worry about it even a little bit,” your smile is evident in your voice and you can feel his pressed against your neck. You hope to god this is the beginning of a new pathway you never would’ve expected to find. You can’t quite remember why you were so afraid of this with him. The thought seems silly now. You’re still terrified, generally. You’re on a weird, seemingly haunted island in the middle of nowhere and you more than likely will die here, the question is just when. But you think you can actually make peace with that now. It’s all a lot easier to look at with him in your arms.
The two of you doze off, just like that.