LOST - Another Story

Solidarity

Sawyer let me sleep on his bed the first night after the accident while he slept on the chair. I told him that my tent wasn't that far away and I could just get up and go there but he wouldn't hear it. He was oddly protective of me, which I didn't mind but it was very out of character for him. When I woke up, Sawyer was there too, sitting on a small makeshift chair by the bed. I laughed quietly to myself, enjoying his temporary care of me. And I know it will be temporary.

He wouldn't let me get up all day, despite my multiple protests that I am "perfectly fine." Sawyer wouldn't hesitate to get me anything I needed, and even went as far as trying to feed me. I was surprised at his actions, seriously wondering if me taking the knife for him altered his personality permanently. It was only when Kate came over to see me did he stop, or at least he cut back on his care. It seems his reputation was greater than wanting to make sure I was okay. To be fair I was getting weird about it. Again, when night fell he made me sleep in his bed. I didn't protest that time since I was finally used to his scent, a mixture of sweat, cigarette smoke, and a manly musk unique to only him.

When I got up this morning, Sawyer was once again sleeping at my side. I wonder if he is worried I'll get up and go back to my tent. I don't know why he wants me to stick around anyway. Perhaps it's the fact that I'm the only one on the Island that doesn't hate him. I smile weakly at Sawyer's sleeping form as I sit up. As much as I like this tank top, I'd much rather put a shirt on over it. I try to slide off Sawyer's bed as quietly as I can to look around for my shirt, but Sawyer grabs my wrist as I try to get up.

"What are you doing blue eyes you should be laying down," Sawyer says calmly, concern in his eyes. I laugh slightly.

"James, I had a perfectly good night's rest and I feel much better now," I say to him and gently remove my wrist from his grasp. He opens his mouth to protest but Jack comes over and he has to shut his mouth.

"Hey Amelia," Jack says to me with a wave. He turns to Sawyer and with a nod of his head he says, "Sawyer."

"Hey Jack," I say and I glance under Jack's arm to see some medical supplies. "Time to change my bandages?" I ask and Jack laughs slightly.

"You read my mind, go sit down," Jack replies and gestures to Sawyer's bed for me to sit down.

"Hey that's my bed you're using Doc," Sawyer protests but I whip around to face him.

"Need I remind you that you're the one who demanded I stay in your tent, so you can stand me just sitting on it while Jack changes my bandages," I say sternly to Sawyer and he just looks at me with a grumpy expression.

I make my way back to Sawyer's makeshift bed and sit down on it. I smile sickly sweet to Sawyer and he continues to look at me with his grumpy expression. I know he's upset I made him look like a softy in front of Jack, and I swell a bit with pride knowing that fact.

Jack takes the seat Sawyer was previously occupying, and Sawyer hovers by Jack's side. He does his best to hide his nervousness at my wound, and I laugh silently to myself at him. I hold out my arm slightly and Jack rips off the bandages harder than he means to.

"Ow-" I respond with a little laugh.

"Hey!" Sawyer shouts, "Easy, Jackass."

"Oh quit moaning, it's not your bandages," Jack replies, not looking at Sawyer.

"Well, try not taking her skin off with them," Sawyer all but growls, "How'd blue eyes here score the house call, Dr. Quinn. Trying to ease your conscience?"

"My conscience is fine, thanks."

"Of course, what do you have to feel guilty about? I mean, you just let that damn Arab torture me an' her -- stood by and watched. You figure you patch me up -- buy you a ticket into heaven? Only reason you're here..."