dimples, james "sawyer" ford

nine

lana sat in a dimly lit room, her wrists no longer bound, but she was still a prisoner all the same. the sterile space had become a prison of a different kind—one where time seemed to stretch endlessly, punctuated only by visits from people who knew too much about her life. ben, with his unsettling calmness, and juliet, with her piercing eyes and folder full of details about her past.

she didn't know how much time had passed, she couldn't tell. there were no windows to mark the progress of time. she tried to piece together what was happening, but the isolation was making her mind race in circles.

sawyer stood a few yards away from michael, arms crossed, watching as the man and his son, walt, continued building the raft. the sounds of wood hammering against wood echoed across the beach.

people bustled around, sorting through what little they had, salvaging pieces of the plane wreckage, collecting what remained of their meager food supplies.

the beach had turned into a hive of desperate activity, everyone trying to make sense of their situation. sawyer's mind was elsewhere, in the memories of the past. he'd tried not to think about her, but she continued to creep into his mind. but she was gone. just like everything else in his life.

he clenched his jaw and stepped closer to michael, who was wiping the sweat from his forehead. "you sure this thing's gonna hold together, hoss?"

michael glanced up at sawyer with a frown. "i don't know, but it's the best shot we've got. i'm getting my son off this island."

"yeah? and you think you can make it out there?" sawyer motioned to the endless blue horizon. "ain't exactly a sunday cruise."

michael's expression hardened. "you got a better idea?"

sawyer smirked and shrugged. "nope. that's why i'm coming with you."

michael straightened, eyeing him warily. "what makes you think you're getting a spot on this raft?"

"simple." sawyer stepped forward, his voice lowering. "i've got supplies you need—food, water, things i've been stashing away while everyone else was playin' survivor. you're gonna need that if you wanna make it out there."

michael's eyes narrowed, weighing his options. sawyer could see the hesitation. he wasn't exactly the most popular guy on the island, but he had something they needed. that gave him leverage.

"what's in it for you?" michael asked, suspicion clear in his voice.

sawyer's smirk faded, and for a moment, his guard dropped just a fraction. "ain't nothin' left for me on this island, anyway."

michael studied him for a long moment before nodding reluctantly. "alright, you're on the raft. but you pull any of that conman crap, and you're swimming."

sawyer chuckled. "deal."

as michael went back to working on the raft, sawyer turned and walked away, heading toward his tent. the beach was full of people trying to create some semblance of normalcy, but sawyer wasn't interested in playing house.

the island was a dead end, and he'd never been one for staying in one place too long. but deep down, he knew there was more to it. he wasn't just running from the island—he was running from the memories.

lana sat cross-legged on the floor of the small room, staring at the door. the sound of it unlocking pulled her from her thoughts, and her body tensed up as juliet stepped inside. the blonde woman carried a tray of food and set it down on the small table.

"you need to eat, lana." juliet said, her voice soft, as if they were friends.

lana didn't move, her eyes narrowing at juliet. she didn't speak, she didn't want to. the woman sighed, sitting down across from her.

"we are keeping you safe."

lana scoffed and finally spoke. "safe from what? the island? i was doing just fine on my own."

juliet shook her head. "there are things on this island you don't understand. it's not as simple as surviving in the jungle. the others are trying to protect you from something far worse."

"worse? i'm your prisoner." lana dryly chuckled.

juliet didn't answer right away, her expression remaining neutral. "i know you're strong, lana. you've been through a lot in your life—more than most people could handle. but the truth is, we're not your enemies."

lana felt a pang of frustration. every word from juliet sounded like a riddle, a half-truth. the door opened again and ben walked in, his calm and calculating presence filling the room.

"lana," ben said, his tone almost cordial. "i wanted to talk about your future."

the girl furrowed her eyebrows. "what future?"

ben smiled, a thin, unsettling smile. "that depends on you."

lana didn't trust him, or any of them. but as the door closed again, sealing her in once more, she realised that she needed to play their game. for now. because james wouldn't give up, so neither would she.

sawyer sat down on a piece of driftwood, staring out at the ocean. the wind whipped at his face, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore filled the silence around him.

he took out the worn letter from his pocket, the one addressed to "mr. sawyer". he had read it so many times that the edges were frayed, the words practically etched into his memory. it was a reminder of his past, of everything that had been taken from him. and now, the island had taken something else.

he closed his eyes, trying to block out his racing thoughts. no matter how hard he tried, her face lingered in the back of his mind—the night they met, the fire in her eyes, the way she managed to always see through his bullshit.

he was leaving the island. but the real question was, would he ever be able to leave her behind?