i could pretend more then, i could believe more then

[confidenceman]

[ continued from here ]

He shrugged helplessly. "Relatives," he answered, the word flat in tone, leaving no room for elaboration, nor expressing any apparent desire to go further than that. Still, he sifted through his memories, eyes narrowing slightly as he ran over the thought of each aunt, each uncle, each cousin, and relatives further out than that still. "Ain't any of them bad people, but they didn't know how to handle it any better'n I did. Pushed 'round from one to the other. Decided in ninth grade that I could just run and never look the hell back."

And it'd worked, his mind supplied. Countless names given at crucial junctures, but only one handed out for the actual con itself, no matter how much of a risk that ran.

Comments

[notfaking_it]

In a way, Lily's life had been similar. She knew better than to compare the tragedy he'd been through with anything she'd dealt with -- nothing even came close -- but she'd been taking care of herself for a long time, not out of any desire to keep people away, but simply because she knew she was good at it. Better than most people, which was why she still tried to take care of others in her way.

"Was it lonely?" She knew it could be. Connections could be fleeting and some people didn't stick around for longer than a few moments, but they were necessary, too. Lily needed people, she needed to be around people, even if she could take care of herself.

[confidenceman]

The question tempts Sawyer to laugh, although he manages to keep it down to a light snort, not quite of disbelief, but instead with the grating lack of desire to think too deeply about those years. They're long past, after all. What would be the point of dwelling? No one was prepared for his arrival, but they shouldn't have been. No one should have had to be prepared for the entrance of a young, orphaned boy in their lives, taciturn and with absolutely no desire to discuss everything that he'd seen in recent memory.

"Pretty sure it would've been lonely no matter what happened," he concludes, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead, wiping away cold sweat that lingers there already, spurred by a wave of nausea.

[notfaking_it]

Briefly, Lily's chin dipped in a nod. No matter who had taken him in, it would have been lonely. He was right about that and she reached up to tuck her hair behind her ears before she looked at him again, still pulled between wonder and concern. It was a long time ago and she was hardly the protective, maternal type, which she doubted was something he would even want or need anyway, and yet she still found herself wanting to do something.

She didn't know what, but she wasn't prepared to leave him there just yet either.

"Do you have any water?" she asked without looking around the hut. It was a mess and she didn't like to pick through someone else's things. If there was any, he'd tell her where to find it.

[confidenceman]

Blearily, Sawyer opened his eyes, glancing about his hut. What a mess, he thought to himself, lips pressed tightly shut. The kind of mess that he might have felt guilty about, had he more strength to care. Clothes thrown everywhere. A floorboard or two ajar. The glint of that pistol, even out of his hands, still catching the light of the moon. He was pretty sure that there was a gourd of water somewhere, potentially next to his bed, but squinting wasn't yielding much of anything in his general field of vision.

"Think so," he said instead, rubbing at his forehead. "By the bed or... sonuvabitch." His breath passed through his teeth in a hiss. "Shouldn't make you stay for any of this."

[notfaking_it]

With a huff of air that was barely a laugh at all, Lily rose easily and crossed toward the bed. She picked her way easily through the mess, moved a few things aside and found the water, then crossed back to where Sawyer was sitting.

"You're not making me do anything," she pointed out as she crouched in front of him again. No one made Lily do anything at all, which was what she was really saying, and she was here because she chose to be. "Here." She held the gourd out to him, letting it nudge gently against his hands. "Drink some of this, then tell me where to find a rag or an old shirt. Something like that."

[confidenceman]

"A rag?" Sawyer asked, before flinching at the sound of his own voice, pressing his heel heavily against the side of his nose. What on earth was a rag supposed to do for him, he wondered. Perhaps to mop up cold sweat. Had he already thrown up? A pluck of his shirt and a cursory sniff told him nothing more than the fact that he probably had to do laundry at some point or another.

Although, admittedly, the burn of alcohol still lingering in the air was enough to cut through just about anything.

Hesitantly, he pressed the gourd to his lips, then found himself able to down water fairly quickly, thirstier than he expected to be. "Dresser's on the far side of the room," he said, eyes closed. "Opposite corner from the door. Shirts there. Don't got much of a rag; I sweep, ain't much to do about dust."

[notfaking_it]

"It isn't for cleaning," Lily answered as she stood once more and went to the dresser. It was just the sort of intrusive she liked, opening someone else's drawer while they were in the room, and she ran her fingers lightly over the folded clothes inside before she settled on a thin cotton shirt. She plucked it from between the others and closed the drawer gently, then returned to Sawyer again.

"I like you well enough, but this mess is all your own," she said, then took the gourd from him again and carefully wet the shirt. The situation was different, but she'd taken care of sick friends before and when the shirt was damp, she reached around and pressed it to the back of his neck.

[confidenceman]

"More to a mess than just dirt here'n there," Sawyer pointed out, even as he tilted his head to match the motions of her hand, the cool water calming down his nerves and his breathing, Sawyer holding himself steady while she was in such close proximity. There was a strange feeling to it, the patches of clarity that his mind experienced, even while the world still spun in a confusing blur. "Think a mess of people's harder to clean than..."

His eyes roved around the room for emphasis. Messy though it was, repairs clearly needed, all the same, he'd never kept very much in that hut in the first place.

[notfaking_it]

"You're not wrong," Lily agreed gently as she held the wet t-shirt against the back of his neck. It seemed to be helping, at least a little, and she sat down carefully in front of him again, her legs crossed, hand steady on the damp cloth. As it was, Lily had a tendency to cut and run when the mess got too bad, but for some reason she'd stayed. Not just this time, not just with Sawyer, but she was thinking of Nina, too. Even here on the island, Lily wasn't completely convinced that Nina had escaped whatever hold her mother had on her. But she hadn't gone anywhere. She didn't fool herself into thinking she'd helped at all, but she hadn't disappeared.

"But people manage," she said, using her free hand to hook her hair behind her ear. "You'll manage, which I'm sure is the most original and comforting piece of advice you've heard in your entire life." With a dry laugh, she shook her head. "I don't mean it to sound quite that dismissive."

[confidenceman]

"It doesn't," Sawyer exhaled heavily, shaking his head, brow furrowed for how much he was tempted to stay her hand, almost embarrassed. Almost humiliated, perhaps. But he managed a grin, for all that Lily didn't seem to mind caring for him in that capacity, sitting there calmly while the world continued to spin, save for her presence, steady and strong in front of him. "Doesn't sound dismissive, sounds..."

He snorted. "Realistic."

While there were countless details which weighed down on him, the whole of them snowballing, seemingly impossible from an isolated perspective, some part of him. This wouldn't be the straw to break the camel's back. He'd get along, as he always did, and Kate Austen's absence would never be the driving factor that kept him buried. More than anything else, it was a damned wake-up call. He exhaled at the thought.

"Think I should probably get some sleep," he muttered, hand raising to brush against the back of her own in thanks.

[notfaking_it]

"Probably a good idea," she agreed softly and although she didn't know whether or not he'd actually be able to sleep, she rose slowly anyway, the damp t-shirt still held in her hands. It could be that he wanted to be alone now, that he might not sleep at all, but Lily had no problem giving that to him. With the gun discarded, the anger calmed at least a little, she didn't feel that leaving him here alone would do any damage.

As she'd said, he would manage. She had no doubt of that.

"Come on," she said, shifting the shirt to one hand and then offering him the other. It wasn't an invitation, she had no intention of staying with him. If she had thought it might help him, she would have, but even as she stood in front of him, holding a damp piece of cloth in one hand, she found she still wasn't sure what would help him, if anything else could.

[confidenceman]

It was perfectly possible that he'd find himself wake for hours yet while on the bed, but more than anything else, Sawyer just wanted the time to step back and run over all the facts again on his own. With Lily here, he was too aware of her, too tempted to sink again in self-pity, while ineffectually compelled to do the opposite. With the initial surge of anger and confusion bled out, perhaps he would do as he always did, survive against the odds.

He took her hand, wordless as he rose to his feet, gaze quickly turning over to his bed as he hobbled in its direction— speed made up for his lack of balance, a push of momentum drawing him closer until he felt his knees bump against the side of the straw mattress.

"Think I'm okay," he said first, before words of gratitude. (Those would be better given when sober, anyway.)

[notfaking_it]

"Yeah, I think you will be," Lily agreed, then offered him the damp t-shirt she was still holding. It might help to make him feel better, might even help him fall asleep and she didn't want to take it with her now. They hadn't been especially close before this and Lily didn't know if they were now, but she did know it had changed how she looked at him. Not necessarily in a good or bad way, just a change, one that she was comfortable with. One she hoped he would be comfortable with.

She reached out, pushed his hair back again, then offered a faint smile. "Get some sleep," she said before she took a step away from him and the bed, then turned and headed for the door. In a day or so she'd come back, make sure he was okay, try to get him out if it came to that, but she didn't think it would. When she came back, she imagined he'd be okay. Maybe not happy, but okay, and sometimes that was enough.

[confidenceman]

He pressed the t-shirt briefly to his temple, already feeling cold beads of sweat, and watched as Lily retreated from the hut. All things considered, compared to the hours that he'd spent simply trapped in his thoughts and taking everything out on the walls around him, they hadn't spoken for long. She hadn't needed to stay for long. But the effect was undeniable, his eyes falling shut once she was out the door, and the silence comforting for once, encouraging him to stay still.

"Yeah," he breathed, even though she was too far to hear, and slipped off to sleep at last.