Does That Make Me Crazy? {Sawyer}

[claire littleton.]

(Sorry guys, Sawyer dibbed the first visit.)

“No, we know you’re not crazy, dear. No one here is, just a little confused, and misunderstood. Don’t worry, your son is okay. You’ll be out of here in no time – honestly. Oh, those, those are just so you don’t accidentally pull the wires out.”

They thought she was crazy, not misunderstood, or confused. She wasn’t stupid. And they still failed to tell her where Aaron actually was, and no matter how much she asked, they only said he was okay. And were they honestly trying to tell her that the wrist straps that were currently cutting off her circulation were to stop her from pulling the wires? Did she look like a bloody threat to herself? Or to anyone else?! They were the crazy ones to think that Claire would believe the bullshit they were feeding her.

“Now, just give us a moment, and you won’t feel a thing.” She wanted to object, to get up , smack them and leave. She wanted to scream. Though, all the things she wanted to do were impossible as she was strapped down to some bed, and currently being injected with some lightly colored liquid in a needle. “NO.” Claire began shakily, trying to move her arm slightly, hoping the needle would come out. Instead, she felt it move inside of her which made her flinch in pain.

“Please, no, you can’t do this. I’m not meant to be here..” She wasn’t meant to be here, but the fact was, she was there, and she wasn’t leaving any time soon. “My son needs me!” Claire tried to raise her voice, to be heard in the room, to seem like more of a person then some drugged up crazy… But instead the sedation medication got to her, along with whatever else was in the needle, and before she knew it… Her world turned to black. She was gone.

[James "Sawyer" Ford]

After leaving Jack’s room, Sawyer had wisely returned to his own and taken the advice he had given Jack. Washing the blood off his face and hands and changing into a clean shirt, he couldn’t get rid of the bruise on his jaw or slightly swollen lip, but at least he looked somewhat presentable. Speaking with Sun, though, had been the hard part.

Sun didn’t like him, didn’t trust him, and she certainly didn’t think he had any good intentions. It had taken a lot of convincing and eventually playing to her maternal nature to get her to trust him with Aaron. She would be a mother soon, he had said to her, so could she deny another mother the chance to see her child? Alright, perhaps he hadn’t stated it so simply and elegantly, but it was what had eventually done the trick. Of course it hadn’t come without consequences either. If he didn’t have the kid back in a few hours Sun had threatened to call the police on him. He had no doubt she would follow through. Still, it was a better outcome than his first instinct of just busting in and taking the baby would have received.

Getting in to see Claire hadn’t been a picnic either. Good thing he retained that charm that had made him such a good conman. Of course he had had to agree to a few things. He couldn’t touch the patient, touch any restraining devices, couldn’t upset her and couldn’t let her touch the child.

Right.

Following the big burly ‘nurse’ to Claire’s room, Sawyer held Aaron awkwardly yet protectively in his arms. He hated this place already, it felt far too much like a prison to him, and he was about to find out the harsh truth to that feeling. When the door was opened and his eyes fell upon Claire, they widened considerably and he took a quick unconscious step forward before an ironclad hand gripped his shoulder.

“Remember, no-“ the man started to say but Sawyer quickly cut him off.

“I got it, Conan,” he growled, eyes narrowing. Feeling the grip vanish, he took one more defiant step forward before stopping to adhere to the rules. “Claire?”

[claire littleton.]

The ocean air always seemed to give her a calming effect – and this she remembered. Even when she was pregnant and the size of a small baby whale, sitting by the ocean in the broken plane chairs helped. The way the breeze rushed past her face, the occasional water that lapped at her toes – and some times the mist that clung helplessly to her face. Claire wanted that. At this point in time – she would give almost anything to get her and Aaron back to the island – back to the life they had all been living for the past three months.

The small , blinding white room , the one she was now in with the incredibly stuffy air. The room smelt of plastic and way to sterile to be good. It couldn’t be healthy – none of it could be. And that included the pills that were currently running amuck in her system mixing with the liquids that had been pushed in her through the tube in her wrist. Her entire body felt like it had been pushed through to the brim with cement, like she was a million pounds, and that it took ALL the energy in her body to even open her eyes. Maybe this is what being hit by a truck at one hundred miles per hour felt like.

She could only imagine.

Her dreams hadn’t been –all- that bad either… They were on the beach , Charlie and Aaron. Charlie had been attempting to teach the infant – who , mind you had no control of his arms, or almost anything else yet – how to build a sand castle. He seemed to animated, so excited. Then… He’d put him back in his crib and come over to Claire. His arms felt so real around her, and his lips as they pressed against her also felt real… It all did until Charlie and Aaron both began to melt. That was when she began to freak out – when she didn’t know what was happening.

That’s when Claire awoke with a sharp pain in her chest as she tried to lung upwards to make the pain go away. Instead, she found out it was nearly impossible to move, impossible to even open her eyes almost. “Claire?” the soothing voice flooded her ears . She knew the voice, yet for some reason, it felt too far away to register.

Her eyes fluttered lightly, trying to fully open , it was to the point where it almost hurt to open them. How could they feel that heavy? Did they have her on so many drugs that this is what she was reduced to? The first thing she noticed after the shock of the blinding white room set in was the fact that she was being restrained, then when her eyes adjusted to the distance… Sawyer was there…. With Aaron!

“A..” she tried weakly. Desperately trying to move failed. In all reality it simply looked like she was just laying there. That she wasn’t trying with all her might to move, or to speak. “Saw… Sawyer.” The words came out in a stoned and weak fashion, slurred. Maybe she was just super drunk? It was all a bad dream?

[James "Sawyer" Ford]

Hearing her say his name, her voice so tiny and weak, Sawyer’s brow furrowed, a pained expression on his face. What did they do to her? Whatever she had said, whatever she had thought she’d seen, did it really deserve this? Feeling anger welling up within him anew, he turned toward a sound behind him to find the nurse setting a chair up for him several feet from Claire’s bed. Another warning look, don’t move the chair any closer, and had it not been for the squirming child in his arms the southerner might have lit right into the larger man even as he stepped back to the door.

Clenching his jaw, Sawyer slowly took a seat. Lowering his eyes to Aaron momentarily, he moved the baby carefully, as if the slightest jarring could harm the precious cargo. He sure as hell hoped he wasn’t doing more harm than good bringing the kid here.

“Howdy Mamacita,” the conman drawled with forced levity. Turning his attention back to Claire, he forced a smile though it came out awkward and lopsided due to the swelling in his lip. Hurt like hell, too. “Someone here wanted ta see ya, and he just wouldn’t shut up ‘til I gave in.”

[claire littleton.]

“Hi.” Claire spoke out weakly, her eyes trying to adjust. She sounded horrid, as if she’d been in a coma the past eight years and pulled through right before they were to pull the plug. Her throat was dry and she was crackly. Seeing Sawyer… And Aaron… He’d brought Aaron – Aaron was okay! Claire shut her eyes for a moment still trying to adjust the light. “T…Thank you.” Slowly her eyes opened again as she looked at the two.

“What happened?” She questioned. All she remembered was screaming with Jack about being an unfit mother and then two men approaching her – with … Well, it got hazy from there. “Where am i?” Words couldn’t express how happy in actuality she was to see James and Aaron, while he was the last person she might of expected to see, at the moment, no one better could have been picked.

Not to mention he’d brought her son, who was safe, and in her eyes, in good hands. “Is he okay?”

{Sorry, a little stumped at how this should flow so far.}

[James "Sawyer" Ford]

Hearing those two words, two simple words that meant so much, Sawyer had to look away, his eyes falling to the baby in his arms. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had thanked him for anything, the last time he had done something worthy of gratitude. His whole life he’d only done things that would benefit him. He wouldn’t let himself get close to anyone because he couldn’t get hurt if he didn’t let them in. But somehow, back on the Island, things had changed. People had managed to weasel their way into his heart and since he had been back he had done nothing but neglect them, too caught up in his own problems to give a damn about their’s.

Aaron looked up at him, the baby’s eyes so big and trusting, his mouth moving sloppily over one tiny clenched fist. Sawyer couldn’t even fathom everything he was feeling at that moment. There was anger for sure; how could Jack have done this, taken this kid’s mother from him? But he couldn’t direct his anger only at Jack, and that was the most irritating part. Maybe he hadn’t made the call, but he could have helped Claire. He could have stopped this.

Beyond the anger, though, there was much more. There was genuine sadness, caring, realisation, pain... it was almost too much to deal with.

Then the questions started. The third one was easy, but the first two... damn, he didn’t want to have to explain this. Best to start with the easy one.

“He cries, he smells, he slobbers... kinda like a dog. If that’s normal then I guess he’s fine." Hooking Aaron’s hand with one finger, Sawyer gave it a gentle tug, looking slightly disgusted at the string of drool that hung from the little fist to the baby’s mouth, but even more so when Aaron wrapped that slimy hand around his finger and proceeded to suck on it instead.

[claire littleton.]

Claire’s face shifted slightly as she moved up an inch to get a better look at Aaron and Sawyer. Nothing had changed, and she was relieved. Aaron looked the exact same as he did the night she was taken away from him thanks to Doctor Jack – the high and mighty asshole who had his head stuck up there. Claire still couldn’t get over the fact of the situation she was in when she looked around as the drugs slowly wore off now and then. Now however, they weren’t going to wear off in the slightest. When her eye lids felt like elephants, that was a sign she was incredibly sedated – despite how much she didn’t want to be.

Claire wriggled a bit as Sawyer began to speak, a forced lopsided smile fell across her lips. “I hope he’s not being trouble.” Claire slurred quietly, knowing damn well she’d take him on his worse days. When he had a fever, was cranky or just feeling sick. Claire would take the constant cries and screams magnified a thousand times over being apart from him for so long – not being able to touch her own sun – her own flesh and blood.

“Thank you, James.” She muttered trying not to talk as loud as the last time noting how much it’d hurt her mouth – how much her tongue felt like sand paper scrapping across her teeth. “Thank you for keeping him safe… and away from Jack.” The hated tone that clung onto Jack’s name was unbelievable and the con man in front of her had absolutely no idea how much this mean to her.