Name: Big People Have Feelings Too

Credits: ABC owns Lost. ABC owns the rights. ABC owns the character. I don't own nuttin, poor me.

Rate: PG for some language

Character: Hurley Centric but includes Sayid/Claire/kate/Boone/Sawyer/Walt and Michael.

Warnings: Profanity.

Timeline: No timeline, just some meandering thoughts. The main reason for this is because I wrote this is because I looked through FF (dot) net and couldn't find a Hurley centric ff... Wuzzupwiddat??!!

It should also be noted that I don't know anything about anything. If I screw something up it's not because I'm dumb, just... well... is okay not to give a rip? I just like being creative.

EEK!! I forgot!!! There is a slight spoiler in the VERY last part between Claire and Hurley! BEWARE ALL THOSE WHO DON'T WANT TO KNOW!!! SKIP THE VERY LAST EXCHANGE!!!

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They stood around the fire in shock. The lungs of everyone gathered were void of breath. One consistent thought ran through their collective heads. He didn't just say that, did he? He didn't mean that... he couldn't have meant it... not about Hurley, not about OUR Hurley.

Kate looked at Sawyer, her face pale from the sheer shock of hearing the words that had come out of his mouth. Hurley looked like he had been sucker punched. She was the first one to snap out of the daze and cold cocked Sawyer with a hard left that he never saw coming. (Being a southpaw has it's advantages).

Her movement, and the consequential thud of Sawyers head on the sand snapped everyone one out of their revelry.

Hurley turned on his heel and walked away towards his shelter.

"Hurley! He didn't mean it!!" Kate called out after him, as she shook her tingling fist-- it had been a while since she punched someone.

"Yes he did! He wouldn't have said it if he didn't!!" He hollered over his shoulder as he grabbed his backpack and lumbered towards the jungle.

If Kate wasn't mistaken, she could have sworn the octave of his voice had risen. Could it be? Could their gentle giant also have a sensitive soul too?

"Hurley! Wait! At least let someone go with you!" She called out after him as she ran to get her own bag and follow him. But as soon as she turned on her heel to go she saw Claire, eyes wide and filled with tears take off after Hurley, running as fast of her condition would all.

"Claire!!" She cursed under her breath and hurried faster.

Jack and Sayid walked over to her. "What the HELL just happened?!" jack asked with a tinge of frustration in his tone.

She turned them sharply, tears of frustration reflecting her anger in her eyes. "Sawyer, that ASS hole, took it upon himself to bring EVERYTHING to the lowest common denominator and NOT ONLY INSULT Hurley, but by extension, he insulted Claire too... and that's where CLAIRE is too. Running AFTER Hurley. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go catch them before they BOTH do something rash, and drastic and .. And..."

Sayid held up his hand. "Hold up. Calm down first, Kate. You won't be doing him any good if you go off half cocked yourself."

She sat down on the sand, dropping her bag and putting her head into her hands. "I can't believe he said it... I swear... It startled everyone... not just Hurley..."

A commotion caught their attention. All three turned to see what was happening.

Sawyer was brushing off his jeans, and shaking his head. He hadn't meant for the big guy to get all emotional on him and run off!

How the HELL was he supposed to know that the big guy was going to take it personal? How was he supposed to know that he couldn't take a good quip... and it HAD been a good quip.

"I HATE you!" He heard a small, but angry, voice growl. He looked up and before he knew it he was back on his back on the sand and the kid... Walt, he was pretty sure was his name, was on top of his chest, pounding his pre-adolescent fists against his chest.

Now Sawyer was many things, but he there was one thing he would never do, and that was hurt a kid, no matter how bad the kid deserved it, or at least, how bad he THOUGHT he deserved it.

"Hey! What the HELL! Get OFF KID!" He growled, and tried to push the kid off of him by grasping onto his shoulders and pushing. But that only seemed to anger him more.

"I HATE YOU!! Why did you say that to him!! I HATE YOU!!" Walt kept hitting as tears fell down his cheeks.

Michael came up behind him and grabbed Walt around his waist and pulled him off of Sawyer.

He grabbed onto Walt's forearms harshly and knelt down on to his level. "Stop that. You can't just go around hitting people."

"I wasn't just HITTING him dad! You weren't here. You didn't hear what he said about Mr. Hurley." Walt cried angrily before pulling away and running off in the direction that both Claire and Hurley had gone.

"Oh shit!" He almost ran off after him, but first he turned to Sawyer, who was, once again, dusting himself off.

"I don't know what the HELL you said to upset my kid, but I swear to GOD, if he gets HURT or WORSE out in that damned jungle..." he paused, as a chill went down his own spine. "So help me, if something happens to my son OR Hurley OR that Claire girl..." he wagged his finger in front of Sawyers face and got into his face. "I will PERSONALLY knock your ass out, bind your arms and legs, gag that DAMNED yap of yours, HAUL your ass into the MIDDLE of that GOD FORSAKEN jungle, and let that... that... MONSTER or whatever is out that have YOU for it's next meal... GOT it?!"

Sawyer swallowed hard, he knew this man meant business. "Yeah, I got it."

"Oh goody! Now if you'll excuse me... I have to go out there and try to find my SON before some CREATURE makes lunch out of him." He glowered before turning on heel, grabbing his gear and setting off.

"Hold up! Michael!" Sayid called out and jogged to catch up with him.

"Listen, don't try to talk me out..."

"I'm not going to talk you out of it. Contrarily," he glanced into the noisy jungle before them, "I'm going to join you."

"Why?" He asked, a little dumbfounded.

Sayid shrugged as they both began to walk. "The first day, after the crash that is, I was pretty sure that no one was going to attempt to talk to the 'terrorist' amongst us." Michael stopped suddenly, shooting him a quizzical look. "No, my friend. Just because I am from Iraq, does not mean that I want the death alleged infidels... In fact, contrary to popular misconception, I believe that the terrorists are in fact the infidels."

"What happened to change your mind?" Michael asked as they continued on.

"I was going through the wreckage, looking for a radio and anything to boost the power of the radio, when Hurley walked up and sat down by me." He smiled a little, but just a little. "We talked. I told him things that under the best of circumstances would have sent the average American, or non-American, running-- but not Hurley. He just brushed it off. Let the sleeping dog lay, I guess the old saying goes, yes?"

Michael nodded. "Yeah, let sleeping dogs lay, yeah. So, you like, became friends..."

Sayid shrugged. "I don't know if we are friends. But," he stopped and turned to Michael. "I told Hurley that I had been a member of the Army. He asked which one, because he had a friend in 'Desert Storm'. I said the 'Republican Army', and Hurley didn't rush to judgment, or ask any questions. He just accepted that I was no longer part of that time in my life, and shook my hand." They continued walking. After a long pause, Sayid added. "Not many people would have shook the hand of a man that was working against his best friend in a war."

"No, not many would... I'm beginning to think there's a lot more to Hurley than just being a big loveable guy that says 'dude' a lot."

Sayid couldn't help but chuckle. "He does say 'dude' a lot, doesn't he?"

-----------------

Claire caught up with Hurley easily, as he wasn't running. He was just walking fast. They didn't talk, he just curled his chubby fingers around her dainty fingers and walked in silence, with her head resting on his arm.

"Do you think he meant it?" She asked as they walked, her voice tight with emotion.

Hurley squeezed her hand gently. "I don't know. I just had to get away. Maybe everyone would be better off if I just---"

"Don't say that." She cut him off, and stopped walking. She put her arms around his neck and gave him a hug. "We wouldn't be better off. I know I wouldn't be."

After the initial shock wore off, he hugged her back. She smelt like daisy's. How is it that she could still smell like daisy's after everything they've been through. "I don't know about that."

She pulled away and looked into his eyes. He found it deeply unsettling, her eyes that is. Her crystal clear blue eyes with dark rims at the edge of the iris. "I do. That first night, you gave me that extra platter."

Hurley blushed, his face becoming as red as his hair. "I -- I didn't think it was that much..."

"It was more than enough. It was the first time someone had been really worried about me, in fact, I happen to remember a certain someone making sure I didn't get blown to smithereenies by the jet that blew up, or have a big piece of debris squash me." She added with a giggle. "And then there was the time you carried me... And when boars came to the campground you..."

"Okay, okay, I get the drift. You would miss me." He rolled his eyes and pulled away, but her fingers found his once more as they continued to walk.

"I wouldn't be the only one... and you know, he was talking about me too."

Hurley let out a frustrated sigh. "He wasn't talking about you. You have an excuse. You're pregnant Claire, and you STILL don't weigh as much as I do."

"I'm just as awkward as you are though."

He shrugged. "But you haven't always been, and give a month or so, and you won't be."

They came upon a big rock and sat down. He opened his bag and grabbed two of the waters. He handed her one and opened one for himself.

"He just doesn't get it. I don't like being made fun of. It makes me angry. And I don't like it when I get angry. Because I'm... I--" he couldn't find the right words for it.

"Well it explains a lot about you, though."

He raised an eye brow. "That's EXACTLY what I'm talking about." She laughed, and pointed at him. "You raise an eyebrow, you quip, you make a joke, you laugh, you're dry and sarcastic, but not in a hurtful way."

He shrugged. "Lots of people are dry, like on the beach, they're all dry."

"SEE!! You're doing it again!!"

"Oh," his shoulders slumped a little. "It's a reflex I guess."

"More like a defense mechanism."

He nodded. "Yeah, I guess it is." He smiled as he turned to look at her. "No one seems to get it. Just because I'm fat doesn't mean I don't have feelings. I mean, I've been FAT my entire life and NO ONE seemed to care about the feelings of the big guy. They all assume that I'm fat therefore I have a thick skin. In school, kids were merciless. Because, not ONLY was I the FATTEST kid in school, I had freckles, AND red hair that is CURLIER than all hell." He shrugged, and took another swig of water. "So instead of getting made fun of, I started to make fun of myself. And eventually people expected it."

"I never realized..."

"What? That making fun of the fat kid with freckles and curly assed red hair isn't so much fun when you ARE said fat, freckled, curly red-haired kid?"

She touched her stomach as she looked away. "I'm going to raise my child be accepting of everyone, no matter their race or color or hair--"

Hurley laughed. "Hey, I'm the comedian!" He shook his head put the cap back on his water. "Don't usurp my place, okay. It's all I'm good at."

"Well, you're pretty good at protecting pregnant women, at least, if I do say so myself."

He chuckled. "Okay, so the next person that gets pregnant will be SAFE, oh rapture."

Impulsively, Claire leaned over and gave Hurley a kiss on his cheek.

"W-what was that for?" He asked, still stunned.

"For being the best pregnant woman protector I've ever met."

"You've met a lot of us?" he played along.

"Yeah, but none compare to you."

-------------------------

Boone walked by as Sawyer angrily marched over to his shelter. "How's it feel to be the most hated man on the island-- again?" He taunted.

Sawyer turned to him and hissed like a snake, bearing his teeth, which startled Boone so bad that he just walked away quickly.

"Where the HELL are you going?" Kate asked angrily as Sawyer shoved some water bottles into his bag and grabbed a knife for protection.

He whirled around to answer her. "Into the friggen jungle, Freckles. I started this, I put my foot in my mouth. I'm the reason that the preggers chick--"

"Her NAME is Claire!" She spat.

"Okay, I'm the reason Claire is in the jungle as well as EVERYONE favorite fatso-- CORRECTION!-- HURLEY, and that kid-- Walt, or whatever his name is, are in the jungle. I should be the one that apologizes SHOULDN'T I?!?!" He was pissed off. It wasn't suppose to be like this. He hadn't meant to insert his foot up his own ass. It had started out innocently enough. He and Hurley had been trading barbs, but Hurley had kept it on a level that wasn't condescending or rude. Sawyer, on the other hand, hadn't quite learned that fine art quite yet.

He had accidentally stepped over that imaginary, invisible line in the proverbial sand and it had gotten nasty. What had started out as something fun had quickly turned into a tirade of nasty demeaning verbal insults streaming out of his mouth as Hurley just stood there and took it. He wasn't sure why he kept on the assault of verbal sewage. Just that once he started it was as though his brain had left the building, the moderator had abandoned the edit button and ditched it's duties. He hadn't realized how far it had gone until he it had dawned on him that a crowd was gathering around the fire, and they weren't just spectators. Their mouths hung open in abject horror as Hurley just stood there, calmly, accepting the verbal assault as if nothing were wrong.

He cursed under his breath as he swung the backpack over his shoulder and headed towards the jungle.

He wasn't sure how he was going to make it up to Hurley, or to Claire for that fact... because at first he hadn't realized it, but his insults, while superficial for the most, could also be directed towards Claire. I crossed that imaginary goddamned line when I started in on the pregnant woman. What the HELL was I thinking. Ugh! Why didn't he slap me or kick me in the balls or something. Dammit! If any of them get hurt because of me, I'm a DEAD man!! He cursed as he walked into the eerie jungle of noises he couldn't explain and didn't want to understand.

He kept his hand on he butt of the dagger, just it case he needed it.

----------

Walt turned around in a circle. Panic settled over him, sweat beaded on his forehead, reminding him that he had left his water back at camp. Camp. Which direction was camp in again? What the heck was I thinking? He thought as he wiped the tears from his face.

He heard the rustling of bushes and turned around again. "Hurley? Claire?" He whispered. "Is that you?" He gulped as the rustling got closer.

He backed away. "Hurley? Claire?.... Dad?" He gulped as the rustling got closer and closer.

"HEEEELP!!!" He screamed and ran like a bullet into the jungle off the beaten path.

"HELLLLLP!"

--------

Claire swung her legs lazily as she rested her head on Hurley's shoulder.

"Can I ask you a honest question, Hurley?"

He shrugged. "Depends, you want an honest answer?"

"Uh... Yeah."

"Oh. Well. When you put it that way... how about you ask first, and then I'll tell you if I can give an honest answer, okay."

She gave him a playful pout. "Okay, but either way, I want an answer."

He chuckled at this. "I think I can manage that."

"Okay, here's my question. Hurley isn't your real name is it?"

"Wait, is that a question or a statement?" He queried quizzically.

"A question, silly!"

"Well, the answer is, yes, I can answer that honestly."

Her jaw dropped, she hit him in the arm playfully, but yet hard enough to rock him to one side a little.

"Now answer the QUESTION, silly!!" She prodded.

"I did! I did!! I said I could answer it honestly."

"Ooooh!" She growled, reached up and pulled on his ear.

"Hey! Hey! HEY!! That's ATTACHED Claire!!"

"Then answer the question. The SECOND one that I asked!" She giggled.

"Okay, okay, Uncle! UNCLE! I give, I give! I'll answer the question, just leggo my earlobe!"

She let go with a laugh, as he rubbed his earlobe.

"So, ya want to know my name, eh?"

"Yeah." She nodded.

"Well. First, you're right. Hurley's not my real name." He gave her a side long glance. "Ever heard the expression 'hurly burly'?"

Her brow furrowed. "I think me granmum may have used it once or twice when talking about my granda--" Her eyes widened. "Oh."

"Was your granda a 'big' guy?"

She nodded. "Ta da!" He exclaimed with an almost sad smile. "Kids in school used to use it as a taunt... but when I started answering too it..." he snorted. "that was a WHOLE other thing..."

She giggled a little, a hand covering her mouth. "What's your real name though."

"Ugh, you're really gonna make me tell you aren't you."

She nodded emphatically.

"Oy." He rolled his eyes. "Okay, but before I tell you, you have to PROMISE me two things. First, that you won't laugh at it, or secondly, that you won't EVER tell anyone -- especially Sawyer ." His emphasis on Sawyers name wasn't lost on Claire.

"I swear, I promise, I won't laugh, and Sawyer would be the last bloody bloke I'd ever tell such a thing too." She swore, offering her pinky.

He broke the pinky swear with a sigh. "As long as I have your word..." he grimaced. "Ugh, my real name is...You realize that if you ever-- even by accident-- call me this name I will NOT answer, don't you."

"I wouldn't dream of it Hurley."

He sighed again. "My real name is Hugo."

Her mouth dropped open to say something but he shrugged. "Can you IMAGINE the names I endured? 'Huge-O' 'Huge-One' 'Huge-Ugh'-- and the list goes on and on and ---"

His voice trailed as their ears were filled with Walt's scream.

They looked at each other. "Walt!" They gasped, jumping up and running towards his screams.

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This is my first "Lost" fic. If you like it, please review.

To be continued....

Please read and reply.