Name: Bring on the Rain
Author: Amber
Disclaimer: Nothing of Lost belongs to me, unfortunately, not even Sawyer cries
Rated: PG-13
Shippers: Sawyer/Kate, Charlie/Claire, Sayid/Shannon
Status: WIP
Additional information: Takes place after "Numbers" and before "Deus Ex Machina". Some things may be out of place, like when exactly Sawyer got his tent back. Just try to follow through with the rest of the story and it should be fine.
Chapter One
Of Dreams and Memories
The rain was coming down in steady sheets. Distant thunder roared every few minutes, accompanied by the occasional flashes of lightning. Sawyer lay in his two-bit tent and listened to the rain patter away on the blue tarp above his head. He had finally managed to get the tarp back from that possessed boar earlier in the day. He had just managed to set it back up before the rain had started. There had been all kinds of rips and tears in it. He had tried to patch them up as best as he could, but, as a drop of rain fell on his bare chest, he knew he had missed some spots. He groaned to himself and muttered a few curses. His two-bit tent was not only uncomfortable and cramped, but it was now leaking as well.
Great, I should have killed that damn boar when I had the chance, he thought moodily as he shifted to one side. He knew killing the boar wouldn't have helped his predicament now and he knew he wouldn't have killed it anyway. He let out a sigh and tried to go to sleep as another drop of rain landed on his shoulder. Several minutes passed and he closed his eyes, trying to picture himself back home in Tennessee. It didn't seem to be working as the wind started howling and the leak multiplied into many. He let out another groan and sat up, hoping the tent wouldn't fall on top of him. He tried to move to a spot where a leak wasn't at. He found such a spot on the other side of the tent and used a suitcase for a pillow. It wasn't the most comfortable of spots, but he had been in worse places. He closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep for what felt like the millionth time that night. He shifted around a bit, but finally got settled. Within ten minutes he was snoring away. He twisted and turned in his sleep as he dreamed and remembered . . .
'Come on, James. Do you have your jacket on yet?' Laura called from downstairs.
'Almost!' a 5-year-old boy with blonde hair and blue eyes said as he ran down the stairs. 'Here, let me zip you up,' his mother said as she bent down and zipped his blue jacket for him. 'Let's put your shoes on and then we'll be good to go.' 'Can we go to the park?' James asked. 'Sure, honey, just as soon as mommy goes to the bank and post office. Then we can stay for as long as you want,' Laura said as she tied his shoes. 'Yay!' James said as his mother finished tying his shoes. He took off for the door. 'Don't forget your hat!' It's windy outside,' his mother said as she put a blue sock hat on his head.
The dream began fading, changing to another happy memory.
James Jr. sat at a table with a cake that was surrounded by presents. The cake was lit with six candles. He was sitting on his knees in a chair and his mother and father were behind him.
'Ready to blow out those candles, son?' his father asked as he ruffled his son's hair. 'Yeah!' James said, laughing. 'All right then. Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,' his mother started singing as his father joined in. 'Happy birthday to James! Happy birthday to you!' 'And many more!' his mother sang out as James blew out his candles. 'Can I open my presents now?' James asked as his father plucked the candles from the cake. 'You sure can, sweetie, and after you've opened those mommy and daddy have a surprise for you in the guest room,' his mother said. 'Is it a new bike?' James asked. 'You'll have to wait and see,' his mother said as she smiled to James Sr.
The memory faded out again, this time to be replaced with another that was anything but happy.
There was a graveyard with a handful of people standing around a grave with a tent over it. A little 8-year-old boy was standing beside two mahogany caskets in his Sunday's best. --The Priest was reading from a prayer book with three altar servers beside him. The little boy had tears in his eyes as he stared at the caskets, wishing he was someone else. The few people that were there gave him sympathetic looks, but curiously looked at the large envelope in his little hands. James ignored them and clenched the letter tighter as Father Tim said the last prayers over the bodies. James had written the letter that was in the envelope the night before. He had promised his dead parents that he would find Mr. Sawyer and tell him exactly what he had done to them. He hurriedly wiped away the tears from his eyes as Father Tim closed his book and blessed the two caskets with the holy water that one of the servers were holding. He then handed his book to another server and got a miniature cross. He looked over at James and began walking towards him.
'I'm afraid that it's time to say goodbye now, James. But I would like you to have this, in remembrance of your parents,' Father Tim said as he bent down and handed James the cross. James took the cross with a shaking hand and clenched it tight to his chest beside the envelope. Father Tim stood back up and went to the altar servers. James continued to stare at the caskets. After a few seconds he took a few steps closer to the caskets and knelt down beside them. 'B-Bye . . . mama . . . Bye d-daddy . . . I-I promise . . . I'll t-tell him daddy . . . tell him what he did to you . . .' James mumbled quietly, his chest heaving and his eyes filling with tears that streaked down his cheeks. 'Now, now, James. It'll be all right,' a woman in a dark blue dress said as she walked up beside him. James looked up at her through his tears. Everyone else was now departing around him. The woman smiled down at him and offered her hand to him. He took it and slowly stood up. 'I know it's hard, but you'll have a blast at the shelter. You don't even have to stay there long. Your grandparents will get full custody of you soon and then you can live with them,' the woman, who had introduced herself to him earlier as Melanie, said.
'NO!' Sawyer yelled as he woke in a cold sweat.
He looked around him and saw that he had only been dreaming, or remembering rather. He closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. He opened his eyes again and looked upwards. He could clearly see the rips and tears that he hadn't managed to mend now and saw that it was daylight outside. He closed his eyes again, trying to get the image of his parents' caskets out of his mind.
'Sawyer?' a female voice asked.
Sawyer opened his eyes as he recognized Kate's voice.
'Sawyer, are you okay?' Kate asked.
'Yeah,' Sawyer grumbled.
'A couple of us heard you shout. Everything all right?' Kate asked.
Sawyer could see her silhouette outside of his tent.
'Everything's as peachy as it can be when you're stranded on an island, sweetness,' he said in a sarcastic voice.
'Why do I even bother?' Kate muttered to herself.
Sawyer saw her shadow move and heard her start to walk back from where she had came. He let out a deep sigh.
There you go being a jackass again, a voice in the back of his mind commented sadly.
Oh, just kiss it, he thought back angrily.
The first voice was right, though. He had, once again, just popped off to the only person on the island that he could relate to. He knew Kate was only annoyed at him and not angry, but one of these days his smart mouth would make her mad. It was all a matter of time. Where would he be then? Probably talking to the dog to keep him company because no one else wanted to talk to him. Knowing that it wasn't in his nature to apologize to anyone, he got up. He didn't notice his letter fall to the ground as he grabbed his shirt, a pack of cigarettes, and a lighter on his way out.
He walked out of his tent to be engulfed by sunshine. The signs of the storm the night before had all but disappeared, being replaced with sunshine and a slight wind. He put his shirt on and looked around, trying to find Kate. He had no clue where she had went and there were too many footprints in the sand to make any difference. He knew she stood around the ocean and watched the waves a lot, so he headed that way. He passed by several people that were just getting up. Some looked his way and gave him anything but nice looks. He just smiled his dimpled smile and kept walking, taking out a cigarette from the pack and lighting it up. He exhaled a cloud of smoke as he heard someone run up behind him. He turned around and saw that Walt and Vincent were behind him.
'Hey, Mr. Sawyer! My dad was wondering if you had any more wire for the boat?' Walt asked.
'I think some's in my tent. You haven't seen Kate, have you?' Sawyer asked before taking another drag on his cigarette.
'She went back to the caves,' Walt said.
Sawyer nodded in reply, turned around, and started walking in a different direction.
'Can we go get the wire now?' Walt called out to Sawyer's retreating form.
'Knock yourself out,' Sawyer said as he continued walking, tipping his ashes into the wind.
--The funeral was set as a Catholic funeral. Most of the time suicides are looked on as a disgrace for the church. However, sometimes there can be changes made, so I had it as if they let it go anyway since Laura didn't kill herself or anything. If you're not Catholic then most Catholics are familiar with saying "Father" before the priest's first or last name. Altar servers are at funerals. They just more or less help Father out with setting up the altar and holding the book for him, etc. etc. I'll have you also know that there is a priest called Father Tim. He's the priest at my church and I'm also an altar server, although the funeral I wrote about is a poor example of how a Catholic funeral normally goes, but oh well.