Summary: Sawyer saves Jack from a polar bear attack, smut ensues (eventually)
Rating: PG for polar bear-related violence, language
Note: Did someone ask for a polar bear attack-Jack/Sawyer smut fic? Why yes, demonickiwi did! Here you go! I was already kicking around an idea to put Sawyer in harm’s way (again!) and have him save someone’s life, so this fit the bill. Also a bit of an homage to the godawful TV movie Sabretooth, which I sat through just for Josh Holloway. (And it was worth it, damn it!)
Feedback: Makes me purr!
Sawyer let out a low whistle when he saw the garden plot. The dirt was torn up as thoroughly as if someone had gone over it with a back hoe, only not so neatly. The thing was a total loss. He’d seen Sun out here, optimistically planting seeds, tending the little green shoots that peeked through. It was a darn shame, he was thinking, right before someone tackled him. They both hit the ground hard, nearly knocking the breath out of Sawyer.
“Hey!” he shouted at the jerk, whoever it was. Too heavy to be Kate this time. It had to be ... “Well, if isn’t Jackass himself,” Sawyer marveled after he realized it was the doctor sitting on top of him.
“How could you, Sawyer?” Jack said, his face puckered up in its usual expression of disapproval.
“How could I what?” Sawyer snorted. “Draw breath? Whistle too loud for you? What is it this time?”
“The garden,” Jack said, indicating the ruined patch of ground. “Why did you do it?”
“Me?” Sawyer said, his voice rising in indignation. “So now I’m to blame for everything that goes wrong in this fucking place? I got news for you, Jacko, I didn’t touch the damn garden. Now would you get the fuck off me?”
Jack sat back, but he didn’t budge. “You’ve been seen up here, Sawyer. There’s no point in lying about it.”
“So what if I was here? That doesn’t mean I bulldozed the damn thing. Why the hell would I want to do a thing like that?”
“I don’t know, Sawyer,” Jack sighed, switching to his weary, concerned face. “Do you ever need a reason?”
Sawyer gave Jack a hard shove, succeeding in knocking him to the side. He stood up angrily. “Think what you want, but it wasn’t me. There’s wild animals on this fucking rock, you know. Maybe it was one of them.”
Jack considered this with narrowed eyes while he got to his feet. “So what were you doing up here?”
”I don’t need a reason, remember?” Sawyer said sarcastically.
“Sawyer!” Jack said impatiently. “Why can’t you just tell me?”
“Why should I?” Sawyer said. He was itching to punch that superior look off Jack’s face. If Hero Boy pushed him just a little more, he was going to pop him one.
“I’m not going to believe it wasn’t you otherwise,” Jack said, managing to sound vaguely threatening.
Sawyer glowered at him. “So you’re gonna get the bamboo sticks out about this?” he asked. “Fine. I was ... plantin’ somethin’ of my own.” He dropped his eyes as he muttered the last few words.
Jack didn’t conceal his surprise. “You? Planting something? What?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Sawyer said through gritted teeth, wishing Jack would shut up.
“Yes, it does,” Jack pressed. “What was it?”
“Drop it, doc.”
“No,” Jack said firmly, beginning to smile now that he saw how embarrassed Sawyer was acting.
“Aw hell, tobacco, OK?” Sawyer said with an exasperated sigh. He held up his hand to stop any protest from Jack. “I know, I know, I don’t have any seeds, just some leaves, but I thought, what the hell, you know? There’s some weird voodoo shit happening on this island. I thought maybe I might get lucky.”
“Tobacco?” Jack laughed, enjoying how uncomfortable it was making Sawyer. “Only you would think of that.”
“Right, which is why I did it,” Sawyer said, glad to hear Jack making his point for him.
“OK, I believe you,” Jack said. “But then who, or what, did this?”
“Search me,” Sawyer answered with a shrug. “It’s hardly the biggest mystery so far, like what about...” His eyes went wide. “Polar bear!” he gasped.
“Right, we still don’t know ...” Jack started to answer.
“No! Right there. Fuckin’ BEAR!” Sawyer shouted, pointing over Jack’s shoulder. “Comin’ right the fuck at us!” Jack turned and saw the creature bearing down on them.
Jack grabbed up his pack and both men ran, sprinting over the uneven ground in the opposite direction of the bear. It was gaining on them, moving extremely fast for such a large animal.
Sawyer had the lead and he could hear Jack panting close behind him. The tall green grass blurred past as they ran full tilt, not even turning to see if the animal was still behind them or not. Sawyer heard a cry and a thud. He stopped in mid-stride and turned around. Jack had disappeared.
“Jack!” Sawyer shouted. Shit! The bear was still headed for him. Where the hell had Jack gone to?
“Sawyer!” came Jack’s frightened voice. “Over here! Something’s got my leg!”
“Fuck,” Sawyer swore, taking in the furry white mass coming closer by the second. And this time he didn’t have a gun. “Where are you?!” he bellowed, trying to pinpoint Jack’s location by his voice.
“Here! Over here!” Jack called frantically. Sawyer nearly tripped over him. Jack was lying on the ground, with a metal trap around his right foot. “I can’t get it open,” he said, his face white with fear.
Sawyer swallowed. “OK,” he said as he knelt and tried pulling at the metal teeth gripping Jack’s ankle. The thing wouldn’t budge. In a few seconds, the bear would be on top of them. Jack looked at Sawyer, fear and resignation in his eyes. “Go!” he yelled at him. “You can’t do anything for me! Get the fuck out of here!”
“Fuck that,” Sawyer said. He rummaged in Jack’s pack, grinning when he found a knife. “It’s not like this is the first bear I ever faced down," he said as he got to his feet.
“Sawyer!” Jack yelled in desperation as Sawyer walked towards the bear, placing himself between the trapped doctor and the rampaging beast. Sawyer brandished the knife in his right hand, in his left he held Jack’s backpack up like a shield.
The bear came at Sawyer teeth first, biting deep into the backpack he thrust into its face and just missing his arm, but the force of the impact sent Sawyer sprawling underneath the crazed animal.
Sawyer thrust the knife upward, aiming for the bear’s throat. He drew blood, but now the creature was completely enraged. It roared and raked his chest with its long claws, and Sawyer gasped at the shockingly sharp pain. He made another pass with the knife, as the bear slavered in his face, all teeth and hot, foul breath.
He plunged the knife in with all the strength he could muster, feeling it hit sinew and bone. He pulled hard, but the knife wouldn’t budge. As he swore and tried again, the animal sunk its teeth deep into his right forearm. He screamed. The pain was incredible. He was sure it was going to bite right through his arm.
Drawing on reserves of strength and fury he didn’t know he had, he started battering the beast with the backpack, still clutched in his left hand. The bear snarled and turned its head in the direction of this new attack, ripping the pack to shreds.
Somehow, Sawyer managed to get the knife out with his injured arm. It was his last chance, and he knew it. He grabbed the polar bear's jaw with his left hand and drew the knife across its throat with the other. With a drawn-out groan, the creature collapsed heavily on top of him, blood from its severed throat pouring onto Sawyer’s face.
It gave a last whimper, shuddered, and was still.
“Sawyer!” Jack yelled.
“Still ... here ...doc,” Sawyer said wearily. “I just need .... a ... minute ...”
“Are you hurt?” Jack’s voice was full of concern.
“I’ve felt ... better,” Sawyer replied. Now that the adrenaline rush from the attack was ebbing, the pain from his arm and the scratches on his chest was beginning to scream along his nerves. And he was pinned under the dead bear. “This damn thing weighs ... a ton,” he said. “I don’t think ... I can ... move it.”
“Let me see if I can come to you,” Jack said. Sawyer heard some rustling and swearing, followed by pained-sounding grunts.
Out of the corner of his eye, Sawyer could see Jack’s arm reaching out to him. “That’s as close as I can get,” Jack said, frustrated.
Sawyer put his left hand out, wincing as he felt the stretch across his wounded chest. His fingers just brushed Jack’s. With a little more effort, he was able to grab his hand. He started to laugh. “This would be hysterical if it weren’t so fuckin’ painful,” he managed to gasp between breaths.
“How bad is it?” Jack asked, with a sympathetic squeeze.
“Not so bad...” Sawyer said with a grimace, but his fierce grip on Jack’s hand said otherwise.
So how fanfic-y is that? Ha! I love plot bunnies!
Read the other chapters here.