Pairings: Jack/Sawyer, Kate/Sawyer, Ana/Eko
Summary: All he has to offer is his hands.
Spoilers: Up through "The Other 48 Hours" and promos for "Collision"
Word count: 403
Note: For fanfic100 prompt "Shapes."
Feedback: Going unbetaed once more. Just wanted to get this idea out there. So, yes please!
He steps out of the hatch, just for a minute. He needs air.
Jack’s staggered by the coolness that meets him. It's hard to believe this is still going on, dark night and brilliant cold stars and the pulsing throb of the island all around him. The jungle sprawls out in all directions. The low murmur of insects, the scent of distant fires. It feels unreal.
He has no idea how long he's been working over Sawyer. Hours. Days. The lights in the hatch make it eternally daylight. The same day. A day that won't end until ... he stops himself from completing that thought.
Nothing left to do for Sawyer. Nothing left. He's hollowed out. Given everything he has. Out of his hands now.
Sawyer’s been dying for days. It’s too late, he thinks with one breath, and with the next, he tells himself there’s still hope.
He leaves Sawyer with Kate. She begged him to let her help and this is all he can let her do. She doesn't wait until he's left to climb into bed with Sawyer, to hold him against her and rock him and speak to him in low, reassuring tones, as if he were her child. Or her lover.
It won't help. Sawyer can't hear her. Can't feel her.
He thinks numbly that he needs rest, that he should turn back inside and sleep. He's no good to anyone like this.
His legs propel him forward, even as he decides he shouldn't go far.
He stops when he sees a patch of bare skin, dark in some spots, pale in others. He doesn't know what he's seeing at first, until he hears sobbing. The shapes before him suddenly pull apart and he realizes what he's been seeing. Eko is holding Ana in his arms and she's crying.
He wants to run at them, scream, draw blood.
Instead he backs up, as quietly as he can. He's intruding. He's not welcome here, not needed back in the hatch.
Not knowing why he does it, he stays and watches these two strangers - brutal people who’ve hurt and killed his friends - watches how Eko cradles Ana. In his massive arms, she seems fragile, tiny. Broken.
He looks down at his own arms. It should be him in there, holding Sawyer.
All he has to offer is his hands. Even if he had his arms to give, it wouldn’t be enough.