janie_tangerine: (lost sawyer gun)
[personal profile] janie_tangerine
So, today's Lost Riffs prompt was write about your least favorite character or one you don't like. Ruling out both Christian and Cooper, who I have already done and have no current ideas/desire to write, I started thinking and I found out that the two people I couldn't get at all were, well, Pickett and Kate. Having already tried Kate once, I left her a bit in the end and so, well...

Title: No Rewards Given
Rating: Pg13 for language
Characters/Pairings: Danny Pickett, Kate, some Danny/Colleen
Word counting: 1971
Disclaimer: Both of them are not mine and Darlton can keep them ;)
Spoilers: For 'Every Man for Himself'.
Summary
: Why does Pickett hate Sawyer so much?
A/N: .. hereby I present Danny Pickett centric fic. I realize I've taken a lot of liberties with him but canon lacks information. Written as sympathetically as possible. Also tried to explain myself Kate in that episode, since I'm no Sawyer/Kate fan and if she says she loves him I don't buy it really.



Danny Pickett was on the verge on graduating in engineering when he left the studies and had to find himself a job, and quickly. Sure, his family was wealthy enough to send him to study in another city, but they brought him up the old way and he wanted to be on his own as soon as possible.

He hadn’t been the most shiny apple in the crate, but he wasn’t a rotten one by any means. He studied hard enough, not breaking his head on it but enough to get good grades. The degree was a mere eight months away; he had chosen the subject because he knew that it was a good choice for finding work and even if he wasn’t particularly interested, there really wasn’t a subject in school he liked well enough to prefer it above all the others. Engineering was safe and it didn’t require too much effort, for him.

He had to find a job, though, and dropped out as soon as he heard the news from the furious, shaken voice of his old man.

A con man passing himself for a chartered accountant had conned his ma, taking advantage of her next to nothing knowledge of the stock market. But the matter wasn’t about the money they had in the bank; oh, it was mostly gone, sure. To get all the money this guy said he needed to triple it, she had put a mortgage on their house without even telling his old man, sure that when she showed up with her gain she would be able to estinguish it and with their current situation, it wouldn’t have been long before they didn’t have a place to stay anymore.

Danny dropped out without so much a thought, he had studied enough anyway to get a fair decent monthly income. He moved back with his parents, left the Mary girl he was with on campus because he sure didn’t have time now for romantic bullshit, found himself a construction site and worked his ass off.

Two years later they estinguished the mortgage, but he didn’t feel like going back to studying and there wasn’t money for it anyway. For the next fifteen years he tried three or four different jobs and at thirty-one years old he decided that progetting runways was what he was best at and he did so until he was thirty-eight. He worked for a company who moved his workers around; he still sent some money home and as long as they paid an apartment for him he was fine with moving. He never made friends with much people, or at least he never was up for more than a beer at the end of the day. He didn’t search for a girl, it meant stopping somewhere and he didn’t feel any need for it.

He was thirthy-eight years old when he read an announce on his morning newspaper where some company named Mittelos searched for a skilled runway engineer, offering a well paid job, much better paid than his own, no degrees needed.

Danny called the number and spoke with a nice, handsome guy who maybe was a litte too fruitcake for his liking, his name was Richard, who told him the job meant leaving the States. Pickett shrugged and told that as long as his parents got half of his income, it was fine. Richard told him the company was going to take care of it but that he wouldn’t have been able to be back until his job was done. Danny said okay, no problem.

A week later he was on the island and guessed that building a railway with rocks was going to take much more time than expected. But he liked the place alright and the nice, two-story house they gave him on the other island was just more than enought for him. And if there were people on two islands researching medical shit on one side and having a railway built on the another, it wasn’t his job to understand why.

--

There was a movie shown once per month.

Danny met Colleen while waiting for MASH to start.

Colleen was a lawyer, had the sweetest baby blues a man could lay his gaze on and her blonde hair fell into her shoulders in a cascade of soft and shiny curls.

Danny didn’t know why these people would need a lawyer, but it wasn’t his job to care for it. She was a funny girl, he found out he loved the sound of her laugh and she was nicer to him than most people had been in the last twenty years.

He invited her to dinner three days later, after accidentally stumbling into her while going to a common room in the evening; she excused herself and blushed just a bit, her usually pale cheeks flushing in warm pink, her lips, which were of a lovely natural shade of light red, turning slightly up. Danny said it was his fault and while he asked her his heart beat ten times faster than usual.

She fully smiled and said yes.

--

Danny and Colleen were married six months later, on the beach, on a lovely summer night. Impossibly enormous stars were shining over their heads and Colleen was so beautiful, her body enveloped in a white, soft cotton robe, her feet bare. Danny was dressed in white too, but he could tell it looked much better on her; they kissed, and it was sweet, and Danny knew he would be staying here also when the job was over.

If it ever was over, but that really wasn’t the matter.

--

A couple of years later, Ben wanted everyone to read the files of the 815 survivors, all of them. Danny had done so, finding them just plain, boring people, even if there was a strange incidence of people with issues with their old man which Danny bet couldn’t be explained statistically. He planned to ask Adam later, he was the statistic anyway. He had gone through ten files when he opened the one with the label James Sawyer Ford.

That was the only one he found interesting enough.

Also the only one which he wanted to tear into pieces before ending it.

The desire started after he read what Mr. Ford did on a warm, spring evening in 1987.

Oh, Danny had felt for him a bit; hell, when your old man kills your ma because a con man cons her, it’s the least one could do. And it wasn’t like Danny didn’t know the feeling.

But then the idiot went and conned a woman too, and then, well, became a fucking con. And to Pickett it was enough to despise this idiot’s guts. Because he had to work his ass off and drop out and everything because of a dirty con, but had never sunk that low. And if he could do it, anyone could do it.

When the file ended, Danny could only feel disgust.

--

He found out soon that this Ford not only is an idiot, but it’s also a damn fucking smartass. And, well, he wasn’t sure going to have him making his moves on his beautiful brunette in the mid of his railway.

First of all, he had hated the fact that Ford saw him and Cole speaking. Because one like him, who got to fuck up like that when he had all the reasons not too, wasn’t even meant to witness something he could have had if he had had enough brains to.

He decided Ford wasn’t going to fuck up in his railway the first time he shocked him; he didn’t feel guilty at all while hitting him in the head. No one kisses and makes up on his railway. Especially when it’s an idiot who decided to throw away his life before crashing on a plane.

Danny was sure not going to give him a second chance. If the girl Ford wanted it with was almost as bad choice as he was, Danny didn’t care.

--

He sees the line of her heart go flat and that shit of a doctor they brought for nothing declaring her dead.

Cole’s lips are pink-greyish now, and her skin is too pale, too pale. Danny feels sick, so damn sick he wants to throw up and he can’t.

They did it. Oh, if he only could lay his hands on that China girl he couldn’t remember the name for shit he’d so would, and even more than that. He can feel a dull, aching sensation building up inside him, a rage so strong he couldn’t even try to put into words, something that rips him from inside out and he can’t find a name for it, not at all.

He can’t believe it’s come to this. He had done everything right all his life best he could and Cole was his reward, or so he thought, or so he was sure.

And now she’s dead, dead, and that Ford fuck up is there, alive, in front of the girl he wants and that he’s probably going to get as soon as Ben carries up his little plan. Because, really, Ben only cares about his problems and everyone knows that those two are just leverage to get the doctor to do something.

Danny can’t bear it, not at all. It’s plain unfair, he thinks storming out of the room and going directly towards Ford’s cage.

He imagines he is the guy that conned his ma, when he first punches him. It isn’t difficult, thinking that Ford was a worse kind of con than the one who ruined his folks. At least, Danny’s only wanted the money; Ford’s kind destroyed families, if not worse.

The girl starts to get worried and he can’t bear to see that after he had just to witness something way, way worse. He punches Ford again and every drop of blood coming out of Ford’s mouth is relieving for him.

Then she yells Leave him alone and Pickett really wants to know why would she care about such a piece of trash.

“Do you love him?”, he yells, while giving Ford yet another punch and feeling a strange satisfaction when the blood runs over his skin, mixed up with rain.

She doesn’t answer, she says stop but he isn’t going to, not until she caves, not until she shows him that there’s something for which is worth to keep Ford alive. He screams it again.

Do you love him?, Danny screams. Every word is a blow and every blow is a relief he hadn’t felt even when the mortgage was extinguished.

--

Kate doesn’t love Sawyer. Not in that way.

She had thought it was clear. She doesn’t, she knows he does and she made it clear enough that Jack was who she wanted. Or at least what she had always desired a man to be. How she desired to be herself, at times.

Jack wouldn’t lie. Jack would stay on his position, Jack would say the truth, Jack would find a way out, Jack wouldn’t run from this, Jack would convince this guy to give up this nonsense without lying.

But Kate also knows that Sawyer is what she is like, and Sawyer would lie.

Yes, I love him! , she screams dropping on her knees and catching a sight of that tears on Pickett’s face.

He drops Sawyer and she can feel his cold skin under her fingers, sticky with blood. She hopes Sawyer was out before he could hear her.

But Kate has to admit to herself that she and Sawyer are really of the same kind and the way they are, the way she is, is the only thing she isn’t able to run from.

End.

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