A/N- I know its not part of the unrelated-related series of songfics…but I was watching the Kiss and basically staring at Sawyer when I got real inspired….so here it is.

The Battle Within

"He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster." - Nietzsche

When he woke up in the morning there were two men in his head, Sawyer and James. James had long since been beaten down by the overwhelming forces of Sawyer and guilt. It wasn't that he was dead; he peeked out of his cage occasionally to help Sawyer from becoming Sawyer and not merely a mask of him. Like when he saw the kids, when he saw his victims' kids James popped out of told him to drop the money and get the hell out.

"You're not like yourself anymore, James." His aunt had chastised him when he'd dared to come home for Christmas a few years back. Who was he to argue? She was right; he was just ashamed that someone else knew.

James had gotten quiet after his parents died. Died. That's a funny thing to call a murder-suicide. That's what he had to tell people all through school, "My folks died". And most of them were local kids, so they knew the truth. They knew he was the James Ford who's daddy came home one night and shot his wife before decorating the wall with his brains.

Hell, he had, from kindergarten straight through to High School, sat next to the son of the Sheriff who had found him crying under his bed. Goddamn alphabetizing.

James was quiet because a lot of things changed when your parents were dead, and a lot of things changed when you got a crazy in the family. And when you got a crazy parent who kills the other parent and themselves, well….everything changes. His dates, few that there were, could never meet his mother who would show them all sorts of embarrassing baby photos and his daddy would never sit down to explain exactly how to treat a woman.

But considering how his daddy decided to treat them, maybe that was a good thing.

He hadn't been a popular kid, he'd been scrawny and morose and mean-tempered from age eight to eighteen. It was Senior year of High School when some little chit of a girl in the band thought that he was something to coo over.

And he needed to be cooed over.

Thus did James get his first girlfriend, and treated her like any infatuated eighteen year old treats a girlfriend…like he's a lost puppy that needs to follow her around and hold her hand and buy her things and drive her places. He thought he loved that girl, thought they were going to get married and have a farm and a bunch of kids one day. When he lost his virginity he thought he was losing it to the only woman he'd ever fuck from here on in to death do us part.

When she got pregnant, he was excited.

Then she wanted an abortion.

Well…who the hell was he to tell her how to treat her body? And she told him so! She wanted him to pay for an abortion.

So he did and followed her around like a kicked puppy.

But by then he was in debt. He wasn't living at home and the price of bills, gas and the abortion had put him in the red like he couldn't believe. The Ford family were not well enough off to be giving charity back to the extra-mouth that had just moved out, and James wasn't one to beg.

Even then he had the letter. He didn't carry it around on his person, but he kept it safe and it's purpose was clear: to stay with him until he gave it to Mr. Sawyer and spat in his face.

It used to be he wanted to kill that son of a bitch, but it had died down inside of him to where he just wanted the man to feel guilty, to know that he had ruined a life.

But James' own life was in such ruin that he didn't have a thought to spare to Mr. Sawyer. He couldn't go to college, his job was dead-end and paid shit and he was up to his eyeballs in I.O.U.s and bills. It was late one night, reading the letter and half crazed with frustration, that he wondered aloud why this had happened to him, why had Mr. Sawyer done that to his family and left James to rot?

Then it dawned on him: Money.

The con man had wanted money, and he got it. He had used James' mother to get to his father's money, what little there was.

No, don't you even dare think a god-awful thing like that you sorry son of a bitch! He told himself, refused to let the thought creep in.

So he started walking down the street to a bar he knew of that was shady enough to not card him provided he paid for his drinks and nearly got hit by a car. A nice car. New Mercedes. The woman driving was so shaken up about almost hitting him that she got out and fussed over him. And he couldn't help but notice that she was wearing a diamond engagement ring half the size of Texas.

He must've look older, or just looked good enough that she didn't care, and she insisted on buying him a drink. And this was a nice drink at a nice joint. She got him a Johnny Walker Black Label, on the rocks and took one for herself. After about four visits from ol' Johnny she was giggling and talking too much.

"You are such a handsome young man, James…I bet your something in the sack."

"M'am?" James didn't know how to respond, but a little devil on his shoulder said to play along, just play along.

"My Harold is shit in bed. But I didn't marry for sex, I married for this." She shoved that giant engagement ring in his face, "He's loaded, more then six million, and he's the most neglectful bastard I've every met. Never says he loves me, never kisses me, just brings me around all his other fat, balding friends to show me off."

"M'am, I-"

"Call my Cynthia…M'am makes me sound like I'm old enough to be your mama, and I know I ain't."

"Cynthia, I think we should get a cab."

She cocked an eyebrow, "I think you have a point there, James."

James had meant that he thought she should go home and avoid driving; she meant that they should have sex in the back of a cab.

Well…she was trying to, and he wasn't exactly saying no. When she directed the cab to her mansion, he sure as hell wasn't going to say no. And he wasn't going to tell her he was an eighteen year old bum. He was starting to listen to that little devil on his shoulder.

When they woke up the next morning, he got dressed. She asked him to stay for breakfast. Next thing he knew he was seeing her a few times a week. His money problems didn't improve and he didn't like Cynthia. She was pretty and damn good in bed, but he didn't like her. But he knew why he kept seeing her.

Evil thoughts were in his head, just bobbing around the back of his mind.

One morning he was pulling on his old tee-shirt shirt when he got so fed up with life he just swore.

"What is it, sugar?" Cynthia purred.

The lie shot out of his mouth before he could control it, before he could even think, "It's just that I'm late for a real important meeting and I ain't dressed proper for it. I'm gonna have to cancel, less I wanna show up lookin' like a bum."

"What kind of meeting?" She got out of bed and crossed to a closet, she pulled out a shirt and a tie, and said, "Why don't you borrow these? Harold won't know there missing and I won't be responsible for you showing up somewhere important looking like a bum."

"Thank you," As he buttoned up the shirt and knotted the tie, James first let Sawyer take the reigns, "I'm seeing a man about an idea sure to make me a wealthy man. He's in the car business and his mechanic just died and left a beautiful '65 mustang in perfect condition. Got a racin' motor and a brand new set of tires…I tell you that car is something."

"Is it something? I remember the year that car came out…it was a beautiful thing."

Sawyer slinked up to her and said, "You're a beautiful thing."

She smiled, "So why are you seeing this guy about the car? Don't he want it?"

"Oh he wants it, but he can't have it. Can't buy or inherit from employees or some fine print crap. So I'm going to buy it and sell it and split the price with him….assuming I can scare up the money to buy it."

"Well, how much is it?"

"Mechanic's widow wants five thousand dollars for it, she don't know what it is she got and she's got bills to pay."

Cynthia chewed her lip, "How much are they worth on the open market?"

"Fifteen…twenty thousand. It's an easy way to make money, and it don't come along too often." He flashed a smile and kissed her, told her he'd meet her later and sped off.

James was frozen in place, but the devil went on like he conned women everyday. In fact, he did. James knew who this devil was. This was the man he'd hated since he was eight years old. This was the man responsible for the death of his mother and father. This was the man who broke up a happy family just for money.

This man was Sawyer.

James went home and took a cold shower. He burned the shirt and tie, thinking they were tainted by Sawyer. He was assaulted by more bills and more debt, he owed more then six thousand dollars.

Without realizing what he was doing he went to a payphone and called Cynthia.

"Baby, can you come to the bar off Lanyard Street? I need to talk to you about something, I got a big favor to ask."

And his legs brought him there and waited for her and when she showed up he wove a big sob story. The widow's little baby was sick and the asking price was up to seven thousand dollars. But the silver lining was that he found a man who would pay thirty for the car, a real rich guy with a love for the car. Now all he needed was the money and he could get fifteen grand easy as pie.

But things were tight; he hated to ask but….

She wrote the check then and there.

After paying his bills, his rent and squaring things up with a couple of friends, he put everything he valued in a backpack and walked out of his apartment in Tennessee.

Sawyer had just gotten his first taste of life on the shady side of the street.

And the next time money was tight, James gave up dominion again.

After the first few jobs he was numb, but after the first few years he was burning. Burning with a hate for himself that ran into the deepest parts of him. He was disgusted with every cent he made. He wanted to choke on every kiss he gave.

After the first few jobs, he couldn't say his name anymore. James…James was a victim of this game. Sawyer was the player and Sawyer he became.

The strangest thing happened, every time he conned someone, the more like Sawyer he became, the closer he held the letter he had written as a child. Soon he was carrying it around in his pocket everywhere he went. And it was no longer to remind him of the guilt he wanted Sawyer to feel, it was to remind him of the man he was going to kill. Because Sawyer had done more damage then ruining James' family, now he had ruined James himself and he would be a piss-poor Ford if he didn't wreak some kind of bloody revenge.

The battle within his head and his heart wound up making him into what most people politely termed an asshole. But he met one person who saw right through the act. She looked passed Sawyer and saw James struggling for air. She was as fucked up as he was, and he liked that about her. She didn't like Sawyer, she thought he was an ass…but she saw the outsider in him, she tried to get James to come out of his shell.

How many nights did he think about what it would be like to have her? To touch her? To taste her and claim her and teach her how to scream his real name? James always thought about Kate, she was the only other person who was intimately acquainted with two warring personalities. Problem was, Sawyer thought about Kate too, and Sawyer was a bit less secretive about it then James.

The day they tortured him…yeah that was the day. Not likely to forget that day soon. Sawyer had hardly broken a sweat, but James had been screaming in agony. But he wasn't going to tell them that he didn't have it. After what he had become, he deserved to be tortured.

Then Sawyer asked for her, said he'd tell her and only her. And he asked to kiss her.

But James was the one that got to kiss her.

He forced himself to the front and dismissed Sawyer to a watching position. He kissed her with everything he had, wanted to show her that she was right! There was a human buried under all that crassness! There was a man who left the cons behind!

She looked defeated, looked cowed.

Sawyer had disgusted her and ruined James' chance.

That's why he had to tell her, he couldn't bear to let one single lie pass the lips that had touched hers.

"I don't have it."

And in the moment it took for her to hear that….she truly hated him. At least Sawyer could never have her.

At least for one moment…she had belonged to James.

At least for one moment….that horrible battle had ceased.

A/N- Ok….so its crap! It's very stream-of-consciousness and pycho-rambling. I thought I liked it but it went somewhere unexpected….but I reigned it back in. Don't know if it worked but I tried and that's all I can do.

I started out really wanting to explore the difference between the Sawyer that started kissing Kate in "Confidence Man" and the Sawyer that was looking at her after the kiss, they definitely weren't the same Sawyer and if you don't believe me, watch the clip (though I'm sure you die-hard skaters know it well)

Please REVIEW!