Missing piece between 6x03 and 6x04.

Depressing and kind of gory, just to warn you.

"And in the dark, I can hear your heartbeat
I tried to find the sound
But then it stopped, and I was in the darkness,
So darkness I became."

- Florence and the Machine, "Cosmic Love"

James/Jim/Sawyer/LaFleur/Who the Fuck Even Knows Anymore follows The Thing That Is Not Locke because he has nowhere else to go, because he's stayed in that house too long. Because that Thing says that the yellow house was never his home (the lie poisons James/Jim/Sawyer/LaFleur until he almost wants to believe it, because then it was not his home with the yanked-up floorboards, the shredded curtains and the cobwebs in the corners, the same as the rooms where they loved each other).

He will go anywhere with this Thing as long as he doesn't go by the patch of jungle where he'd piled dirt onto her, the last thing he could do for her other than skip her ring (that was never her ring) across the water.

"Aren't you going to ask where we're going, James?" the Thing smirks at him, the green eyes twinkling just like Locke's.

"Thought we were goin' to Disneyland. Always wanted to ride the teacups," James/Jim/Sawyer/LaFleur mutters, and that's enough of that.

The maze of trees/vines/endless jungle starts to look familiar after awhile, and then he remembers that day he had Juliet had decided to have an adventure/tryst/picnic, snuck out past the damn pylons like they didn't know what was out in that jungle, so long as they could have sex under a waterfall or some stupid romantic/sweet/idiotic thing like that. Away from the screech of the walkies, Miles banging on the door, or any of a million manufactured crises from Horace.

And that day, almost, what? A year ago? Juliet had stopped on this path suddenly (Juliet, god, his stomach shrivels and James/Jim/Sawyer/LaFleur's heart contracts, he's not still alive here without her, is he? No no no no) and got very very still, still as a rabbit in that way only she could get. "Let's go another way, James," she'd said in a low voice.

It bugged him sometimes, that she still knew things/secrets/horrors/ways about this island he didn't, secrets she wouldn't give him (and she gave him everything, she gave her fucking life in the end and goddamn why didn't he go in after her, why didn't the bomb go off, why didn't the world just close over them all), secrets that left her muttering and twitching in her sleep some nights, curled against him, a swatch of her blond hair swirled around his shoulder.

James had been James back then, and James had gone along with what she'd wanted, but the Monday after, he'd taken a Jeep back out, telling himself he owed it to the security team to know exactly what was out there.

Except it was just a deep, grassy pit, an indentation where the land had been smoothed into a bowl.

Nothing of concern.

Now the Thing That Is Not Locke is taking James/Jim/Sawyer/LaFleur that way again, and James/Jim/Sawyer/LaFleur's feet keep going because his stupid fucking heart keeps on beating, which makes less sense than pretty much anything else in this jungle of mystery.

In the clearing, the Thing steps aside, nodding patiently at him. The bowl in the earth is still there, but as James/Jim/Sawyer/LaFleur steps forward jesusgod they're allINthere, a pile of jumpsuitsandBONES the tanoftheJUMPSUITSalmost thecolorofDIRT andhecanREADtheNAMES and that's Horace on the top jesusGOD, the hair and they're just mummified, gone almost intoDUST and his hands are on his knees, he's bent over and gasping and he looks up and the Thing is watching him.

"Ben tried to kill me, right here," the Thing says. "I was standing right where you are now, James. Ben shot me, and I fell into that pit."

"Yeah, so what?" he gasps out, trying to remember how to attack another human being/Thing when his insides are churning and godDAMNit those were his people, JulietSAID but she didn't say likeTHIS and sheKNEW but howhowhow were they supposed to change anything and was she always supposed to die and is James/Jim/Sawyer/LaFleur really supposed to even be here?

Is this Thing here at this pit to kill him?

"Walt appeared to me."

"The kid," James/Jim/Sawyer/LaFleur snaps, struggling to stand upright, lungs shriveled and aching noNOno his life is gone/over/continuing/what?

"He said to me, 'Get up, John, you still have work to do."

"You ain't John Locke," James/Jim/Sawyer/LaFleur growls/snarls/hisses/finally remembers anger, lunging toward him, but the Thing holds out a hand and somehow he stops mid-charge.

"And you aren't James, Sawyer, but you still have work to do."

"Well, I dunno about work, I ain't even paid taxes in thirty years," James/Jim/Sawyer/LaFleur snaps. Or tries to snap because howHOWhow...?

But.

Maybe.

Maybe that Thing is right, though. Maybe he isn't James anymore. Maybe he is. Maybe he still has work to do. Maybe it's all a con. Maybe he'll kill this Thing that can't be killed. Maybe he'll wake up tomorrow next to Juliet and this will all have been a nightmare. Maybe he'll be dead tomorrow. Maybe he'll get off this rock someday and see his daughter. Maybe Cassidy will slam the door in his face. Maybe he'll call and call and call. Maybe he'll put a bullet in his brain. Maybe he'll find Juliet's sister. Maybe he'll never cry again. Maybe he'll break shit until there is no shit left to be broken anymore, himself included. Maybe he'll remember how to live again.

The Thing That Is Not Locke shoulders his rifle. "Are you coming?"

"I gotta look at any more bodies today?"

"No."

James/Jim/Sawyer/LaFleur throws his hands into the air. "Lead the way, Mr. Clean."