Burn
Author's Note: I was in an angsty mood, a wordplay mood, and this is what came of it. Hope you all like it!
Enjoy,
Sara
*
It burns.
It's fire that consumes him, burns away the image of her face from his mind – not long enough. There she is again, blue eyes piercing his, and just because we love each other…
He opens his eyes to the sky; it burns in a way that the white light couldn't. The light was hope we can start over and I'll never have to lose you but she was wrong, you were wrong, you were all wrong but I did this for you, can you see me now?
Movement to his left. He turns his head and sees her, twisting her body into a sitting position, rubbing the remainder of the light from her eyes. Three years ago, he wished it was her, not Juliet, who flashed through time with him, yearned for her, wanted her, but now she was here (no more here than she was before), wrong time, wrong place. Kate never knew her place.
To his right is the Swan site. To his right is the hatch. Jack is there, too, body turned toward the hatch but head in his heads. Sawyer watches him tremble. Watches him wipe away tears with the back of one hand. Hates him, you took her, look what you've done, the hatch is there and it's all the same.
Kate calls his name (Jack). Her lashes catch the tears falling from her eyes, and Jack turns to face her, to face them both.
It's guilt you feel, and it doesn't change a damn thing.
-
The barracks are deserted, as good as home to them now, they who are left behind and still living. They who wish they were away from here or dead.
No one bothers to ask when or where they are, no one but Hurley, who precedes the question with a soft Dude and who each of them ignore. No one asks again. Eventually they will find out, eventually there will be another plan and maybe another, but eventually they will stop trying altogether.
He leaves them all outside to find their own way, answer their own damn questions. He's done with their plans and their decisions. He'll stay here until he dies, and it won't change a damn thing, she's not coming back but maybe he hopes; there is no hope left.
They call after him Sawyer, but he's not sure that's his name anymore.
-
He lives with a ghost, a memory, a routine.
His boots stay by the door where she always put them (and begged him to put them, but he only does it now, when she's not here to see), and he thinks maybe she'd be proud.
What are you doing out here? She's resting her hand on the couch, looking down at him. He smiles; it splits his lips and he licks away the blood, but she doesn't seem to notice. He follows her into the bedroom.
He wakes there the next morning; her side of the bed is still made. The sheets are stained with filth and blood, and she'll be angry when she gets home.
He tears the sheets off the bed and takes a shower.
They pound on his door. They send Jin, they send Miles – finally, they send Kate, but he barely hears them. Go ahead and beg, don't you let go.
Don't do that, she chides, Let them in.
He doesn't listen to her, and maybe she does get angry – she doesn't talk to him for days, but then again, neither does anyone else.
-
They jimmy the lock, or take off the hinges, or break down the door; regardless, they're all in his living room, eyes full of sorrow and guilt and regret and she says, Talk to them, but her voice is so clear that he won't speak to them, waiting for her to speak again.
Kate's face is in his.
"Juliet wouldn't want you to do this to yourself," she says, but if Juliet thinks otherwise, she can speak for herself – he doesn't say this to Kate, though.
He closes his eyes, or they leave, maybe, taking with them their sad eyes, their broken hearts, their damn memories.
-
What are you doing? she asks, but she knows exactly what he's doing, cool metal resting in his palm, and he wishes it was her gun, that'd be poetic. James, she says and he thinks, That's not my name, but maybe it is.
"You don't exist," he finally answers aloud.
She doesn't say anything else. He puts the gun away.
-
He misses her voice, controls his sobs long enough to speak – "You exist, I'm sorry."
She doesn't answer for a long time, and he's almost asleep, or drifting into that stupor he calls sleep, when she says, I don't exist.
"You do," he argues, "I hear you."
Only to you.
"Doesn't matter. You don't have to exist to nobody else."
But you do, James.
-
They're at his door again; he doesn't know why they don't just follow their goddamn leader. Door's open, it's gotta be – he hasn't been in or out it, but they have, they always get in, bring him food or anything else, bring him words and condolences and pity – they make sure he's still alive.
This time it's just Jin. The least of the evil; they must realize that, too.
"A helicopter is here."
But he doesn't want to leave – this is where Juliet is, or what's left of her.
"Go on then," Sawyer says.
"You come, too," Jin insists, but Sawyer shakes his head.
Go with them, she pleads – this time her voice is broken, Please go with them.
He's already hurt her enough.
-
He boards the chopper thinking that maybe they'll be too much weight again, maybe he'll swim back to shore and she'll be there, I'm not celebrating, and maybe this time he'll be able to stop it all from happening, they'll get on the sub and live together, doesn't matter what year it is, just together.
But the helicopter lands safely and he hates her, what am I supposed to do now? but she doesn't have an answer for him, at least not in her words.
Two days later he's outside a house in Albuquerque; this is where she's led him, and he stands in front of the door, I can't do this without you.
It's the last thing she ever says to him – You don't have to.