Five Minutes to Midnight
THREE: January 1st, 2014
"Splashing through the sand bar, talking by the campfire
It's the simple things in life like when and where
We didn't have no Internet but man I never will forget
The way the moonlight shined upon her hair"
"While we were trying different things…And we were smoking funny things…Making love out by the lake to our favorite song…Sipping whiskey out the bottle, not thinking 'bout tomorrow…Singing 'Sweet Home Alabama' all summer long." Aaron sung in his best Kid Rock impression, much to his six-year-old's amusement.
"Dodo do dodo dodo dododo do…" he drummed his palms on the counter top before spinning on his heels and snagging a whisk from the top drawer. He pretended it was a microphone.
"While we were trying different things…And we were smoking funny things…Making love out by the lake to our favorite song…Sipping whiskey out the bottle, not thinking 'bout tomorrow…"
"Singing 'Sweet Home Alabama' all summer long." Caitlyn sung into the whisk, finishing the chorus for him.
"Jesus Doc, you have been 'smoking funny things'." A voice ground out.
Aaron glanced up to see Jay squinting down at him. He looked haggard.
"Uncle Jay!" Caitlyn launched herself off the stool she was perched on and dove at him before he could react. Jay groaned, but managed to scoop her against his chest and kiss her cheek.
"How ya doing, Squirt?" He asked in an overly cheery voice.
"Great!" She chirped. "Dad and me are making pancakes. Chocolate chip ones."
"Chocolate chip ones!" Jay mimicked, gasping in astonishment. "Well ain't yer Dad the culinary genius."
"You're silly, Uncle Jay."
"Caitlyn, honey. Do you mind going down to the den and asking Mom if she wants coffee or juice?" Aaron gave Jay a knowing look as he watched the man gently set his daughter down, ruffling her thick mop of blonde hair in the process. She grinned up at him before ducking between his legs and down the hall.
"How bad on a scale of one to ten?" Aaron asked, once he heard his daughter's feet clumping noisily down the steps to the den.
"Twelve." Jay groaned. "Feels like a god damn gorilla is playing bongo drums with my brain."
"Mmmm…really gotta watch those bongo playing gorillas," Aaron agreed. He reached across the counter for his iphone to turn down the volume on his playlist, mildly surprised the older man hadn't jumped at the opportunity to trash his archaic taste in music. He must be feeling rough.
"Coffee?" He offered, gesturing to the Keurig.
Jay shook his head. "Doubt it'll stay down."
Aaron made a face. "Advil than," he decided. "It's upstairs, I'll be right back."
Jay nodded and pulled out one of the stools tucked under the overhang of the island in the middle of the kitchen. He had never felt this hungover in his life. He pressed his cheek against the granite countertop in an attempt to ward off his nausea.
The next thing he knew something cold was being draped along the back of his neck, making his entire body tingle. He hadn't even realized he had closed his eyes until he opened them again to see two white tablets and a tall glass of water being pushed toward him.
"Jay." Aaron warned when he let out a ragged groan in protest. He didn't raise his head from the countertop.
"You're dehydrated. Drink this or I'm hooking you up to an IV."
Jay turned a few shades whiter, muttering something about 'doctors and their damn needles' as he reached for the pills then the water. He opened his mouth wide to stick out his tongue and show that he swallowed.
"Cute." Aaron deadpanned. He went back to mixing his pancake batter. Jay could hear the spoon clinking against the side of the bowl. He dropped his head between folded arms.
"Any word from Claire?" He asked after a long moment. He heard the spoon stop and Aaron sigh.
"Yeah. She called about an hour ago. Just out of surgery and getting settled in the ICU shortly."
"How bad?" Jay grunted, not bothering to look up.
Aaron gave him a sympathetic look. His skin was about the same colour as the pale granite that adorned his counter.
"Bad," Aaron admitted. "Juliet had a lot of internal damage, extensive hemorrhaging from a splenic laceration, several broken vertebrae that needed internal fixation, a handful of broken ribs, and a collapsed lung."
Jay drew in a sharp breath.
"But…" Aaron continued. "All things considered, she's in serious, but stable condition." He didn't dare tell the man that she had coded twice, once on the way to the hospital and once in the OR.
Jay didn't look reassured.
"Claire's gonna call you in a bit." Aaron explained. "A classmate of mine, Dr. Ryan Bristow, is on for ICU today, he's a good guy. Claire also wants to hang around in case something changes and they need to go back to the OR. She's just catching some shut-eye in her office."
"You…you said she was stable." Jay's flat tone changed to one of alarm. "How the fuck did this happen?" He hissed.
Aaron shook his head. "I don't know. But, she is stable." He explained gently. "Claire's just being overly cautious, that's all. The trauma team that worked Juliet's case last night are excellent. The ICU guys are great too. Her pain is well controlled and they are going to keep her very heavily sedated to give her body time to heal. She's gonna be alright, Jay. These things just take time."
Jay stared at him for a long time then sighed and went back to being queasy.
"Maybe you should follow Claire's example and get some more shut-eye yourself?" Aaron raised his head from the bowl of batter. "It's only 9:00 AM."
A low whimper to his right prevented him from saying anything else.
"Hang on a sec." Aaron set the bowl down near the sink and padded over to the couch.
"James?" He asked, peering down at the man. His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose.
The southerner was on his back, still tangled in Jay's sport coat and groaning loudly as he struggled to force his eyes open.
"I think he's starting to come round," Aaron whispered to Jay, silently hoping that they would not have a repeat of last night.
"Juliet." Sawyer breathed through parted lips.
Aaron winced.
"Gotta save her…she falling…gotta…" Sawyer lurched forward and would have fallen off the couch if Aaron hadn't caught him and eased him back with a grunt. The close proximity seemed to jar the man. His head started to roll lazily from side to side as his eyes opened.
The truncated gasp that left his mouth was one of pure confusion. He spotted Aaron standing above him in a faded black Star Wars t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. Sawyer's gaze locked on the man for only a moment before his shut his eyes, opening them again a second later. He grunted in confusion when the image did not resolve itself.
Aaron fetched a pen-light from the medical bag he'd left on coffee table and brandished it in front of his face. He was pleased when Sawyer appeared to track it with his eyes.
"Any dizziness or blurred vision?" He asked clinically, skipping all pretense.
Sawyer blinked at him. "Excuse me?"
"Do you have any dizziness or blurred vision?" Aaron repeated. "You're pupil response seems a little sluggish. Do you know if you hit your head at all?"
"Hit my…"Sawyer grumbled, ignoring Aaron's gesture to stay lying down.
"Son of a bitch!" he erupted, working his arms out of the black tuxedo jacket that had somehow ended up wrapped around him. He threw it to the floor, kicking the heavy blanket that had snared his legs along with it. He stared incredulously at the offending items then back at Aaron.
"Who the fuck are you?"
Aaron swallowed hard, unsure how to proceed. His hesitation seemed to enrage Sawyer who had shakily managed to get to his feet.
"What's the last thing you remember, James?" Aaron hedged.
"How do you…" he started to stammer, but an overwhelming sense of despair jarred him mid-sentence and he had to sit back down before he fell.
"Juliet," her name was barely a whisper on his lips. His eyes widened. Oh god, Juliet!
Aaron noted the grey sheen Sawyer's face has taken on and frowned. He cautiously eyed Jay, whose head was still flush against countertop, pretending not to be listening. It was probably better he didn't complicate matters.
"Juliet," her name sounded wet and grief ridden. Sawyer's face contorted into a grimace, forcing Aaron to believe that his grasp of reality was tenuous at best.
"James," Aaron tried patiently, squatting on his haunches in front of the man. He didn't react.
"Juliet." The hands rubbing his eyes clenched into tight fists. It was his fault. She was dead and it's all his fault. He should have went with her on that god damn sub so many years ago. He should have let her leave the island. If he had she would still be alive right now. He should have listened…he should have fucking listened.
Aaron pinched the thick muscle running from his neck to his shoulder. The pain seemed to bring him out of it.
"Son of a bitch! What the hell did you do that for?" Sawyer glowered, swatting Aaron away.
"That fuckin' hurt." His right hand slid down his neck to rub at the spot.
"You were spacing out on me. You probably did take a knock to the head at some point," Aaron wondered.
Sawyer glared at him, but he didn't try to get up this time, instead he let his head sink back against the leather couch.
"So you going to tell me what the hell's going on?" He asked roughly, suddenly very tired and confused.
Aaron nodded, sensing the man's discomfort. "Alright, if you think you can fill in the gaps."
Sawyer clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and glared up at him. "Well, then you can start with how the hell you know my name?"
The young doctor didn't push his luck. "I was on the island with you," he admitted.
"Now hang on just a minute there…" his eyes roamed to the penlight still clasped in Aaron's hand and he gave the man a strange look. "…Doc?"
"Yeah, I'm a general surgeon." he agreed, tossing the penlight back on the table.
"Well ya sure as hell weren't on the flight. I damn well think I'd remember a…"
"I wasn't on the flight as such," Aaron countered. "I was born on the island."
Sawyer stared at him and Aaron relented.
"My mother was on 815."
If Sawyer had any idea what was going to come out of the young man's mouth it wasn't this.
"Aaron?" He rasped.
"You got it," Aaron offered him a small smile, but Sawyer's shocked look forced him to elaborate.
"You guys showed up here last night. I don't really know, there was a bright flash and there you all were… unconscious."
Sawyer pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to process what was being told. He ended up closing his eyes and taking another long deep breath.
"We aren't on the island?" He asked weakly.
Aaron shook his head. "No. You're in Los Angeles."
"When?" He really didn't want to know, but he had to ask.
"January 1st, 2040."
"Son of a fucking bitch!" He wanted to punch something, but a fierce wave of nausea ricocheted through him. His body felt as though it was smouldering from the insight out. He remembered experiencing a similar situation when the island was skipping through time. It made him sick just to think about it.
"Listen James,"
"It's Sawyer," he snapped at the boy, needing to vent his anger.
"Alright, Sawyer than."Aaron straightened the glasses on the bridge of his nose before he dared continue, giving the man a moment to let the situation sink in.
"Juliet's in the hospital," he told the man slowly, watching his facial features change as his sleep addled mind tried to keep up. "She is recovering from a major surgery and is very ill."
The intensity of the other man's gaze seemed to burn through him.
"Surgery? Juliet's alive?" Sawyer mouthed, dumbfounded.
"Yes. She she's in the ICU, but she's in good hands. We've got her sedated so she's not in any pain as things start to heal." Aaron wondered if the man in front of him could turn any paler.
"I know it's a lot to take in, but I will take you to see her in a little bit once she's settled away."
Sawyer swallowed thickly. "I can't lose her."
"You won't." Aaron assured. "She's in good hands."
"So, Juliet and I arn't the only ones in—2040?" He hesitated, glancing around at Aaron's spacious living room; a large flat screen TV sat adjacent to the couch he was sitting on, offset by an elaborate fireplace, two towering bookshelves abutted the side wall, and a door leading to the backyard deck to his right.
"Nope. Jack, Kate, yourself and Juliet turned up here last night. Did a helluva job of crashing our New Years Eve party," Aaron mused. "They're still upstairs sleeping it off."
Sawyer nodded and finally let his head sink against the back of the couch, damn they just couldn't catch a break. He hadn't realized he had closed his eyes until they snapped open as something loud echoed from down the hall.
"Sorry," Aaron mumbled sheepishly. "That would be my hyperactive six-year old," he said as Caitlyn skidded into the room.
"Daddy," her tone was businesslike. "Mommy would like orange juice with her pancakes and she said to remind you not to make a mess in the kitchen."
"Oh, she did eh?" Aaron mused, grinning down at his daughter.
"Oh yes." She said and paused, noticing Sawyer for the first time.
"Daddy, can we do introductions?" she asked, nonplussed by the stranger in her living room.
Aaron chuckled and knelt down to her level. "Sure, Sweetheart. This is Daddy's friend Sawyer, but he's not feeling very well so we have to be really quiet today, okay?"
Caitlyn nodded gravely. "Okay, Daddy."
Sawyer watched as the blonde haired child in the pink stripped pajamas turned to face him and confidently offered her right hand. "Hi, I'm Caitlyn and I'm six years old and my favourite colour is purple." she beamed.
He reached to grasp the pre-offered limb and gently shook it.
"I'm Sawyer." He winced at how gravelly his voice sounded.
"Do you like the colour purple?" She asked casually.
He swallowed and pretended to consider the question. "Well I don't know, Squirt personally I'm more of a mauve fan."
Caitlyn giggled. "You're funny like Uncle Jay."
Aaron shot a glance across to the kitchen to find it empty. He frowned.
"How bout we finish those pancakes, Kiddo?" He ushered Caitlyn back toward the sink where he sat her on the stool that Jay had vacated.
"Think you can mix in these chocolate chips?" He asked, holding up a bag and shaking it.
"Yum!" she grinned as he shook the bag's contents into the bowl and handed her a spoon.
"Cute kid ya got there."
Aaron walked back to where Sawyer was silently observing them. He looked taxed, but seemed to be making an effort to engage in conversation.
Aaron perched on the arm of the couch and smiled. "Thankfully she takes after her Mom."
"No, I'm pretty sure she get's her spunk from your side of the gene pool." A voice caught their attention. Ellie leaned against bookshelf, her arms wrapped around what appeared to be one of Aaron's old sweatshirts and some toiletries.
Aaron rolled his eyes. "Sawyer, I'd like you to meet my wonderful wife, Ellie."
She issued him a warm smile and gestured to the bundle in her arms. "I brought up some clean clothes. A shower might make you feel a little better if you're up for it."
Sawyer eyed the two of them and nodded slowly.
"Thanks." He gingerly pushed himself forward and grasped the arm of the couch to steady himself as he stood. Balance came a little easier as soon as he was upright, but fuck he was stiff and his jaw throbbed like a son of a bitch.
"Showers' upstairs," Aaron explained and took the bundle from Ellie who had wandered into the kitchen to encourage her daughter to try and keep the pancake mix inside of the bowl. The majority was everywhere but.
Aaron surveyed the scene sheepishly.
"Try and aim for the bowl instead of the ceiling, ok Sweetheart?" He leaned down to kiss her on the cheek, resulting in a thick glob of batter getting smeared along the stubbled ridge of his jaw. He scraped it off with a finger and sucked it in his mouth.
"Mmmm my compliments to the chef!" Aaron grinned.
Ellie rolled her eyes. "How about Mommy helps you make a new batch while Daddy stuffs the turkey?"
Aaron offered her a one fingered salute and led Sawyer around the corner where the dining room opened up into a sprawling space. The heavy pine table on the right was decked off in a claret table cloth and gold plated dinnerware depicting a Christmas scene. In the middle, a crystal centerpiece flanked by two golden reindeer glittered in the early morning sun.
"Nice digs you got here, Doc."
Aaron smiled. "Ellie is a big fan of decorating for the holidays. You should have seen this place last week when Christmas in in full swing. She's been picking at taking things down throughout the week. I'm in charge of the tree and the outdoor lights. "
Sawyer nodded as Aaron rambled on about the subtleties of their traditions, observing how the room split into an entrance way with a smaller nook off to the side; big, broad windows overlooking a quiet cul-de-sac. The steps to his right lead up to a split level landing.
"Bathroom is straight up the top of the stairs." Aaron explained and handed him the bundle of clothes. "Everything you need should be on the counter."
"Thanks I ah…." Sawyer paused. "I'm sorry for the way I went off on ya earlier." He looked uncomfortable.
Aaron shrugged it off, thankful that the man didn't seem to remember tackling him to the ground. "Don't even worry about it."
He watched Sawyer nod and head into the bathroom before he walked into the front room to look out the window. Jay's white Ford F150 was no longer parked in the driveway.
"I think Jay's having a rough time with this." He told Ellie as he padded back to the kitchen to pull the thawing turkey out of the fridge and set it in the sink. "His truck is not in the driveway."
Ellie sighed and ran a hand along his back. "He just needs time I think. Maybe he's gone to the hospital?"
"Hmmm. I'll shoot Claire a text to keep her eye out for him." Aaron grabbed his phone off the counter. "It's probably a good thing," he said as he typed. "Sawyer's pretty volatile after everything he's been through."
"Jay's just like him." Ellie grinned. "So on a scale between his birthday and St. Paddy's Day last year how bad was his hangover?"
Aaron paused to consider the question. "Somewhere in the middle I think. He was looking pretty green at the gills and Claire's not even here to tease him about it."
