Chapter 26- The rescue Mission.

They entered the camp separately to lower the risk of being of recognised. Sawyer was first to enter; he darted from the tree line and hid behind a cluster of tents surrounding the edge of the camp. He stayed there for a while, waiting to ensure there were as few people around as possible, before slipping into the main area of the camp.

Walking through the camp, he felt the heat of eyes upon him, like his every move was being watched.

The place was empty except for the group of people huddled around a campfire in the main area of the camp, near the wreckage of the plane. Luckily, they were busy talking and hadn't seemed to notice him, yet.

What Sawyer found most unnerving about the place was the shadowed faces staring at him from inside their tarpaulin tents. The pressure of being watched was starting to get to him, but he remained calm. The last thing he needed was to draw more attention to himself.

His first move was to check the tents. Juliet wasn't out in the open, so she had to be hidden inside somewhere. Keeping his head down, he checked the first row of tents, peering through the gaps in the fabric for any sign of her.

Distracted, he stumbled into something, knocking it over in the sand.

"Dammit!"

A crack, like the breaking of a branch, sounded beneath his feet. He looked around, praying he hadn't blown his cover. No one seemed to be paying him any notice. When he looked down, his eyes softened at seeing a broken crib on the sand— the same crib that had been built for Aaron all those years ago. He knelt down in the sand and attempted to stand it up.

A thick Australian accent echoed in the distance and he froze. He darted his eyes around the beach— he needed to take cover! But where? He couldn't hop inside a random tent. He didn't know who would be inside. There was nowhere to run, except back to the tree line, but he would never make it in time. Not without Claire seeing him first.

"Psst! Over here!" A woman standing in the entrance of her tent motioned for him to get inside.

Out of options, Sawyer didn't hesitate to seek cover inside her tent. Once inside, the woman signalled for him to be quiet. Peering through a gap in the tarpaulin cover, Sawyer watched as Claire strolled passed the tent, a rifle slung over her shoulder like a prized possession.

When Claire was safely out of view, he leant back against the tent cover, closed his eyes, and breathed a deep sigh of relief. "Thanks for savin' my ass. I owe you one."

"Don't mention it."

Now that he was out of immediate danger, he took a moment to study the woman who had just saved him from a close encounter with a psychotic young mother. Eyes narrowing in recognition, he smiled, "Harper, right?"

The brunette folded her arms and looked him up and down. "Nice to see you again, Ford."

With Sawyer inside, it was Jack's turn to enter the camp. The only trouble was, he had no idea how he was going to slip in unnoticed. He didn't have Sawyer's confidence or charm, and he wasn't good at lying. It didn't come naturally to him. If he ran into trouble, he wouldn't be able to talk himself out of it—that was Sawyer's forte. Jack needed to blend into the background, but with Claire lurking about the premises, blending in was going to be a challenge.

"This is impossible, you know that, right?" he said, turning to Richard. "Someone's bound to recognise me."

"I guess that's why they call it a leap of faith." His father's words echoed through Richard's, and Jack smiled, feeling slightly reassured.

His father's words in the back of his mind, Jack mustered the courage to enter the camp. He walked openly toward a large group of people huddled around the campfire. He remembered Harper telling him that Hurley and Juliet were allowed to walk freely around the camp, so this had to be the best place to look. He slipped into the crowd, merging himself within the cluster of people.

People didn't seem to notice him, but he recognised a few faces, one being Cindy, the air hostess from 815. Jack immediately averted his gaze. One glimmer of recognition from her and it would all be over.

He continued to move through the crowd until he entered into the centre of circle where a campfire burned. Sitting alone on a fallen tree branch, looking distantly into the flames, was none other than Hurley. Jack almost laughed at his blind luck and went to join him.

"Hey Hurley…"

Hurley slowly lifted his head and looked at him with a blank expression. "Jack?"

"Ssshhh. We've gotta keep this quiet."

"What are you doing here?" Hurley asked, turning back to stare at the crackling flames of the fire.

"I came to get you."

"You shouldn't have bothered, dude."

Jack had never seen his friend so down-trodden and broken before. "Hurley come on, we have to go."

There were no soldiers in sight, no Claire, and most importantly, no Locke. It was the perfect opportunity to get away.

"Just go Jack, while you still can."

"Hurley…" Jack was conscious that people were starting to stare. "I can tell something's happened, and whatever is, we can talk about it when we get back to the barracks, but right now, we need to leave."

To Jack's relief, Hurley rose to his feet. Jack took the lead and re-entered the crowd of people, Hurley following closely behind. They made it through the crowd without incident. Jack continued to march back towards the tree line.

"Wait, dude, where are you going?"

Without turning around, Jack said, "We're leaving. Come on."

Hurley tugged on Jack's arm, breaking his stride. "Dude, we can't."

Standing in the middle of camp, they were vulnerable, exposed. Any minute, their cover could be blown. "Yes, we can," Jack said, his eyes wide with panic and determination. He continued his stride. They needed to keep moving, to make it to the tree line.

"What about Juliet and Frank? We can't just leave without them?"

Jack stopped walking. "Lapidus… he's here?"

Inside the tent, Harper was busy loading her gun. "We're safe in here," she assured Sawyer, noting his look of concern.

"You sure about that?" The suffocating heat was making Sawyer dizzy, and a sheen of sweat had formed on his brow.

Clicking her gun, she tucked it into the waistband of her pants. There was something about the way she handled the gun that reminded him of Juliet. One of his earliest memories of Juliet was on Hydra Island, when she'd held Kate at gunpoint. Never before had he seen a woman so ruthless. He had thought the same thing when she shot Danny point blank in the chest; there was no hesitation, she'd pulled the trigger like it was nothing. He knew then that Juliet was the sort of woman not to be messed with, and he got the same vibe from Harper.

"This camp is crawling with people." She looked at him, her eyes serious. "If we make one wrong move out there, we're both dead. So here's the deal, I will get you and your friends out of here, but we've gotta do things my way. Think you can handle that?"

Sawyer was never one for following orders, especially not from strangers, but he was out of options. He needed her help. He met her eyes in begrudging respect. "Understood."

Having established her authority, she wandered over to the entrance of the tent. "Come here, I want to show you something." She lifted aside the tarpaulin, just enough for two of them to peer out onto the beach without being spotted. Her finger traced over the camp and pointed to a faded tent in the distance. "See that tent over there? That's Locke's tent, the place where one of your friends is being held captive."

Sawyer's breath hitched. "Do you know who it is? Who's in there?"

"Juliet," Harper told him. "She was taken there after her judgement."

He struggled to keep his emotions in check. "And is she okay? Did she look okay?"

"She looked how you'd expect someone to look after enduring that method of torture," she said, her voice devoid of sympathy. "Broken."

He closed his eyes and silently cursed himself for not getting here sooner, for not being there when she needed him. He would kill Locke for what he'd put her through. He looked back towards Locke's tent. "Are you sure she's in there?"

"Yes, of course I'm sure."

The hope that had begun to build within him fled when he finally tore his gaze away from the tent to survey the rest of the camp. "And how do you plan on gettin' over there?" Locke's tent was on the opposite side of the camp, and next to it stood a group of people, all huddled around a campfire. How were they supposed to reach her without being spotted?

Harper's lip curled into a smirk. "We walk."

"We walk?" He scoffed at the incredulity of the ill-thought out plan. "We just stroll over there, clear as day and waltz right into his tent? No offense sweetheart, but you clearly ain't thought this through."

Harper didn't flinch under his glare. "You won't get caught, not with me by your side. Since Richard sent me here, I've made an effort to get to know these people. They trust me. So long as you're with me, no one will suspect a thing."

"Alright," he said, motioning to the exit. "Ladies first."

Following Harper's lead, tension ran through him as the pair trekked across the sand, closer to Locke's tent with each step – a step closer toher. He felt a sharp nudge in his ribs.

"Can you maybe try looking like you don't have something to hide," she hissed. "Chin up and smile, pretty boy."

Letting his shoulders sag, he replaced his scowl with a befitting smirk. "This alright with you, Ms. Perfect?" The sarcasm in his voice was his distaste at her patronising tone.

Her eyes ran up and down him. "It's an improvement, I suppose. Maybe a bit of conversation wouldn't hurt us either, you know?"

Their fake smiles quickly faltered when a voice called out to them, stopping them in their tracks.

"Hey, Harper! Wait up!"

A middle aged man left the crowd by the campfire and came jogging towards them, his cropped brown hair catching in the wind.

"Who the hell's this guy?" Sawyer hissed into her ear as the man approached, yet his question was met with a look from Harper that read, Leave it to me. Sawyer decided to keep his mouth shut and let her handle the situation.

When the man approached, his gaze flitted across to Harper in momentary confusion before settling on Sawyer with distaste. "Who's this?"

Taking an immediate disliking to the man, Sawyer stepped forward, arms folded. "The names Jim Lafleur. And you are?"

Narrowing his eyes, the man replied with a tilt of his head. "Caleb. Pardon me if I'm mistaken Jim, but I don't recall seeing you around these parts before. Are you from the plane?" The question caught Sawyer off guard and he hesitated.

Sensing his panic, Harper quickly came to his aid. "Jim and I have been friends since we landed here," she intervened, her voice charming yet sincere. "His tent is over by the clearing, you probably wouldn't have seen him around much. You like to keep to yourself, don't you Jim?"

Sawyer nodded. "I ain't much of a people person," he said, grateful for her assistance.

Caleb nodded as if in understanding, but suspicion still lingered behind his eyes. "Right, sure. My mistake."

"Anyway," Harper continued, the urgency of getting to Locke's tent making her rush. "Was there something you wanted, Caleb?"

"Yeah, cuz we really gotta rush off," Sawyer added, making Caleb's jaw stiffen in annoyance.

Harper shot a glare in Sawyer's direction. "Ignore him. What did you wanna ask me?"

Focusing his attention back on Harper, Caleb's features softened. "Me and the guys are just about to eat, and err…well, I was wondering if you wanted to join us. We've got boar roasting?"

Harper's eyes fell to the sand. "As good as that sounds, I already ate."

Sawyer couldn't contain his smirk at the disappointment on Caleb's face.

Catching a glimpse of his smirk, Caleb stepped closer, his brow furrowing in an intimidating manner. "Something funny, Jim?"

"No sir, nothing funny at all."

Managing to keep his anger under wraps, Caleb backed away and slowly shifted his gaze from Sawyer. When he looked at Harper, the anger burning in his eyes seemed to fade. "Maybe some other time then?"

She smiled and brushed a light hand over his arm. "I'd like that." Sawyer noted how Harper's cheeks had flushed pink, and his smirk grew wider.

Unable to contain a grin of his own, Caleb smiled back at her, "Then it's a date."

Sawyer was painfully aware that time was escaping them, and coughed abruptly, interrupting the tender moment between the two, much to Caleb's annoyance. "Like I said," he began, taking Harper by the arm and leading her away. "We really gotta go."

Walking away from the group, Harper shoved Sawyer in the arm.

"Hey, watch it," he growled, rubbing his arm. "What the hell's your problem?"

"You know exactly what," she bit back in reply. "You were deliberately winding him up back there. I said let me do the talking. What part of we do this my way don't you understand?"

"Look lady, he didn't buy that story for a second. The way he was looking at me… Nah, he's definitely onto us."

"Well, that story was the first thing that came to mind, and it saved your ass. Besides, it was better than your lousy attempt. Lafleur? Seriously?"

"It's Creole," Sawyer growled defensively.

She brushed off his comment with the roll of her eyes. "Anyway, you don't need to worry about Caleb. I can handle him."

Sawyer laughed. "Oh, I'm sure you can."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You two screwing or somethin'?"

"Is that really any of your business?" She turned to him, her eyes holding a piercing glare that reminded him so much of the way Juliet would sometimes look at him. It must be an Other trait, he thought.

He raised his hands in apology, not wanting to overstep the boundaries of their new-found friendship, if he could even call it that. "Sorry for following orders and tryin' to make a little conversation. You know, so we don't bring any attention to ourselves, no thanks to your boyfriend back there."

Ignoring his childish remark, Harper attempted to steer the conversation away from herself. "So, I take it you're here for Juliet?"

"Well, I didn't come all this way for Caleb."

"It's a big risk you've taken, coming here. You don't strike me as the type of guy who would risk his ass for just anyone. It would have to be someone important." She paused, her eyes narrowing as a thought brewed. "You're together, aren't you?"

He nearly laughed at the directness of her question. "Oh, so it's okay to talk about my love life, but yours is off limits? I get it."

"I'll take that as a yes," she nodded. "So, how long have you been with her?"

He frowned. "What is this? Twenty questions?"

"I'm a therapist. It's my job to ask to questions."

"A therapist huh? Well, I've heard it all now."

But when he thought about it, on an island where the impossible happened on a daily basis, it was understandable people would need their heads examining from time to time.

"Juliet was actually one of my clients," Harper elaborated. "She would visit me once a week."

Sawyer nodded. "I suppose living under the rule of a psychopath like Ben would drive the sanest of us to therapy."

"You still haven't answered my question."

Frowning, he looked at Harper who was staring at him with a cocked brow. "And what question's that?"

"How long have the two of you been together?"

He gave a resigned sigh. "We've been together just a little over two years now. Happy now? What's it to you anyway?"

Harper's gaze dropped to the sand, and she stopped walking. Confused as to why she had suddenly stopped when they were just feet away from Locke's tent, Sawyer turned to her, ready to crack some wise remark. However, he stopped himself when he saw a tear slide down her cheek. She was holding her necklace. On its gold chain was a ring, encrusted with a small diamond, similar to the one he had bought for Juliet.

Lifting her eyes from the sand, Harper said, "And in all that time, did she ever mention my name?"

"No, should she have?" Her interest in Juliet was making Sawyer uneasy.

"I guess not. Juliet's always been one for keeping secrets."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Harper's unusual shift in demeanour was beginning to unsettle him.

"Everyone has something in their past they'd rather not talk about, James. We should keep moving." Her blunt reply was an end to the conversation, but it only fuelled Sawyer's intrigue.

She had started walking again, at a much quicker pace than before, and Sawyer had to run after her. "I get the feeling the two of you ain't friends?"

"You could say that," she laughed, her hand still clinging to the ring around her neck. "Juliet had an affair with my husband."

It was Sawyer's turn to stop walking. He didn't know how to react. The Juliet he knew was a moral person. Yes, there were times she would fire a gun, but that was about survival. At the core, she was a good person. He never thought of her as the type of woman to have an affair, to break up a marriage. He found it out of character.

Harper turned back to face him when she realized he'd fallen behind. She sighed. "She never told you, huh? Why doesn't that surprise me?"

Sawyer was no stranger to breaking up marriages. In his lifetime he'd had several affairs with married women. He wasn't proud of this, yet he justified his actions by telling himself that it was the only way to find the man who'd conned his parents. He had told Juliet about the shameful things he'd done in the past, things he didn't think he'd be able to admit to anyone. So it hurt him to think she could keep such an important part of her past from him.

"Who is he, your husband?" he asked, not knowing what else to say.

"Goodwin. His name was Goodwin."

"Was?" Her use of past tense didn't escape him.

"My husband's been dead a long time now," she admitted before turning to walk away. Sawyer quickly followed after her. "He was murdered," she continued in a voice thick with resentment. "You should ask Juliet about it sometime."

Sawyer's eyes softened at how Harper clung to the ring. She held it so tightly, as though afraid to let go. He lowered his head as a mark of respect. "I'm sorry… about your husband."

She let go of the ring at the note of sympathy in his voice. "Don't be. It stopped bothering me a long time ago. I've moved on."

Sawyer sensed her embarrassment at her moment of weakness. She reminded him of the man he used to be, someone who feared showing emotion, feared weakness. When she stopped walking, his gaze broke away from her only to realise they were standing directly outside of Locke's faded tent.

"Looks like you proved me wrong," he said, his voice sincere. "You said you'd get me to Locke's tent, and you have. Thank you."

She looked at him with a sadness in her eyes. "You're a good guy, James. It's a pity." Before he could ask what she meant by that, she motioned for him to go inside. "Go ahead, cowboy. I'll wait out here and keep watch."

As a child, Juliet was brought up on the philosophy that good always overcame evil. Her father would tell her that good things happened to good people and bad things happened to bad people. This philosophy embedded itself into every bed-time story she read as a child. The hero defeats the villain, gets the girl, then they ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after.

But growing up, she came to realise that life wasn't as black and white as the fairy-tales made out. Bad things happened all the time, to good people and to the bad. On this island, she had endured more than her fair share of heartache, but she stayed strong with the hope that there would be a light at the end of the tunnel. That after everything, she would eventually get her happy ending.

But Locke's vision told a different story, a far cry from the one's she read as a child. She would never get off the island. She would never start a life with James in Miami— she would be dead long before then. For her, there was no riding off into the sunset, no light at the end of the tunnel. She had seen the end of her story, and it wasn't happy.

And that made her ask the question: if bad things happened to good people, then did Good always defeat Evil? Would they defeat Locke ... or would he defeat them?

She could hear whispering voices outside the tent, snapping her from her thoughts. Sitting up, she braced herself for Locke's return and the torture that would ensue.

The tent flaps lifted and sunlight streamed in, blinding the figure that stepped inside. Her eyes narrowed and the tent flaps closed. The comfortable dim light returned. Her gaze settled on the man who stood at the entrance of the tent, and in that second, her heart stopped. She blinked to make sure her mind wasn't playing tricks on her.

"James?"

When she said his name, Sawyer stumbled backwards, overwhelmed at the sight of her. His were eyes wide and jaw slack when he whispered, "Juliet…"

Rushing forward, he dropped to the sand and ran his eyes over her. He framed her face with gentle hands and ran the pad of his thumb over her torn lip. "Baby, I'm so sorry… Locke did this to you, didn't he?" Her lip quivered in response. His body stiffened with rage. "That sick son of a bitch… I'll kill him. I'll kill him."

"You shouldn't be here. When he comes back, he'll kill us both."

"Let him try." Sawyer was more than angry, he was fuming. Their side had suffered too many losses. Locke had taken too much from them. It was time he suffered a loss. "He ain't getting away with this," he vowed through gritted teeth. "Not this time."

Flashes of Locke's vision ran through her mind, and Juliet shivered, wanting to be rid of the horrible vision, but it would be forever engrained in her mind.

"Don't you understand? He already has." As she said this, a tear slid down the slender frame of her face. "We can't beat him, James. He's too strong."

Catching her fallen tear with his thumb, Sawyer lifted her chin to look her in the eye. "Hey, now you listen up. You and me, we're still here, still alive. Jack, Kate, Hugo and Miles, they're alive too. So, no Juliet, he hasn't won. And he won't win. Cuz as long as we're together, he don't stand a chance."

She had no fight left in her to argue, so she simply sat back in defeat and motioned to the rope around her wrists. "You're gonna need a knife."

With a knowing grin, he reached into his pack. "Lucky I came prepared." He took out a pocket knife and reached over to untie her hands and legs.

She wrestled off her bindings and tended to her swollen wrists, sore with rope burn. Sawyer slipped the knife into his belt and stood up from the sand, extending a hand down to her.

After a second's hesitation, she took his hand and he pulled her to her feet.

They stood face to face, her hand in his. Looking down at their joint hands, a lump formed in the back of Juliet's throat, choking her as she fought against her conflicting emotions. His betrayal with Kate still stung. That he risked his life made her angry, but she was relieved to see him.

He drew closer until their foreheads touched. "Juliet, there's something I need to say…"

Before he could finish, a voice called from outside the tent. "Hey, hurry up in there. We need to get moving."

Juliet recognised the voice instantly and her eyes shot to James in confusion.

"It's alright. She's on our side." Sawyer then looked to the entrance of the tent before his gaze returned to her. "You ready to get out of here?"

Looking into his eyes, she nodded her head. "Absolutely."

"Then let's go."

The pair headed towards the front of the tent.

Juliet tugged on his hand. "James..."

Spinning around, Sawyer looked at her, eyes wide with worry. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I meant what I said. You were stupid to come here… but I'm really glad you did."

He had been waiting to hear those words, for some sign that she still cared, that there was a chance of saving their relationship. He smiled.

Letting go of her hand, he lifted the tarpaulin, "Ladies first."

Hurley stopped at a shabby makeshift tent and lifted the tent flap. "This is it." He motioned for Jack to step inside.

Jack went inside and was horrified to discover Frank hunched over in the sand. Curled into the foetal position, his hands and legs were bound with rope, and his patterned shirt was dotted in blood.

"Frank?" Fearing the worst, Jack dropped to the sand and scrambled to help his friend. "Can you hear me? Frank?!"

"Oh my God… what happened?" Hurley appeared by the entrance of the tent, his eyes wide and mouth agape. "Jack, is he… is he breathing?"

Jack rolled him onto his back and checked for a heartbeat.

"Jack… that really you?"

At the sound of his friend's husky voice, Jack breathed a sigh of relief and lifted his head. "Yeah Frank, it's really me."

Frank tried to speak again but started coughing into the sand.

Jack patted his back. "Hey, just take it easy man, you're okay." Taking a knife from his pack, he raced to cut loose the rope around Frank's wrists and legs.

Once his hands were free, Frank covered his mouth and coughed violently. A few seconds passed before his coughing fit ended. When he moved his hands away from his mouth, they were dotted with blood.

Frank wiped the blood from his mouth and shuffled in the sand, managing to reach a sitting position. His shaggy grey hair brushed aside to reveal a bruised and bloodied face. Jack had seen a fair amount of black eyes in his time, but nothing compared to the extent of Frank's facial injuries.

"Is it really that bad?" Frank asked, looking at the both of them.

"What happened to you?" Jack used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe away some of the blood from the corner of Frank's mouth. "Was it Locke? Did he do this?"

Frank reached for his bloodied forehead and grimaced. "Locke's got better things to do than spend his time beating my sorry ass. No, he got his soldiers to his dirty work."

"I'm so sorry… I had no idea they'd do something like this," Hurley choked. "This is my fault for coming up with that stupid escape plan."

"You ain't gotta be sorry," Frank assured him. "It's a few cuts and bruises, that's all."

"This happened because you tried to escape?" Jack asked them.

"Locke doesn't like traitors," Frank wheezed. "And he has some pretty strict punishments for people who break his rules."

Jack swallowed.

"You have no idea how glad I am to see you guys, but you shouldn't have come. If someone catches you… well, let's just say you'll end up with a lot worse than one of these." Frank motioned to his swollen eyelid.

Jack climbed to his feet and offered Frank a hand. "Yeah, well, I don't plan of getting caught."

Frank rolled up his pant leg to reveal a nasty gash on his left ankle. "There's just one problem," he said. "They messed my leg up pretty good. There's no way I can run on this thing. You need to go without me. I'll only slow you down."

"No one's leaving anyone behind," Hurley stated. "We'll just have to figure something out like we always do. Right, Jack?"

After a moment's hesitation, Jack nodded and helped Frank to his feet. "Right, Hurley. No one gets left behind." He slung one arm beneath Frank's shoulder and the other around his waist. "We're all getting out of here. Together."

The three of them snuck out the back of the tent which led out to a small gap between the two rows of tents. The confined route allowed them easy passage through the camp without having to walk out in the open where they were likely to be spotted. Jack knew he couldn't hide in plain sight like before. Hurley leading the way while Jack lagged behind with an injured Frank Lapidus was bound to draw unwanted attention, so he took a concealed route, venturing down the small space between the tents.

"Richard is waiting for us over by those trees," Jack told them as they pressed forward.

"And what about Juliet?" Frank protested. "She's here too, you know. We can't just leave her."

"Don't worry. Sawyer's taking care of it."

Hurley looked back at them, a large grin on his face. "What? Sawyer's here?!"

"Hurley," Jack hissed. "What did I say about keeping quiet?"

"Sorry dude, it's just this whole rescue thing is pretty bad-ass."

"It won't be if we get caught…" Frank muttered.

They came to a standstill behind one final tent. They would have to make a dash across an open area of the camp in order to reach the tree line and Richard. That was a distance of 30 metres.

Hurley looked to Jack, "What do we do now?"

Peering out at the rest of the camp, Jack checked to see whether it was safe to make a run for it. Except for the group huddled around the camp fire, the place was empty.

"Okay," he said, deciding it was safe. "We're gonna walk over there and head straight for the tree line."

He and Hurley helped Frank across the sand as the three of them darted across the open space of the camp.

"Going somewhere?"

The three men stopped dead in their tracks. "Not again," Frank muttered under his breath at hearing the familiar voice.

Slowly, they turned around to see Claire standing there with her rifle pointed at them.

"Jack, how nice of you to stop by." She looked at the three of them, her eyes resting on Frank's bloodied face. "Leaving so soon?"

"If they stay here they'll die, and I can't let that happen. So they're coming back with me."

She cocked her head to the side, a grin curling on her lips. "Sorry Jack, but they aren't going anywhere. They belong to us now."

Claire would have spoken again but the sound of nearby voices distracted her. She spun around to determine which direction the voices were coming from. Hurley tried to calm her but she quickly silenced him.

"Keep your mouth shut," she hissed, her gun aimed and ready for whoever was coming her way.

Jack's face fell when Sawyer, Juliet and Harper came into view. He didn't have a chance to warn them before they ran into Claire's line of fire.

The trio came to an abrupt halt. Sawyer's gaze fixed on the gun in Claire's hand. "What's going on here, Doc?"

"Let's just say we ran into a spot of trouble," Frank said, eyeing Claire with a resentful look.

Jack looked at Juliet, relieved to see she was okay, then reverted his gaze back to Claire.

A callous grin played on Claire's lips. "Hey Sawyer. It's nice of you to join us, I should've known you'd be part of this rescue mission." As she said this, her eyes glanced over at Juliet and she pointed her gun in the direction of the tall blonde.

Sawyer instinctively stepped in front of Juliet and raised his hands. "Whoa Claire, what are you doing? Put that thing down, before you do somethin' you regret."

Claire didn't lower the gun. She pointed it across the group, toying with them, as if in a deadly game of roulette.

Much to everyone's surprise, Jack raised his gun. "I'm taking my friends back to the barracks, and you're going to let me."

However, his threat merely amused Claire. "Or what? You'll shoot me?" She took a step closer to Jack and the others. "You don't have it in you."

"You're wrong, Claire."

Jack didn't see it as going against his sister. He was going against a stranger, and a psychotic one, at that. Claire was not only beyond help, she was a lost cause. It was the bomb in her pack that had killed Sun and Jin. The incident on the sub was all the proof Jack needed that his sister was gone. And now here she was, once again endangering his friends' lives. He had no choice but to raise his gun. He wasn't about to lose any more of his friends, not after Sun and Jin.

"Believe me, it's the last thing I want to do, but I won't let you hurt my friends, Claire. So, if you want to live, then you're gonna let us leave."

"What makes you think I won't shoot?"

"Because, the Claire I used know wasn't a bad person. After the crash, she spent days collecting details of the dead passengers so she could hold a memorial. She collected messages from everyone at the beach and put them in a bottle in the hope of rescue… if even a shred of that woman still exists, if she's in there somewhere, then she needs to do the right thing."

Jack signalled for the others to start backing away. Lost cause or not, he prayed the Claire he knew was still inside somewhere. He was betting their very lives on it.

"Don't take another step," she exclaimed. "I'm warning you! I will shoot!"

Jack glared at her. "If you do that Claire, then I swear to God, I'll kill you."

"Come on Claire, this ain't you," Sawyer intervened. "Just put the gun down."

"Charlie wouldn't have wanted this for you," Hurley chimed in. "He would want you to come with us to the barracks— it's safe there. We can protect you. Then, we can go home…all of us, together. Don't you want to go home, Claire? Don't you wanna see Aaron?"

"It's too late for that," Claire admitted.

"No, it's not," Juliet's voice spoke softly. "If you stay here, Locke will kill you. You know he will. Earlier you told me that we both got left behind, that we were both outsiders— it took me a while to truly understand what you meant by that… but I get it now. You're afraid, afraid that if you come with us you'll get left behind again. But I promise you, Claire, I promise you, that won't happen. We're standing here, asking you to come with us." Juliet walked away from Sawyer's protection and outstretched her hand. "Come with us."

"Juliet, what are you doin'? Get back."

Claire sobbed, the gun in her hand teetering. Shakily, she reached for Juliet's hand only to yank it away at the last minute. "I'm sorry… I can't. I can't leave him." In a fit of tears, she dropped her gun to the sand. "Go… get away from here. Go!"

Everyone stared at her in confusion. Was she really letting them walk away? Sawyer wasn't one to question a good thing. He grabbed Juliet's hand and led her away, not waiting around for the mother of bone baby to change her mind.

Harper would have followed them, but she had two other candidates to protect. Jack and Hurley were still waiting for Claire's decision.

"Come with us," Hurley pleaded, his voice choked with emotion. "Please, please, just come back with us."

Crying, Claire shook her head. "I said get out of here— get as far away from here as you can! Before I change my mind."

Jack turned at the feel of a hand on his shoulder. He looked to see Harper standing beside him with a sympathetic look in her eyes. "You heard her. She said we can go, so let's go."

Jack looked around at the shadowed figures watching from inside their tents. They were starting to draw a crowd. Harper was right. They had to leave. Now. He reached for Hurley's arm. "Come on… let's go."

The two of them helped Frank across the beach. As they neared the tree line, Jack heard his sister's voice call him back. "When he finds out you're gone, he's gonna be mad."

A/N: Thanks for reading! Reviews are welcome!