A/N: Thanks for all the continued support for this story. It's really pushed me to keep writing. Like I've said, I'm really busy that the moment, so it might take me longer to update, but rest assured, I will update, and the story will be completed. I won't leave you guys hanging! P.S just wanna say a big thanks to my beta reader for her help with this chapter!

So to recap...

Locke and his men have left the barracks. Locke's men seem to have retreated onto Widmore's freighter and sailed away, but what of Locke?

Jack and Desmond journeyed to the heart of the island, where Desmond bid a sad farewell.

Sawyer alerted Richard of Kate's distress call. Richard sent a group to the temple to check it out, but he lost radio contact with the group. Worrying...

Miles found Sawyer and told him about Juliet. Now the pair are heading off to find her.

Think that's about everything :)

Okay, so, on with the story...

Battling through the torrential downpour, Miles and Sawyer charged across the compound in a desperate race against the clock. They slipped on wet grass, stumbled over bodies, but kept pushing forward, their legs fuelled by their determination to reach the houses.

When the first yellow house came into view, Miles stopped and pointed his flashlight at something in the distance. "Over there!"

Sawyer's eyes followed the path of light. "What am I supposed to be looking at? Hey, Miles—wait! Son of a bitch…"

Miles had darted ahead of him in pursuit of whatever his flashlight had uncovered. He was first to stumble upon the scene. He arrived, breathless, his face wearing a look of hope; a look that shattered the instant his eyes fell to the ground, where Juliet lay motionless beneath his flashlight.

Miles was secretly hoping that Sayid had performed a medical miracle in his absence, but it appeared even Sayid's training in the Republican Guard was no match for the severity of Juliet's injuries.

Miles shot a fleeting look over his shoulder, knowing that any second Sawyer would catch up to him. He didn't want Sawyer to see her. Not like this. It would destroy him.

"What the hell are you doing out here? I told you to get her inside?!"

Sayid was kneeling beside Juliet, one hand holding hers, the other pressing a bloodied cloth to her stomach. He squinted up at Miles, blinded by light.

Miles lowered his flashlight. "Hey, I asked you a question. Why isn't she inside?"

Sayid said nothing. His blank expression gave Miles an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"She's alright, isn't she? Sayid?"

As Sayid stood, Miles' stomach clenched, and when he walked over, Miles thought he was going to be sick.

Sayid spared a quick glance behind Miles before placing a hand on his shoulder. His voice was quiet when he spoke. "She didn't want us to move her, so we didn't. Whether she's inside or out here, it makes no difference…the outcome is still going to be the same." He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in. "We've done everything we can for her, Miles, but I'm afraid it's not going to be enough. I'm sorry."

Miles found himself staring down at Juliet as he listened to each word. He watched the rise and fall of her chest, how even now, she fought for breath. She hadn't given up. She was still fighting. The least they could do was not give up on her.

Refusing to accept what he had been told, he looked back at Sayid. That's when he realised Sayid was no longer looking at him, but was staring at something over his shoulder.

From behind, Miles heard a gasp. He knew what Sayid didn't have the heart to say. Sawyer stood behind him.

The close range of Miles' flashlight illuminated what had previously been obscured from Sawyer in the darkness. A body lay on the ground behind Miles and Sayid. From where Sawyer stood, it looked no different to the dozens of other bodies scattered across the lawn. But as he drew nearer, a glimpse of blonde hair and a navy shirt confirmed his worst fears.

He pushed past Miles and Sayid, and dropped to his knees beside her. The rain poured down upon her, yet her pale and delicate features remained frozen. Her eyes sealed shut. Her lips, parted. A folded shirt was tucked beneath her head to elevate it, and another shirt, soaked in blood, was pressed against her stomach. He would have thought her dead if not for the slow rise and fall of her chest. Seeing her like this brought back a jarring sense of Déjà vu, as if he'd been propelled back into the wreckage of the swan hatch and was looking down at her broken body beneath the rubble for the very first time.

He reached out to gently stroke her face. "Juliet, hey, it's me baby. I'm here now, I'm here… Juliet?"

After the incident at the Swan, Sawyer had vowed to do everything to keep her safe. It was why he'd sent her to the temple, to avoid something like this from ever happening!

Sayid knelt beside him. "She's been like this for a while now… she slips in and out."

Sawyer reached for her bloodied hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Even though her eyes were closed, he needed her to in some way know that he was by her side. He turned to Sayid. "What happened? Who did this?"

Sayid motioned over to a man sitting on the ground, outside of the flashlight's range. The man sat alone with his back turned to them, but Sawyer knew instantly who he was; Benjamin Linus. Trouble seemed to follow him like a bad smell. Ben couldn't be trusted around Juliet. The two of them together was a toxic combination, like gasoline and a match. Had Ben done this to her? Ben had done some awful things in his time, but was he capable of this?

In the space of a few seconds, Sawyer was on his feet and charging towards him. He grabbed an unsuspecting Ben by the scruff of his shirt and dragged him to his feet. The blood smeared across Ben's shirt left little room for doubt in Sawyer's mind. He tightened his choke around Ben's neck, nostril's flared. "What did you do, you son of a bitch?!"

Miles intervened before Sawyer strangled the man to death. "Jim—Jim! Let him speak."

Sawyer held his vice-like grip a few seconds longer, enjoying watching Ben squirm and struggle for breath, before reluctantly loosening his hold. Ben gasped for air.

"Tell me this wasn't you? Tell me you had nothin' to do with it?!"

Ben brought a shaky hand to his face as if to shield himself from Sawyer's burning gaze. "I didn't, I swear!"

"Then who did?!"

"Juliet and I, we were at the beach—"

"The beach?!" Sawyer's search for answers led only to more questions. Nothing was making any sense. Juliet shouldn't have been anywhere near the beach. It was miles away from the temple! "What the hell was she doing there? And why was she with you?"

"Jim." Miles cautioned in an effort to defuse the tension.

"It's a long story…" Guilt flickered across Ben's face. "We were at the beach when Locke showed up out of nowhere. I thought he was there to kill me. James, you have to believe me, I had no idea he was going to…I never thought he would…"

Sawyer was taken aback by the sight of Ben's guilt-ridden expression. He released his choke hold and backed away as if Ben's guilt were some communicable disease that he was afraid to catch. Catching it would force him to acknowledge his own guilt for sending Juliet and Kate to the temple, but more than that, it would mean believing she was going to die…and he couldn't afford to think like that.

"Locke's the one who did this to her," Sayid explained, seeing as Ben couldn't continue. "He stabbed her. The wound is deep and we cannot stop the bleeding."

Sawyer's blood boiled; Locke had done this, and he sure as hell wasn't going to get away with it. That son of a bitch would get what was coming to him. He would make sure of it, but for now, revenge could wait. The damage was done. All that mattered was keeping Juliet alive.

With that in mind, he returned to her side.

Needing to assess the damage with his own eyes, he peeled back the sticky cloth that lay upon her stomach. The wound was deeper than he'd anticipated, and the skin surrounding it had turned purple. The sight was not for the faint hearted.

The injury forced him to acknowledge just how serious the situation was – and a twinge of panic struck his heart. Yet, his fear ignited a surge of determination to save her. He wouldn't give up on her, even if her heart stopped beating.

He lifted his eyes to address the others. "Someone better tell me the Doc's on his way over here."

"Miles was supposed to get him." Ben's accusation cast an unnerving silence upon the group.

Miles and Sayid glanced at one another, neither wanting to be the one to break the news.

Sawyer caught them eyeing each other suspiciously. "Somethin' you wanna share with the rest of us?" His gaze shifted between the two of them. "Come on, spit it out!"

Sayid and Miles looked at each other, daring the other to be the first to spill the beans.

The wait for answers was unbearable. "One of you better start talkin' or so help me—"

"Jack's not here," Miles blurted. He closed his eyes when he said it to avoid seeing the break in Sawyer's face.

Sawyer blinked several times. "Whaddaya mean, 'isn't here'?"

"He left with Desmond. No one knows where they went or when they'll be back." Sayid opened his mouth, wanting to offer more in way of an explanation, but could think of nothing else to say. He knew as little as everyone else did. He gave a helpless shrug and lowered his head, before uttering, "I'm sorry."

All this time Sawyer hadn't allowed himself to succumb to panic. He'd clung to the unspoken hope that Jack was just around the corner. Jack would fix this. He would save her. But Jack wasn't here, and without him, they could do nothing. Sawyer felt powerless, tortured, knowing he was about to lose the woman he loved and he was powerless to stop it.

It was no longer a question of whether Juliet would survive, but when she would die. There was no way of reversing the damage, no way of fixing it. All that remained was a cruel waiting game. Counting down the seconds on the clock.

Running a hand down the side of her face, he pleaded, "Baby, I need you to wake up. You gotta open your eyes. I know you can do it."

Juliet had never experienced weightlessness such as this. She was drifting, floating over the gently rippling waves of the ocean in a wooden boat. She closed her eyes and revelled in the comfort of the sun's heat which beat down from the clear sky above. Peering over her shoulder, she took one last look at the island's mountainous landscape towering in the distance. She would never set foot on its sandy shores again. She smiled. The place that had held her prisoner for all these years was finally letting her go. She faced forward and looked to the horizon. There was no use in looking back. All the pain and misery of the island was behind her, and she was sailing towards freedom.

Her moment's serenity was disrupted by a voice in the wind, muffled and far away, as soft as a whisper. She looked out at the endless stretch of ocean, trying to fathom where it was coming from. Chancing a look back, she saw the strangest thing; standing there on the shore was a man.

He looked no bigger than a speck in the distance. As her eyes fixed on him, the voice grew louder and clearer. It was a man's voice; warm, deep and strangely familiar. He was calling her name over and over, telling her to come back.

A startling realisation dawned on her, like a puzzle piecing itself together in her mind. She knew that voice; she knew that man.

She rose to her feet, stumbling a little as the boat rocked, and she waved her hands in the air. "James…James!"

What was she thinking? She couldn't leave him behind! She had to go back.

Seizing the paddles, she attempted to turn the boat around, but despite her best efforts, it seemed fixed on its course. She was paddling for the shore, yet the boat was sailing in the opposite direction. She dropped the paddles and once again staggered to her feet. She dove into the water and started swimming.

The water had looked calm from the boat, but once she submerged below the surface, it pulled and tugged on her like a ragdoll, the wild current disorientating her to the point she no longer knew which way was up.

She popped up on the surface gasping for breath, flailing her arms in a struggle to stay afloat. Up above, a full blown storm loomed. How was that possible? Just seconds ago there had not been a cloud in the sky, and now it was alive and roaring with thunder!

What had once been a calm sea, turned violent. Waves were attacking her from every direction. One towering wave hit her broadside and she swallowed a mouthful of saltwater. It left a warm metallic taste on her tongue…a taste distinctly of blood. Was she injured? Casting her eyes upon the water, terror struck her. What had been sea blue, was now blood red. She would have opened her mouth to scream but for another engulfing wave. She coughed and spluttered, trying to rid the vile taste of blood off her tongue. She clawed the red water and kicked her legs to reach the shore. Stroke after stoke, she didn't stop, desperate to escape the blood bath.

Something in the water struck her. A fierce blow so sudden, and so powerful, that her first thought was that she had been attacked by a shark. A gush of pain, far more excruciating than anything she'd ever experienced, tore through her abdomen and forced her to stop swimming.

Within seconds, she was dragged under. She opened her eyes under the water but saw nothing pulling her under. Sinking farther and farther into the ocean's depths, all she could think was, This is it. This is how my life is going to end. She was powerless to save herself. The pain in her stomach was too great and her tired legs were no match for the undercurrent. The last morsel of oxygen left her lungs, and darkness tunnelled the corners of her vision. All the while, she was being dragged deeper and deeper…

Just when she thought it was over, she heard James' voice again as though he was right beside her, whispering into her ear. "Juliet, if you can hear me, I want you to know that if I could, I'd fight this for you, but it has to be you. So I need you to fight. You gotta fight this, okay? You don't get to give up because I need you, probably more than you realise…and I don't want you to go."

Those words were all she needed to hear. A reminder that she wasn't ready to leave. Using the last of her strength in one final fight for survival, she kicked and clawed at the water, as if pulling herself up by an invisible rope. With each movement, she neared closer and closer to the rippling surface…

"Juliet! Hey, hey, it's me. You're alright, you're okay…."

What had felt like a bad dream was now a worse version of reality. Blinking heavily and gasping for breath, her mind was in a state of panic. Just seconds ago, a malevolent force was dragging her to a watery grave, and now she was lying on the ground looking up into James' eyes. She had no idea where she was or how she'd ended up here.

"Hey, look at me. You're alright, just breathe. Breathe. Come on, deep breaths. That's it. Nice and slow."

Sawyer's southern drawl had a way of relaxing her to the bone, like a soft breeze on the skin and through the hair. It evoked a sense of reassurance, that no matter how bad things got, she needn't worry because he had everything under control. She focused on the sound of his voice and soon enough her breathing eased into a steady rhythm.

The gentle strokes of his fingers down the side of her face was a familiar feeling, a simple action that brought her immense comfort. She leaned into his touch. Her head lolled to the side and her eyes fell upon something lying on the ground a few feet away from her.

A man's body.

He was staring at her, his eyes wide and unblinking. She didn't readily see the bullet-sized hole in his forehead. Blood poured from it and ran down the side of his face, into his open mouth. She stared. Transfixed. Traumatized. Terrified. Calm turned into confusion, which quickly spiralled into panic. She had swapped one nightmare for another. Fear released itself from her in what she thought was a frightful scream, but was, in reality, a whimper, barely audible over the thunder.

Sawyer lifted her chin to face him. "You weren't exactly s'posed to see that…. Probably best you keep your eyes on me."

But her thoughts had already spiralled into those of panic and confusion. Her eyes darted from side to side; she looked to the sky which was dark and alive with thunder, just as it had in her dream. Over in the distance was a dharma house. She knew instantly she was at the barracks.

"W-what? How…?"

Sawyer placed a finger over her lips. "Ssshhh… it's alright, just take it easy. What's the last thing you remember?" His smooth southern drawl succeeded once again to put her at ease. His question recaptured her attention.

Wet, scraggily hair hung over his face. Water dripped from its ends and landed down upon her. Blood ran down the side of his face, getting washed away by the rain. She hadn't noticed it until now—was he hurt?

She went to wipe the blood away but found she couldn't raise her arm. She tried again, but was physically powerless to lift it from her side. Panicked licked at her heart—was she paralysed?

She tried sitting up, but the only thing her body allowed her was the movement of her head. She had to know what happened. Why was she on the ground? Why couldn't she move? Looking down, her eyes fell upon the layers of fabric, soaked in blood and pressed against her stomach.

Her heart sank.

Piece by piece, every painstaking memory returned to her in flashes; running in the jungle with Kate, their visit to the medical station, colliding with Ben, his crazed plan to destroy the island, setting off to the beach to find Desmond…

She remembered it vividly, her moment of cruel surprise when Locke drove his knife into her. Those first few seconds of not knowing what the hell had happened, followed by the sickly realisation of looking down and seeing his signature blade protruding from her stomach.

Juliet's head fell back against the grass, she no longer had the strength to hold it up.

"Hey, talk to me. What is it? Whaddaya remember?"

A hot tear of defeat rolled down her cheek. "Everything. All of it."

Sawyer wiped it away with his thumb. "You know, I've been goin' a little crazy tryin' to figure out what you were doin' at the beach when I'm here thinkin' you're safe at the temple. Would ya mind fillin' me in on the blanks?"

"I was worried about you. I was coming back to find you…" She broke off in a wrack of sobs. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, hey, stop right there. You got nothin' to be sorry for, you hear me? I'm the one who's sorry. This is my fault." A tear ran down the bridge of his nose. "None of this would'a happened if I'd listened to you. I thought I was doin' the right thing, sending you to the temple. I was tryin' to protect you…but you were right. The only way we can protect each other is by stickin' together. I should'a let you stay."

She smiled. "Did Lafleur just admit he was wrong? Guess there's a first time for everything…" Her laughter was cut short by a stab of pain.

"I know it hurts baby, I know, but you're gonna fight this. I know you are."

She looked up at him before she spoke. She knew him, knew how his mind worked. Sawyer was never one to admit when things were bad. Instead, he would skirt around the issue by cracking a grin or wise remark. This time there was no avoiding it.

She gave him that understanding smile of hers, one that told him it was okay to be afraid, before making him face the truth. "James…I'm dying."

"No." He gripped her hand and fixed her with a hard stare. "Remember what I told you back at the house? That once this night's over, you and me, we're getting the hell off this island. So you can't give up on me now, Blondie. I got a promise to keep."

His determination broke her heart. The barracks, the storm, her blood-soaked navy shirt; she had witnessed how this scene played out. She squeezed his hand. "I know how this ends. I've seen it."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"I saw a vision…of this moment…of me dying."

"A vision? What are you, psychic now?" He attempted to joke but she could see the panic in his eyes. "You better quit this crazy talk. You're startin' to sound like Locke, and Lord knows we don't need another one of him around." He grew serious again. "So stop worryin' about damn visions and just focus on keepin' your eyes open. And before you know it, the Doc'll be here to fix you up."

"I think I'm beyond Jack's handy work, don't you?"

"Hey, don't knock him. I've seen him do some pretty incredible things. He'll have you up and walkin' in no time…but until then, you've gotta hold on, okay?"

But for how much longer could she hold on? Each rise and fall of her chest was getting harder and heavier. Her state of existence was drifting. And suddenly, she was back on the boat—the one from her dream—yet at the same time she was holding on to James' hand. His grip on her hand was the only thing keeping the boat from continuing its journey. It was a force anchoring her to this world.

She stared at their joint hands and noticed that hers was beginning to fade. A sign that, slowly but inevitably, she was slipping from his grip. Time was running out.

She thought back to what Kate had told her in the medical station; the story of how she'd visited Rachel and Julian in the park. It had filled her with so much hope. Made her believe in the possibility of seeing her sister again. But it wasn't to be. The plans she'd made with James—reuniting with Rachel, meeting her nephew for the first time, meeting Clementine, moving to Miami—were all moments she'd never have. They were adventures James would go on alone. Moments he would have to live for the both of them. She would make sure of it.

"Listen…I need you to make me a new promise. That you'll leave this island, that you'll go home and be the man I fell in love with…do all those things we talked about."

"Nah-uh. No way. I'm not doin' any of those things without you, that wasn't the deal."

"I'd love to argue with you, but we don't have much time."

He shook his head and stabbed his teeth into his lower lip, reluctant to speak. She knew how hard this was for him, she was asking him to give up, to acknowledge a future without her in it.

She couldn't help the break in her voice. "Promise me, James."

Sawyer closed his eyes. He'd never been able to deny her anything. With tears spilling, he relented, "You got it, Blondie."

Hearing him say those words gave her immense relief.

That she would die and James would go on to live the rest of his life without her was painful to accept. It seemed so unfair. She'd pictured them starting a family, growing old together, but as always, the island had other plans.

What hurt more, was the thought of him living the rest of his life in constant grief. The death of his parents had sent him down a dark path of vengeance and grief. She couldn't bear to think of him going down that road again. The broken man who crashed on the island had taken a long time to fix. James had come so far from the self-loathing conman who ruined lives. The last thing she wanted was for her death to undo the transformation he'd undergone.

Knowing that he would complete their plans was a huge comfort. It assured her that his life wouldn't end when hers did. Blinking the tears from her eyes, she smiled up at him. "I love you so much. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, you know that?"

"Stop it…don't talk like you're dead already." He looked away from her and stared straight ahead. He stayed like that for several seconds, silent and staring off into space. She wondered what thoughts were running through his mind.

He sniffed back his tears and fixed her with a look of fierce determination. "You know what? It don't matter what promise I made, 'cause you ain't goin' nowhere. You might be ready to give up, but I ain't. I already lost you once. I won't again."

He shuffled on his knees and reached to retrieve something from the back pocket of his jeans. When he moved his hand away, it was closed in a fist. Clearing his throat, as if about to deliver a grand speech, he looked down at her with a dimpled smile.

"And to prove it, I got somethin' I wanna ask you. Something I should'a asked a long time ago, but somehow I never got around to it. Always too busy waiting for the right moment, I guess…but that's me all over, ain't it? Always leavin' things 'til the last minute." He glanced briefly up at Miles, who, with tears in his eyes, encouraged him to keep going, then, focusing back on her, he released a shaky breath and opened up his palm, revealing a gold ring.

Juliet glanced at it briefly, admiring its modesty and beauty, then focused back on him. She knew from Locke's vision that her time was nearly up. She didn't want to spend her final moments staring at a ring, she wanted to be looking into his eyes, memorising every detail of his face and taking that memory into the next life. The final grains of her life were draining like sand in an hourglass. Locke's vision had terrified her, filled her with an immense fear, but now that the moment was upon her, she wasn't afraid at all. If she had to go, then what better way to leave this world than in the arms of the man she loved?

"We're a team, you and me. One don't work without the other. What I'm tryin' to say, badly, is that I love you. And I wanna spend the rest of my life proving it…"

The exact moment Sawyer's blue thundercloud eyes became the horizon was hard to pinpoint. She'd been looking into his eyes one minute, and facing a beautiful horizon the next. The wind and rain were gone, replaced by a warm tropical breeze. And the sound of Sawyer's voice grew further and further away until it became nothing but a faint whisper in the wind.

She was back on the boat–the one from her dream–sailing over calm waters.

Nearly time now… Nearly time…

"I never in a million years thought I'd be askin' this, but… Juliet, will you ma—"

A/N:Okay... that was a mean cliff-hanger, I know.

Let me know your thoughts in a review. Thanks for reading.