A/N: Surprise! I got bit by the inspiration bug! As for the content, this was bound to happen, y'all. The timing of where the last one ended. A little jaunt back into dramatic territory. Poor James. :( I was going to try and fit a lot of this into the last chapter but there was just no way. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
—-
She's got eyes of the bluest skies, as if they thought of rain
I'd hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain
Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place where as a child I'd hide
And pray for the thunder and the rain to quietly pass me by
Guns 'N Roses, Sweet Child of Mine
—-
Chapter 20: Whatever Happened, Happened
As the foursome wound their way through May, Juliet found the only one surlier than James was Jin. He was often making excuses to go off alone, or go to bed early on game nights. He'd feign a headache or say he needed to get enough rest for his shift in the morning, but they all knew. The closer they got to their 'Dharma-versary,' the moodier he became.
He rarely talked about Sun anymore. At one point, he'd screamed at them all in Korean before muttering, "It's useless," and stomped off to his bedroom. They didn't know what to do with him. Juliet's heart broke for him, but she knew realistically she could offer him no relief. One thing and one thing only would quell his aching heart, and she was no closer to figuring that out than she'd been to fixing the pregnancy problem on the island. It was too big. Probably impossible.
Juliet realized soon enough that she couldn't take much more of this negativity. The closer they got to July, the angrier James became too. He was quick to snapping, even at her, and she was worried he was starting to lose it completely.
A few days after their morose 'Dharma-versary' passed, James came tromping through the house two hours before he was due home. Juliet had just emerged from the shower and could hear his heavy footfalls as she towel-dried her hair. She cracked open the door and watched as the steam rolled out into the cool hallway. She heard the fridge open, and the distinct crack of James opening a beer. She listened intently, until a few moments later she heard the crunching of the can as he crumpled it and tossed it into the garbage. He'd drank the whole thing while standing in the kitchen.
"James?" she called out tentatively, almost not sure that she should.
"What?" he responded, and she heard another hiss as he opened another can.
"You're home early," she commented, trying to sound unconcerned. He said nothing in response. Juliet closed her eyes and took a deep breath before leaving the warmth of the bathroom and padding down to the kitchen with just a towel tucked around her body. She found him standing there in front of the opened fridge, with a beer in hand and his jumpsuit slightly askew. "Did something happen?"
He slammed the door shut and wove around her, heading for the couch. "Fuckin' Phil is what happened. The little weasel can't do as he's fuckin' told."
She tried to keep her face neutral, even as a chill crawled across her damp skin. She wanted to put clothes on, but if she left, James would shut down. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"
"It doesn't matter," he grumbled in response.
Juliet moved to sit on the edge of the coffee table. She knocked her knee slightly into his. He glared at her, but she didn't back down. She'd been dealing with his moodiness for weeks. She may not like where it stemmed from, but she understood it nonetheless. As much as she could, at least.
"You can talk to me," she urged softly, but James said nothing.
"I'm gonna take a shower," he mumbled after a moment, and got up, leaving her alone in the living room. She shivered, and placed her forehead into her palms. This was going to be a long six weeks.
Later that evening as they laid together in bed, Juliet wasn't surprised when James roughly gripped her by the hip, begging her with his eyes to give him what he needed. She only thought about saying no for a moment, but she couldn't deny that she wanted him too, and the reassurance being with him would bring.
There was nothing tender about the way he touched her. Nothing loving, or sensual, about the way he tore off her clothes and dragged her beneath his surface. His stormy, tumultuous ocean waves crashed over her as he pulled her down with him. He entered her roughly, causing her to cry out in surprise, and it reminded her of their first time - desperate and filled with an unnameable emotion that neither of them had been wanting to face. She found herself clinging to him as she climaxed, scratching her nails down his back as he only slammed into her harder. They were both shaking and sweating and gasping by the time he finished, and she tried desperately not to let it hurt too much when he laid down beside her, facing the wall, when they were done.
She watched his shoulders curl into himself as he buried his naked body beneath the covers. After using the bathroom and cleaning up, she stepped into her underwear and slid his shirt over her head before molding her body against the back of his. He was stiff at first, but she rhythmically stroked his arm from the top of his shoulder down to the back of his hand, and soon he was more relaxed. They said nothing as she held him, and before she knew it, she was drifting off to sleep, lulled by the smell of him that always brought her peace.
She could only hope that she'd brought him some, too.
—-
It was the second week of June when James thought bitterly that domestic life didn't suit him. It was the same thing, day in and day out. He did the same chores, they ate the same meals, and played the same stupid rotation of games every Friday night. He was getting tired of the redundancy, and he felt himself growing more and more irritated by the day.
If only the old him - Sawyer - could see him now. He'd grown into someone that guy would never recognize in a million years.
Juliet found him angrily stuffing clothes into his drawers one Sunday morning. She said nothing, though he almost wished she would have. He was itching for a fight. He wanted her to say that he'd asked for this - because she'd be right - he had. He wanted her to yell and scream with him, to let it all out and finally say how ridiculous this all was. He didn't give a shit about the damn Dharma Initiative for crying out loud, and neither did she.
But she said nothing. She merely watched him from the doorway, before nodding once and heading into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.
He called out of work Monday morning. Juliet went in. She assumed he needed his space, and time, to deal with whatever was plaguing him. She was wrong.
Tuesday came and went, and still James had barely spoken more than a few words to her. He didn't come to dinner, and she ate with Miles and Jin alone. It soured her stomach, knowing he was in pain, but she had no earthly idea what to do about it.
"You need to do something about Jim," Miles commented between a mouthful of hamburger. "He's losin' his shit."
Juliet swallowed her bite and took a sip of her diet soda. "How so?" she asked, trying to appear unphased. Miles gave her a pointed look. He saw right through her.
"He is very angry," Jin agreed, though he certainly had no room to talk. He'd been a bit better as of late, but late May had been a struggle for him too, and they all knew it. It had just become one of those unspoken things between them, as friends, as Jin felt terrible for the way he'd treated everyone.
"I know…" she relented quietly, and wiped her mouth on her napkin. "He blew up the other night about dinner. It was so bizarre. He kept mumbling that we 'have chicken all the time,' and would it 'kill us' to do something different for a change. I didn't understand what he was talking about and he wouldn't elaborate. When I asked him about it, he stopped talking." She blew out a quick breath and placed her palm against her forehead. "I don't know what's going on inside his head."
"Well, you better figure it out or he's gonna go all Michael Myers on us and kill us all." Miles took another bite of his hamburger and shook his head.
"He's just… He's got some stuff to deal with."
"No kidding. Don't we all?" Miles had a point.
"You should talk to him," Jin suggested, and wiped his hands on his napkin. He placed a hand gently on her shoulder. "He is going to get himself in trouble."
Juliet pursed her lips. They were right. This was getting too big to contain. He was Head of Security - he couldn't be seen acting this way. "You're right. I know. I'll - I'll figure something out."
No longer hungry, Juliet balled up her napkin and tossed it onto her tray. She bid her friends good night, dumped the contents of her dinner into the garbage, and walked home. She had a tight ball of anxiety in her stomach, and it only grew the closer she got to their house. Though she understood where James was coming from (or so she thought), she had no idea how to broach this subject with him. She didn't want to fight, but perhaps something was better than nothing.
When she arrived, she found him sitting on the couch writing in a notebook. He slapped it shut the moment she entered, which only further piqued her curiosity. "Hi," she greeted, trying to remain positive. He nodded his head at her but said nothing in return.
This was already going swimmingly.
"Did you eat?" she asked, and toed off her shoes. She shut the front door and sat across from him in the chair.
He had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was unkempt, but otherwise he looked okay. "Yeah. Kinda."
"Kind of?"
"I had some beer and some peanuts. A grown man's dinner."
She pursed her lips. "That's not dinner."
"Says the gal who used to eat, what, six bites of lettuce a day, once upon a time?" Juliet felt herself suck in a breath. A challenge glistened in his eyes. I guess this is unavoidable, she thought bitterly as she clenched her fists in her lap.
"If you have something to say, James, just say it. I don't have the energy to fight with you."
James felt the anger surge beneath his skin - the anger he'd been feeling for weeks now, knowing what he knew. Somewhere out there, events were being set in motion, and he was sitting here comfy and happy as a clam - eating wholesome meals, working an honest job, hanging out with friends, making love to the most beautiful woman in the whole damn world.
All the while, somewhere out there, everything was falling apart.
Juliet's eyes were pleading with him. They were bright and shining in the low light of the living room, and though the anger burned in his very soul, the words he'd been wanting to say died on his lips.
It wasn't her fault. None of this was her fault. He wanted it to be, because then he could lash out and finally feel free of the pain growing steadily stronger inside him, but he just couldn't.
Juliet waited for James to say something. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times, but could only seem to grunt and mumble instead of saying anything of value. He looked furious, but as he clenched and unclenched his fists, she saw his body begin to relax, if only slightly. It confused her, but she took it as a good sign.
She knew from past experience with him that he pushed against her when he felt something stronger than he could comprehend. She knew she'd grown into someone he trusted, someone he loved despite all odds, and that made her a safe place for him. She hated that his instinct was to push her away rather than pull her in, but she'd known him long enough by now to know this was just how he was.
He'd once told her a tiger couldn't change his stripes. She'd seen firsthand how wrong he'd been about that, but she also wasn't naive enough to think that some things just never changed.
Not wanting to make the situation worse, Juliet remained in her chair. She could get up and sit by him, but that might set him off. She could walk away, and let him calm down on his own, but something about that didn't feel right either. So they sat in silence. The tension in the air was thick, but a standoff was the only thing she could do while she waited for him to come back down to earth.
Finally, he broke his silence with a loud, irritated sigh. He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. It broke her heart, seeing him so broken.
"I think I'm gonna leave."
The statement stole the air from her lungs, sending her brain instantly reeling. "Leave to go where?" She gripped the arm of the chair, hard.
"I gotta try, Jules. I gotta… she needs to be warned." From deep within his hands, James's voice cracked. Juliet's heart cracked with it.
"James, you can't. You know what Daniel said - "
"Yeah, I fuckin' know what Loony Tunes said, okay? But it don't mean nothin'. I gotta try."
Juliet opened her mouth, trying to find the right words. They wouldn't come. And despite her insistence that she remain level-headed throughout this whole interaction, Juliet felt her eyes welling with tears.
When James finally lifted his head, his eyes were wild but his expression was calm. It was eerie, how manic he looked while still retaining the composure of someone with solid (though unearned) confidence. "There's a sub comin' on the first of July. It's goin' back to Headquarters the next day. I figure, if I use my paychecks from this job, I can snag a bus ticket and get to Alabama by the 4th. Maybe the 5th. That leaves me a little over a week to stake the place out, see what's goin' on. Maybe I can… I dunno, maybe I can sneak over and talk to her somehow. Tell her what's gonna happen. Or at least, fuck, just tell her who Anthony Cooper really is."
Juliet listened, but said nothing, as James further unraveled his plan. He opened his notebook, and it was then she realized he'd been writing down everything he remembered about the incident and the days leading up to it. Circled six or seven times were the words, "Tall blonde man," and Juliet's stomach lurched at the prospect that perhaps he had tried, all this time, to stop this from ever happening.
If he had, then James should know he failed. So why would he try again anyway?
The more he talked, the more he saw Juliet pulling away. It frustrated him, though he knew how he sounded. His goal was lofty at best, and downright insane at worst, but he couldn't help it. He'd been obsessing for days about the possibility of going back. If there was any chance at all that he could stop this, and stop himself from becoming the horrendous man he'd once been, shouldn't he at least try?
Didn't he owe his parents at least that? His effort?
Perhaps if he was successful, all his problems would go away. He could see the man he could have been, if he'd grown up differently. He could be worthy of someone like Juliet. If what she said was true about the island, he'd end up here anyway. Perhaps he'd have gone to Australia on a business trip that involved something legal, rather than revenge. Perhaps he'd have assets back in the real world, and when they finally got the hell off this island, he could treat her to the life she deserved.
Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.
He refused to let himself think anything else. That perhaps in changing the fate of his childhood, he'd inevitably change the fate of his future with her. He couldn't dwell on that. He just couldn't.
Juliet sighed loudly, finally at the end of her rope. She'd listened intently as he'd woven his plan, and she'd managed to keep her tears in check while doing so. But she couldn't listen to it anymore.
"James. I can't tell you what to do. It's your choice. Everything you do… it's all your choice, not mine. But I can't sit back and encourage this, either." She shook her head, disappointed at the quavering in her voice. "I just… I don't want to lose you."
James stared hard at her. He thought there was a chance she'd have his back on this one. That she'd see that the reward outweighed the risk. But he supposed he'd been wrong. He said nothing as she sniffled and rose from her seat on the couch. She wiped her nose and walked down the hallway to their bedroom. When the door clicked shut, James let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
In that moment, for the first time in a long, long time, James felt incredibly and irrevocably alone.
—-
For over a week, they both felt like ghosts living in the same house. James was laser-focused on his plan, and made arrangements with Horace to secure a seat on the sub back to the mainland. He said he had some 'business' to take care of, and insisted he planned on returning as soon as it was done. Horace had agreed, with the assurance that it wasn't going to be permanent. How could it be? James had replied. Juliet was staying here. It was all the convincing Horace had needed.
Juliet felt sick to her stomach, the closer they got to July. Every waking moment was spent analyzing James's mood, trying to catch wind of what he was planning. He told her the bare bones, nothing else, and apparently he wouldn't share anything further with Miles or Jin either - she checked.
He became obsessed, always writing in his notebook. It reminded her of Dan, in an ironic and disheartening kind of way. She wanted to read it, and see what he was planning, but it felt wrong. And anyway, James hardly let it out of his sight.
In time, James convinced himself that this was for everyone's greater good, including Juliet's. He knew she loved him, but he was nothing back in the real world. He'd never be able to give them the kind of life she deserved. If he did this, and everything changed, perhaps he could. That alone was enough to convince him that it would all be worth it, in the end. She would see in time.
But nagging doubts crept into his mind when he least expected them to. Just before they fell asleep one night, Juliet reached her hand out to take his. It was a simple gesture, not something that was rare for her, but the deep sigh she emitted after she did so - the pure contentment that settled into her features - it set his heart into a panic. His presence alone brought her comfort and peace, and if he left… What if something happened with the island and he never made it back? What if he were to end up stranding himself away from her, with no foreseeable way back?
He'd never be able to forgive himself for destroying her over this choice. Because no matter how much he justified it in his head, it would have been for his own good, not hers.
He laid awake for hours after that, going back and forth in his head. For the first time since he'd first hatched his plan, he truly began to have doubts.
—-
They hadn't had sex in almost two weeks, and the sub was leaving in two days. Juliet wasn't sure what she wanted, if she were being honest. Her period was finally over and so she couldn't use that as an excuse anymore. It was the longest they'd gone since becoming a couple, and it was on her mind all day every day. Not just because she ached for him at this point, but because she'd never felt so unsure of her feelings - not since before they'd gotten together.
She didn't know what to do. Part of her wanted to avoid him (with the even pettier part using the lack of sex as a way to communicate her displeasure with him and his decision) but she knew that was unfair. Because, on top of that, the other part of her - the part that loved him and missed him - yearned for him to touch her. She was so conflicted, and it was only made worse by the fact that she could see James wasting away - drifting further and further away from her, until it felt like he was living on his own little island, while still managing to be in the same house.
She noticed something was different the moment she stepped through the threshold of their house. The place was clean, and smelled faintly of orange disinfectant. But there was a smokiness in the air too; she'd smelled it when she'd been outside. After looking around the house and not finding James anywhere, she pushed the kitchen curtain aside and peered out through the window. She saw James with his back to her, manning a grill.
Curious, Juliet closed the curtain and retreated into their backyard. He stood there in jeans and a black and red checkered shirt, flipping what looked to be steaks on a small (clearly borrowed) grill.
"What are you doing?" she asked lightly, hoping she wouldn't startle him.
He glanced at her over his shoulder and grinned. For a fleeting moment, it felt normal, and he looked like his old self again, not the tortured version she'd been living with as of late. It made her chest flutter.
"Grillin' us some steaks, little lady. Got the grill from Horace - it was one of him and Amy's wedding presents. It's workin' out alright so far, if I do say so myself."
He reached into the cooler beside him and offered her a beer. She took it gratefully, and popped open the tab. "Smells wonderful. You've outdone yourself."
He tsked, as if unable to process the compliment. "Nah. Grillin's easy. Medium okay?"
"Yeah, sounds good."
Juliet, now able to fully process what was happening here, finally noticed the picnic table set up against the back of the house. There were two plates, two oblong shapes wrapped in tin foil, and a vase with a single flower in the center of the table.
Perhaps it was the stress of the last few weeks finally catching up to her, or her hormones finally resetting to where they should be, or some combination of the two, but Juliet felt a sob rise in her throat. She swallowed it down, pressing her knuckles hard against her mouth.
"This looks… lovely," she finally said after a moment. She peeked into the tin foil wrapper, seeing an ear of corn. He must have grilled that first. "Why are you doing this?" Her words came out soft and sad, and Juliet wished she'd found another way to say it. It was times like these her practiced mask would really come in handy, but she hardly had the strength to bother, she realized.
James didn't turn around, but she heard him sigh. "Just thought I'd do somethin' nice. That a crime?" His sharp tongue cut into her wounds like salt. Suddenly, she wasn't very hungry.
"I don't want to fight," she breathed, and sat down at the picnic table. She picked up the yellow flower out of its vase and ran her fingers along the petals. He loves me, he loves me not… it's never that simple, is it?
"I ain't tryin' to neither. I'm just - " He cut himself off, groaning at the fact that nothing he said ever came out right anymore. But soon this would all be over. Soon, everything would change, and things would be better. They'd go back to being the couple they were before these feelings took root in his heart. "I just wanted to do somethin' nice for you." He almost added, 'before I go,' but he didn't think that would go over very well.
Another fight from over a year ago, screamed on a clifftop, came flooding into Juliet's mind. She almost accused him yet again of just wanting to get laid, but by now she knew - it wasn't that simple. If she had to guess, James craved connection with her almost as much as she craved it with him. So why was this so hard?
"Thanks," she said, and completely missed the look he gave her over his shoulder. She knew he was trying, and she appreciated it. But this changed nothing. He planned on leaving in two days. She'd stayed for him, but yet she wasn't enough to keep him here, too.
It wasn't long until James brought the steaks over to the table. He placed the smaller of the two onto her plate, and went inside to grab them utensils. Dinner was delicious, and it was easy to say so. James did apparently have a knack for grilling. It had been so long since he'd done so, she'd almost forgotten. The steaks were tender and tasty, and the corn was slathered in fresh butter. She didn't even care that she got it all over her cheeks. She especially didn't mind when James's thumb swiped away at the corner of her mouth, before bringing the spare juice up to his lips to suck on. It sent butterflies fluttering through her stomach.
She tried her best to make polite dinner conversation. She told him about what she'd done at work that day, how she'd caught Chris and Miles's ex Carla hooking up in the parts shed when she'd gone looking for some spare oil. He even laughed, when she'd described how mortified they'd been, especially Carla who had apparently been keen on keeping Chris a secret.
It felt… normal. And for a while, her guard was completely down. She almost forgot that James was leaving. She almost forgave him for breaking her apart over the last few weeks. And she very nearly came to terms with the whole plan, seeing it now as an inevitability rather than something she could still change.
But by the end of dinner, she couldn't help but feel like all of this? It had been his way of saying goodbye.
—-
Juliet did the dishes, since James cooked. She took her time, trying to delay what she knew to be inevitable. When he came up behind her at the sink, she wiped her hands on a dish towel and announced with a smile (and false pleasantry) that she was going to go shower and that she'd come to bed soon. She left before he had the chance to ask if she wanted company.
In the shower, Juliet exfoliated, shaved, and deep conditioned her hair. When she emerged, she put lotion on from head to toe and brushed and flossed her teeth. It made her feel terrible, avoiding him like this. It wasn't fair really - to either of them. And sure, she knew she could say no. He'd respect her decision. But she knew she didn't want to say no. She missed him, even if she wished she didn't.
She was staring at her reflection in the mirror when a soft knock fell on the door. "You okay in there?" she heard him call through the crack.
She nodded, though she knew he couldn't see her. "Yeah, I'll be out in a sec." She took a deep breath and bit her lip. She knew she was being ridiculous. This was James. He loved her and she loved him. He would go, he would fail, but then he would return. This wasn't goodbye.
Then why did it feel like it was?
He was lying in bed with the covers pulled up to his waist when she finally entered. He had one arm slung behind his head, propping himself up slightly. He had a book in the other hand, and his glasses were perched on the end of his nose.
He tracked her as she moved, watching her slip into the bed beside him. "You smell good," he commented, and she gave a weak smile in return.
"Thanks. It's lemon and eucalyptus, I think. My lotion."
"Mm." It was a half-hearted grunt of approval. Juliet slid down, turning on her side to face him. Her bare legs grazed his. He breathed in deeply through his nose, set down his book on the nightstand, and placed his folded glasses on top. He turned onto his side to face her, and for a moment they both just looked at one another. It wasn't lost on either of them, how awkward this moment was. And how it shouldn't be.
"We don't gotta do this, ya know. If… if ya don't wanna." His voice was low and unsure, and it seemed to pain him to say it. She could see it written in the deep grooves of his face. In the way his eyebrows pinched together, like he was worried.
"I know," she answered, though she realized it was a non-answer, all the same. But looking into his eyes, and seeing the love reflected in them… it was too much for her. She didn't care what he thought this was - a goodbye or an apology or otherwise - she missed him too damn much. If she only had one day left with him, she didn't want to squander it.
Juliet quirked her mouth up on one side and fluttered her eyes closed. It was acceptance, that she was conveying to him, and he got the unspoken memo. He slid his hand up her side, his thumb grazing the side of her breast through her t-shirt, and she leaned in to kiss him. The kiss was gentle and chaste at first, but soon became more probing and exploratory. He paused only long enough to lean over and switch off the lamp before holding the side of her face in his hand and pressing her lips back to his.
His other hand began to travel into her shorts but she stopped him, whispering, "Let's take our time." She felt him nod once in acknowledgment before his lips traveled down her jaw to her throat. She laid back on her back, and he hovered over her. His kisses were feathery light, traveling from her neck to her ear to her cheeks, and even over her eyelids. He was savoring this, and Juliet tried desperately not to question why. She ran her hands up and down his bare back, enjoying the smooth planes of his skin under her fingers. His presence was intoxicating, and it wasn't long before she was panting, even though he wasn't even touching her yet.
He pulled her shirt over her head and continued his kisses down between her breasts, over the flat expanse of her stomach, before finding a nipple and giving it a gentle suck. Juliet arched her back and ran a hand through his hair. She tugged slightly, causing him to raise his eyes to hers.
Even in the darkness, she could see the longing burning behind them. He didn't need to say anything - she knew he needed her just as much as she needed him.
All it took was a single nod, and James knew she was ready. He helped her tug down her shorts before tugging off his own boxers. He threw the garments on the floor and hesitated only for a moment before continuing his kissing pursuits. He just had to look at her. She was silky smooth, gorgeously glowing in the sliver of moonlight and lamplight coming through the curtains. The expression on her face broke his heart, but he continued on, trying to pretend he couldn't see the pain there. He wanted desperately to be inside her, but she was right - they needed to take their time.
He moved his lips from her ribs to her navel, down to her hip bones. With a gentle flick of his tongue, he traced the bony outlines until she was shaking under his hands. He was cupping her thighs when he spread them, slowly easing gentle kisses down between them. He would have gone down to her knees but she was tugging at his arm, asking him to come back, so he made his way back up again, placing small bites and gentle kisses up her torso again, to her chest, collarbones, neck, and finally her lips once more.
Her kisses were frantic, her tongue desperately lashing out onto his. She gripped his hair tightly in her fingers, pulling him down so they laid chest to chest. She needed skin-to-skin contact, and yet even then he wasn't close enough.
Their hands were everywhere - roving over each other's bodies like they were discovering each other for the first time. Their thighs were interlocked like pretzels, and her arms were looped around his back, clawing at his skin as she ground herself against his thigh. Everything about this moment was rooted in desperation - they felt like they were running out of time, like they couldn't get close enough, like any moment it could all fall apart and they wanted to be as absorbed in the other as they could be when it did.
Finally, when Juliet couldn't take it any longer, she pulled James's body down beside her so she could leverage herself atop him. He didn't object, and laid onto his back so she could straddle him. For a moment, Juliet merely sat on his thighs, rubbing her hands soothingly over his chest and abdomen. She watched him as he closed his eyes, savoring the gentle way in which she touched him. He didn't know she was committing this moment to memory - that she was actively memorizing the way his hot skin felt under her hands, or the way he looked from this angle, eyes closed and ready for her to take control. He didn't know she was noticing the way his hair spread over the pillow or how his strong arms flexed as they held her on either side of her stomach. But she was. She was watching every little detail. Just in case.
She rose up on her knees and lowered herself on top of him, savoring the deep stretch he caused. He filled every ache, soothed every burn, and the full sensation of having him inside her almost brought tears to her eyes. It was almost too much.
Juliet paused only a moment, to let her body adjust, before leaning forward to kiss him once more. She rolled and rocked her hips, with an almost agonizing slowness. She wanted to feel everything. But soon the building pressure became too much to ignore. She rocked against him harder and faster, chasing the feeling that would temporarily erase all the worry and doubt and fear in her heart. She whimpered, knowing she'd come soon, and James's rough hands slid up her back to take in a fistful of her hair. He brought his mouth to hers and matched her rhythm, angling his own hips to go even deeper.
After a few minutes of the delightful chase, she felt herself peak, and the sensation rolled over her nerves in waves, lighting her up from the inside out. Despite her slowed pace as she came down from her high, James wasn't long to follow. She felt him jerk, and the resounding tremors echoed through his body. She kept moving, more slowly, making it last as long as possible for them both.
When they were done, she collapsed on top of his chest, completely sapped of energy. She could feel his damp sweat on her cheek, as well as the pounding of his heart. When she tried to move, his arms clasped around her, pinning her in place against him.
"Stay," he whispered against the top of her head, and she did. Still connected, she laid with her cheek pressed against his chest as his hand idly brushed through her hair. He moved it off her forehead and sweaty neck, and petted her from root to tip. It was the most soothing ministration Juliet could probably come up with, and she found herself lulled by the repetitive action. She could have fallen asleep right then and there if it wasn't for the anxiety slowly building back up inside her stomach.
"I love you, Juliet," he murmured against the top of her head, and the dam broke. The tears she'd been holding back for weeks finally leaked from her eyes. He could feel them, hot and wet, as they rolled down his skin. She said nothing in return, and all he could do was hold her as she did her best to stifle her sobs.
When her soft crying finally subsided, she sniffled and rose from atop him. She reached down and used the sheet to wipe away the tears she'd left behind on his skin and headed to the bathroom. She made certain to blow her nose and wash her face before going back, expecting him to be waiting for her to return.
To her shock, he was on his side facing the wall, yet again, already snoring softly. For a moment she stood in the doorway, too stunned to move, but exhaustion won out and she hung her head before crawling into bed beside him. She curled up on her side, facing the other wall, feeling very, very alone.
—-
The next day when the sub arrived, there was nothing but celebration and 'Congratulations!' floating around the compound. The new recruits were welcomed with open arms and given the full Orientation experience. Miles, Jin, and James were all working, in charge of shepherding the new recruits and making sure everything went as smoothly as possible.
Which meant, as she suspected would be the case, he didn't get home until late. Juliet cooked dinner, leaving him some in the fridge to eat when he got home, and spent most of the evening lying in bed, reading the same lines over and over and over again. It took over an hour to read one chapter, and even then she hardly remembered what she'd read.
More than once, she found herself flicking down the blinds to see if she saw him outside. She didn't. She thought about going to bed early and just ripping off the bandaid, but James still hadn't packed, so she'd end up being awoken anyway when he rifled through the drawers and closet looking for clothes.
It wasn't until almost ten p.m. that he finally came home. He didn't bother eating the leftovers - he said he'd snagged a hotdog at the festivities - and only gave her a half-hearted head nod before going to take a shower.
She waited with bated breath for the whole five minutes he was in the bathroom. When he emerged, wearing only a towel slung low on his waist, he started packing almost immediately.
"You're not going to get dressed first?" she asked quietly, annoyed at the fact that he seemed like he couldn't get out of there fast enough.
He shrugged. "Probably won't bother."
Juliet almost crossed her arms like an indignant child. She hoped he didn't have any expectations. She didn't think her heart could take it. "Oh," was all she said in response.
She watched silently as he tossed in random articles of clothing into a duffel bag. A few pairs of underwear, socks, two sets of jeans, some shirts and undershirts. He grabbed his toothbrush, comb, and deodorant from the bathroom and tossed it on the top. He looked around the room, scanning for anything he might have missed or forgotten.
His eyes landed on her.
He sighed. "Look. I know you don't want me to go…"
"Don't." Her tone was firm, final. A warning.
They stared at one another, neither saying any of the things they wanted to say. But that was their way, wasn't it? Never fully speak the truth - only just enough to get by. Read each other's body language, connect sexually but not through dialogue or use any real problem-solving. Simmer, until the emotions burst free of their own accord, and try and pick up the pieces when they do.
"You've made your choice," Juliet finally whispered, and the words settled over them like a fine dust. He scratched his eyebrow and looked down at the bed, finally breaking eye contact. "Did you say goodbye to Miles and Jin?"
"In my own way," he answered. Vague, as usual. But Juliet knew she wasn't going to get more than that.
She was startled by the sound of him closing the zipper on his duffel. He tossed the bag into the corner of the room, retreated back to the bathroom to hang up his towel, and came back into the bedroom completely naked. Despite what he'd said, he slipped into a pair of boxers before climbing into bed. He laid on his back first, staring at the ceiling, but then turned onto his side to face the wall.
This new habit was aggravating to Juliet. "You're not even going to face me?" she asked, a slight edge in her voice.
"Do you honestly want me to?" he retorted roughly.
"Yes," she heard herself whisper, and her throat felt thick. She tossed her book onto the nightstand and said again, "Yes."
When he turned to face her, his eyes were bloodshot. "I gotta go," he said quietly but firmly. His hand reached out to stroke her arm.
"So you've said…" Her eyes met his, holding his gaze with a bravery she didn't feel. After a moment, she reached over and turned off the lamp, nestled her head against his chest, and sighed deeply when his arms wrapped tightly around her.
Thankfully this time, when the tears came, he was already asleep. She disentangled herself from his arms, and cried until there was nothing left. In the morning, he'd be gone, and she'd be alone. She just hoped and prayed he knew what he was doing, because she didn't know what she would do if she never saw him again.
—-
Juliet had already planned on taking the next day off work. She knew there was no way in hell she'd be able to concentrate, knowing James was gone. So she slept late. She made coffee and toast and ate it in bed, not caring about getting crumbs everywhere. She didn't bother brushing her teeth or doing much of anything in the way of self-care. By noon, she found herself looking at the calendar and eyeing the day he'd supposedly be back - two weeks.
Ironic, she thought bitterly, and thought about circling the date, but decided against it.
At one, she decided to take a nap. She wasn't sure she'd be able to sleep but sleep came easily. Though, she had funny dreams. She dreamt someone was rebuilding her house while she was still inside it. Workers hammered on the walls and pulled the floorboards out from the living room, and she had to jump from board to board to get into the kitchen. At one particularly loud noise, Juliet found herself jolting upright in bed. She looked around, wondering if perhaps someone was knocking on her door.
At first, she heard nothing. But then… something heavy was being set down, somewhere in the kitchen, maybe the dining room? Her heart hammered in her chest as she strained to hear what it was. She almost grabbed the gun from James's nightstand but thought better of it. It could easily be Jin or Miles raiding her fridge for lunch on their break. But just to be sure, she rose quietly from the bed, wrapped her robe tightly around her body, and tiptoed down the hallway.
What she saw startled her so badly, she began to tremble.
James stood in the kitchen, drinking directly from a whiskey bottle. He wore jeans and a blue button up shirt, and his duffle was dropped by the front door. The sound she'd heard was the bottle being slammed down onto the counter top each time he put it down. His back was to her, but he must have sensed her presence because he turned around to look at her.
He was crying. Large, rolling tears streamed down his face, and his eyes were so puffy they almost looked closed. Juliet heard herself cry out before she launched herself at him. She wrapped her arms around him, though his remained limp at his sides. She didn't care. She squeezed him tightly and stroked his hair, trying to understand what exactly was happening.
"How are you here?" she breathed, shock and relief and worry bouncing around in her body so thoroughly it was making her dizzy. She pulled back, placing her palms on either side of his red face, and used her thumbs to wipe away his tears. They were immediately replaced with fresh ones.
She'd never seen him like this.
He pulled away from her touch and reached for the whiskey bottle. Once more, he tipped the amber liquid to his lips and guzzled so much he began to cough and sputter. Juliet took the bottle from his hands and set it down on the counter. She tugged hard on his hand until he finally moved, and forced him to follow her into the bedroom.
The blankets were a mess, but she forced him to sit down on the bed. She bent down, untied his shoes, and took them off one by one. She tried to ignore the gulping, angry sobs escaping his body like a demon trying to burst free, and tried to focus on getting him comfortable.
She helped him lean back, and though he fought her at first, eventually he laid back onto the bed, on his side, and she crawled in behind him. She wrapped her arms tightly across his chest and held on for dear life as gut-wrenching cries clawed their way from his gut. It was one of the most terrible things she'd ever seen, seeing him cry like this, and she'd held dead babies in her hands.
"James, shhhhh, it's okay. I'm here. I've got you, baby," she whispered into his ear, and she didn't know if it was coincidence, or her voice, or just the sentiment that he wasn't alone, but he began to slowly but surely calm down. Over time, his sobs became wimpers, and his wimpers soothed to sniffles. She held on with a strength that was probably too tight, but he held onto her arms with the same vigor. Soon, he was still - so still, in fact, that Juliet couldn't help but wonder if he'd fallen asleep.
"I couldn't do it," he croaked, his voice hoarse and wet.
"Tell me what happened," she whispered, and kissed the shell of his ear, his hair, his temple. She reached around and wiped his face once more with her fingers before kissing the corner of his eyebrow. "I've got you. You're safe, okay?"
His arms tightened around hers, which were still locked firmly across his chest. He swallowed and cleared his throat, trying to find the words. She gave him time to figure it out, holding him patiently while he found his strength. "I get what ya meant. 'Bout bein' unable to leave. Back when you… you were gonna leave too." Juliet nodded, her face pressed against the side of his head. "I woke up last night, and you were holdin' onta me so tight… I tried to move and your arms just… ya just clung on so tight, you know?" Juliet didn't know. She hadn't realized she'd done that. "I got up this mornin' and just looked at ya. I just… I didn't wanna leave you, Jules. But I had to. I had to. My mama… she's gonna die soon. And I - I could stop it - I could stop it all - and I gotta, right?"
He was babbling and he knew it, but he was trying to make sense of everything. He needed her to understand. The whiskey was swirling in his brain, clouding his thoughts. It wasn't going to be long before he passed out. He could feel it, the heaviness in his limbs. He'd been drinking for several minutes before Juliet had interrupted him. He'd just wanted so badly to feel nothing.
"But you… you're this incredible gift and when I got to the dock, I kept thinkin' - well shit, what if I change everything and you - I could lose you. I could end up never comin' here, or maybe I do cuz of the stupid island bullshit you told me about, but then - I could be someone ya don't end up lovin' like ya do now. Then what? I don't wanna lose what we have. I may not deserve any bit of the forgiveness you've given me but I'll fight like hell for it. I just… I hope she forgives me." The last words came out so soft, Juliet had to strain to hear him. Her heart was so conflicted - she didn't know how to feel.
"You hope she forgives you?" she repeated back, matching his tone and hoping it doesn't scare him away.
"My mama," he sighed, and he sounded utterly defeated. "I hope she forgives me for lettin' her die. Someday, I'll burn in hell for it, but I hope she forgives me."
Juliet couldn't take it anymore. She rolled James onto his back and placed both of her hands on either side of his face. "James. She loved you more than anything on this earth. More than anything she would want you to be happy. You deserve happiness, even though I know you don't think you do. But you do. I promise." Her face was mere inches from his, and the vulnerability in his expression broke her apart.
She knew he wouldn't say anything further - he likely felt like he'd said too much already - so she kissed him to punctuate her point. He met her kisses with equal exuberance, and she could taste the whiskey on his tongue. It was sharp and it burned her own mouth as she drank him in. When he pulled away, she swiped her thumbs under his eyes again for good measure and rested her forehead against his.
"I love you more than I've ever loved anyone, James Ford. I know this was hard, but you did the right thing. Whatever happened, happened, no matter how much we want to change it. No matter how terrible it was, or how preventable. We can't change the past. There's nothing to forgive."
She opened her eyes and saw him looking back at her. His own blue-green eyes were heavy-lidded, and Juliet knew he was on his way out. He nodded in acknowledgment, but that was all he could do. So, she encouraged him to roll back onto his side, and pressed herself back against him. She held him tightly once more, before a nagging thought entered into her mind. She wanted to ask him before he fell asleep, and before he (potentially) never spoke about this again.
"You circled in your notebook, 'Tall blonde man.' Do you know who that was?"
James shook his head as best he could while lying down. "No. Just know he visited me at the funeral. I thought maybe… but guess it wasn't me."
Juliet bit her lip. She supposed it could have been anyone.
—-
The sound of grinding, crunching metal filled James's ears. He could almost taste the metallic tang in his mouth, as if the very air around him were made of metal. Or was that blood?
Wait. He'd been here before…
Chaos ensued around him. This place looked familiar, yet he didn't know exactly where they were. Jack, Kate, Hurley… everyone was there. There was screaming. James looked around but couldn't focus on any one thing, and the scene kept shifting, just as it had the last time.
His feet were glued to the ground. He looked around wildly, searching for Juliet. He saw her lying on the ground on the other side of the large pit. He tried to call out to her, but his voice wouldn't work. And it was so… loud… everything was screeching, like they were in the path of a tornado.
He needed to be by her side - in fact, the desperation to get to her, and the anxiety that he wasn't already beside her, only grew more monumental with each step. But he hurled himself through flying debris until he reached her and was able to lean down and cradle her head in his lap.
Once more, she was covered in blood.
James felt his stomach ice over in fear. His hands felt tingly and his throat felt raw as he screamed her name. She looked up at him in surprise, and he tried to console her. He'd been too late. He could never get to her in time. Why was that?
She coughed and blood spurted out of her mouth. The crimson liquid trickled down her cheek and James felt the air whoosh out of his lungs. This couldn't be happening. Not again. He didn't understand. He hadn't seen anything hit her. What had happened?
She smiled, despite the pain she must be feeling. A single tear dripped down the side of her face, getting lost in her dirty hair. "James…" she whispered, and James cried out. He clung harder to her. He tried begging her not to leave, but the words wouldn't come. "I have something to tell you… something important…" she said.
He leaned down, straining to hear what she had to say, but the world was still chaos around him.
"I'm here, baby," was all he could say as a choked sob escaped his lips.
But nothing happened. She looked up at him in wonder, perhaps even slight bemusement. And then she faded away. He blinked.
Lying in her place was John Locke. James shouted roughly, dropping John's head to the ground. But John merely grinned, not minding. James shot to his feet, confused and angry. "Where did Juliet go?!" he screamed. John's leg was broken and he had blood in the corner of his mouth. He sat up onto his elbows, looking up at James from the ground.
"She had to leave," he said simply, in the vague way that was quintessentially John Locke. James felt unadulterated panic. His hands shook as he tried to understand.
"What do you mean she left? She was just here!"
John sat up further, clutching his leg. "She had to go, James. It wasn't safe for her here."
"The hell do you mean? We're all stuck here! It's perfectly safe!"
John only laughed. "Does this look safe to you?" James looked around. Nothing made sense. Jack and Kate were shooting at men without faces. The jungle landscape morphed and blended into a sea of green that took no real shape. James didn't know what the fuck was happening.
"I don't understand," he said simply, and hated the way his voice cracked when he said so. He looked to John for answers, but at first John merely smiled. "You tellin' me I gotta get her to leave?"
John stood, carefully leaning on his non-broken leg. He winced in pain, but hobbled to where James stood. He placed a hand on James's shoulder. "Listen to the island."
"The island don't talk!" James screamed in frustration, but before his words could fully come out, he was jolting awake.
He breathed hard, looking around the room. Juliet was nowhere to be found. For a half-second, James wondered why. Then he realized. It was still light outside. He'd just taken a nap. Or… passed out. He scrubbed a hand over his face, evaluating what the fuck had just happened. He still felt drunk. Clearly it had been just a dream. Or a hallucination.
What the fuck was going on?
These dreams were scaring the living daylights out of him. He'd always had vivid dreams, ever since his parents died, that he could recall, but nothing like this. This felt like a warning. But did he really believe in such things? He was too drunk for this.
He laid back down, trying to go back to sleep. But… the thought kept nagging in the back of his mind. What if this was a message? What if the island was warning him - that if Juliet stayed on the island, it would kill her? James swallowed hard and his eyes flew open.
There was no fucking way he'd let that happen. If they had to leave and go live in the real world in the 1970s to save her life, then so be it. But after everything that had just happened… How could he possibly convince her to go?
In the dream, their friends had returned. Perhaps someday they'd come back. And if they didn't, could he assume she was safe in the meantime? Which meant… what if they ever did come back? Well. He'd have until then to come up with a plan. Because he'd be damned if Juliet's prison became her death sentence, too.
He would do anything it took to save her.