stand by me

by maddtropics

the sunshine was the same, the island was the same, but it was the seventies. because of course it was

1. Chapter 1

A chorus of frog croaks, cricket chirps, and the calls of native birds echoed throughout the compound. Patches of ferns, flowers, and other neatly trimmed greenery spilled just barely over the edges of their beds, bordering on either side of a long, winding concrete path weaving through a small, grassy expanse. Low-slung yellow houses were peppered between the patches of greenery, their siding freshly washed and windows clean. Curtains and small windowsill trinkets could be glimpsed through the window. It was dark, but tall, golden-yellow streetlamps illuminated the path, not a single one flickering or dirty. If not for the distant howls and yips of jungle dogs and other animals, it would have looked like the perfect neighborhood.

Around the corner, Horace strode down the path, hands in his pockets, leading the way toward the northeast end of the neighborhood. Trailing behind him, a small, tired-looking group. James follows close behind, almost in step with him, head bowed slightly with exhaustion. Behind them, Miles and Jin walked side by side, marveling at the cleaned-up and lived-in barracks. A few steps behind them, Daniel walked in a slow, staggering manner, mumbling to himself. Juliet followed close behind, eyes half-blank, and keeping half an eye on the scientist.

"—And you know, it's great here! It really is, just like living in Florida. Even more beautiful than Florida." Horace was saying cheerily, as if trying to keep the mood elevated, half-rambling as he took the group of ship-wreckers toward their temporary residence. He went silent for a moment, nervously rubbing his neck.

"James—"

"Jim. You can call me Jim." James cut him off gruffly, exhaustion obvious in his voice.

"Jim—Uh, thanks for saving me back there. With Richard I mean, you really didn't have to risk your neck for us like that." He continued earnestly, glancing at the apparent leader of the group.

James waited for a moment before responding, taking a deep breath of the sticky, humid island air and glancing up at the sky. "'Course. Was my responsibility, nothin' to it." He said dismissively. He gazed at the barely visible stars above, thinking about how nice it would be to finally get back into some air conditioning. At this point, he didn't care if he was sleeping on the floor, anything was better than the jungle.

"Y-Yeah, uh—We've had some issues lately. I mean, not big issues, haha—just some stress, security problems, it's a given living here." Horace glanced at one of the houses as it passed by. It had a small, concrete 'porch' made up of a few stairs and a concrete block at the foot of the front door, covered with decorative pots full of herbs. It was obvious the makeshift garden, and the house, were well-lived-in. "It's kinda tough. Taking care of everyone, making sure everyone's safe—You understand, don't you?"

James nodded and grunted quietly in agreement, still staring off into the distance. Behind him, the rest of the group was silent, save for Daniel's incoherent rambling.

They quietly rounded the corner, turning off of the main concrete path and onto a smaller one weaving between houses. Juliet turned to glance at Daniel, who was picking at his fingers and murmuring. She bit her lip, feeling a bit of her dissociative front crumbling. Caring about people on the island was a death sentence, one would only get themselves hurt being compassionate. However, she couldn't help looking at Daniel. He was no threat to anyone, certainly not her. He had just lost Charlotte, of course he was upset. She blinked, before turning to glance at the passing houses.

They were clean, inhabited, fully maintenanced. Everything was so, so different from present day. Windchimes hung from the eaves, plants and porch furniture sat by the doors, and she could glimpse white picket fences through the alleyways. There would be an occasional light on, but it looked like everyone was asleep.

"Here we are!" Horace announced, pausing on the doorstep of a house and gesturing to the structure, "It's not much, but it's got two bedrooms and we can bring a cot in tomorrow morning."

The group stopped in front of the small house. It was rectangular shaped with most of the windows facing forward into the compound, overlooking a break in the narrow pathway containing a small patch of grass, leading up to a small grove of imported trees on the other end of the lawn. The house looked just like the others, though all houses in Dharma had slight differences in room or layout.

"Is it unlocked?" Said Miles, walking forward to inspect the wrought iron screen door.

"No, no—you don't need to worry about that." Horace said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It's quite safe here, these doors don't lock." He added casually, opening both doors and waving toward the inside "Everything should be working, there's canned foods and the like in the cabinets, and we'll send over a box of fresh goods in a bit—It's pretty late, we're kinda strapped for supplies at these hours."

One by one, the group filed in. The house was dark, lit by a mixture of pale moonlight and the streetlamps outside. The crickets and other outside noises were muffled by the walls, making it eerily quiet. The sound of windchimes from the house next door just barely chimed over the ambience, and a grandfather clock was ticking somewhere in the living room. James was the first one in, stepping in cautiously in his military work boots. Everything was—different from the last time he was in one of these houses. The carpets were more shag and far less stained and worn. The appliances were squeaky clean and running well, and the curtains were far, far less tasteful. He'd never been in this one specific house before—or he didn't think he did, considering how different everything looked in the 70s.

Daniel stopped before entering, swaying a little on unsteady feet. Juliet came up behind him, watching him closely. "I-It's all different. It changed…" He whispered to no one in particular, staring at the interior of the house. Juliet put a hand on his shoulder and gently guided him inside.

She almost winced at the feeling of the plush, shag carpet under her boots, immediately hit with a wave of bad memories at the kind of ambient, 'old book' type smell that typically accompanied the barracks houses. Juliet joined the others standing about aimlessly in the space between the living room and the hall.

"A-And if you need anything—" Horace began, breaking the awkward silence. "I'm right down the street! House number one. Or I'll be at the security station, either way! I'll leave you guys to enjoy your night." He gently clicked the door shut with a polite smile and nod, leaving the ship-wreckers to their own devices.

"This looks like my grandma's house." James grumbled, wandering toward the large grandfather clock. The house was small, but homey. To the right of the entryway was a vanity, topped with small trinkets and obviously faked fabric plants, and shortly beyond that was a hallway, long and straight, with doors on either side. At the end of the hallway there was a sharp turn that led further into the house. To the left of the entry was a small, rectangular living room that consisted of several couches, armchairs, and other furniture centered around a very large wooden table. Beyond the seating area was the kitchen, which had the typical half-wall divider and the wall posts separating it. The house was presumably unlived in, but fully furnished.

Daniel went straight to the open window in the living room, looking out across the compound. He leaned his forehead against the cool glass, careful not to disturb the small, vintage figurines lined up on the windowsill. He felt distant from his own body, heavily disconnected from everything that had happened. Had it been a day? A few hours? It was almost dream-like. His eyes searched the grassy lawn and what little of the compound he could see from the window. Movement on the eave of a house caught his eye, but it was just a windchime twirling passively in its place.

The scientist stiffened, feeling a presence next to him at the window. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Juliet. He didn't know anything about her. One of Ben's people, most likely, but he wasn't even really concerned about that. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, moving to pick up one of the ceramic figurines in the shape of an angel, turning it over in the light.

"My sister used to have one of these." She murmured quietly, running a thumb gently over the features of the figure's face. "It was a present from my aunt after she was born. She had it on her nightstand since she was a baby." The blonde smiled, just the slightest bit. "I remember she broke it once, one of the wings came off. I told my mom I was the one who broke it." She trailed off, placing the angel back in its place and glancing out at the window.

Daniel was barely listening; his head was full of equations and theories and questions. He took a deep breath, looking for any movement outside the window. A hand rested on his shoulder.

"1974. We're in 1974." He murmurs after a moment. "There was a Mark-8 in the rec room closet, it's sometime after July 1974." He winced slightly at his throbbing headache, no doubt the result of stress and lack of sleep, and wiped beads of sweat off his brow.

Juliet nodded understandingly. There was a stiffness, a formality to the way she moved, talked—robotic almost. But for a few fleeting seconds, concern flashed in her eyes. She blinked slowly, glancing back toward the hallway, and then at the grandfather clock.

"Daniel. Nothing's going to be happening for a long time. Perhaps you should rest?" She suggested, gently prying him away from the window.

Daniel was far too apathetic to resist. Everything was slow and dreamlike, the array of tacky paintings, strange pieces of modern art, and ominous-looking masks and artifacts all hanging on the walls blended together as he was led down the hallway. Juliet stops at the first door to her left, trying to remember if she'd been in this model of house before. Everything seemed so eerily familiar, yet so different at the same time. She gently clicks open the door, the mixture of moonlight and the glow of the streetlamp seeping in through the window on the opposite wall, the curtains were drawn but the blinds were up. She was able to barely make out a bed in the darkness and steered Daniel inside, flicking on the light.

Juliet felt deeply useless; any purpose she'd had having been wiped from her name a long time ago. For so long she'd had to erase every bit of her identity except for being one of Ben's group. Now that was gone, and she had nothing. She felt a tinge of her normal self, in a kind of sympathetic pull toward Daniel, but she'd trained herself out of that a long time ago. It would be hard, learning to live again. It would be so much easier to sit by and not do anything, but she just wouldn't allow herself to. If she was to be a part of any group, she needed to be useful, even if she was still seen as some kind of ticking timebomb to the rest of the time-travelers.

"Woah there, hey—What are you doing?" Came a voice from the hallway. Miles appeared in the doorframe, craning his neck to see into the room. He took a glance around as Juliet gently guided Daniel to the bed. "Aren't you gonna tuck me into bed too?" He prodded after a moment. Juliet caught his fingers loosely feeling the fabric of his shirt out of the corner of her eye. If there was one thing that she was good at after three years of Others Boot Camp, it was reading people, especially their tics and nervous tells. Miles' was fidgeting, especially with his clothes, so it wasn't hard to see the concern in his eyes.

"I think James would be glad to tuck you in." She replied, turning on the bedside lamp and rising from where she had taken off Daniel's shoes and placed them under the bed. She could feel his eyes on her, almost protectively, but at this point she was used to being watched, as if she could turn at any moment.

Miles huffed at her response, before wandering into the room. "Daniel—you alright?"

"He's not, Miles, he has a fever—Daniel please sit down." Juliet cut across him, before quickly moving to keep Daniel on the bed. Daniel shook his head wordlessly, resting his forehead into the palm of his hand. Miles continued to fidget with the collar of his shirt, nervously overlooking him. Miles had a tendency to put emotions and feelings into their own little box and store them away in favor of dealing with them much later, but he couldn't help a little concern bleeding through. He wasn't acknowledging the anxiety mentally, but he couldn't ignore the thumping of his heart. He was obviously scared but refusing to acknowledge it.

Miles knew very little of Juliet other than her being one of Ben's people. And the fact she and James seemed to get along pretty well during the flashes. The only people he really knew were the ones he came here with. Lapidus was gone. Charlotte was dead. And Daniel—Well, he wasn't in the best state right now. Suddenly, he started back to reality, realizing he had spaced out. He re-scanned his surroundings, noticing Daniel in bed and Juliet looking at him patiently from the doorframe, her hand on the light switch. He wasn't sure what to make of her, strangely mysterious, constantly unfazed by anything, yet so—human. He nodded and ducked out of the room after her with a last look at Daniel.

Juliet led the way out of the hall, noticing the door across from the bedroom was open and revealed a small bathroom. The smell of coffee mixed with the ambient, old-book-and-perfume smell of the house, and she was greeted with the sight of James and Jin standing in the dark kitchen over the coffeemaker.

Jin was holding a bag of coffee grounds, tapping the instructions on the back. "Two scoops." He said firmly, in reference to Sawyer, who was holding a third scoop of coffee grounds above the already-full filter.

"I know what I'm doing, Chewie." Jim responded, adamant on overloading the coffee maker.

"I've been gone for two minutes and you're already fighting again."

The two turned as Juliet and Miles made their entrance into the kitchen.

"Where's Dr. Nutcase?" Sawyer counters, putting down the scoop of coffee grounds, which Jin quickly takes from him and pours back into the bag.

"He's in bed. With a fever." Juliet responded, turning her gaze to the coffee maker. "Don't overload those, they break easily."

James threw his hands up in surrender and brushed past her. "Alrighty then, Ms. Other. Jus' tryna' give everyone a good kickstart. "

"'Dharma Coffeehouse Roast' has never 'kickstarted' anyone, believe me." She returned, smirking a little. At the very least, it was nice to find someone with a sense of humor. Ben was notoriously against jokes of any sort.

Juliet eased herself onto the counter as the smell of coffee turned from grounds to fresh brew. Everyone poured themselves a cup in their Dharma-stamped white mugs and took a seat at the table, which had a lace placemat beneath a large, antique silver kettle as a centerpiece.

"So, when do we start discoing?" Miles said, breaking the silence.

"Calm down, we're not 'discoing' anytime soon." James leaned back in his chair. "Horace said we can look for our crew, I have a feeling that's all we're gonna be doing for a while."

Juliet fidgeted absentmindedly with the lace on the centerpiece, listening with half-an-ear to the rambling. "We're not on house arrest, James. Have some faith in your abilities, especially with how friendly he's been toward us since you talked to Richard." She commented.

"Horace ain't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he's the mayor of Dharmaville, he ain't gonna let us walk around like one of them. Even if he did, I'm pretty sure people would notice." The con man nodded toward the window above the sink, which sat directly across from a window on the next-door neighbor's house. The light was on, and it certainly hadn't been before.

"You lived in these houses before, didn't you? Did you know anything about Dharma, the people who lived here?" Miles cut in, shifting his gaze from James to Juliet.

Juliet leaned back in her chair as well, smiling politely. "I lived in the houses, that doesn't mean I knew anything about Dharma. Other than the fact they did science experiments and kept various animals."

It was true; despite living in the little yellow Dharma-brand bungalows, almost all traces of the Dharma people had been scrubbed, either being discarded and burned in large bonfires, or lost to the elements and rot beginning to take them over. There were hints here and there; yellowed family photos in frames that had fallen behind dressers or under furniture, junk drawers full of post-it notes with things like "Dinner's in the fridge, love you!" and "Call Judy tonight," scrawled on them.

One of the more well-preserved things Juliet had found in her own house was a dresser drawer that must have been missed when her people were cleaning out the houses, containing a small set of Dharma-brand makeup. They were all encased in white boxes and applicators with no brand or logo other than the familiar Dharma seal. Juliet picked up some kind of pressed powder and opened it-choking a little on the god-awful chemical smell—and saw a few perfectly-preserved fingerprints in the powder. They were fingers much smaller and daintier than her own, and for a moment the aura in the house was disturbed. It was that day she realized that the house was not, and never will be hers, and she found herself mourning for the stranger who once lived there. What had happened to them? Some of the houses nobody lived in had dishes in the sink and on the drying rack, bathroom counters strewn with beauty products, beds unmade—as if they had left in a hurry, or not of their own accord.

"Science and animals—better jot that down." Muttered Miles, leaning back and sipping his coffee, before recoiling slightly at the taste. "Stuff's rancid! I hope you checked the date on the bag," He said to James, putting down the cup and crossing his arms. Juliet smiled knowingly

"I'm afraid this is as good as it gets," she replied, "If you think this is bad, you should taste it when its expired."

Miles shook his head, before abruptly standing and pushing his chair in, disdainfully dumping the 'rancid' cup in the sink. "If you two are gonna keep flirting," he nodded toward Juliet and Sawyer, "I'm gonna call first dibs on the shower." He unceremoniously kicked off his boots in the kitchen and walked down the hall, opening and then shutting several doors until he found the bathroom.

"Well, guess it's just you, me, and Jin-bo now." Said the apparent leader of their small group, surveying the table. "I guess there ain't much to do now, that is, unless we're gonna go for a little night swimmin' in the lake?" He grinned cheekily, while Juliet rolled her eyes.

"Sawyer," Jin said suddenly from the other side of the table, gesturing a little to try and convey his words more, "Ship-crew?"

"Huh?"

"He's talking about the rest of our 'crew.' Horace is letting us look for them." Juliet explained, nodding to Jin.

James scoffed a little. "Yeah, that's part of it— But I'm guessing we need to establish ourselves in Hippieville if we're gonna be in a good position once Locke gets back."

Jin attempts to speak again before James cuts him off.

"—And, we gotta get to the bottom of this Dharma mystery, don't you think?"

Juliet frowns, "What mystery?"

"These Dharma folks! You yourself said you don't know much about 'em, but you lived in their houses." James threw up his hands and gave her a dimpled smile. "You gotta admit, you have to be at least a little curious."

Juliet laughs and shakes her head a bit. "Even if I was, how are we 'solving' the mystery? You being nosy doesn't count as an investigation." She looked down at the half-drunk coffee cup, just barely catching her own reflection in the dark liquid. "Besides, I doubt there's anything to solve. They're a compound of scientists and hippies doing experiments and living here, mystery solved."

"Come on, you ain't even trying to listen," He returned with a grin, "Creepy cabins, hatches and buttons—"

The corners of Juliet's mouth twitched upward slightly for a brief moment. She had been curious, but there were more important matters than picking up the pieces of a long-lost group of people. They were here now, though, and maybe she could find some answers here. Still, it felt strange. She didn't know how them being here would affect the future, if they even should be here.

Jin frowned from the other side of the table. "No mystery. Locke." He cut in, looking between Juliet and Sawyer.

James scoffed. "C'mon Jin, we don't need to be all that serious about it." He waved off Jin's concern easily. Juliet studied his expression, then Jin's. James' charm had its limits, and he could come off as well—an asshole at times.

"Listen Mr. Miyagi, if you wanna get all serious, maybe you should put on another pot of coffee?" He countered, never really being one to get serious.

At the nickname, Jin stood up abruptly and began walking to the hallway.

"James!—" Juliet scolded before she could stop herself, torn between wanting to help and wanting to keep her distance from the group of near-strangers.

"What? It was a joke!" James shook his head. Juliet looked him up and down for a moment. "Some people are so dang sensitive." He mumbled.

At that, Juliet decided she was also done with him and stood up as well.

"Where are you goin', Blondie? Thought you had my back!" He said, half-joking.

"James," she said, her voice more tired than anything, "If you want to be the leader of this group, maybe you should stop making remarks about people." She said calmly. "I'm going to talk to Jin."

James huffed, watching her go. He was painfully aware he had crossed a line, but usually that wasn't met with being scolded. "Can't take a dang joke." He growled under his breath, losing his appetite for coffee and wishing he had another one of those Dharma beers. His gaze lingered on where Juliet had been sitting, coffee unfinished.

His relationships with women were either flirting, conning, or extremely distant. He knew it wasn't healthy, but it was easy. Moving from woman to woman, having a cold beer in-between each encounter, it was easy to not think about them. That is, until the crash forced him into one place. Restlessness set in, and when he wasn't putting on the brief southern charm, all he could think to do was push people away. He had instinctively moved toward Kate, who looked quite the easy target. She matched his banter and, surprisingly, put up with him. His heart ached thinking about her. At first, he pushed her away the second she rejected his advances, but considering there wasn't anywhere else to go, circumstances kept them in close contact.

She was—kind to him. In a way he hadn't felt or even cared for. As much as he had hated to admit it at first, Kate was a friend. Probably the only good one he'd ever had. The only person he felt comfortable being serious around. She knew him, matching each clumsy pick-up-line with a smart remark, but beyond the banter and jokes she knew him. The second she picked up his letter it all crumbled, and James slowly began to realize the tough-guy conman façade wasn't going to pull any wool over her eyes. It had been so long since anyone had really cared—not in the sexually-charged, lustful and passionate way—but in the way only a friend could. It hurt at first, like touching a raw and tender wound, but the sting faded.

'Course, Kate was gone, and it didn't matter. With Juliet, it was like Kate on another level. She had a kind of glassy, tired look in her eyes, like she was always somewhere else. The way she moved, talked, it was so stiff and distant. Instinctively, Sawyer would have moved to her, intrigued by the façade and desperate to play fix-it to her broken heart. It was how he did anything, flash a dimpled grin, make jokes, and avoid any serious conversation. But it sure didn't work on Juliet. It took a while to get her to respond, play back to him like anyone else would, but it was clear her mind was always elsewhere. Apparently, the Others' had a kind of no-fun-allowed rule. Juliet was always so serious, just barely showing a little of her true self before retreating again. It was fascinating, but frustrating.

The house suddenly felt quieter and emptier. Sawyer blinked, suddenly realizing he had zoned out. He surveyed the dark, moonlit house, then stood and stretched. Once Miles was done with his shower, he planned on having one himself to clear his mind.

Juliet quietly made her way down the hallway, pausing at the door of Daniel's bedroom for a moment, before moving forward. She reached another door toward the end, catching the scent of Dharma-brand shampoo coming from under the door. Finally, at the end of the hall, there was a sharp turn to the left, which led somewhat further into the house. She hesitated, then picked up the sound of a creaking floorboard—just barely audible over the ambience outside—from around the corner. Over her time with Ben and his people, Juliet had gotten remarkably good at moving silently and picking up sounds one would not have heard without years of fine-tuning. She was far, far from the otherworldly abilities which everyone else around her had—which infuriated her—but she was thankful for it now.

The hallway was extremely dark, with only a closet door on the left wall (which most likely held a washer and other miscellaneous things) and a bit of glowing moonlight at the end. Juliet followed the light, keeping her steps light and soundless. As she rounded the corner, she was greeted with a screen door layered in front of an iron security door, both slightly ajar, leading into a small screened-in sunroom overlooking a small, fenced-in backyard. Jin sat on a hanging porch-swing, one of many seating options in the sunroom. Quietly, she pushed open both sets of doors, immediately greeted with the sound of a large wooden windchime right outside the sunroom. Jin heard her come in but didn't respond. She made her way through the charmingly small, albeit crowded, porch. A few chairs sat around a glass table, which housed a few small succulents in painted pots. Some more plants, most of them fake or merely decently kept hung from the roof in baskets or sat up against the wall.

Her shadow fell across the wall, long and distorted, as she ventured further toward the other end. She shifted her weight onto a creaking board to gently alert Jin of her presence.

"Hey." She said calmly, suddenly feeling quite empty and exposed. Jin lifted his eyes to her and gave her a polite nod.

Juliet dipped her head for a moment, glancing at the empty side of the porch swing. "Mind if I sit down?"

Jin scooted aside with another nod, and she sat down. She knew a lot about Jin, as she did all the other survivors, yet she didn't really know him. There was a long, neutral silence. Juliet felt a bit out of place. Of course, she had always felt that way no matter where she was, but on the island—where the general way of life seemed to be clinging to one group of wanderers or another—she felt even more outcasted. Though, that was more incentive to at least try to make an effort with all of the group's members. Despite her long and complicated history with the survivors, she felt the need to connect with them, especially now that they were all completely out of their element.

She wasn't quite sure what to say, especially since it was obvious to everyone that she was just trying to prevent conflict in an attempt to keep everyone together.

"Quite the strange group we've ended up with." She remarked quietly, then glanced back toward the screen door. "Just our luck, huh?"

Jin took a moment to process her words, then nodded. "Sawyer—" He moved his hands up to gesture along with his speech, trying to find the right words. "He's—good. But—"

"A bit of an ass at times." She finished gently for him, feeling accomplished as he nodded and even smiled slightly in agreement.

"Better when he's not talking." He added.

There was another silence as Juliet debated how to continue.

"I appreciate the company." He ventured slowly, shifting a little where he sat, then turning to meet her eyes. "But you are—were an Other." Juliet feels her heart sink a little, but he's right. She deserves every bit of scorn for her affiliation, whether in the past (or future?) or not.

"I understand," She said gently, letting herself ease into the following silence which somehow felt far less hostile than the last. Though, she felt a pressing matter on her chest. She needed to do more, make it up to him somehow, prove her loyalty through some barbaric stunt as she had always been trained to do. At the same time, she was extremely tired of convincing everyone around her—and herself—that she wasn't 'bad'. Bad people were people and good people were people and nothing about that mattered anymore on this hellhole of an island.

Still, Juliet felt the need to say something. "Sun—" she began. However, she was abruptly cut off.

A series of loud voices and what sounded like glass breaking shattered the silence, causing both her and Jin to stand abruptly. The sound came from somewhere nearby, likely just outside the side of the bungalow, and they were moving fast in one direction past the house. The closer they got, the louder the noises became. She and Jin exchanged an extremely worried glance, and both moved quickly back into the hallway, the screen door banging shut behind them. They rounded the corner and almost ran into Miles, who had come clamoring out of the bathroom at the yells.

James was already at the window, quickly joined by Juliet and everyone else, excluding Daniel. They had arrived just in time as loud yells and hollers came just out of sight. Laughing and whooping and what sounded like a group of young people—teenagers, most likely—rapidly making their way down the sidewalk.

Two figures, followed by two more, quickly came streaking into view on the pathway. At the head of the group was a teenage girl in somewhat-raggedy hiking gear with her hair tied back, her three male partners dressed in similar garb. The lead girl was the first to fish out a small pebble from her pouch, turning and tossing it at a nearby house and smashing one of the terracotta pots on the doorstep. She laughed loudly, tossing another stone and then heading toward another house. The other hooligans did the same, making racket, smashing pots and windows. They were quickly pursued by another group of alarmed Dharma folk, some emerging from their houses at the racket and others attempting to chase them.

"What the heck?" James growled, watching the situation unfold.

Juliet blinked, just as shocked as anyone. She and James exchanged a glance.

"Teenage hippies?" Ventured Miles, watching as Phil, the last to begin chasing the group, disappeared around the corner.

Jin shook his head. "Others."

They were dressed in raggedy clothes, but if this was some kind of attack—why now? They just worked something out with Richard, hadn't they? The sounds of clattering objects and yells and hollers faded slightly, echoing throughout the narrow alleys of the barracks.

Juliet was the first to the door, James quickly on her heels. "Where do ya think you're goin', Nancy Drew?" He called, reaching out to stop her, but the door had already been opened. Everyone filed quickly out of the house, the door swinging haphazardly shut behind them. James broke ahead of Juliet, jumping onto the sidewalk and running forward, dodging bits of broken glass and terracotta on the pathway. Unlike the Others' barracks, these had many, many more houses and far more narrow, winding alleyways between said houses. However, it was rather easy to follow the noise of the commotion.

Finally, they arrived at another open area containing the welcome building and the gazebo. One of the hooligans dove behind the welcome building, where the grassy lawn sloped steeply downward to a small cluster of greenery. The three others split up and ran further into the barracks, about as quick as James had seen any kids run. He froze, unsure of which direction to go.

Suddenly, Phil darted past him, heading for the welcome building, he dove around the other side and lopsidedly made his way down the hill.

"What is going on? Why are we out here?" Miles began, though he was abruptly cut off as James followed hot on Phil's heels. "Where are you going?!"

James rounded the corner behind the building, immediately having to lean back in order to keep from slipping. The downward slope was covered with a thick carpet of grass, slick and slippery with dew. He spotted a few bare spots of ground among the greenery and made his way down the slope, hitting the patch of forest and diving underneath fern fronds and tree branches. However, as soon as he reached the sound of voices, he had to duck down to avoid a small rock flying through the air, just barely missing him. There was a surge of voices yelling and a clatter of things hitting the ground. Suddenly, a pistol slid across the grass from the source of the commotion.

James grabbed the pistol, probably dropped in some kind of struggle, and moved forward.

"You're under arrest!" Shrieked Phil, who was standing at the base of a young banyan tree, wielding a large stick. In the boughs of the banyan, the teenage girl grinned mischievously, taunting him.

"What are you gonna do, hit me with a stick? Where's your handcuffs?" She tucked back some of her wild, kinky-curly hair and spryly moved from branch to branch like an experienced jungle-dweller, in another tree and on the ground before Phil could even react. Face red with rage, the gaunt security officer tried his best to take off after her, running headlong into the range of a flying rock, hitting him square in the forehead. Further in the greenery, the girl backed up a dirt slope, loading small rocks into her pouch from the ground and into her hand from her pouch. Another rock, just barely missing Phil's head, whizzed by and landed at James' feet. He glanced at Phil, comically helpless, and the girl, who despite her rock-throwing wasn't very threatening—before deciding to intercept.

"Don't you jungle-people have something better to do than beat up hippies?" He said gruffly, only half attempting to be threatening. The girl looked up, eyes flickering with surprise at the pistol in his hands and backed up further into the greenery.

"No," she responded with a cheeky grin, before turning to dart forward into the ferns.

James turned to face Phil, pulling the lanky security officer to his feet with ease. Phil, however, didn't spare so much as a 'thank you' before he wrestled away and ran after the girl.

James made his way quickly back to the top, breaking out onto a path and spotting a few more people running around the corner. He followed them, and arrived at the edge of the houses, overlooking the surrounding meadow. Four figures were already halfway across the expanse of tall grass, heading for the fence most likely. Those chasing them slowed as the teenagers disappeared into the treeline and out of reach.

Juliet looked around, exchanging extremely confused glances with the rest of her party. Her eyes met James'. "First, they threw flaming spears, now they send delinquents to throw rocks?" He remarked as he approached, and Juliet glanced toward the far end of the Barracks, gaze lingering thoughtfully on where the troublemakers had disappeared into the treeline. Her thoughts were broken by footsteps, followed by the sound of someone tripping on the pavement, sounding from behind her.

The group of survivors turned to see Horace picking himself up off the ground and dusting himself off, glancing nervously about. "I didn't expect them to come here tonight," he remarked, half to himself.

"'Suppose you wanna get your kids under control, Chief? Seeing as they just made a beeline for the 'Big Scary Jungle'." Sawyer remarked as he sauntered forward.

Horace looked up, running a hand though his hair and smiling nervously. "I—uh—my apologies. I didn't think they'd be back tonight…" He fidgeted with his jumpsuit and re-adjusted his glasses, taking a moment to catch his breath. "They aren't ours, though—they're, uh—they're from another group."

"Richard's sending some rock-throwing teenagers at you now? I didn't think we'd cause that much trouble." The tall southern man managed to mask the sarcasm in his voice, but he turned to meet Juliet's eyes and raised his eyebrows to her in a kind of 'this is the stupidest thing I've ever had to deal with' way. Juliet rolled her eyes and was unable to suppress a smirk.

"No, no—Richard's not—They're not a part of his group, uh, they're from somewhere else. Not either of us." The mathematician gestured vaguely in the direction of the jungle.

Everyone was silent for a moment. "What—you mean there's other others?" Miles spoke up, immediately turning to Juliet, who shrugged.

"Yeah, erm we didn't really—didn't really anticipate a bunch of different groups…" Horace laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "But yeah, they've been coming around for a few weeks now, every few days. They run around and break things and make a scene and then leave," he sighed, and then quietly added, "…even when Paul—he was our Head of Security—was around there wasn't much to do about it."

"Nothing a few bullets can't fix." James huffed, unable to contain his disgruntlement at the absurdity of the situation. They can't be serious; nobody is this helpless. Though, this was the island…

"How old could they possibly be? No more than 18. Just go tell their parents." Miles remarked.

Horace looked at the both of them. "I—we'd prefer to do this without violence. And we don't have very good—actually we don't have any communications with whatever group they're a part of. We've tried everything. Following them, asking them nicely…"

"What about trapping them?" Suggested Juliet, causing everyone to turn to look at her. "Non-violently, of course," she added, "but maybe just to scare them off."

"Oh, well I mean—yeah we could try that." Horace responded, seeming rather open to the suggestion. He dipped his head a little sheepishly. "Again, I'm sorry for involving you in this, it's our own fault." He said apologetically. "But I need to go and help survey the damage, you're welcome to go back to your house though."

"We can help." Juliet said, gently following Horace. "I don't mind."

Horace blinked, then smiled. "Oh! Well, you really don't have to, that's awful nice of you. There's a few houses that could probably use fixing up, just be careful though!" With that, he began walking toward a small group of people gathered around a broken window.

James walked forward and grabbed Juliet's arm before she could venture forward as well. "What do you think 'yer doin', Mother Teresa? I thought you wanted to leave."

"Don't be selfish," she chided gently, only half-joking, "if they need help, they need help. If you want, you can look at it from the angle we're winning them over."

"I think they'll be fine without us. Say we go back to the house and try and figure out what to do next?"

"Take a good look at Horace and tell me you think he's capable of running this joint." Miles said, gesturing toward the area he had disappeared to.

Juliet frowned, but was inclined to agree. "It's polite, at the very least. And we might meet people who'd like to talk to us."

James watched her carefully, hesitating before he boldly pushed forward, "You seem awful inclined to help Horace. You know him? Was he one of 'yer people in the future?"

The blonde's brows knitted immediately, though she was used to being accused at this point. She kept her voice low and calm, but there was hesitation in her tone and a look in her eyes that wavered her credibility. "No."

Jin stepped concernedly between them, breaking the tension. "I'll help." He stated firmly, moving closer to Juliet. James sighed and followed them through the barracks.

Miles tagged behind as they continued to walk around, looking for places they could help. Most people didn't seem to mind or even notice their presence, though he couldn't help feeling awkward. He let himself lag behind them slightly, trying to take a moment to breathe without constantly being surrounded by a group.

The night air on the island was always thick and humid, filled with the chirps of crickets. He'd always hated the heat. Suddenly, he felt a flash of cold down his spine and froze on the spot.

Dread prickled his skin as he felt the prodding of a nearby presence—very nearby. He turned, facing one of the undamaged houses. The lights were off, and the doors and curtains were shut, though windchimes happily sang on the eaves. He frowned, studying the house, before feeling another rush. The 'visions' usually came on in waves depending on how close he was to the source, more feelings and whispers than actual visuals. He felt a pull toward the house, heard ringing in his ears, smelled gunpowder. He shivered, forgetting temporarily where he was and exactly what he was doing there. All he could focus on was the barrage of disjointed memories and thoughts and feelings forcing their way into his consciousness. He winced a little, feeling the throbbing of the tension headache that usually came with receiving such visions. He hovered on the spot, unsure if he should lean into the presence or try and pull himself back.

Before he could become fully enveloped in the sensations, they receded suddenly. Miles stumbled slightly, coming to his senses once more. Realizing where he was and that he probably got separated from the group, he turned around to head back, immediately running into Juliet. His chest tightened a little. Had she seen? He didn't want anyone from Ben's group knowing anything about him—whether they had defected or not. Though, he didn't have the energy to bristle at her.

"Miles?" She asked, concern lacing her voice. He looked her up and down skeptically, trying to gauge how much she had seen and how much he could downplay it. She was genuine, he could tell, but he was perplexed as to why. First Daniel, now him. Maybe it was some way to get their trust so she could get information—

"Are you alright?" The suspicion dissipated, and Miles' shoulders slumped slightly, deciding he didn't have the energy to fight concern right now. Back on the freighter he'd shrug off any vulnerability and hope everyone would forget about it, but here it was so much harder.

"I'm fine." He said tiredly. "Just… got turned around."

Juliet nodded and looked at that house behind him, frowning. "It gives me a bad feeling too." She admitted, gaze lingering on the darkened windows.

"You saw—" He took a breath, trying to collect himself, swearing internally.

Juliet glanced over her shoulder. The pathway was empty except for the two of them and the crickets chirping in the bushes. "It's alright Miles, I know. Kate told me." He released a breath he was holding, thinking back to when he had read Naomi after she had died. "Weirder things have happened here." She added, shrugging.

He sighed and threw up his hands in surrender. "Y-yeah, some place run by what's-his-face and a bunch of potheads has a few dead people. Big surprise." He tried brushing it off. Juliet nodded.

"Maybe you should go back to the house." Juliet prodded gently, turning to look over her shoulder as a few silhouettes walked across the adjacent path, their footsteps fading as quickly as they had appeared.

Miles stiffened. He was torn between accusing her of acting or getting angry at her concern, too tired to do either. However, what she said next knocked him off completely.

"Maybe Daniel is awake, I don't want him to be alone in the house." She said, lowering her gaze. Daniel, Miles remembered, feeling a jolt of guilt for forgetting about him. Daniel was an air-headed, rambling idiot—sure—but he sure wasn't going to leave Mr. Science alone and delirious. Miles collected his thoughts and nodded, beginning to walk past Juliet back the way they had come.

"Yeah—you're right. If you don't need me to help clean up—"

"I'd feel a lot better while cleaning knowing that Daniel wasn't by himself." She smiled her thanks and turned to go her own way back.

Juliet set off at a brisk walk down the winding sidewalk, scanning her surroundings in an attempt to get her bearings. She tried to remain as calm as she could on the outside, despite the fact that the further she walked the more she realized the barracks were completely different than present-day. They were confusing and crowded before, of course, but in a different way. The clustered mass of half-rotten, poorly kept shacks sat on a flat, grassy plateau surrounded by rolling grassy hills, which sloped up on all sides to meet a circular road that ran all the way around the inner circumference of the compound. On the outer shoulder of the road was a thick ring of jungle—and beyond that, the fence. The houses were far, far less. She recognized some areas, like a small cluster of knee-height white fencing surrounding a statue of a canid-looking creature, which sat among neatly trimmed flowers. However, she only recognized it because in present day, someone had accidentally broken the head off of the statue while moving furniture, revealing a hollow inside. Further inspection revealed a lot of small, decaying plastic bags hidden inside the dark inner cavity. Juliet never found out what exactly was in the bags, but she did know everyone was very, very quiet afterwards.

Curiously, she approached the statue and put her ear close to the body, giving it a gentle tap from the other side. It certainly sounded hollow. The basic structure of the barracks, including the circular road and the rolling meadow surrounding the hilltop, remained the same. However, it was far less decrepit. Thankfully, a lot of the pathways were still the same, and Juliet was able to circle around and find James collecting terracotta shards into a bag. She crouched down at his feet to observe the sad-looking succulent which had been dislodged from the soil.

"Think we'll be able to save it?" She asked with a small smile, looking up as her friend put the last dirt-colored shards into the bag.

"Save it for compost, maybe." He kicked it dismissively into the dirt on the side of the porch, where it was hidden by the equally sad ferns and leaves. Juliet stood up and walked around him to where an empty bag lay, scooping up a small pile of rock shards off of the porch.

James put his hands on his hips and turned to look at Horace, who stood nearby, half-inside another house. "So, your brilliant idea is to put us on cleanup duty to impress Our Glorious Leader?"

"You could always sit down and not do anything."

James scoffed, and despite his attitude he bent to help Juliet dislodge a large piece of wood from the dirt. "Well, that wouldn't be very fun, now would it? 'Sides, a little charity work never hurt anyone."

"I'm glad you're being nice, James. I hope you're glad we now have an actual mystery the solve."

James raised his eyebrows. "So now we're in business, huh?" He dusted some dirt off himself, wishing he had stayed inside for a shower. Then again, he'd rather be sweaty and bantering than posh and alone.

Juliet stood as well, catching his eye. "You were wondering how we'd ever get off 'house arrest', and now something just drops into our lap."

"Like they're going to come up to us ship-wreckers and give us all their information." He returned, rolling his eyes.

The blonde smiled knowingly. "Just wait and see. Horace took a liking to you, and judging by everyone else here…" Her voice trailed off as she surveyed the rest of the residents moving to clean up their little neighborhood. They glanced at the newcomers, unsure, but not too concerned. Juliet recognized a familiar figure following the winding pathways to an open house. Amy stepped aside to let two men carry out a broken table, then stepped in front of the door. Horace peeked out of the doorframe, smiling nervously as she talked to him.

"You think we're the more competent ones?" James prodded, ducking to avoid Juliet jokingly swatting him with another empty bag.

"Be nice, you know that's not what I mean. They think we're experienced in this kind of thing."

"Like we're some kind of jungle-jumpin' superheroes? Just 'cause we said we're from a ship?"

"To them we are." Juliet continued coolly with a shrug. "Though, you'd have to ask Horace." She nodded vaguely behind him. James rolled his eyes, turning around to humor her, and then swirling around straight into Horace himself. His hand, presumably cut on broken glass, had been sloppily bandaged. Phil stood at his heels, a large knot forming on his forehead. Is

"Hello," the Dharma resident greeted with a nervous smile. "I—uh—not to interrupt—I know you're probably really worn out—but, I do have a question to ask…"

Suddenly, he steps past James, and turns his gaze straight to Juliet. "What did you mean by trapping them?..."

Juliet's eyes flash briefly with surprise, her gaze immediately meeting James'. She opens her mouth to speak, but hesitates before she does, taking a moment to regain her cool composure. "I mean setting up a kind of trap for the next time they come back. They're just kids, I think just being caught is enough to make them stop. That is, if you're asking for advice." She explained calmly.

Horace blinked. "That makes sense." He continued to not acknowledge James, and took another step toward the blonde, lowering his voice. "Thank you—for helping, I mean—I know we haven't been the most hospitable, but you understand, don't you?" He went on in earnest.

James couldn't help but bristle slightly. Juliet had gone and turned on Others Mode again, and now she stared calm and blank, co

nversing with Horace. He tried to catch her eye, but she was set on putting on that act. It made him angry—not just because he was jealous, though that was another reason—that she could just go back to the way she had been trained in the blink of an eye. He told himself it was because it made him question her alliance—though really, he hated to see the soulful, hopeful Juliet he had come to favor being shoved out of sight once more.

"Of course, I understand. And you've been more than welcoming, considering the circumstances." She replied calmly, almost robotically. The way she speaks… Jesus, she almost sounds like Ben, James thought, shifting uncomfortably.

Horace then suddenly seemed to notice James' presence. "Oh! James—err—Jim, I was looking for you. Thanks for saving Phil." The lanky man behind him bristled with silent fury, glaring a hole into the back of Horace's head.

"'Course, nothing to it." He deflected, wanting to stay as far away from Phil as possible.

"Where's the other three?" Horace continued, spinning on his heels to survey the people finishing their cleaning.

"Daniel and Miles are at the house." Juliet said. "And Jin…" Her voice trailed, looking to James for an answer.

"—Went to help with a window." He continued.

Horace smiled suddenly. "You two seem to get along." He started brightly, seeming to forget about the still-writhing chaos of startled residents behind him, "Are you two—"

"No." Juliet cut across, so quickly and coldly it almost made James jump. He caught her eye briefly, flinching at the icy blankness that still lingered. Snap out of it, Blondie. She seemed to catch the message, letting the tension bleed from her shoulders. A nervous smiled sneaked onto her face. "No, no—but I can understand the confusion."

"Yes—I certainly am irresistible," James picked up smoothly, feeling relieved slightly as Horace laughed as well.

"Of course, my mistake." He said, still beaming as he looked from one of them to the other.

Juliet wanted to sink into the ground. How did I know he would ask that?… She was torn between being angry at herself for taking off the mask and being angry at herself for putting it back on. It felt automatic. When she bantered and joked, it felt right, it felt human. But she couldn't help hearing Ben's voice somewhere in her head: You let your guard down, he would snarl coldly, how could you be so stupid? Don't say I didn't warn you when they take the opportunity to take advantage of you, and then get rid of you. She stiffened, feeling her hands ball up into fists. As infuriated as he made her, she couldn't help but wonder if he was right.

Juliet barely even noticed as Horace continued babbling, and James subtly took a step closer to her, trying to catch her eye. The fury burned out into an icy cold ball of unease that shattered over her head, sending shards of stinging cold across her skin. She managed enough to not jerk back suddenly, but calmly moved a step away. He seemed to understand, at least.

"—and with all the wildlife, it's really hard to focus on everything else. You know, when we ran off that wild cat—" continued the Dharma Mayor, still beaming.

Juliet lifted her gaze as something white crossed the clearing. She looked up and saw a woman in a pristine white lab coat stop abruptly in the middle of the chaos. She had a short, shoulder-length bob of dark brown hair and round coke-bottle glasses almost the size of her head. The short woman spun on her heels, clasping a clipboard close to her chest as she surveyed the damages. Suddenly, her eyes met Juliet's. Does she know we're not one of them?

Her heart skipped a beat as the woman looked her over, adjusted her glasses, and started toward them. She elbowed James sharply, and he looked up.

"That one of 'yer science people?"

Horace turned, his face falling as the woman headed straight for him.

"Molly! I didn't know you were—"

"Dr. Cunningham!" The woman corrected shrilly, marching straight up to Horace. They stood face-to-face, though she was even shorter than he was. Despite her height, she was sizzling with fury. "You said you'd handle this!" She yelled, continuing to gesture wildly at her surroundings. "And we've talked about this!" This time, she pointed directly to James.

"Hold 'yer horses Scully, what's the issue?" James butted in, stepping between the two.

Molly balled her hands up into fists. "See?! This is why you don't pick up random people out of the jungle."

Horace crossed his arms and frowned. "I didn't pick them out of the jungle. They saved one of our members from the Hostiles and are helping us. They're valuable assets."

Juliet and James exchanged a glance. What? Mouthed James, and Juliet couldn't help but smirk.

"Don't tell me they're staying, you told me we've been having issues—that you said you'd fix—and now—"

"I am too fixing them." Horace insisted, thought he began to fidget with the sleeves of his jumpsuit. "Pierre made me the manager for a reason." Then, he nodded toward Juliet. "We're planning right now, aren't we?"

Before Juliet had a chance to say anything, Molly spun to face her, as if seeing her for the first time.

"And you are?" She demanded hotly, glaring up at the much taller, much less angry Juliet.

"Juliet. We're part of a shipwrecked crew." She answered, taking a step back as James stepped forward.

"Leave her alone, sweet-cheeks." He drawled, glaring down at the scientist, who was unmatched in her spite. "We ain't involved in any of this, all we did was save some girl from the Jungle Crew and we got ourselves a place to look for the rest of our people."

Molly got right up in his face. "You're very involved, according to Horace. What exactly are you planning?"

Horace gently tugged on the sleeve of her lab coat, wanting to de-escalate. Suddenly, she whirled on him, shoving the clipboard in his face. "Thirty incidents since January! They threw eggs on the computers!"

"We're fixing it!" Horace fired back, realizing a scene was being made. "They helped us chase them off and suggested a plan. And they volunteered to help clean up without being asked."

"They're doing the things your security should be doing!" She snapped, pointing directly at Phil, who raised his hands defensively.

"Listen lady, I don't—"

"Half of our security team is dead." Horace went on earnestly, his eyes suddenly filling with emotion, voice quieting. "And we would have lost another if it weren't for them."

Molly did not look at all affected, instead sighing and throwing up her hands in defeat. "Fine. Have it your way. You are the mayor, and I'm just a scientist." With that, she spun around with a dramatic flap of her lab-coat and stomped off.

"Jesus, the quality control here is…." Juliet started, exchanging another glance with James, who grinned.

"Dharma mystery indeed."

Horace blinked, then sighed. "I'm sorry, she's—she's one of Pierre's assistants, I believe." He looked up at the ship-wreckers. "Thank you, really, I don't know what would have happened—I mean, if you weren't there…" His gaze drifted to Amy, who stood hugging herself next to one of the houses. Another, older woman stepped out of the house with a broken window and went to talk to her. She seemed nice enough, tugging a bathrobe around herself and putting a hand on the younger woman's shoulder.

"We're glad to help, but we don't want to get you in trouble." Juliet said calmly.

"You're not getting me in trouble, I'm—I'm not in trouble." Horace smiled and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jumpsuit. "We just aren't very organized yet, but don't worry!"

"I ain't worried, believe me," breathed James, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Juliet caught his eye once more, and this time they both smiled.

The bright, eye-searing fluorescent lights of the upper chamber of the security office continued to flicker and buzz dully. The security building was extremely small on the outside, barely half the size of a typical bungalow. Inside, one was greeted with a small l-shaped room, sporting two large iron doors at the back, behind the reception desk. In the smaller branch of the room was a seating area and a door leading into the other side of the building—a small one-room office. The "office" contained several small desks with phones and typewriters, with unmarked file cabinets and shelves living the wall. The desktops were covered in stacks of paper and abandoned, half-full coffee mugs. The room was devoid of windows except for a large one-way window looking into the reception, and on the other side, several small brick-sized windows up against the ceiling on the opposite wall.

Though the bright white lights were overpowering, the darkness outside was giving way to a thin band of bright pink creeping up from the horizon, just barely peeking through the small windows. A group consisting of Horace, Miles, Jin, Juliet, James, and Phil had gathered in the small room to converse. Though several metal fans blared loudly from the top of the filing cabinets, the room as stiflingly hot and humid, so much so that beads of condensation had formed on the inside windowpanes.

Juliet had seated herself on one of the emptier desks, careful not to disturb the stacks of paper sitting nearby. She knew it wasn't any of her business, but Dharma would at least have the sense to put away their private information, right? She let her gaze drift over the top sheet of paper, which was mostly obscured by a scribbled-on envelope.

"INCIDENT REPORT (PAGE THREE OF THREE, ADDENDUM FOUR)- 'SUBJECT 13 HEAD COLLAPSE'

JULY 13th, 1974

-, the situation was handled accordingly, and further actions are being taken to prevent such an event in the future. The amount of witnesses was substantially low, but ideally there would be none. Our main offices suggest more quality control, and a rescheduling of the most recent future inspection. They also suggested another cadaver dog be added to the K9 unit, but—"

Frowning, she moved to tug the corner of the paper to see the rest of the paragraph, but she stopped as James leaned up against the desk next to her.

"You gonna start planning, or should I?" He prodded, nodding to where Horace was looking at their group in earnest.

Juliet shifted nervously. "Anything we say should be taken with a grain of salt, we've only experienced these kids once, and barely know anything about them."

"Exactly," Phil cut her off, crossing his arms, "they don't know anything—and this is the third time they've targeted me specifically."

"Maybe there's a problem with you, then?" Jabbed Miles, who had been upset with the current conditions and was therefore snappier.

Phil's eyes flashed for a moment, and he looked as if he threatened to step forward but shrunk back with a sniff as James rose to his feet.

Juliet's eyes fell on Jin, who had been quiet. She had a feeling he hadn't simply gone to fix a window when they had split up. Though she was good at it, and very accurate, she hated to read people. It felt like invading their privacy. Jin, however, was practically bleeding tension, and she made a mental note to check up on him later.

Horace raised his hand tentatively, trying to deescalate. "Easy, easy—it's fine. We—we'll figure it out, I'm sure." He waited for everyone to quiet, then sighed.

"Do you mean a physical trap? As in, a net?" He questioned.

Juliet turned to James. He had taken initiative getting them in here, at least. But everyone was silent—and looking at her. She shifted uncomfortably, becoming suddenly aware she was the only one being asked.

"James. What do you think?" She started, holding his gaze calmly.

He seemed shocked that she asked, rearing back slightly. James looked her over, trying to decide exactly what she was trying to do. It wasn't that he didn't trust her, but—It was complicated. However, there wasn't time to argue now, when there was an audience.

"I don't know, I'm not the one being asked," he continued letting a bit of his jealousy at having Juliet being favored seep out. He crossed his arms and looked away before he could see her reaction. His mind ran, unsure of how to handle this. I got us in, what else does she want? Is she trying to dig me into more lies?

Juliet's eyes flashed with brief surprise, but there was no time and no room to bite back—she had to just pick it up and run with it. Before any emotions could wash over her fully, she formed a response.

"Well, we'd have to take a look at how they operate. I know they certainly aren't a complicated, highly-planned group—but it would be helpful. By what I've seen, they come in and exit from the same general area. If they do that every time, we could potentially place a trap where they cross the expanse between the jungle and the houses. In that case, physical trap." She felt the mask slip gradually back into place, though she was thankful it was on before she could feel hurt.

Horace brightened. "That could work! As far as I know, they come in and out from the same place—but we could check the security tapes. And if they do it the same way every time, we could place a trap."

Miles, who was getting bored, slumped up against a filing cabinet. "We can use Phil as bait."

Before Phil had a moment to respond, noises sounded from the half-open door to the reception. Juliet looked up as someone else crossed the doorway, a short, stocky hunch-backed man with long sandy hair, pushing a janitor's cart. She caught the labels of 'Roger' and 'Workman' on his jumpsuit.

"Oh, sorry Roger," Horace said quickly, "I forgot you were scheduled here—"

"I ain't, but after this last 'incident', some asshole asked me to pick up his shift." He growled, scanning the group.

Juliet started suddenly as their eyes met, her heart catching briefly in her throat. Another strange side effect of being an Other, getting feelings about people. Not even something specific—just a feeling. This was a very bad, bad feeling—but she tried her best not to let it show as Roger ventured a step into the office.

"'Suppose these are our new recruits?" He continued. Even James seemed to be made uncomfortable.

"Easy Chief, we're just helping a man out with some… business."

"Better than 'yer dang security," Roger went on, spinning to face Horace, who blinked obliviously.

James eyed the shorter Roger, who seemed to be hostile to everyone, it seemed. "What, you got any advice?"

"Yeah, actually. Shoot 'em."

Horace burst into nervous laughter. "R-Roger, we don't need to—"

Roger put up his hands defensively, and it became very obvious he wasn't kidding.

"You can't just shoot children, 'workman'." Shot Miles, who seemed the least uncomfortable of all of them.

Roger took a few steps toward him. "My name isn't 'work-man.'" He began to stay something derogatory, but before he could Miles stood abruptly. Horace stepped between them, still trying to calm everyone.

"Okay, okay—let's just cool it everyone! Please, there's nothing to get upset about," he went on, trying to gently shoo Roger away.

James blinked, and then sat back down, eyes on the janitor. "It ain't the worst idea," he shrugged.

Juliet turned to glare at him. "James!—" she scolded.

"Hey, all I'm sayin' is that it's the easiest way. That don't mean I want to shoot a kid." He turned, speaking directly to her now. She hesitated for a split second, wondering if he was purposely trying to intimidate her.

Deciding she wouldn't take the chance, Juliet stood up to face him. "Nobody's shooting anyone, truce or not. They're just kids, the worst they've brought is eggs and rocks—it isn't going to be hard to handle this peacefully."

Roger backed up a step, scoffing as he swayed on his feet. He looked between the two of them.

"Can't make up 'yer dang mind."

He began heading slowly to the doorway, but before he did, he spun on his heels to face James.

"If you stick around, maybe we could have a beer sometime." He said, waving a hand amicably. Even James seemed surprised by the offer. Before he could respond, however, Roger grabbed his janitor cart and moved out of sight.

Juliet, still bristling, kept her eyes firmly on James.

James spared a quick glance in Horace's direction. He felt a pang of anger in his heart, yearning to suddenly snap. He couldn't look like a dang idiot in front of, well—the point was that he couldn't let his guard down. Not even here. Especially not here. Still, a part of him held back as he went to stare at Juliet. She faced him with a glare that could curdle milk, meeting his eyes without a single moment of hesitation. He bristled, torn between showing her up to make an impression and trying to work this out. What's her issue? Why is she so dang concerned?

"Listen, Chief, I never said we were gonna shoot 'em. You really think I'd do that to a kid? I'm glad you trust me that much, Barbie!" He was aware all eyes were on them but couldn't stop himself.

"James." She cut across him in that voice, the one that made his heart stop. For a moment, he was taken back to the Hydra, when they first met. He flinched, wondering exactly how much they trusted each other.

Suddenly, Jin stepped between them, turning to face James. "Leave her alone." He said, voice still wavering with unfamiliarity.

Juliet blinked, surprised. She wasn't used to people doing that, protecting her. And Jin…. After everything her people have done to him, he stepped forward. Still, she sensed his unease, and realized she needed to just let the situation go until they were alone. They couldn't do this in front of Horace.

Gently, she pushed past Jin, and turned to speak to James.

"I'm sorry, I never meant to imply that." She stepped forward, lowering her voice. "You know that's not what I meant, but we can't start this here."

He held her gaze unwaveringly for a few moments, and she could see the gears turning in his mind. Finally, he sighed, turning away.

"Fine. I'm going outside, you do the plannin', Oh Great Huntress." He pushed past her and walked out of the door and out of sight.

Juliet pushed down her anger, realizing she was now the only leader in the room. All eyes fell upon her once more. She felt the familiar twinge of fear and nervousness that came with being the center of attention. In Othersville, that was always the last thing she wanted to be. But she was aware all the responsibility was now on her, and even if James was being—well, a dick—she wasn't going to kick him out of their group just for that.

Someone stepped up next to her, and she realized Miles was standing beside her. "Let's look at the cameras, and then place a trap."

Juliet blinked at him, then smiled.

"Of course," began Horace, adjusting his glasses, "we can view the tapes downstairs, and then start planning." With that, he turned and walked out of the door, leading the way into the reception and pushing open one of the iron doors, revealing stairs leading downward.

It took a moment for Miles' eyes to adjust to the darkness as he drifted to the very back of the procession. A concrete staircase appeared in front of him, leading down into a hallway. Carefully, he felt for a rail, but his hand only met the cool concrete walls. The stairwell was shrouded in darkness, but another bright fluorescent light flickered at the very bottom. Miles watched the rest of the group make their way down the stairs, following quietly behind him. He felt the familiar pull of introversion, wanting to fall as far back from people as he could. Ever since that vision, he felt ice-cold dread prickling down his spine throughout the morning. It only got worse when what's-his-face—Work Man—came around.

Of all the decades I could have been back in.

Each step was slower and more hesitant than the last, partly because he was descending further into the darkness, and partly because the voices up ahead grated more and more on his anxieties. He reached the final step, his boot hovering over the concrete floor of the hallway, as he looked up to nervously take in his surroundings.

That's when he felt it—a hot, stinging pseudo-pain in the back of his head. He winced, reaching up to rub the back of his head. As his hand contacted the back of his head, he froze—swearing he felt a drop of blood. He drew back his hand, but there wasn't anything there. The pain blossomed until it was white-hot, and Miles leaned back against the cool concrete wall. His legs tensed, and he could feel them struggling to keep him upright. The smooth concrete covered with icy droplets of condensation helped to ground him slightly, but the burning heat grew and grew.

God—this is the last place I want this to happen. Every thought was slurred, his internal monologue being muddled with someone else's, like a kind of interference. He felt his consciousness slipping, and he knew he was screwed when he couldn't even feel the cool underground air, as it had given way to hot, sticky, oppressively heavy jungle air. He hated the loss of control, the physical feelings, and he knew the more this consumed him the harder it would be to get out—

'I shouldn't have come into the jungle—it was a stupid idea—I just wanted to explore—I didn't want to end up like this.

Strained voices, yelling, rough hands pushing and shoving and grabbing, twisting in tangled, dirty locks of brown hair. A woman's sob pierced the air, silencing the singing birds.

"Please—don't do this—I won't tell, I promise—" Her cries were cut short by the cold sensation of a gun barrel pressing into the back of her scalp.

I'm sorry.'

Before Miles could hear the click of the gun, he felt a sudden ice-cold sensation pour over his face and soak his shirt. At first, he thought he was drowning, but the rush of cold water thankfully snapped him back to reality.

"What's wrong with you, Phil?!"

"I was waking him up, you're welcome."

"Do you want him to go into shock? Stand back." Juliet's voice entered the conversation, sounding slightly irritated for once. Miles grimaced, taking in the blurry surroundings.

"I pass out for one dang second—and you're already fighting over me." Miles managed, though not as smooth as he liked. He shoved himself to his feet, wanting to stand before someone offered a hand.

Before anyone could ask, Miles' hands flew up dismissively. "I'm fine, don't anybody worry about it."

"Not like I was worried in the first place." Snapped Phil, trying to regain his dignity, though nobody was listening to him at this point.

Juliet, however, wasn't going to take this 'I'm fine' business as easily as everyone else, he could tell by the way she sternly caught his eye. Don't try it. Not here. He tried to convey with a glance, before shouldering past Horace before any more questions were asked of him. He squinted, getting a good view of the room before him.

The double iron doors, fitted with tiny square windows, opened into a small, dreary-looking concrete box of a room. On the opposite wall were nine screens embedded into some kind of wood-painted cheap framing, which matched the messy, half-assed looking panels of buttons and switches that sat in front of the wall. On the screens were fuzzy, monochrome, teal-tinted views of several areas around the barracks. However, the night-vision was—as typical of the Barracks, it seemed—not amazing quality, and didn't show much more than a few waving ferns and leaves in the foreground, and a light-colored smudge that was apparently the sidewalk.

Another man in a Dharma jumpsuit spun around in one of the cheap office chairs in front of the monitors to face them, having apparently not heard the commotion. Miles' eyes drifted to the man's hand, which held a half-eaten brownie. That would explain it. Miles raised his eyes to the security emblem on his suit, reading the name Jerry branded underneath it.

Jerry stared blank and unfocused, taking more than a few minutes to process what was happening.

"Didn't mean to interrupt, erm—" Horace began, and then faltered nervously. He stepped into Miles' line of sight, quickly holding up some kind of rag. "Here—"

Miles, feeling the pressure of being completely surrounded more and more, itching to get away from all the attention. He begrudgingly accepted the rag and tried his face half-heartedly, still taking around the room.

Phil had shouldered unsympathetically past Miles, slipping behind Jerry and stuffing the remaining brownies into the pocket of his jumpsuit before anyone else saw.

Juliet was the last to step in, but she could barely keep her eyes off Miles. Her chest felt tight, but she knew everything was depending on her right now. Between James, keeping up the façade, Miles, Daniel at home, Jin acting weird—it's my fault for getting involved. If I had taken my chance and left when I could—She stopped the selfish though before it fully formed, feeling guilt hit her like a truck. She took a breath, steadying herself, trying to assure herself the thought had not come from her—it was from him, and all she had to do was ignore it.

'You haven't even lasted a week without wasting all your time and energy caring about people who despise you.' The voice almost sounded empathetic, in a sick way. 'Take one look at them and tell me they're going to repay it. Miles looks like he just wants to getl away from you.'

If I had left, I'd still worry about them. Even more so. If I left, I could never have lived with myself. She bit back, trying to somehow force the thoughts away.

'That doesn't sound healthy at all. In fact, I'd say you're just clinging to them. God knows why,' He started to sound realer by the second.

"Get out of my head." She demanded under her breath, gritting her teeth with the effort.

"Huh?"

She had only realized she had said it out loud—though barely audible, thank god—as 'Jerry' spun in his chair to face her with blown-out pupils and very, very red eyes.

"Nothing," Juliet breathed, stepping forward. The room was cold and made her feel closed in, for once she longed for the hot jungle air. She made her way toward the monitors, then let her gaze drift to the colorful dials and buttons on the panel below.

"Okay!" Horace called cheerily from somewhere she couldn't see, suddenly coming out of a door on one side of the room that she hadn't noticed before, carrying a tape. "This has both the last two incidents on it."

"Let's look at tonight's first," Juliet advised, thankful for the distraction. "Then we can look at the others and see if they're getting in the same way every time."

Horace, glad to have someone to help plan, nodded earnestly. "Of course—Jerry, how do I—" He frowned, beginning to fumble distractedly with the buttons and dials.

Juliet's gaze lifted to find Jerry staring at her—or vaguely in her direction, at least—and very slowly pushing the whole remains of his brownie into his mouth, looking completely zoned out. Dharma has a team of real winners, I see.

Gradually, Horace got control of the screen and turned the dial back, all of the monitors flickering suddenly and showing different images. Juliet leaned forward, hands on the desk—though careful not to touch any buttons—and watched the fuzzy playback. At once, all other concerns slipped away as she began to focus on the middle monitor.

Monitor number five had the clearest view of a sight Juliet knew too well—the pylons. They still looked shiny and new, even on the fuzzy screen. Horace punched a button to speed the playback, making the lazily waving ferns on the corners of the screen begin to bob up and down quickly. Juliet leaned in, searching for any non-uniform movement.

"There." She said, raising a finger to the top right corner of the fifth monitor. Horace let it play normally at once, watching her as she studied the figures on screen. Four kids, laughing and shoving one another playfully, dressed in hiking garb. The girl at the head walked straight up to one of the pylons—the one that was crooked, bent forward at an angle, Juliet noticed—and stuck her foot into the bend in the metal outside of the pylon. With one foot leveraged and one of her teammates shoving her upward, she was able to swing her legs over the other side and slide off.

Juliet knew how they'd get back out, too—the way the ground was raised over the pylon base on the other side, she knew someone with a good running start would be able to step up the incline far enough to grab the edge, and from there leverage over. Just as long as they were careful not to swing their legs into the range of the sonar, they could make it in and out unharmed.

"Is this the only pylon bent like that?" She turned to Horace.

He adjusted his glasses, thinking. "As far as I know. A few of them had crumpled, and that's the only one we haven't fixed yet." Juliet didn't let her thoughts linger on what, exactly, could crumple such a strong metal.

"Do you have footage of the grassy area around the Barracks?"

"The Outlands? No, but we have them periodically on the road that circles 'round it. If they come out of the jungle there the same way each time, I guess we have our place?"

Juliet nodded affirmatively. Further inspection of the other tapes proved it. These hooligans were kids, not criminal masterminds—it would make a good deal of sense they'd go in and out the same way. Juliet watched each step on each bit of footage, her mind going through every possible thing. Bait, somehow? An empty van with the keys still in it would be tempting for the teenagers, she knew, but she didn't know if she wanted to risk a perfectly functioning van. A snare to catch one by their ankle? No, would probably result in injury, or would be seen before it could be triggered.

Miles watched the footage play back over and over behind her. She looked up at him. "Anything to add?"

Miles, who didn't expect to be asked for advice, shrugged. "On a trap, you mean? I dunno, grease up the pylon?"

Juliet frowned. "We don't want to hurt them, and I also don't see how that would be a trap."

He scoffed. "Dang, that's all I got. Sorry."

Jin had approached on her other side, but she didn't notice him until he spoke.

"Stuck. They could get stuck." He started, pointing to the shot frozen on monitor five that showed one of the kids using the bend in the pylon as a foothold.

Juliet blinked, going over it in her mind. If the foothold was made tighter, somehow, or even if some kind of gentle snare could be placed there, it could work. The first unlucky kid to shove their foot in there would certainly prevent the others from going in as well, but the only problem would be having to get there before they helped out their friend.

She expressed this to Horace, nodding to Jin as a thanks for the suggestion. As she talked, she noted the look in his eyes. Something was bothering him, she could tell. Thankfully, the matter of the trap was settled. That was one less thing she had to worry about for now.

"It's settled, then. We'll fix the pylon and have someone sitting out there to spring on them." Horace agreed, glancing proudly around at the shipwreckers. "You're all quite the team, you know? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're the Captain," he laughed amicably, with a nod to Juliet.

She stiffened but plastered a smile across her face. She just wanted to get back out into fresh air as soon as possible. "There's a reason I'm not, but I'll take that as a compliment. Thank you, Horace."

Horace began leading the way out to Juliet's relief. "Don't mention it!—Oh, god, look at the time—Sorry I kept you down here so long, you all must be starving. Cafeteria's open! If anyone asks, tell 'em H sent you." He didn't stop smiling the whole time he led the way up the stairs. "And if you need anything, I'll be around! I'll give you guys an hour or two to recover, you probably need it." With that, he opened the front door to the security office, giving Juliet a mock salute, still beaming.

The one thing about the island Juliet never seemed to get used to was how early the sun rose (and how late it set). The clock in the security office had only said quarter to five in the morning, but already the sky above was turning from pitch-black to a milky, desaturated indigo. It would always turn this murky color just before sunrise, giving the stars just a little longer to shine and sparkle before the bright sun would chase them away. The streetlamps had just turned off, and porch lights were beginning to flick on as well, most of the houses now having at least one window lit as the Dharma residents continued on with their morning.

The small, shed-like security building sat in a grassy island in the middle of an oval loop of sidewalk, extending in both directions. The one right out from the door of the office went one way before branching into several street-like winding paths, which in turn, sprouted more alley-like walkways. Immediately out of the office, one would be faced with the back of one of the larger houses (the west side of the Barracks seemed have larger, more luxurious houses, while the east side housed the smaller ones.) The side exiting the security office was completely lined with houses and sidewalks, but the one on the other side of the building was lush with a large patch of trees, obscuring the view of the Outlands on that side.

Juliet had to admit it was unnerving seeing the Barracks so clean and active and lived-in, instead of hollow, rotting remains with a few people taking advantage of them. The lack of streetlights meant the area was lit only by the dim, pale-blue light emanating from above, along with soft rays of pale gold shining from the lit windows. Some people had opened their windows and doors or had simply only closed the iron or screen outer doors, to let in the morning air.

It was—pleasant, outside. The eerie, dread-inducing atmosphere that always hung over the houses when Ben's people were occupying them had suddenly lifted, and for a moment it looked as normal as any other neighborhood. Despite it being early, the air was already quite warm. Dewdrops sparkled on the greenery and dripped down the sides of the houses, gathering on rooftop eaves and broad leaves to dribble down into small puddles like raindrops. The greens of the scenery and the yellows of the houses seemed so vivid.

An earthy scent, reminiscent of freshly cut grass, pervaded the air, along with the typical hints of citrus and flower-scent that always accompanied the island breezes. Small island birds, which resided in Dharma's trees and fed off of litter, sang back and forth to one another, sounding so much tamer than the shrieks and caws of the bigger jungle birds. Even in the early morning hours, Juliet could hear people talking and walking quietly. The sound of dishes clinking, water running, and rugs being shaken out emanated from open windows, and a lawnmower started up somewhere in the distance. It seemed almost perfect.

"So, Miss Other, where are we goin' next?" James drawled from somewhere behind her, making her start.

"Jesus, James," she sighed, then met his eyes coolly.

He grinned, flashing his dimples, as if he had forgotten the conflict in the security office in favor of playful banter. "What, your spidey-senses not workin' today? You usually sneak up on us, quiet as a cat."

"I don't sneak up on people," Juliet countered, holding his gaze. They shared a glance for a long moment, before James shoved his hands in his pockets and jerked his head in the direction of the security office.

"Havin' fun bein' the leader of our little group?"

"Don't tell me you're jealous," she returned calmly, watching his brows pinch together as he scoffed.

"Hey, I got us two weeks and talked to Richard, and that's more than I had to do." His tone was dismissive, but he began to fidget nervously.

Juliet looked around out of the corner of her eye to make sure they weren't being watched by any curious residents. Then, she lowered her voice, the playfulness disappearing from her eyes. "If you have a good reason for snapping at me, now would be a good time to express it."

James looked away from her, eyes darkening. She was giving him that attitude, the cool, emotionless tone that admittedly pissed him off. That, and she called him jealous. Not that he wasn't, but he sure wasn't going to admit it to Wonder Woman, or anyone else for that matter.

"Whatever you think I am, whatever you've read about me in my file—I ain't that. I conned our way in, if you want to get me more involved in this than I should be, I ain't gonna stand for it."

Juliet felt a twinge of pain, somewhere in the back of her mind, but tried her best to ignore it. 'I don't know what else you expected. If you thought they were all going to be your friends after everything you've done—then, well—I've overestimated your intelligence, Juliet.'

"I was never trying to get you to do anything. You told Horace you were the Captain, not me. I'm trying to keep up the façade to keep us safe, that's all I want to do. I'm not trying to compete with you or make you jealous, James.

James meets her gaze, unwavering, but he flinches internally. She's always so dang accurate, it's hard to hide it. "And I'm not tryin' to accuse you of nothin' either, but I'm jus' sayin'," he says huskily, "you're the only one we have the most reason not to trust, and you're the one with the least reason to help without askin' for anythin' in return."

Juliet felt her heart crack in her chest, the pain spreading across her skin like ice-cold raindrops. She didn't know what else she expected. She couldn't help but hang her head slightly.

'I saw that coming from a mile away, Juliet, and you would have seen it too—if you were actually looking for it.' Juliet flinches at how real Ben sounds to her now, tries her best not to let it show. The thing she hated the most about Ben was how right he could be.

"Fine," she responds icily, not letting his eyes see through her own, "If you want to think of me like that, I don't blame you, and you don't have to change your mind. If you want to come to the cafeteria you can, but I'm not going to force you."

They hold each other's gazes for a long time, until James lifts his eyes to see that Miles and Jin are both standing with Juliet. The temptation to impulsively break from the group is so strong, the sickly-sweet self-pity in his chest starting to grow. However, he sighs defeatedly.

"Fine. For the sake of the group, let's go."

Sure, he didn't expect Juliet to be his best friend, but she didn't have to go out of her way to put him down just to make an impression on Dharma's oh-so-observant mayor. If she's got the right to accuse me of bein' on board to shoot some rowdy teenagers, I sure got the right to call her suspicious, he reasoned, letting himself drift to the back of the procession, keeping his eyes on the ground for the most part.

He stopped as he heard a noise from one of the houses. Turning in its direction, James' eyes fell upon an open window of one of the nicer houses. It was open, except for the screen, and he could catch a glimpse of a kitchen inside. It looked nice, despite having the sickly-yellow color scheme everything in the Barracks seemed to have. He heard a toaster pop, the coffeemaker buzzing, water running, the sounds of a busy morning kitchen. A few bits of dialogue drifted toward him.

"Pierre, are there still glasses in your office?" A woman's voice sounded from somewhere just out of sight. There was a muffled response from somewhere else deeper in the house.

"Well, can you bring them here?—What? No, I don't have your tall black cup. Did you leave it somewhere else?—" Her voice faded as she moved out of range.

James let his gaze linger on the scene inside the window. For a moment, it sounded like his own house. He barely remembered it now, but she sounded like his mother getting him up for school and bustling in the kitchen. He could never hear the sound of a busy kitchen without thinking of her. Suddenly, movement caught the corner of his eye.

"Well, if it ain't Jinbo!" James greeted him, "Had enough of She-Ra for the day?" He asked, noticing he had also drifted behind, probably to come get him after he himself had lagged behind too far.

Jin beckoned for him to keep walking, and so he fell into step beside him, hands in his pockets. However, James could tell there was something he wanted to say.

"Don't tell me she sent you back her with a message for me." He began, nodding to where he could see Juliet and Miles up ahead.

Jin shook his head, then turned to meet his gaze. "Juliet… is a good person." He said earnestly.

James huffed, more than a bit frustrated everyone was so willing to white-knight for her. "And I ain't?"

Jin frowned. "Not a traitor. Be nice to her." He expressed firmly.

"You sure you didn't lose a bet or somethin'?" I'm guilty enough as it is, don't rub it in, god dangit.

"Sawyer," he started again, "you don't know if—you never know—if you never see her again."

James couldn't hold his gaze after that. Instead, he let his head drop and kept walking in silence. That was, after all, one of the good things about Jin; he was a man of few words.

Gradually, the dim light seeping into the barracks changed to a pale pink, then a vivid sherbet-orange, and finally a bright golden as the sun rose from behind the mountains. James huffed, squinting in the brightness, suddenly becoming more aware of people on the pathways around him. Most of them wore jumpsuits, others wearing loose-fitting summer clothes. They walked from place to place, sat on benches, went in and out of the houses, chattering nonstop all the while. They didn't even seem to notice or care as the outsiders walked through their midst. Suddenly, the sidewalk became wider, and turned into a kind of main street. The buildings along the group's walk had transitioned from larger houses, to smaller houses, and finally, to larger communal buildings. By what James could gather, there were two clusters of public buildings; one near the security station, and one on the opposite side of the Barracks, containing the rec center.

They passed the rec center, and a flat-looking building that bore no sign or symbol identifying it. Finally, they arrived at the Cafeteria. It was another single-story yellow building, like the surrounding houses, but it was set apart by its rather tall gable roof. It also had stone accents in a few sparse places, something none of the other houses had, the most noticeable of which was a chimney-like backpiece that rose just above the peak of the roof. It, like the rec center, had a porch, and a front with a pair of iron doors and some large, nearly floor-to-ceiling windows, covered with a thin metal grate rather than a screen. It also had a lawn, uncharacteristic of the surrounding houses, which contained an assortment of picnic tables. A few yards north of the lawn was another, patio-like structure which had the same stone chimney rising from its back, sporting a concrete floor and a few more picnic tables. The iron doors to the cafeteria were propped open with a kind of rag that had been wedged underneath each door.

James didn't remember this place from his own stay at the Barracks in the past—future? Future—in fact, he didn't remember a lot of the scenery. It sure didn't have as many houses, it wasn't this squeaky clean, wasn't this crowded, and some of these buildings were straight up not there. Then again, they could have been in the numerous piles of rubble that sat here and there around the neighborhood, probably the remains of the other buildings. The most striking difference, however, was the people. They were just pouring in and out of the Cafeteria, sitting at and on the tables, standing around aimlessly in the grassy area in front, not giving the smallest fraction of a dang as four outsiders walked in their midst.

In fact, they didn't seem to be giving a dang about anything. As James walked down the small stretch of sidewalk leading to the entrance, he noticed a bunch of young Dharma folk sitting in a circle in the grass, laughing like drunk teenagers. He caught snippets of some conversation, but mostly he could hear a familiar bubbling noise, followed by coughing and more laughter, between every few words. James stopped, blinked incredulously, and looked at everyone else. Nobody seemed to notice or care. Granted, it was the seventies, but still.

Juliet blinked, in awe of the sheer amount of people inside. She had never seen the inside of the cafeteria before, not that it would have looked as well preserved as it was now. It was a relatively large square room with grey walls and floor, full of the same picnic tables as outside. On one side there was a lunch line reminiscent of a school cafeteria, behind which were a few doors leading back into what was presumably a kitchen. There was another pair of iron doors on the back wall, though these had no windows, and sported the message "DO NOT ENTER" written plainly across it. The grey walls were sparsely decorated with posters, warnings, messages, and a few corkboards sporting community flyers. The room wouldn't have looked out of place in a YMCA.

Before Juliet could take another minute to regroup, someone suddenly stepped in front of her.

"Oh shit, sorry." Said the man, who appeared to be in his late teens. He blinked at them, then tipped his head to one side. "Hey, you the people from the shipwreck?" He asked, more curious than anything.

Juliet was taken aback by how casually he asked. "I—yes, actually, how did you know?"

He shrugged. "Word gets around quick here y'know. Good to see some new faces."

James finally caught up to the rest of the group, moving to stand beside Juliet. "And you are?"

"Lyle! My uncle works here." He returned, not sensing James' annoyance, still smiling amicably.

"I'm Juliet," she offered a handshake, which Lyle took gladly. "Boy, times sure are crazy. Say, did you hear about—"

Before he could continue, he saw someone else across the cafeteria. Immediately dropping Juliet's hand, he moved to greet them. "Dude, what's up!"

Juliet sighed, watching him disappear into the throng of people. She had hoped, a bit unrealistically, they'd be able to slip through the radar unnoticed, though she had to admit it could have been worse; they could have been angry or suspicious. She glanced at James, something which she had formed a habit of, and one which was apparently mutual, as he was looking back at her with a raised eyebrow.

As it turned out, the Dharma people were a friendly bunch. An extremely friendly bunch. In fact, they couldn't even get into the lunch line without people walking up to them or involving them in something as if they had lived there the whole time. Before she had even gotten a plate in her hands, Juliet had known more about Paul's brother, Heather's weekend, the latest gossip about Phil's girlfriend, a he-said-she-said remark about Amy, and Rosie's friend's sister's party last week than she had ever wanted to know.

"At least they ain't kickin' us out." Offered James, as they finally sat down after being trapped in a conversation for god-knows-how-long. Juliet had never been a people person, but she'd never been an introvert either, but after today she never wanted to speak to another person for weeks. Miles, on the other hand, was noticeably suffering. Juliet couldn't help but sense his discomfort and had tried her best to keep the friendly Dharma folk from involving him as much as possible.

"I'm beginning to see why your people got rid of 'em." He remarked to Juliet, who froze momentarily.

She sighed. "I wasn't involved in that, but it was probably a deeper reason than that."

"I'd have a hard time believin' Richard would let a bunch of hippies build all over the island like this." James added, looking over the top of his cup of orange juice as yet more people came into the Cafeteria.

"I doubt Horace asked for permission." Miles shrugged, continuing to pick at his food. After a moment of silence, he pushed away his plate. "You know what, I'm not even hungry. Actually, I should be getting Dan a plate."

"You need to at least eat something," Juliet chided him, handing him an orange. Miles paused, before slowly reaching out to take it with a nod.

"I'll… I'll take this and take a plate to Dan."

Juliet gave him a smile as he left, then turned back to her own plate. Her appetite had decreased since she had been on the island, she never felt like eating, especially after being officially trapped here. She stared down at the food she had been served, and though it was school-cafeteria quality, it somehow looked more appetizing than any food served to her in her three years with the Others.

She glanced up over at James, who stabbed uninterestedly at his plate. Did he really think that way of her? It's not like she could blame him, though. She let her gaze fall into her lap, hating the silence. 'Is it really worth it, to try and save everyone like this?'

It doesn't matter if it's worth it, it's the least I can do.

Juliet hugged her knees close to her chest as she sat in the security office, watching the fuzzy, teal-tinted monitors. A constant mechanical buzz came from somewhere behind the monitor wall, and the droning of the fluorescent lights in the hall was beginning to wear on her. Horace was leaning over the control panel, watching the screens as intently as she was.

"There's no guarantee it will work," she cautioned gently, fearing it would fail and she would let them down. 'Worry, worry, worry—you always worry about everyone else. When will you worry about yourself, Juliet?'

Horace turned to her with a smile, "Hey, it's still better than nothing, right? I mean, I don't think this situation has ever happened to anyone before, right? Nobody would know how to handle this."

She tipped her head to one side, closing her eyes. "'S'pose so, but I don't want this to get anyone in further trouble."

"Nah, you're doin' great, Juliet." Horace seemed friendly as always. "If you'd ever like to join security, let me know." She laughs slightly in response.

They both turn back to the screens, casting a dim light on their faces, and the only light in the security station, other than the hall light that seeped in through the windows. Monitor number five, displaying the clearest view of the bent pylon, was the center of their attention. A harmless snare was hidden in the folds of crumpled metal, and the first kid to get their foot stuck would hopefully be the last. Miles and Phil sat concealed nearby, ready to jump the unsuspecting teenagers. There was no guarantee they'd be back tonight, or that they'd even come in the same way this time.

Horace moved to click on the audio for monitor five, watching the top-right corner of the screen intently. The only sound in the office other than the droning of lights and monitors was Jerry, still no more sober than he was that morning, occupying himself by stacking and unstacking cups.

Suddenly, Horace broke the silence. "Hey, uh—Thanks for saving Amy," he began, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Y-You really didn't have to. And sorry she made you walk into the fence."

Juliet smiled understandingly. "Don't thank me, thank James. He saw them first… and there's no hard feelings over the fence."

Before anything else could be said, the sound of crunching grass made them both look over. Juliet stood as movement flickered on the monitor. Should they go now, to the van that was sitting outside, to be there as soon as possible? Horace held his hand up. "Wait—that might have been Phil, snappin' a twig or something."

Then, a familiar, curly-haired figure stepped into view, followed by her compatriots. Juliet felt relieved that they were back tonight after all but refrained from getting too hopeful. They might have seen the trap being set and be coming back to humor the Dharma folk's attempts to catch them. Still, they seemed to be acting normal, and they gave away no sign that they knew of Miles and Phil sitting nearby.

One of the others, a lanky boy with a mop of sandy hair, moved to the pylon. The others stood nearby talking and shoving one another playfully, as teenagers did. Their friend got a good grip in the metal and hiked up one foot, ready to start climbing. Juliet's heart caught in her throat, hope rising for a brief moment. Suddenly, he froze, and because of the way the pylon was bent, she couldn't see exactly what was happening. That's when the other kids began to look concerned, moving to the pylon.

Then, Miles—brandishing a flashlight,—and Phil—brandishing his pistol—sprang from the bushes, sending them darting in different directions. Only three of them ran, and Juliet sighed with relief as they moved forward and apprehended the kid. Horace leaned back and whistled happily. "Dang, it worked!" He said, beaming. He fished the van keys out of his pocket and moved hastily to the door, Juliet at his heels. Jerry, still focused on his cup-stacking, waved to them as they left.

Juliet had never run up a flight of stairs so fast in her life. They darted past the attendant, sitting at the front desk in the surface office, who looked up abruptly. Horace, of course, tripped on the way to the van, but Juliet helped him up as quickly as she could. She found herself a little hesitant to get into the van—she had never been inside one before, and the only time she'd seen a relatively intact one was the one sitting at the bottom of a hill in a pit of jungle that had a body sitting in it—but in the moment she swung open the door and sat inside quickly. It wasn't until the door clicked shut and the van roared—or sputtered, rather—to life, that she realized this was the first time in three years she had been in a vehicle. Not even the Others used the vans, jeeps, trucks, or unmarked black sedans that had once been in Dharma's possession. Ben, for one, forbid the usage for god-knows-what reason. That, and none of them worked.

Though, they didn't seem much better thirty years earlier, either; as soon as Horace turned on the van, a dial fell off of the radio, and Juliet suddenly realized there were no seatbelts or handles. The van backed up, stopped, went forward, backed up in a different angle, turned around, and then finally began meandering through the sidewalks wide enough to drive it through. They drove down a curving side 'road', leading to the Cafeteria, where a dirt road carved its way from the loading docks around the back of the building, and then down into the dark Outlands. Horace flipped the brights on as soon as they began the downward slope into the meadow, keeping the window rolled down.

"Juliet, take my walkie and try and phone in to Phil, would 'ya?" He said casually, as if he were just having a joyride. She nodded dutifully and took the walkie out of the cupholder, wincing a little as she picked it up. Same exact model as the ones she used in present-day, it even made the same noises when she turned dials and pressed buttons.

She fumbled with the walkie a little, trying not to make it obvious that she had used this walkie so often she could practically work it in her sleep. Finally, a fuzzy voice came over the radio.

"Horace!—We got 'em, says he's gonna tell—" static took over, and Juliet groaned. It did that in present day, too.

"You—uh—might have to yell, they're not very good at picking up sound." Said Horace, talking loudly enough to be heard over the van, which was loudly voicing its displeasure at being driven over coarse dirt. In no time, they began another slope and hit the circular road going around the outside of the Outlands, and eventually turning off here and there into the surrounding temperate jungle.

Juliet stopped herself before she could reply 'I know' and nodded. "Phil, it's Juliet. We're on our way now. Keep him talking."

A staticky response came out from the speaker, before Phil turned off the transmission. She put the walkie back in the cupholder, leaning back against the cheap seats of the van.

"Oh, careful with that seat—" Horace was cut off by the sound of the headrest falling off of the passenger seat. He grinned sheepishly. "We haven't been keeping up with maintenance, really."

After a moment, he kept talking. "Fun, ain't it? This is the most exciting thing I've done in weeks." He beamed, as if on a fun adventure. Juliet was, at least, glad he was having a good time. They rounded a good part of the circular road, and as they did, Juliet glanced out of her window.

From this far away, the Barracks looked like a small town, full of glowing lights, and yet so small compared to the vast, dark Outlands. She had never seen it so lit up before, it was so different from the island she used to know.

Horace slammed the breaks suddenly, and Juliet was barely able to grab the seat in time to stop herself from going through the windshield. A figure darted out in front of them, just a hair from being hit, and dove headfirst into the tall grass. Juliet could barely catch a glimpse of him going further into the meadow. Before he could get far, Miles and Phil came rocketing out of the jungle behind him. Phil went headlong after the escapee, while Miles skidded to a halt to face Horace as he and Juliet swung open the van doors and leapt out.

"Phil let him go! He said he was gonna tell us everything if Phil took his hands off of him, and he bolted!" Miles raged, gesturing wildly at where Phil had entered the grass.

Phil had barely made it a few yards, the far more athletic teenager outpacing him.

"I didn't let him go; you were the one who didn't 'cuff him!" He called over his shoulder, before suddenly tripping and falling out of view into the tall grass. Miles ran around the side of the van, and Juliet and Horace got back in as well.

"Careful with that door, Miles!" Horace shouted over the van grumbling and complaining as it was forced to move forward. Miles looked up, confused, as the door shut.

"What?" He yelled over the commotion of the engine, before the inside handle suddenly broke off in his hand. "Ah, shi—"

"You might want to hold onto something back there!" Said Juliet, gripping her seat for dear life as Horace rerouted the van.

"Think we'll beat him to the houses?' asked Miles, somehow finding the courage to stand in the rickety back end of the van to look out one of the windows.

"Not sure, but I'm sure someone 'oughta see him if he's going right by the rec center. Juliet, toss Miles the walkie, see if he can radio Phil."

The response from Phil was a bunch of out-of-breath, incoherent yelling, interspersed with loud bursts of static. Needless to say, it wasn't very helpful. The van came roaring up the road behind the cafeteria, skidding into the middle of the sidewalk before screeching to a halt. Several Dharma residents had already come out of their houses looking around for any threat. It didn't take long to find Phil, keeled over and out of breath, in the middle of one of the sidewalks.

"What the heck, man!" Horace was the most irritated Juliet had ever heard him. Still, he stopped to see if Phil was ok.

"I lost track of him as soon as we were in the grass," he panted, then stood to glare at Miles. "You didn't 'cuff him when I said! And then you had the nerve to tell Horace I let 'em go!"

Horace gestured frantically for him to stand down. "Okay, okay man, we get it! It's fine, no need to get upset! He can't have gone far; I'll send someone back to make sure he doesn't get back up that pylon. He's still gotta be in the fence somewhere."

But he didn't go back to the pylon. Someone was stationed right at the only place that kid could get out, but he wasn't there. The cameras showed he hadn't gone out in the time between running off and having a guard stationed there, and he hadn't left any other way. He didn't try and get into security or any other buildings. In fact, nobody had seen him at all. It was as if he just disappeared.

Midnight came and went, no word. Eventually, Juliet and Miles were sent home.

"Easy, Miles—you don't want to wake anyone else." She chided as he slammed open the door.

"What is his problem with me?!" He demanded, standing in the entryway as Juliet gently closed the door behind him.

"He probably just doesn't like that you're doing his job better than he is." She offered, moving toward Miles. She knew he wasn't a touchy person, but she couldn't help but put a hand on his shoulder.

Miles froze, tempted to slap her hand right off of him. But, he realized, there wasn't any reason to. His fists clenched and clenched and suddenly, let go, all of the tension bleeding out of him. This had got to be the longest, shittiest day on this island. But he's not gonna snap at Juliet. She's kinda weird and gives him the creeps sometimes, sure, but she's genuine. Even if she's not, he doesn't really care.

"You haven't slept in a whole day," she began, glancing toward Daniel's room.

"Neither have you," he countered, shrugging. "But if you insist," he put up his hands in mock surrender and settled on the couch. "I'll take one for the team and sleep on the sofa."

"Miles, you don't have to sleep there, I'll sleep there." She frowned, crossing her arms.

"Actually, I'm sleepin' there." Drawled James, exiting the kitchen, drinking orange juice straight from the carton as he wandered back toward the couch.

"Now's a good time ta get movin', Chachi."

Juliet sighed. "I never thought I'd see anyone argue over sleeping on the couch."

"And what are you still doin' up yerself, Princess?" James went on, shoving Miles unceremoniously off the couch.

Juliet didn't even know the answer to that question. She was no stranger to going days without sleep, but she sighed. "If there's another bed left, Miles can have it."

"If you ain't Miss Selfless, eh?"

"Unlike you, I'm being polite," she returned, taking the carton from his hand.

"Hey, I was drinkin' that!"

"You'll be drinking it out of a glass, then." She carried it back to the kitchen and put it back in the fridge.

James kicked off his shoes and put his feet up on the couch. "Anyways, I claimed the sofa, so y'all can scram."

Miles groaned. "Sunroom swing it is, I guess."

"I'm not going to force anyone out of a bed," Juliet insisted, feeling deeply uncomfortable at the idea of having the comfortable bed while someone else sleeps on a dang sofa. It was the kind of selflessness she wished could have been trained out of her, but even during three years of Others Bootcamp, it never left.

"Here, how about this, you do me a favor, and then I'll owe you one—givin' up a bed, if you want to be all chivalrous." Miles started.

"And what favor would that be?"

Miles hesitated slightly, before nodding to the first bedroom in the hall. "Check on Dan for me?"

Juliet blinked, not having realized the offer was serious. She looked at the door to the bedroom, and then back at Miles. It wouldn't be enough to get rid of the guilt of having the nice bed, but it would be something. She smiled, holding up a hand in surrender.

"Alright, I suppose that's fair. Goodnight, boys. And make sure to actually sleep." She went on, gently clicking open Daniel's door and slipping inside.

As soon as the door shut, James rubbed his face tiredly. "Some woman, eh?"

"Some woman." Miles echoed half-heartedly in agreement, shrugging and sitting on the living chair next to the couch. "I ain't gonna get much sleep even if I try."

"Wanna stay up and play 'I Spy'?" Sawyer offered sarcastically.

"We'd have to wait 'til Juliet goes to bed first, so she doesn't catch us up past our bedtime." He snorts, though he feels a pang of—thankfulness, maybe?—at her care.

With that they both slumped back in their respective seats, staring up at the ceiling. Juliet came out of Daniels room and went to the bathroom, gathering some towels and other things before going back in. Miles watched her concernedly. He knew James wasn't really pissed about her bein' some kind of traitor or whatever, just that she showed him up. She didn't even mean to, he didn't think. But hey, tensions were high. He wished he had snagged one of those brownies for this exact kind of moment.

Suddenly, a loud, shrill ringing emanated from one of the end tables. Both Miles and James flew up at once, exchanging a confused glance. It sounded a few more times in a row, paused momentarily, then rang again. Shit, there's a phone here? How did I not notice that before?

Miles was the first on his feet, pretty much sprinting past James to be the first to answer. "Hello?"

James was leaning over his shoulder. "It's probably fer me, hot-shot, gimme the phone."

Miles held it out of his reach. "Hello?"

"… Miles? Is James there?" It was Horace, of course it was. Miles couldn't help but roll his eyes. He shoved the phone in James' direction, but he made sure they could both hear it.

"Yeah, Chief? Any particular reason you're calling at four in the morning?"

"… I—Uh—Can you…. Is anyone else listening? Or did anyone else hear the phone ring?"

"Jin sleeps like a rock, but Jules sure heard it." He looked out of the corner of his eye at Miles, who was mouthing 'what?' silently. There was a long silence on the other end.

"…I…Can you come… can you come down toward the rec center?" Horace sounded different. Faint, maybe.

"Somethin' wrong, H?"

Another long silence.

"I'm calling from an empty house near… near the rec center… I just—Can you both come down here?... It's, uh, it's important…" Something was wrong, really wrong.

"Sure…" Miles responded, before James could.

"Oh, and uh…"

"Yeah?"

"…Don't—don't tell anyone else about this… please." Horace hung up.

There was a really, really long silence between them, broken only by the sound of Juliet's voice in the next room over, slightly muffled by the wall.

"Easy, easy, Dan—No, it's not a flash, it was just the phone—" She was saying, and Miles rose slowly.

"Let's go, man." He said. "I got a feeling we should."

"Sneakin' out past our bedtime? Sheesh, hope Barbie ain't awake when we come back."

Miles gently opened the door. He felt bad taking advantage of when she was distracted, but he was getting a nasty, nasty vibe from this whole situation. They both came out onto the pathway and clicked the door shut, venturing toward the rec center.

'Toward the rec center' was not enough direction when it came to the Barracks. They went in circles at least a few times, and James began to wish they had brought Juliet after all. Even with it being completely different from present-day Barracks, she still knew her way around here. God, does she have to show me up in every dang thing? Thankfully, the low-slung rec center came into view. Before they could reach it however, something beckoned them from an alley between two houses.

Horace, as white as a ghost, leaned up against the inner wall of the alley, fidgeting nervously.

"Jesus, Horace, what happened?" Asked James, "Someone knock that smile of 'yer face?"

Horace was silent for a long moment.

"We… Uh... We found him."

"The kid?" Miles prodded; his voice low. Horace gave a slow nod, beginning to make his way back into the alley.

They stepped over the grasses and vines that populated the narrow, dank alley. On the other side, they broke out into a small clearing, walled on all sides by the back ends of the houses. The area was grassy, but a pathway extended from the back door of each house toward the middle. This was the area where trash cans and other things were stashed away from the public eye. What caught James' eye the most, however, was some kind of blanket-covered lump on the edge of where all the sidewalks met.

Horace stumbled shakily to where it was, and gently crouched on the pavement next to it, looking away. Miles froze abruptly, immediately feeling the stinging and aching on his body characteristic of a beating. He moved forward, hearing the thoughts in the form of whispers that got louder, more distinct as he approached. He made a conscious effort to try and block it out, standing as far away as possible as he could. He already knew exactly what was underneath that blanket.

James slowed his steps, feeling his mouth go bone-dry as he saw the crimson soaking through the fabric of the standard-issue blanket. Horace moved forward and gently grabbed one corner of it, and then threw it back in one swift motion, immediately turning to look away, looking as if he might faint at any moment.

James took one look, then pulled the blanket back over. Needless to say, the kid was dead. James didn't recognize him—not that he could even if he knew 'em, with his face the way it was—but he knew it was the kid that escaped. Juliet said they were what, 16? 17?

He lifted his gaze to where Horace, his hands spotted with red in places, was standing with his back to the scene, face white.

"Any idea who did it?"

"There's…. There's no cameras back here. I just—the last person we knew was back… never mind." His voice trailed off as he shakily put his hands back into his jumpsuit pockets.

"Chief." James caught his attention, anticipating an explanation. He was met with a long, shaky silence.

Finally, Horace sighed and hung his head, whispering a response so quietly James could barely hear. "The last person we know was back here was Roger, he had a shift to empty the trash cans back here, at the same time the kid disappeared."

Of course. Don't know what else I expected.

The Dharma mayor turned to face the blanket on the ground with a long, shuddering breath. Then, he looked at James.

"Listen, man, I don't—I don't do too well around blood, y'know." He continued to fidget nervously. "I—"

"Why are we out here, Horace?" James demanded gruffly, taking a step toward him. Horace held his gaze earnestly.

"Listen, Jim," the desperation was rising in his voice, "I—nobody's ever died here…"

"Really? I think what's under that blanket has somethin' to say about that."

"No, you don't understand… Nobody's ever died died here." Horace glanced around, as if to see if anyone was watching. "Nobody… We've had our accidents, y'know? But nobody knows that. Nobody can know. I just—I don't know what they'd do to me, to this place—"

James raised a brow incredulously. "You askin' us to help you cover up a murder, Chief?"

"Not so loud!" Horace continued, his tone pleading and pitiful. "Look man, I just—You're a Captain, you should know…. How it feels, man, to let everyone down. They all look up to you and just… You gotta decide where to draw the line. What they need to know and what won't hurt them if they don't." He implored.

James looked up at Miles, who had been staring blankly at the bloody sheet since they had entered the back alleyway. After a long, long moment, he let out a breath.

"Fine. We get this cleaned up, but, you gotta guarantee us a place here if we want it."

"Of course!" Horace assured him immediately. "Jim, you earned that the moment you talked to Richard. Any job, any money, you all can have it, it's yours—"

"I don't need jobs or money," James cut him off. "I just want my people to be safe. That's all."

"Gladly." Horace seemed relieved at his acceptance, "Heck, you're practically one of us already. We're all part of the same big family."

He looked over to Miles, who looked up.

"If LaFleur says it's a deal, it's a deal." He agreed, but the tension drawn in his voice made it clear he was desperate to get away from that body.

Horace sighed. "I… I knew I could trust you Jim. Your whole group just works so well together, I can see why you're the Captain for sure." His smile fades and his gaze drifts to the shadows.

"Y-Y'know, when we first started getting recruits on, we had a girl, Mary, about that kid's age… She was smart, loved being here." He smiled briefly, but it faded. "She uh… she went out into the jungle. Some of Richard's men were out there. Assaulted her and shot her execution style… Richard said he wasn't involved, I don't—I hope he wasn't, but… They buried her body. We told everyone she was just missing."

James dipped his head. "Sorry."

Horace nodded. "I just… It happens. You just gotta… Make the right call, I guess. It's hard, but… I'm the leader, I gotta decide."

James blinked at him, then nodded. Miles stepped forward

"Let's just get this over with so we can go back to bed and forget about it."

"Took the words right outta my mouth," Breathed James, glad this uncomfortable-as-heck situation was finally ending. All three of them turned back to the blood-stained sheet on the ground.

"Let's start cleaning up, I guess."

James hesitated, his hand on the doorknob, mind still reeling. He had just locked everyone into the Initiative, for better or for worse. Still, he was apprehensive about facing Juliet. There was a small sliver of hope that she would be asleep, or not realize what had taken place, or just simply wouldn't ask. She had sure as heck heard the phone ring, and those walls were so thin she must have heard at least a bit of the conversation. What exactly should he do? Go in and lie and hope for the best, or come out and say it?

Part of him bristled at the idea of sucking up to her like that, just giving over the information. A selfish part of him wanted to keep it, so finally get a leg up on Ms. Perfect, who seemed to outdo him in everything without trying. God knows what Others-mind-tricks she's learned, maybe that's exactly what she wants, maybe she wants him to lose it and make a fool of himself so she can be in contr—

"Are you gonna keep groping the doorknob or are we goin' inside?"

James rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you sure as heck are ancy to get in, eh? You're not the one who's gettin' chewed out."

"What, are you scared of her all of the sudden? All she did was send us to bed without dinner." Miles snickered as he moved past the taller man, opening the security door and then the actual door without a moment of hesitation.

The door swung open, and James held his breath. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he exhaled in relief; there was nobody inside. Just darkness, everything as it had been left.

Miles gave him a look. "Still scared? Want me to hold your hand?"

James shoved his way inside, sweeping a cursory glance around. It smelled like coffee, and he wasn't sure if it was the cup he had made earlier or another one, but otherwise everything seemed quiet. The light under Daniel's door was off and he couldn't hear any talking. For a moment, the only sounds were the quiet ticking of the grandfather clock and the crickets and night birds outside. That, and a subtle buzzing coming from the kitchen window that was most likely a fly. Miles blinked, then began down the hallway.

"I'm gonna take my place on the swing now, 'cause I don't want to be around when you get in trouble." He called over his shoulder, which James assumed was his way of saying 'goodnight.'

Deciding he was thirsty and getting a bit more irritated by the fly in the kitchen, James meandered onto the tile flooring. However, as soon as his boot hit the linoleum, the light turned on. James froze, then rose his hands slowly in surrender as he looked up to see Juliet sitting on the counter, one hand on the light switch.

"Alright, alright, I went out past my bedtime, go ahead and let me have it, Ma."

Juliet seemed to glare at him. "A dead teenager is not a joke, James. And don't try and tell me you weren't involved."

James felt ice-cold fear prickle up and down his spine. Shit. He looked up and met her eyes abruptly, feeling his irritation begin to bleed out.

"So, you think I killed him? Is that what this is leadin' up to?"

"No," Juliet began, sliding off the counter, "I know who killed him. But you left to help Horace cover up a body. When exactly were you going to tell me this?"

James' hackles rose and he took a step toward her, scowling. "If you had given me more than five dang seconds ta get into the house, maybe you would've found out."

She didn't seem to react at all to his display of intimidation. "Listen to me, James," her voice was low and icy. "I know this isn't a very good situation, I know we're under a lot of stress, and I know you think I'm suspicious." She took a step toward him until they were barely an inch apart.

"I'm not asking you to be my friend, James. I wouldn't blame you if you hated me. But right now, we're in the middle of something completely unknown, and our main concern is keeping ourselves together. We don't know anything about this place, these people… They'll see right through us if you keep acting like this. And I know you don't trust me, and you don't have to—but please, at least have faith in the group as a whole. We only have each other right now, and I know being in close quarters with an Other is the last thing you want, but nobody can change that now."

James' brow furrowed, but he felt his anger dissipating. It was stupid as heck to get angry at her anyways. Dang, she really does believe I hate her.

After a long time, he murmured a reply. "I don't hate you. Never did. Not even when you tazed me. And you don't have 'ta believe me, but I'm tellin' you: I only lost my shit 'cause I thought you were tryin' to outdo me, or somethin' stupid like that. Heck, you've read my file, you know I ain't the sharpest spear in the pile."

Juliet's lashes fluttered at him, and she looked up in earnest. She didn't seem like she expected to hear an apology—or rather, the closest thing James could muster to one.

"I know you were jus' tryin' to take care of everyone, Barbie. Heck, you practically secured our place here."

She swallowed hard. "You don't have to do that, James. I didn't expect an apology, I just wanted…"

"I ain't apologizin' 'cause I have to, it's 'cause I want to." He slowly raised a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, heart in his throat as he waited to see how she reacted.

Her gaze flickered down and to the side, blinking slowly. She let him do it. A sudden buzzing from the curtains broke them both out of the moment.

"Dang fly… Worst part about this rock is all the bugs."

Juliet reached behind her to the flyswatter sitting on the counter, holding it out to him. "Would you like to do the honors, Ship Captain?"

James couldn't help but grin, "Gladly, First Mate."

The smell of fresh-cut grass permeated the air as golden-orange evening light began to pour onto the quaint little neighborhood. James and Juliet led the way up the path, side by side. Juliet looked off of the sidewalk to one side, viewing a grassy quad containing a gazebo and a few benches. People sat on picnic blankets, sunbathing, in circles, or played catch around the grassy expanse. The air was full of noise typical of any suburban neighborhood—a lawnmower running in the distance, birds chirping, people talking and laughing, children playing somewhere out of sight. The only abnormal sounds were the occasional cry of a kookaburra or some other exotic bird, and a chorus of barking jackals or wild dogs far off in the distance.

"Hey, of all the places on this rock, this seems the coziest." James put his hands in his pockets, looking up at the sky, which was slowly turning more and more orange as evening approached. Sunset on the island was late as all heck, it was eight, but it looked more like four or five in the afternoon.

Juliet tipped her head and smiled in response. "The friendliest too, at least in the daytime." Her voice trailed off as she spotted someone familiar in the distance. She grabbed James' arm to catch his attention. He followed her gaze to where a janitor was picking up trash off the sidewalk.

"Jesus, what the heck is he still doing out here?" James frowned, watching Roger cautiously from afar.

"Did Horace say anything about what they were going to do?"

"Said he wasn't even gonna tell Dr. Chang this whole thing happened, I guess they can't 'cuff him or send him off island without suspicion." He looped his arm around hers and decided to turn on another path away from the janitor. As he took a turn toward the security station, something fuzzy darted out in front of him, nearly tripping him.

Juliet broke away from him to approach the offender, crouching to peer under the ferns beneath which it was currently sheltering.

"James, look." Her voice was quiet with awe as she looked at the creature.

Hoping he wasn't being goaded into looking at whatever the heck kind of ugly, dangerous jungle creatures also resided on the island, James stooped to have a look. His eyes caught white fur patched with black and orange. The small, wiry island resident turned its face toward them with a look of annoyance.

"Jesus, who the heck brought their cat here?!" Exclaimed Miles, having joined them in staring at the calico.

Juliet put her hand out and tried to beckon it. The cat twitched an ear at her, and cautiously ventured out from the ferns and into the warm evening sun to sniff her hand. As it came into the light, the group caught sight of some kind of weird spot on the inside of its ear. As the cat came up to amicably rub against her legs, hoping for food scraps, Juliet gingerly inspected its ear.

Tattooed on the skin of its ear was a tiny Dharma logo, bearing no particular station emblem, and a small string of numbers which was probably for identification.

"Escaped experiment?" Ventured Miles, as the cat began rolling around on the pavement, hamming it up for attention.

"I don't think they'd be that careless." Juliet thought, standing up. The calico, although friendly, seemed lean enough to be a stray of sorts. Maybe they were native or had been brought here by ships and were convenient for experiments.

"Never took you fer a cat person, Blondie."

Juliet shrugged lightly, watching as the cat caught sight of a picnic basket being opened, and sprinted into the grassy quad to investigate. "I'm not really an anything person."

"Really? You ain't ever had a pet before?"

"I used to have rats." She answered, watching James frown.

"Rats?"

"Come on, James, they're not that bad. They're very clean animals. Besides, they were the only ones I could really afford to have in an apartment." She glanced up as Horace approached, waving happily.

"Good to see you all out and about! How are we doin' today, team?"

"Just swell. Hope that ain't yer cat." James nodded to where the calico was darting across the grass and underneath the gazebo to escape a few rocks and cans being thrown at it to shoo it.

"Huh? Oh! No, no, that's not anybody's cat, no need to worry." He grinned. "She's just part of a batch we have running around inside the fence. They're all pretty nice, just to test some of the island's properties is all. Wouldn't recommend bringing one inside though, they're far from housebroken." He chuckled slightly, before looking between James and Juliet.

"I guess we're all collaborating on the next move?" He beckoned toward the security station, leading the others down the path toward it.

"Yes, as a team." Said Juliet.

"Good to hear! We at Dharma love team players. Not that there's anything wrong with going solo, but everything's better together, y'know?" He continued on rambling about Barracks life and spouting the benefits of teamwork as he let them into the station, nodding to the receptionist who sat filing her nails at the desk.

"Evening, Heather!" He greeted, beginning to open the iron doors leading downstairs. Juliet paused in the middle of the room, turning to look at the mirror on the wall above. That's the same place the window was on the inside of the office room. It must be a two-way mirror, then. She could hear typing and talking through the wall, wondering exactly who worked in there, as the security team had their headquarters in the single downstairs room.

She felt a cool blast of air as the iron doors swung open, giving a good view of the dimly lit stairwell. Juliet made her way carefully down the concrete steps, careful not to step on areas where it was cracked or missing chunks. As she ran her hand along the smooth concrete wall for any sign of a railing, she froze in her descent as her hand caught on deep gouges in the wall.

She glanced over, squinting in the darkness, and was barely able to make out three deep, parallel gouges in the wall, like something out of a cheesy horror move. Great. Just great. She commented internally.

James was surprised to see Jerry, actually coherent for the first time since they'd met, watching the monitors. He waved but didn't look over as the others entered. In the usually empty space was a white folding table, containing a large piece of paper. On closer inspection, it was a squeaky-clean map of the Barracks.

"Where'd you have this? Should start handing 'em out, it's easy as all heck to get lost here." He looked over his shoulder to there a door was open, leading into some kind of storage room and probably containing the weapons safe.

"Don't worry, you'll learn to get around. Coffee's in the spare room if you want to help yourselves." Horace replied cheerily, taking his own Dharma-printed Styrofoam cup and having a sip. As he put it down, James noticed it looked almost as white as milk. Jesus, sweet tooth much?

Miles, for one, curled his lip at the thought of another cup of that nasty-ass coffee, but he didn't feel up to doing anything without caffeine. That, and he was glad to get away from everyone else. At least Phil wasn't here. He ventured toward the spare room and peeked inside. The spare room was about the size of a walk-in closet, if not a little larger. Guns were stored in a tightly locked glass case embedded in the opposite wall. The walls on both the left and right were lined with filing cabinets and bookshelves, and the middle of the room contained a table, a few rickety chairs that looked like they had been rejected from a scrap yard, and a lone end table with the coffeemaker on it.

It smelled nice (compared to the rest of the basement anyways, which always smelled like gunpowder and mold,) and it was quiet, so Miles decided to stall in here as much as he could. I' hate people. He had managed to get little sleep and hadn't been able to get rid of his headache since he had seen the body the previous night.

Miles grabbed a cup and filled it, gulping it down before he could taste it, and slumped up against the wall. He had left the scene and the body had been buried, so why the heck was he still hearing? He didn't want to hear it, didn't want to feel it—but consciously trying to block it out did little to help. Miles stared into the murky black liquid in his cup, feeling like he'd never be able to get the dang thoughts out of his head. What has he supposed to do, talk to that kid? 'Sorry for burying you and covering up your murder'? And of course, this place had to be a deathtrap. He had had terrible visions before, ones where he could feel the pain so vividly, but never like that. Never enough to make him pass out. They'd give him a heck of a headache and make him a little spacey at most, but never that bad.

He was startled by Jin entering the room, moving to grab his own cup. He nodded to Miles.

"Are you ok?" He ventured. Miles studied him. He looked just as tired. It must be lonely, barely able to speak any English. And of all the decades, too.

"Mhm," Said Miles, his gaze drifting to the wedding ring on his finger. He had a wife, he remembered now. She got off the island.

Jin glanced out of the room, and then back to Miles. "Sawyer and Juliet." He stated simply.

"Yeah, I know." Miles sighed. "Kinda wish they'd just kiss or something already."

Jin shook his head. "No. Do you trust her?" He tried again, saying each word slowly, as if testing it out.

Miles' brow furrowed. He didn't expect such a direct question. "Who, Juliet?" He asked, not sure what kind of answer he'd give to that. With a shrug and a long moment of silence, he forced out as much of a response as he could gather. "I just… I dunno, it doesn't really matter. She's a nice person I guess."

"Other…" Jin reminded him. Miles studied his expression. He didn't seem to be suspicious of Juliet, just…. Unsure. Miles couldn't blame him. But what did he know about all this island-survivor drama? He was there to get Ben, she was one of Ben's people who hated his guts, and then they ended up stuck here together. Boom, nothing more nothing less.

"I mean, yeah. But I don't know, she's just okay to me. I'm lukewarm." The words started to feel less true as he said them. He felt a pull to some side away from lukewarm, but he wasn't exactly sure whether it was toward good or bad. She could be kinda creepy sometimes, but that was probably just spending three years with Ben. Miles couldn't spend half a minute with him for all the money in the world—well, for most of the money in the world. Other than that, she just didn't really give off any bad vibes.

He thought back to her caring for Dan. She didn't have to do that, heck, she didn't know anything about Daniel—or Miles, for that matter. She spent almost all of last night with him and tried to get Miles to go to bed. She'd wanted to give up a bed for him, too. He had to admit, taking care of Daniel put her in a pretty high-up place in his mind, but he wouldn't dare admit that to anyone else. She sure wasn't evil, but he definitely wasn't 'lukewarm' about her.

Heck, she even seemed to care about James. Miles sighed, feeling a little bad for even suspecting her of anything. But still, he had to be cautious of anyone. God knows what Others-mind-tricks Ben hammered into her, but she seemed to hate his guts, which was enough common ground for Miles. But all this business about Others, Survivors, Hostiles… he just honestly didn't give that much of a shit. Sure, if he'd crashed with the others, he'd probably be a bit touchier about letting Juliet on the team. But it just wasn't important to him, and he didn't see what James' problem with her could have been, other than James being James and getting mad over nothing.

Jin absentmindedly stirred his coffee. "She is nice… But her people took Claire. Ethan—Ethan said he was—one of us." He paused, peering out of the doorway to where the 'planning' was still taking place. "We thought Ethan was good too."

Miles hated to be dragged into this island drama, especially when he didn't know who the heck any of these people were. Ethan? Claire? Whatever. But he could see what Jin was saying. He had a wife—a lot more to protect than Miles.

"I dunno man, you know more about her than I do. She seems to be covering our asses, at least."

With that, he ventured out of the doorway, moving toward the map table.

"—And this house here, that's the one we had to build in a rainstorm. Boy, was that an adventure. And that house we built during the drought. The funny thing was—" Horace was talking as usual.

Miles stood beside Juliet and gave her a look, which she returned.

"How are you feeling?" She asked gently, giving him that glazed-over concerned look.

Miles felt a pang of guilt for having just talked about her in the other room, and something in her eyes tell him she knew. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Not fine and dandy, but I'll live." The words burned as they came out, and immediately afterwards he cursed himself for not saying 'I'm feeling fine.'

She nodded. "Maybe from lack of sleep?"

Miles rolled his eyes. "Easy Ma, I'll take a nap today or somethin', I'm fine." He went on sarcastically, looking up as Horace turned his attention back to the shipwreckers.

"Oh, Miles! Jin! Good to see you both." Said Horace, as if seeing them for the first time. He turned to James and Juliet. "Jim, Juliet, do you have everything you need?"

James shrugged, staring at the map. "Those kids are probably gonna come lookin' for their buddy tonight, and if that's the case we gotta get everything ready by midnight."

"I think we can do that." Horace said quickly. "I can get you anything you want."

"How many people do you think will be willing to help?" Juliet broke in, glancing nervously at the monitors. "We don't need a whole army's worth, but we need enough people who know at least vaguely what they're doing."

"No worries! We can go out and get a handful of men in no time, I'm sure they'd be happy to lend a hand. Anything to stop a window from being broken."

Miles raised an eyebrow. "Mind lettin' us in on the secret plan?"

"Oh!" Said Horace, as if suddenly remembering Miles and Jin existed. "Right—err, Jim, would you care to do the explaining?"

"Sure. We're gonna set up a decoy van in the first quad they'll run across, that looks like it's full 'a weaponry and other things. They'll head toward it and we'll shut off the lights as soon as they're in, and close in from the other side. If we catch one, it'd be enough. They're probably gonna split up and scram as soon as the darkness hits, so that's why we gotta have our volunteers."

"I can do the lights," suggested Horace. "I'll have to drive down the tunnels in a minute here to make it before midnight, but I'll have a walkie with me, and I'll be standing right at the master switch."

"Convenient. One heck of a Scooby Doo scheme, but it sounds like it'll work."

"They're kids, not criminal masterminds, Miles, I think we'll be fine."

Horace turned to face Juliet. "So, you gonna lead the charge?"

She blinked in surprise, then looked at James. "Only if he'll be leading it too."

James rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna be there for emotional support."

Horace beamed. "It's settled! I'll leave you both in charge and head down the tunnels now." He held up his walkie to signify he had it with him, then shoved it in his pocket and drew out his keys. "Have a good evening, ship-wreckers! Catch ya later tonight!" He called from up the stairs, sounding as chipper as if he were just doing an errand.

"So, do we start drafting people now or later?"

"Stop pokin' my dang arm."

"I'm not poking your arm, James, you're sitting on a bush."

"I'm not sittin' on a bush!"

James shifted uncomfortably next to Juliet, grumbling under his breath. Even after spending what felt like half his life on this rock, sweating his ass off in the vines and ferns and sand, he could still never get used to sitting in the underbrush. Miss Others 2004, on the other hand, sat quiet as a cat in a yarn basket.

Juliet blinked, staring out at the sidewalk. Just a few yards away sat the decoy van. She could vaguely see Phil sitting in the brush on the opposite side, scratching himself every now and then, mumbling about having to sit in the bushes.

She looked over to James for reassurance, raising an eyebrow. "This your idea of fun?"

"Not as fun as runnin' down a boar."

She smiled in response. "Let's hope we don't have to hunt anything tonight," Her smile faded slightly. She let the silence consume her for a brief moment, then turned back to him.

"Where did you bury him?" She asked gently.

James sighed. "Out behind one of the houses, near where we found 'em." Their eyes met for the longest time, before Juliet nodded.

"I'll take you out there tomorrow night, if ya want." He continued somberly.

"Thank you, James."

The sounds of crickets and night birds enveloped them, the heat stifling and the night dark and eerie. Juliet blinked, wondering if this plan would work. Would they even come back tonight? Would they bring reinforcements? Would they ask where their other member was?... Her heart felt heavy. Sure, they had broken a few windows. They were kids—and that was really the only thing that mattered to her. She could never hate a child.

'Children can be cruel, you know. Don't make a statement you might regret later.'

Leave me alone, Ben. She hoped James couldn't feel her tensing.

'Don't grieve yourself for some casualty of natural selection, perhaps he was just too weak to defend himself.' Jesus, just when she thought he couldn't get any worse.

Go to hell.

"You ok there Blondie? Too much excitement for one night?"

She sighed, letting as much of the tension out of her shoulders as she could. "Just… thinking." It always made her uncomfortable to be asked how she was doing. She couldn't help but perceive it as a kind of attack.

"Maybe you should stop doin' that."

"I wish I could."

They mutually turned back to the sidewalk, still waiting for something to happen. Suddenly, a blast of static startled Juliet.

"Shit," James grabbed frantically for his walkie, flipping it on. "Anythin?'"

"You might want to get ready for a fight. They're coming in hot and they've got what looks like firecrackers." The transmission dissolved into static and James flipped it off.

"Firecrackers?" Juliet echoed, shooting James a concerned glance.

He shrugged. "Steppin' up their game, I guess." He kept a hand on his walkie, awaiting anything suspicious. Juliet was the first one to hear something,

"Footsteps," she breathed, "Get ready."

James blinked. He didn't hear anything. Don't tell me the Others got super-hearing too. Suddenly, a crunch in the grass and a loud pop that sounded like gunfire rang in the air. His heart caught in his chest briefly, before he whipped out the walkie. As soon as they came into sight, it was clear they were heading for the van. However, as soon as they hit a break in the path they began to split up. James signaled for everyone to focus; the girl at the head was the one heading for the van. She would be their target.

James had barely radioed to Horace and brought the speaker to his lips before the lights flickered once, twice—and finally switched off. Juliet's eyes were the first to adjust, and she leapt out of the bushes.

The girl skidded to a halt, looking around as more firecrackers went up from other places, followed by loud shouts and the sound of grass breaking a block or so away. She looked around and quickly realized what was happening. She moved to the van, Juliet on her heels, and James after her. The girl hoisted herself onto the roof of the van, spinning around with a lit firecracker in hand. Juliet skidded to a halt and dove to one side as the firework launched itself, bouncing up off the pavement and landing in the bushes.

Not letting herself be distracted, Juliet drew the rifle she had been given, signaling to James to get behind the van.

"Get down. We have you surrounded; we don't want to hurt you." Juliet demanded calmly, returning the girl's glare with a cold stare.

"Where is Ryan?!" She hissed coldly, and Juliet felt her heart skip a beat.

"Come down. Please." Juliet continued taking steps forward, eyes on the girl.

She kept stepping back, back, but Juliet knew she was going to fake a dive off the back and then divert to the side; the way her body was twisted to one side made it plain. Her feet hit the back edge of the van and she hesitates, eyes on Juliet, before moving suddenly to one side, and then diving off the other, hitting the ground.

Before Juliet could even round the van, the lights flickered back on, and James rounded back on the other side, trying to grab the girl. She twisted his arm around and elbowed him in the face, turning to dart and running straight into Phil. Juliet closed in on the other side, pulling James up gingerly by one arm.

The girl spun around, realizing she was boxed in, and begrudgingly held up her hands. "I just want to know where Ryan is."

Juliet felt a twinge of pity, lowering her rifle.

Phil gave the girl a shove. "You're in big trouble." He snapped. James glared at him.

"Let us do the talkin' Barney Fife, just hold 'yer gun."

Juliet blinked, trying to decide whether or not being sympathetic would hurt more than it would help. "All we want is you telling us what you're doing here, and your word you won't do it again, or there will be further repercussions."

The girl slumped a little, groaning. "Look, we just wanted to mess with the Americans. We thought it would be funny."

Juliet gave her a stern look, to which she shrugged sheepishly. "We aren't gonna do it again—but we need to know where Ryan is. He didn't come back with us." She stood up straighter, taking a step toward Juliet. "Give us our friend back and we'll leave you alone."

Before Juliet had a chance to think, James answered for her.

"Listen Jungle Queen, we don't know where 'yer friend is. We forgot to handcuff him, and he ran off and got outside the fence, he's in 'yer territory."

She scowled back at him, trying to decide whether or not to believe him, before sighing.

"Fine, Jesus. We'll leave. Handcuff me or whatever you want, just let us go."

James looked to Juliet to make the final call.

Juliet hesitated, and then took a step back to let the girl out. "Go, take the rest of your friends and don't come back."

The girl skulked past them, picking up the last remaining firecracker and starting off. "I'm just taking this one with me so I can signal the others." She growled, which apparently was her way of saying goodbye.

Phil took a sudden step toward Juliet, face red with anger. "Why the heck did you let her go! She's gonna take that cracker and break something with it!" He snarled, looming over her in his best attempt to be intimidating. Juliet was not in the least intimidated, and simply gave him a cool stare.

James shoved Phil back, stepping in front of Juliet. "Back off, 'yer gettin' on my dang nerves."

"Don't act all high and mighty, you just got here!" Phil waved his gun about haphazardly, and Juliet suddenly tugged James back.

"Stop, Jesus, we don't have to fight. Let's get back to Horace." She glanced from Phil to James and back to Phil again, feeling the tension between them. She gave James' arm another tug, and he finally turned away from Phil, whipping out his walkie.

Juliet turned as a firework went off behind her, spinning to see the red light flash briefly in the sky, coming from the jungle across the outlands. She was glad they had gotten this over with without a ton of bloodshed. That was the last thing she wanted.

The sunrise was once again turning the pitch-black sky into a dim indigo, chasing away the brightest of stars. On the edge of the Barracks, where there were no houses to act as a wall against the sweeping Outlands, there was far more of a morning breeze. It wasn't cool, more lukewarm, but it carried the fresh scents of dewdrops and grass. Juliet carefully made her way down from the outermost sidewalk on the edge of the Barracks, where she was given a clear view of the meadow, and the tall grass undulating back and forth in the wind, the sparkling dew making it look like a sea of stars.

Juliet was careful not to slip on the dew-slick grass as she hit a soft valley just where the short and manicured lawn grass blended with the tall, thick wild grass bleeding in from the Outlands, just barely reaching knee-height. Even in the thick tangle of grass blades, she could see where the earth had been disturbed, and after glancing around to make sure she wasn't being watched, she knelt in the grass, placing a hand on the earth.

She was no stranger to death. It practically happened every day in the Others' camp. Living in, or near, the jungle had a fair share of dangers. But no matter how each death happened, she couldn't help but feel responsible more and more for each one. It felt like everything she touched died. Every single woman who came to her without fail would bleed to death on her table, and she'd be the one responsible.

'Don't hold yourself responsible for this. He was simply a casualty.'

He was a kid. Even if death happens often, that doesn't mean each one shouldn't be taken as seriously as if not.

'Worry, worry—we'll see how long you can last, extending yourself out to everyone that catches your eye. I've always wanted the best for you. I thought you were smart.'

Juliet grounded herself by taking a lily she had picked from the curated patches of greenery and placing it on the soft, damp earth.

I don't care what you think.

"Juliet." The voice startled her, and for a moment she thought she had been caught. However, she stood with a sigh of relief to see James, Miles and Jin standing there, nodding toward the inside of the Barracks. "Horace wants to see us in the security office. "

She blinked, and then gently made her way back onto the path. "What for?"

Miles shrugged and took a bite out of the apple he was holding.

Quietly, they made their way through the barracks.

As the sky began to lighten, and the color returned to the surrounding land, the sleepy Barracks residents began to rouse. Lights flickered on in the windows, one by one, as the streetlamps turned off. Windows opened; doors opened. The sound of water running, dishes clinking, people talking, and coffee being poured drifted from them. People began to appear on the paths around them, smiling and nodding hecko as they headed to work. Juliet glanced up at the sky, which was beginning to turn a pastel pink, tinged with sherbet orange at the horizons. Hornbills and canaries perched on the eaves of the houses, chattering and chirping. A few of them flew by overhead, on their own missions. A few more cats made themselves apparent, sunning themselves on porches or striding casually on their own way through the neighborhood. Life went on.

They reached the security station as the pink and orange began to swirl together in the sky. The shadows turning from a pale grey to a cool blue and starting to stretch out toward the west. The quaint little security building seemed even more yellow in the light of the sunrise, mixing with the vivid tropical greenery around it. Jin held the door open for them, leading the way into the reception room. The lights were not on, but the golden sunlight poured in through the windows and stretched in blocks across the room. The sounds of a busy office came from the room over.

The receptionist, Heather, stood up to greet them with a smile. "Morning!" She chirped, "You can go ahead and head downstairs, it's not locked or anything."

Juliet returned her smile as she headed into the cool stairwell, taking in the now familiar moldy scent of the security office, picking up the smell of coffee permeating the air from the monitor room. She opened the door, and blinked, seeing Horace standing on the other side of the white folding table.

"Good morning!" He beamed, motioning to jumpsuits set out on the table. "I have a surprise for you!"

James was the first to inspect the jumpsuits bearing the security emblem, his eyebrows arching as he reached forward to grab one. 'Lafleur' was plainly embroidered on it. Laid out next to that one were others, bearing the names 'Miles', 'Jin', and…

Juliet. She could hardly believe the sight of her name on the security jumpsuit, and she reached to gently run her hands over the embroidered name. She looked up at Horace, incredulous.

He rocked back sheepishly on his heels. "We, uh—we don't typically offer these positions to women… But Juliet, you'd make a really good member of the team, we'd be glad to have you." He grinned at her expectantly.

Juliet blinked, realizing everyone was looking at her. She looked down at the jumpsuit, running her fingers over the khaki fabric. She didn't know what to say or think. 'You wanted to save and take care of everyone, what a better way to stress yourself out even more. Go ahead and take it, see how much of the world you can save today.'

It wasn't that, though. She looked slowly back up at Horace.

"With all due respect, Horace," she started calmly, "I don't know if I could handle the position. I would be glad to help out… But in another way, perhaps?"

Horace blinked, then nodded. "Of course, I understand! You can have whatever role you desire! We always have positions open; we'd appreciate you doing anything to help out."

She returned his smile this time, nodding her thanks. At the very least, she felt a small weight lift from her chest.

By the time they had gotten back to the house, Daniel was sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. Juliet moved to him as he offered a feeble smile and wave, feeling his forehead. The fever had broken the night the phone rang, and thankfully he looked good.

"Dan, you're up!" Miles greeted him, pausing suddenly as he saw the flyer on the coffee table.

"They… They stuck it in the door this morning. After you left…" He explained, as Miles picked up the paper flyer, turning it over to read it.

"DON'T FORGET! THE SUB LEAVES IN TWO DAYS

Make your reservation twenty-four hours ahead and be sure to be at the dock three hours before scheduled departure.

Namaste,

Dr. Chang. "

Daniel met his gaze. "Miles… The sub goes to the headquarters. At Anne Arbor…"

Miles frowned, then spun to face Juliet. "Take one look at Dan and tell me he looks good enough to go on a sub in two days." He said sharply, gesturing to the blanket-swaddled Daniel, who glanced at her pleadingly.

She hadn't expected to run into another problem so soon. She took a breath and surveyed the two of them, before letting it out again. "Let's deal with this after breakfast. Please?"

Thankfully, they seemed to agree. The walk to the cafeteria, with Daniel in tow (and Miles watching his every move), was warm and sunny. People waved and smiled and said hi, someone invited them to a party, a cat sprinted out of the bushes meowing happily in greeting, rubbing all over Daniel's legs and almost tripping him. Even Miles didn't seem as irritated by the constant conversation and friendliness this morning, it was as if everything finally felt… okay, for once.

But Juliet knew it wouldn't last, she knew something was wrong the second Jin caught her eye across the table. She looked toward the window. "I think I see Amy outside; I'm going to talk to her." She said, exchanging a glance with Jin, who began to get up as well.

She managed to get them separated from the crowd of people, standing underneath the shady porch of the Cafeteria. She blinked earnestly at Jin.

"Jin, something's wrong. What is it?"

He hesitated before answering, for a moment Juliet couldn't help but think he was trying to decide whether or not to trust her.

"I saw her."

Ice cold dread poured down Juliet's back. She could barely even speak; she already knew the answer to the question before she asked it.

"Who?"

Jin met her eyes, his own full of a kind of concern and fear and apprehension she caught immediately.

"Sun."