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

4. Chapter 4

Icy pink and sherbet orange light caught in the beads of dew clinging to the long grass. The Outlands stretched toward the horizon, the grass undulating and waving in the soft breeze. Hot, thick humidity pervaded the air, and a soft blanket of fog flowed through the valleys and crept up from the ground in wispy tendrils.

Miles squinted in the bright rays of sunlight pouring from the rising sun, which began to peek up over the horizon. He could see a dark, smudged line where the land met the sky, and knew it was the treeline on the far side of the Barracks. Wiping sweat from his brow, he began making his way through the grass, feeling drops of dew soaking into the pants of his khaki jumpsuit. Why the Dharma folk had chosen for their people to wear thick, long-sleeved jumpsuits in the middle of a tropical island was beyond him.

An 'I'iwi bird chirped from somewhere behind him, no doubt scanning the sidewalks for any food scraps. He'd made his way across the first rolling hill of the Outlands before he heard quiet footsteps behind him; the rest of his friends, he knew. Except for Juliet, she always walked silently.

Glad to finally get away from the singsong, cheesy suburban atmosphere of the Barracks, he began hiking up the other end of the hill. Miles would rather not be here at all, if he had the choice, but it was hard choosing between Horace and his posse and sleeping on the jungle floor using a rock as a pillow. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, he sniffed.

Glancing up at the cloudless sky, he wondered idly how long it would take before his desire to find air conditioning would trump his distaste for the residents of the Barracks. At the very least, they'd be under the jungle canopy for most of the—

"Miles, stop!" He didn't know why he obeyed, but he did. One foot frozen in the air, he felt Juliet coming up behind him in that silent, clean way of hers, easily cutting through the long grass with purposeful strides.

In a second, she was behind him, gently pulling him back by the arm. "Don't step any further." Bewildered, Miles searched the ground below him for whatever snake or hole Juliet had not wanted him stepping on. For a moment, though, he couldn't see anything, just the glittering shine of the dew.

"What—"

"Move back," she ordered calmly. He did as she said, watching as she took his place and dropped into a crouch. Brushing aside some blades of grass, she motioned to something laying hidden in their midst.

He could hear James' heavy footsteps coming up from behind them, loud and sloppy compared to Juliet's. Jin followed, a little more cautiously.

"Snake?" He motioned to where Juliet was crouched next to Miles, slowing as he scanned the group concernedly. James had shoved his hands in his pockets and ambled up to investigate.

"Look, there," Miles frowned and craned his neck to see what she was pointing at. Just glittering dewdrops picking up the sunlight, until he looked closer. The reflected sunlight took the form of a circle, laying in the grass. Miles sat down on his haunches to inspect it.

"It's… a circle of wire." He observed, wondering how Juliet had seen it from so far away. She reached behind her and began combing through the grass as if looking for something. Jin, upon seeing her, picked up a stick from the ground and handed it to her.

"You sure poking things on the jungle floor is a good idea, Wonder Woman?" James remarked, though he seemed as confused as Miles.

Gently, Juliet poked one half of the stick in the middle of the wire circle. Snap! Miles jumped back, startled, as the wire suddenly drew up and around the stick, cutting it cleanly in half with a resounding crack. The cut half of the stick dropped onto the ground, and the wire had curled up on itself into a knot.

"It's a snare," she observed, reaching down to follow the wire with her hands until she struck something in the grass. She pulled the mystery object from the ground and held it to where the rest of the group could see. It was a big nail, Miles observed, bigger than her hand.

"A railroad spike?" James observed, holding out his hand. Juliet passed it to him. Sure enough, the other end of the wire was pulled tightly around the large, metal shank. "Left over from the Dharma Mountain Railroad, I'm assumin'."

"Snare. For rabbits?" James passed the spike to Jin, who turned it over in his hands before holding it up to the sunlight.

"I suppose so, there are rabbits here," Juliet agreed, standing up and wiping dewdrops off her hands on her jeans.

"Who the hell is catching rabbits?" Miles asked, standing up as well. They had Dharma-brand mac and cheese, who the hell needed to hunt for rabbits.

Another set of footsteps came from behind them, followed by the sounds of someone tripping and falling into the grass.

"You're not supposed to go that far without me!" Phil's shrill voice broke through the hot air, scaring away several nearby birds.

"Good morning, Phil." Juliet blinked at him. He blinked back at her, then turned his attention to James.

"I thought I told you to wait for me!" The lanky security officer had to crane his neck to look up at James. Miles resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Juliet moved to stand beside James. "If we wanted to leave without you, we would be long gone by now." She stated in that cool, calm way of hers. Phil bristled, but said nothing, instead shrinking away from Juliet.

"Let's go, then," he sniffed, quickly brushing past her and stomping toward the treeline.

"In case you forgot, we're looking for our team, so we're leading the way." Miles called after him. He didn't even notice he'd said 'our' team without even thinking about it.

"I know this jungle better than any of you do!" Phil puffed out his chest proudly. Juliet fell into step beside James.

"That's a good point," she said quietly, trying to catch his eye. They shared a glance for a moment. It kind of was a good point, Miles admitted begrudgingly; they couldn't let it be known that they've been here before. Leave it to James and Juliet, he supposed. They were the two professional liars out of their group.

James picked up his speed to fall in behind Phil. "If you know where we're goin' so well, why don't you just take us back to where we wrecked?" Juliet seemed thankful for his quick cover.

If Miles was sure of anything, he knew it was going to be a long day.

"We need to get to higher ground in order to see where we are in relation to the shoreline. Phil, do you have a compass with you?" Juliet craned her neck and squinted against the beams of sunlight breaking through the jungle canopy.

"Hah! Do you know how far inland we are? You couldn't see the shoreline even if you climbed the tallest tree here!" Phil puffed out his chest.

Miles sniffed, continuing to linger in the shadows a ways away from the group. He was, for once, glad he wasn't in charge; he would have kicked Phil to the curb by now. He couldn't stand the guy, strutting around like he had explored the island from top-to-bottom.

James moved in a little closer to Juliet, keeping a concerned eye on Phil. "We can't act too stupid," he murmured.

Juliet nodded in agreement. "We should know enough to prove we trekked from the crash site, but not any more than that." Crafting a lie seemed to come easy to her. They continued talking with their heads close together. A strange couple, they were.

Jin stood close to them as well, as bemused by Phil as they were. He continued shifting impatiently on his feet, waiting for them to get a move on. Miles wondered, for a moment, what it would feel like to have someone waiting for him on the other side.

As best Miles could assume, they were deep in the lush valley that nestled between the Island's two mountains. It was much hillier than near the beach. As they spoke, they stood at the base of a steep hill. The dirt slope was broken by roots weaving in and out of the ground, providing trips and footholds, and rocks jutting out where the slope was steep enough to form small rock faces. They weren't fully in the dark wilds of the jungle yet; the area where the Barracks was situated held a small area of tame, temperate forest before transitioning to more exotic flora.

Though the canopy overhead provided shade, heat seemed to seep up from the loamy soil on the forest floor. Shifting uncomfortably, Miles amused himself by watching Phil try (and fail) to climb the nearest rock face. He didn't really fancy spending a whole day out here, tromping around in the jungle, looking for people he didn't really care about. Dan was at the dock, Charlotte was gone, and—

His eyes settled on Juliet, still in close conversation with James. He couldn't hear what she was saying, but she was gesturing toward the canopy. Strange couple, they were. Last Miles heard, he shipped her off to help some pregnant woman at the fence and then they had a fight about it. Or at least, that's what he thought happened. Didn't really matter now, though. They seemed like they were getting along just fine.

Juliet nodded as she talked, blinking in that slow, calm way of hers. Miles heaved a sigh, shoving his hands in his pockets. He had to admit, he would feel better with her around, whether they were in that stupid house or not. And sure, he should probably be out here to make sure Ford didn't do anything stupid. And to make sure Phil didn't get at Jin or something. Yeah, actually, maybe he did have a reason to be out here after all.

"Miles, what do you think?" Her question caught him off guard. He turned to find their group's leading power couple staring at him expectantly.

"Are you two done flirting?" He threw a glance over at Phil, occupying himself with something a few feet away, then lowered his voice. "I don't know anything about this place, I'm the last person you want—"

"That's why we're askin' you." James drawled, digging the toe of his boot into the dirt. Miles tried to see whether or not he was flushing at the flirting comment.

Juliet nodded. "You've been here less time than either of us, it wouldn't make sense for us to know as much as we do about the island since we just crashed here." Ah, right, the rules of the great con. He didn't care so much about the morality of lying to a bunch of hippies, just as long as he didn't have to put in the work. Just going along with what everyone else said was good enough for him.

Miles sniffed, irritated. "I don't even know where the location of our boat is supposed to be, that's your job to keep track of."

"And suppose 'yer cornered and have to keep the story goin' by yourself?" For a brief moment everyone was quiet, and Miles was given the choice whether or not to push the issue. Ford was obviously not enjoying being around first-time liars, he could see. And Miles was in a bad mood.

You know what? He should push the issue actually.

"That's not my problem," for a heartbeat he had another silence, a choice whether to end it there or keep going, but he couldn't really stop himself once he started, "And you know what, we really didn't have to do any of this. You're pushing the responsibility of keeping all of you safe on me, I didn't ask for that,"

"Miles—" Juliet attempted to cut in, but James stepped between them.

"Well, I'm sorry that keepin' us all alive is such a burden, I should'a asked 'yer permission first,"

"Yeah, you should have said something before lumping me and Dan with all of you, don't push this on me like I agreed to it," Miles realized he may have raised his voice a bit too much; he saw that Phil had turned around to gawk at them.

"What? Something you wanna say?" Phil glared at him and straightened up, his too-large jumpsuit and all the bells and whistles attached clattered as he adjusted himself.

"Uh, yeah, if you're gonna argue maybe I should take the lead." For a guy of his build he seemed to have no problem puffing up in front of LaFleur, but when Juliet turned her eyes on him, he couldn't help but shrink back.

"Oh, the great and powerful Phil will take us back to our boat with his jungle prowess. While we're at it, why don't you just find a way to get back to the mainland?" James towered over him, as much in the mood as Miles was to deal with this.

Miles resisted the urge to shove him. "Well, if you know so much, be our guest. We don't usually ask each other before we make decisions anyways."

"LaFleur's the boat captain, right? He'll tell us what to do." He deflected, shifting uncomfortably under Juliet's eyes.

Finally, Juliet cut between Phil and Miles, lowering her voice so only the latter could hear. "Miles," she ordered, her voice now far more serious, threatening to break her usual calm demeanor, "If you want to go back you can. This is about keeping us all safe."

He bristled, "Right, of course, keeping us all safe," he could feel his anger dying down now, the flame snuffed into embers as he realized everyone was looking at him. James was staring a hole through the back of his head, he could feel, and he decided it best to shrink back.

Juliet frowned, moving up a hand to rest it wearily on her forehead. James moved to place a hand on her shoulder. She tensed immediately but didn't remove it.

"'Aight, we can head southeast of here. We'll head for the mountains until we hit the Truce border, then take a break and reroute." Miles could tell he was trying to inch closer to the Orchid, one of the few plans he had. He stifled the urge to roll his eyes.

Juliet smiled gently and nodded, "Yes, I think that would be good." She blinked a silent thank you to James. With that, she trailed after him as he started hiking up the nearby slope, using rocks and roots as footholds. Despite his confidence, he slipped and scuffed himself several times, while Juliet was able to quickly pass him and swiftly scale it, helping him up from the top. Jin had followed wordlessly, but Miles felt him throw a glance his way.

That left him and Phil to bring up the caboose. Nobody had to tell Miles twice to start moving, instantly shouldering past the lanky Phil and heading for the roots. He suppressed a groan, hearing the great and powerful security officer behind him struggling uselessly to hike up after him. Miles clawed his way up and moved to stand behind Juliet, silently hoping they wouldn't notice Phil was having trouble and would leave him. Juliet, however, moved to offer her hand to the struggling Phil. He looked at it suspiciously, then ignored it and opted to claw his way clumsily up to join the group.

And southeast they went, just as the Boat Captain had said. Juliet and James lead the way, side-by-side. Miles sniffed, finding it how strange they were getting along. Juliet, obviously the more adept one at moving in the jungle, would strike out a few steps ahead in trickier areas, her prowess easy to see. James fumbled along behind her, looking clumsy in comparison. After them Jin trailed quietly, lost in thought as he usually was. Miles would have felt bad for him if he hadn't been mourning his pride. And of course, Phil trailed behind him, dutifully looking over the group. His eyes were on Juliet more often than not, no doubt picking up on how easily she moved through the wilds.

After scaling a few more hills with the help of rocks and roots as footholds, they hiked through an almost temperate-looking area, apart from the banyans and hanging moss it didn't look as tropical as the rest of the woods. Juliet had instantly picked up on a deer trail as they hit a plateau and wasted no time guiding everyone through. She looked as happy as Miles was to be out of that cramped, cheesy neighborhood.

They walked for a while in blessed silence, but the whole time Miles still felt himself steaming, and not just from the heat. Juliet was great, sure, but she and James had this whole leader thing going on that rubbed him the wrong way. As if they weren't just at each other's throats a few weeks ago. And if there was one thing Miles hated, it was being bossed around. James was just bossy, but Juliet, on the other hand, had this condescending way to her, as if trying to care for him. Maybe she was feigning it to gain his trust, maybe she wasn't, but Miles didn't like it either way. He could take care of himself, and he could take care of Dan just fine on his own.

Yeah, he especially didn't like Juliet going so quickly to baby Dan. It wasn't so much that he didn't trust her, but that she took the role so quickly. He could have taken care of himself, and Juliet inserting herself into things was probably what convinced him to leave on the sub. If something happens to him out there on the mainland–

Miles was lucky to catch himself just a few inches from the ground, stumbling after his foot caught on something that felt suspiciously like Phil's boot. The security officer wound around him without so much as looking at him, chin up in that prissy, self-important way of his. Miles stood and dusted himself off; the last thing he needed was Juliet to come back there and see if he was okay or something.

And of course, he couldn't forget the colorful cast of Dharma residents. Even if he did get the pass to go back to his nice, air-conditioned kitchen full of mac and cheese, he'd have to pass through the welcome wagon to get there. There were Horace and Amy, a regular Adam and Barbara Maitland who were about as dimensional as a piece of paper. And that guy Lyle, who was too friendly for his own good. Jerry was fine, if not lazy, but he hung around with Phil and Horace all the time. Then there was Roger, a real winner who was always looking for some reason to hurt someone. And, of course, Miles' own damn parents—how could he forget them?

The sweltering head did his mood no good, and before he knew it Miles was trailing as far behind the group as he could, just barely close enough to keep sight of them to keep from getting lost. And what would they care if he got lost? The thought of Juliet bustling around trying to find him and acting all concerned was enough to make him want to throw up. He didn't need pity, he wanted to go home. Well, more accurately he wanted Dan to be there. And Charlotte. And Naomi.

The group continued on in no hurry whatsoever; it was obvious Juliet was slowing to allow Phil to keep up. They had followed the aforementioned deer trail around the edges of some slopes, where instead of a slant downward there were mildly steep drops down to the leaf litter below, around 5 or 6 feet. Juliet reached some kind of fork in the path and moved to talk to James. After a very obviously titillating conversation, James rubbed the back of his neck and moved forward to test a risky-looking path right along the edge of a rock wall.

The path itself was made of packed dirt with only a few potential trips here and there, but on the right side there was a lining of scrubby wild grass, which spilled out over a rock face that led quite a ways downward into a kudzu-swathed hollow. The other side of the path nestled up against another rock wall, moist with condensation and crisscrossed with vines and moss. The path itself was narrow, but enough to walk single file through.

"Someone want to tell me why we're doing a tightrope walk instead of walking on the roadside like normal people?" Miles called up to the front of the group, now catching up to where Jin was cautiously watching James and Juliet start out onto the path.

"None of the roads lead directly southeast," Juliet explained, before suddenly catching herself. "At least, I assume so." Phil narrowed his eyes suspiciously but said nothing.

Jin had stepped onto the path, obviously content to follow James and Juliet. Miles paused at the edge of the path.

"You first," he motioned to Mr. Know-it-all, who hovered cautiously behind him.

"Nuh-uh! I'm not gonna fall into a trap that easy." Phil adjusted his jumpsuit nervously.

"Scared to walk on a little jungle trail?" Miles let his taunt sink in for a moment, before shrugging nonchalantly and following Jin. He sped up in order to keep a good distance from Phil. He himself wasn't afraid of the mild drop, but he'd rather not be tripped and made to look like an idiot. The path curved around the rock wall and out of sight, the turn catching Miles off-guard. He uneasily followed it around, relieved to see solid ground just a few feet away.

Suddenly, a bony palm slammed into the small of his back, knocking him almost all the way off the path. For a heartbeat his legs dangled over empty air, but he was lucky enough to grab an exposed root on the way down, digging the toes of his boots into cracks in the rock face along the drop. As expected, Juliet started and turned to help him up, but Jin reached for him before she could. Miles gladly accepted his hand, turning to give the innocent-looking Phil the best glare he could muster.

"What are you, 12? What's your problem?"

"What, me? I didn't do anything! Why are you yelling at me?" Phil snapped defensively.

"Can we have this argument somewhere safer?" Juliet raised her voice over the two of them as Jin started nudging Miles to the other side of the path. Phil stalked a few steps after him.

"You people sure are hostile toward me for no damn reason, I'm just out here trying to keep you guys safe!"

Jin suddenly grabbed Phil by the arm, hauling both men onto solid ground and away from the looming drop. Miles could almost feel Juliet's relief. It pissed him off, whether or not her care was genuine he didn't need it. Finally away from the precipice, Miles wasted no time in backing up from everyone.

"Oh, real subtle. If you think we're Hostiles it would be kinda stupid to come out here all alone with us, right?" He spun on his feet, going from facing the group to stalking away from them and talking over his shoulder.

"Horace might trust you, but I don't. You're gonna need to prove you can be trusted." His shrill voice was nails on a chalkboard to Miles. He opened his mouth to snap back as he continued heading away.

"Miles, watch where you're walking," Oh yeah, he really needed to be condescended, that's exactly what he needed.

"For that matter I think it's stupid for any of us to be out here at all," he called over his shoulder, "I'm going back, and none of you are going to stop me. In fact, I think—"

Suddenly, he was suspended in dead air, it took a heartbeat for him to even realize he was falling as he felt the jolt in his stomach, like going down a hill on a rollercoaster. It was so sudden he couldn't even shout, one moment he was walking on solid ground and the next he was dropping past the jungle floor. The last thing he was able to glimpse was the group's horrified faces as he soared downward into empty air.

"H-Hey, did anyone else just see that? Did—" James thundered past Phil toward wherever Miles had plummeted. He expected to see some sort of steep drop as he approached, but he couldn't see anything except for flat ground.

A cold hand firmly grasped the arm of his jumpsuit, tugging him back. James was about ready to round on Phil for grabbing at him, but he felt soft blonde hair tickle his arm as Juliet wove past him, standing and staring at the ground.

"Don't go any further," She warned, eyes fixated on the patch of earth that Miles had once stood.

James froze, watching her as if she were some kind of specter. Maybe a few days ago, he would have resented the feeling of being pushed back, giving up leadership of the situation to Juliet; but he instead found himself reaching up to gingerly touch the area where her hand once lay, marveling for a brief second at the feeling.

Juliet was far from being a touchy person; if anything, she seemed averse to it. Daniel, of course, was a special case–Dr. Wizard seemed to bring out the mama instinct in her. For some reason, the moment stuck out to him. He watched her scan the ground, eyes clouded in silent thought. Phil, far from a silent thinker, came pounding up the slope after her.

Juliet put an arm out to block him. "Don't–We don't know what just happened,"

"He–There's nothing there, he–" Phil's eyes were as big as saucers, flickering from Juliet to the ground and back. "What, is it quicksand? He couldn't have just disappeared–"

"Easy there, Barney," James strode up just behind Juliet, trying to read her expression. Unreadable as always, though. His attention turned back to Miles, or lack thereof.

"Yes, he could have just disappeared," Juliet finally answered, never looking up. She dropped onto her haunches and began looking around the jungle floor for something. After a moment of searching, her slim fingers curled around a rock, which she then tossed in the general direction of the patch of ground.

Sure enough, the rock bounced off solid ground for a few paces, before suddenly dropping out of sight. It was so quick James could barely see what had happened, but for a heartbeat he could see the rock suddenly falling, as if there was no ground there at all. His eyes widened.

"Alright, so there's a magic hole in the ground. We goin' in or what?" He wished he could be as cool as Juliet was about this situation. Jin's shadow fell on the ground next to him.

"Miles?" He pointed toward the ground. Phil cowered a few paces behind Juliet, looking as if he's just seen a ghost.

"A-Are you three not shocked at all? He just–he just fell!"

Despite not shaking in his boots like Phil, James had to admit he was… concerned. That was the feeling. He sure as hell didn't like being a follower, but he didn't peg himself as a leader either. Still, even though Miles was an ass, he was part of their pack. And what were they out here to do if not regain lost members?

He turned to Juliet, content to hear whatever she had to say. The blonde had continued staring, lost in thought. James felt a small spark of pride at being able to pick up a hint of worry in her eyes; before, he wouldn't have seen anything at all.

"We shouldn't go through it; we don't know how long of a drop it could be," she paused for a heartbeat, the implications of her words hung heavy in the air, "But my best guess is somewhere underground. We need to find an access point."

Phil perked up timidly. "O-Oldham… His tent is next to a big hole in the ground. Leads into the caves, I think. But that's all the way on the other side of the fence."

"Something you wanna tell me about this whole underground business, Nancy Drew?" He knew prodding was useless; Juliet's best talent was keeping secrets. She stiffened a little, which was more of a reaction than he'd gotten before.

"I know what happened," she responded quietly, barely above a whisper. James' heart jumped at the prospect that she would somehow open up. I'm just excited she's gonna give information, he thought, pushing away the butterflies.

Juliet heaved a deep breath, her eyes suddenly glazing once more. James' heart dropped in his chest.

"–and I know where we're going to have to look. But I can't tell you any more than that, I don't know any more than that ." He watched her intently. She tucked a wayward strand of hair back behind her ear.

"Are you sure about that?" He only realized how accusatory that sounded after he'd already said it. She seemed to almost flinch under his words. She raised her chin and met his gaze coolly.

"You can choose not to believe me. But I want to find Miles as much as you do, even if it's hard to believe I care that much." She stood up, breath catching in her throat as if she was stopping herself from continuing.

James stood up as well, torn between being defensive or angry. How could she say she wants to find Miles? She doesn't even really know him. A small voice in the back of his head bit back at her. Then again, he didn't really know Miles either. His brief flash of anger flickered out, leaving him staring at her.

Juliet's eyes flickered to the still-worried Phil, and then back to him. "We're not going anywhere close to the Hostiles," She said decidedly. James could see by the look in her eyes she was dead serious. He felt a spark of resistance.

How could she fake him out like that? She should know that she can tell him things by now, that everything's water under the bridge. They agreed to truce, and he'd–

He looked up; arms still wrapped around Kate. Squinting in the bright sun that bathed the shore, he saw another figure on the sand.

"What the hell is she doing here?"

The memory felt like ice-cold water splashing on his face. He could tell Juliet was thinking the same thing. As much as he hated people stepping on his toes, he wasn't really in any place to lord over Juliet. She could have her secrets as much as he could have his.

Does she not want to go to the Hostiles because they might recognize her from the fifties? It's a little late for that–Unless she wants to keep a low profile, perhaps because she was plotting with them– He felt guilty for thinking that way. But Juliet seemed to assume the worst about him, too. Right?

"This is my fault." She stated coldly, as if it were a well-known fact. James looked up, brows knitting together.

"How could it?" His voice was a low, gravelly whisper. "He wasn't looking where he was going. He–"

"No," she cut across, "No… I mean this whole thing." She was silent for a moment. James opened his mouth to reply, but she continued. "You're all stuck here because of me; this is my mess. I'm cleaning it up."

"Don't say that, it's not true," he growled, unsure whether this whole thing was her fault. Even if it was, it's not like he didn't cause this too. "It's everyone's fault, if you wanna put the blame on someone."

"You don't understand, I have to do this–" Her breath hitched slightly, she turned away abruptly. She reminded him, in some strange way, of Jack–the compulsion to fix people. It irritated him, in a way. The fact that some people just had this instinct to fix and save people, something he'd trained out of himself at a young age.

"No, you don't. If you wanna help us, you could give us your top-secret Others manual, and maybe we can recover at least one person that we lost." She spun away from him on her heels, moving a hand up to her forehead.

"Hey," Jin's hand fell on his shoulder. He glanced between the two of them. "No arguing, find Miles." So much for not having my toes stepped on. Still, he took a few steps back. Juliet still stood with her back to him, hand over her face.

For a moment he feared she might be crying, but within a few seconds she turned to Jin, as cool and emotionless as the day they'd first met.

"I'm going to try and find an opening into the underground tunnel system, that's the best bet of finding Miles." Her eyes slid to James.

"All of you should stay together, I'll be fine by myself."

James' chest tightened. So, she's ditching us? To go feel sorry for herself? As if she had any kind of care towards us in the first place, like this wasn't all a ruse to get away from Ben. A wave of guilt crashed over him as soon as the thought was formed. He shouldn't be thinking that way. Right. She's leaving because I upset her.

He could feel Phil staring a hole into the back of his head. He'd been watching and listening to their conversation, no doubt. Though, the more time James spent with these people, the less trusted Phil seemed to be. Whatever secrets they had would be safe.

"Right," was all he could say, his voice sounding much hoarser than he would have liked.

Jin stepped up beside Juliet. "You cannot go alone," he sounded out, then looked back to James as if asking for permission. "I am going too."

He nodded. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he would feel like a jerk for chasing off Juliet all by herself.

"It's settled then, me and Jin are going to look for an entrance to the tunnels." It always surprised him how quickly she could switch to and from 'Others mode.' It was hard to tell what was real.

Defeated, but not ready to risk his pride, James took a step back. "Right, me and Barney here will make the rounds near the Truce border." He took his walkie off of his belt and waved it at Jin. "Anything happens, ring me."

With that, they separated. Juliet walked away soundlessly; not even looking back at him.

That sure as hell could'a gone better.

The first thing Miles heard was bleak, oppressive silence. The lack of sound seemed louder than any sound could ever be. Not even the dripping of water, ringing in his ears, or the droning ambience he had always taken for granted. Pure and oppressive nothingness. For a brief moment, he wasn't even sure what had happened, he could barely remember anything before this moment. Was he alive? How long had he been awake? He couldn't even tell if his eyes were open or closed.

Gradually, he began to realize that his eyes were open, but that they weren't adjusting to the light. He waited to see something, anything–little silhouettes or sparks of light, even–but the darkness stood fast. He could feel cool, smooth concrete or stone against the backs of his legs–he was lying down on his back, he realized suddenly–and still, stagnant cool air around him. He wasn't compressed under anything as best he could tell, but he felt a great pressure on him, as if the still air itself was weighing on him.

As he came to, he was able to move his toes in his boots and twitch the fingers on his right hand. His left hand felt oddly numb. Though there was no draft, he could feel cool air blowing on his left arm. Was it air? Something was making the fabric of his jumpsuit feel cold and sticky as it clung to his skin. Water, maybe? That was another thing he quickly realized; it wasn't humid wherever he was. Miles could feel something digging into his back, and grimaced as he forced himself to sit up.

He couldn't even really tell if he was sitting up all the way, or if he was right-side-up at all. There was no noise, no light; nothing to see or hear. The only thing he could use to ground himself was the cool, smooth floor. His head felt heavy, all of his thoughts fuzzy and disjointed. He took a deep breath of the still, stagnant air, startled by how loud his breathing sounded in comparison to the silence.

Miles began to remember, slowly, what had happened. He and Phil were arguing on that path, near a steep drop–he must have slipped and fallen over the edge, right? But he could remember being led off of it to solid ground. He looked up, or what he could best guess was up, and searched for any sign of his fall. He couldn't tell how far up the ceiling was, but by his massive headache he guessed it had been a hard fall. He twisted around where he sat, putting out a hand to feel for what had been digging into his back. He grasped empty air once, twice, then startled when he felt the object he had been laying on.

It was smooth and cool. Metal, as best he could tell. Some kind of long metal tube? He continued, grasping blindly onto the pile of stuff he had fallen on. His hand hit something soft and cool, a tarp-like material. A pillow, maybe? Grasping around next to it, he could feel a leathery kind of circle from which it extended. A steering wheel and an airbag, he realized. Probably the reason he didn't immediately crack his skull open on impact, he guessed.

Miles turned back around, planting his left hand against the ground in an attempt to prop himself up. He winced suddenly as icy-hot pain shot up his arm and into his shoulder. It was so sudden and sharp he almost fell over. Quickly, he brought his good hand up to inspect it. He grasped the cool patch on his jumpsuit, and his hand came back wet and sticky. Blood. Damn, I'm bleeding. Something wasn't right–beneath the thick, baggy fabric of his jumpsuit he could feel a strange bend that wasn't there before. Had he broken it?

Pulling his injured arm tightly to his chest, Miles cursed how stupid he was to go stomping off. How stupid he was to go on this little journey in the first place. He wasn't searching for any of his people, why should it matter to him who they find? And now he's god-knows-where, all alone with a broken arm. I'm alone. Again. He let the familiar burn of loneliness sting, and then fade. Whether he was third-wheeling or not, he'd rather spend his time hiding from the Dharma welcome wagon than in whatever dimension he'd accidentally fallen into.

Pushing himself up to the best of his ability, Miles reached out to steady himself. Other than the pile of manmade things that had apparently also fallen down here, there was nothing but him and the floor. The sound of his stumbling, clumsy footsteps was a welcome break from the silence. Soon enough, the palm of his hand touched something cold and flat. As he slid his good hand along it, he realized it was some kind of rock wall. It was safe to assume he was somewhere underground. Though, how he got there remained a mystery. He couldn't see or hear any kind of way up to the surface, no hole he'd fallen through. At this point, though, he was done questioning things about the magic island.

So, I guess this is my karma for being mean to Juliet? Island's way of telling me not to be a dick? Great, I heard it loud and clear. Even the island itself was pushing him around. He just wanted to sit on that stupid little porch on the stupid little swing and have a stupid little nap, how hard was that? He wanted to sit down and be alone and not talk to anyone. Well, he got his wish–there wasn't anyone to talk to down here.

Despite his antisocial tendencies, the one thing he hated more than being around people was being left alone with his thoughts. That, and being put in time-out by the island itself. Couldn't say he didn't deserve it, though.

He continued shuffling along the wall, relishing the cool surface against his aching shoulder. His footsteps were loud, but the echo did nothing to help him navigate. All he could tell was that he was in some kind of long, underground tunnel.

Despite the pile of manmade objects, the walls and floor seemed naturally generated; he was glad there weren't any steep drop-offs or breaks in the walls. Despite the fact that the channel was naturally made, it felt more like an empty subway than a cave. He didn't feel like calling it a cave at all, really. No stalactites or stalagmites or whatever the hell they were called. The floor was flat and walkable, walls were smooth and straight, and it was big enough for a human to walk through, if not bigger. It was as if it was a tunnel made by a giant, stone-boring creature.

Science fiction aside, the silence was starting to eat at him. His heavy breathing and shuffling footsteps would bounce loudly off the stone walls, then quickly fade into echoes. He would have started talking to himself, if not for fear of sounding like Daniel in one of his 'inspired moods.' What would Dan have done in this kind of situation? Well, firstly, he'd know way more about this than Miles would. He'd already have gone through his notes and would figure out exactly where to go and what to do.

This whole experience reminded him of when he was eight and had the brilliant idea of running away from home after something or another. Though, it was harder than it looked in a tight-knit urban neighborhood. After what felt like hours wandering through a maze of dark alleys, he'd come to find that he'd been walking in circles for a few minutes before his mother found him and brought him home. God, was she pissed.

The thought of his mom brought him back to the present–or the past, really. Of seeing her here, in the 70s, on the island. One hell of a coincidence, that she'd conceive him on the very island where he'd end up in the past. Young, healthy, happy.

He paused to catch his breath. Never before had walking in a straight line tired him so much. Leaning against the cool stone wall, he screwed his eyes shut and rested his forehead against the blessedly cold surface, trying to ignore the pounding headache. It wouldn't even be so bad that his mom was here, but his father–Pierre, he emphasized, wanting to distance from him as much as possible–was another story. He was just as much of an arrogant prick as he'd been in Miles' head all this time. But his mother… It hurt, seeing her so cheery around him. He wished he could go up to her and tell her the truth about him, that he would abandon her.

Miles jolted at the sudden shift in the air. Was it just him hearing things, or was there some kind of subtle, droning ambience surrounding him? That wasn't there before, was it? Maybe he was hearing his own pulse, or something like that. Or he just hadn't noticed it. But the noise wasn't the only change in the atmosphere. The air felt colder, even more still than it had been before.

Maybe I'm going unconscious or something. I'm gonna pass out. He couldn't deny the waves of fear crawling under his skin. Despite his powers, he considered himself a solid skeptic of anything strange or 'supernatural.' Sure, he loved himself a good X-Files or Ghostbusters, but he knew they weren't real. Then again, if someone had told him he'd be on a magic time-travelling island that moves, he would be skeptical of that too.

He held his breath for a brief moment. Was that the beating of his own heart that he was hearing, or footsteps?

Everything was silent.

"…Miles?"

The voice, loud compared to the droning silence, bounced off the walls and felt like it was surrounding him. His chest tightened, mind stalling.

"…Mom?"

Juliet swung her legs over the edge of a flat outcrop, pushing herself off the edge and dropping a few feet onto solid ground. She turned to glance over her shoulder, tucking a sweat-slicked strand of hair behind her ear. Jin was right behind her. He wasn't as adept at moving in the jungle as James, but he was certainly a lot quieter. Jin's standard-issue boots hit the ground next to her.

"Where now?"

Juliet squinted up at the way they had come. They'd descended from several outcrops, each poking out of the steep slope like a set of stairs. The path at the top of the slope was obscured by bright shafts of sunlight, silhouetting the vines hanging from the canopy above. There was far more shade down here; Juliet could feel cool, humid air coming up from the loamy jungle floor, a contrast to the scorching heat when in full view of the sun.

Heaving a breath, she surveyed the area around her. She could pick out a few more natural paths here and there, trodden mostly by the wild fauna, probably to and from watering holes. She wasn't exactly aiming for standalone water; most rivers and streams lead somewhere underground, which was most likely where Miles had ended up.

Juliet pointed toward one of the more worn paths. "There. You lead, I can catch up." She panted. She was tired, but not from the walk. Jin looked back at her, before nodding affirmatively and starting through the path. She watched him push aside vines and branches, glad that there was at least one clean-cut path.

The overgrown dirt roads that the Others used to get around haven't even been built yet for the most part. And animal-trodden paths were far more unpredictable, they could fall out of use and become overgrown within a few days. Juliet could recognize a few things here and there, but everything felt different.

Walking through the jungle came second-nature to her now, she didn't even really have to think where she was going. It was an advantage, but she hated how easily her time with the Others had overwritten her personality.

Just the thought of the Others—Hostiles, she corrected herself –made her stomach roll. She felt terrible every time they were mentioned. She wasn't one of them anymore, she defected–but that didn't mean everything was even. She should have known that. Her thoughts, as they always did, went back to James.

He was trying hard to be nice to me, to not upset me. It's not fair, he shouldn't have to do that. This whole thing was my fault. She knew, rationally, that she wasn't the one who had shoved Miles into the ground, or flung them all back in time, but she felt like she did. She should feel that way, Juliet thought. It was only right. The guilt would be her punishment.

It would be so much easier if everyone was mad at her, if James still acted the same toward her as he did that first day on the beach. That's how everyone should treat her, she reasoned. She stumbled, almost tripping over a root.

Jin turned, stopping in his path and blinking concernedly at her. "Are you alright?"

No. She heaved another deep breath of the thick, humid air. It seemed to catch in her throat, stopping any words from coming out. She gently placed the palm of her hand on the nearest tree trunk, leaning up against it, giving herself the chance to weigh her words before they were said.

"Um, I think I'm okay. Thank you." She sounded a lot quieter than she intended, but her gaze was too fixed on the ground to put any effort into speaking up.

"We can stop. For water." Shrugging off his pack as he walked toward her, Jin fished out a Dharma-branded bottle of water and offered it. Juliet took a silent breath of relief; she wasn't about to give herself the privilege of asking for water. Still, she received the bottle and took a sip.

"Miles is underground?"

"As best as I can figure, yes." She dipped her head, taking another sip before passing the bottle back to him. He nodded, looking serenely out into the jungle in front of them. Both of them stood, leaning with their backs up against tree trunks, facing a shadowy, cool tropical forest that stretched out in front of them.

Juliet followed his gaze out between the trees ahead of them. It was almost serene; had they not been on the island, she might have appreciated the view.

"Sawyer," He said simply after a moment, turning to offer her a sympathetic nod. "Want to talk?"

"There's not anything to talk about," she deflected without even thinking about it; a knee-jerk reaction. She could feel his eyes on her, though they seemed more understanding than anything. He was quiet, but something about him took a weight off her chest, removing whatever had trapped the words in her throat.

"I just upset him, that's all," She continued, the silence sucking at her. Something about Jin seemed to make her want to talk. "He… He was just concerned. He should be; I should have told him about–god, I don't even know how I would have explained it, if he'd have believed me–"

She cut herself off, letting out a long, slow exhale. The force of the words spilling from her mouth had lessened, leaving her breathless, but relieved. She wasn't sure how much Jin understood, but it was good to say it, at least.

"Work better, together." His gaze softened slightly. "The jungle… Not good alone."

It was true, objectively–she knew that. Safety in numbers. But it wasn't about that. She was the danger, and she felt that as long as she was around, bad things would happen. But Jin didn't think that, neither did Daniel. Miles didn't say whether he didn't. Juliet felt very strange. They should feel that way about her, it was right to be wary. But James' con thrust them all into this tight-knit mold that made her feel like more of a drag than an addition.

She could feel Jin's gaze on her still and let some of the tension bleed from her shoulders.

"Let's keep moving, then. We can make our way downhill from here and try and locate some running water.

She wasn't the type who could stand there and think; being alone with her thoughts was dangerous, she needed to do something. Danger to society or not, she needed to get a head start on finding Miles.

"They can sneak right up on you, and you wouldn't even know—and then they sacrifice you! To the—ouch—the island gods or whatever." Phil's rambling was interrupted by a branch whipping into his face as James brushed past it, shouldering through the dense undergrowth. It was cooler here, but he wasn't keen on trudging through kudzu and tripping over tree roots for the remainder of their stay out here.

"Oh, yeah? So that proves the Hostiles are werewolves?" If anything, keeping Phil talking would scare off all the wildlife within a good few meters of them. Since he was stuck out here with him anyways, James felt it best to humor him. It was funny, after being on this island for so long, to have the Others re-explained to him.

"I didn't say they were werewolves specifically—Uhm, are you sure we know where we're going? I thought we were going back to your boat." James came to an abrupt stop, the ever-clumsy Phil nearly bumping into him.

"We're going to find the guy we just lost, I didn't think it was all that complicated." He growled, patience thinning in the merciless heat.

"You should'a kept your chick around, she could navigate way better than you could." Phil remarked, rocking back on his heels.

"She's not my chick—" James snapped back, probably quicker than he should have, as if some kind of knee-jerk response. Immediately, his chest tightened with uncertainty. But why? She wasn't his, wasn't anyone's for that matter. If anything, she seemed defensive around him.

"She's not?" Phil seemed genuinely incredulous; James could feel his bug-eyes burning through the back of his head. He gritted his teeth, predicting Phil would jump on her the second they met up again. Not that he was jealous.

"She—You know what? It ain't none of your goddamned business. I thought you were here to chaperone."

Phil puffed out his chest. "I am," he insisted, "I'm here to make sure everything's going smoothly."

"Well, you're doing a terrible job, Officer." James flashed him an expression somewhere between a pained grimace and a forced, sarcastic grin. Speaking of meeting back up, where the hell were they, anyways?

Phil's defiant gaze drifted away from LaFleur and into the shadows. "You guys all seem to argue a lot."

"We weren't arguing," James grumbled defensively, trying to make sense of the tight-packed greenery they had become trapped in, "We were having a calm discussion."

"You two seemed like you couldn't wait to get away from each other." Phil remarked casually, following him onto the closest thing to a path that they could find. James clenched his fists together in an attempt to keep himself rounding on Phil.

"What, do you want the Hostiles to jump on us? I think we could get this done quicker without talkin'."

That seemed to shut him up, at least for now. By what James could tell, they were in some kind of kudzu-swathed trench in between two slopes. The 'path' that cut through it didn't do them much good in terms of giving them relief from the branches and vines that threatened to trip them. James was at least glad Phil was leagues worse at cutting through it than he was; it gave him plenty of time to get far ahead.

She's not my chick, she doesn't want anything 'ta do with me. Sure, she was nice enough on the surface, but the two of them were just so unbelievably different. Well, maybe not different, but incompatible. They both lied for a living in one way or another, both were outcasts–but Juliet, well, she was somethin' else. She knew everything about everything–even though she had defected, she still had that Others way about her. Cryptic, all-knowing, and secretive.

It was his job—or rather, former job—to unwrap people, know about them. Or at least, know enough to take advantage of them. But Juliet was more of a Haliburton case than a paper-wrapped package. It frustrated and intrigued him at the same time. They were so close–they lived in the same house for god's sake–and yet so far. She seemed to go out of her way to avoid talking to him. She could speak to him, but not say anything. It was unbelievably frustrating. But he couldn't keep himself from coming back, from wanting to know more. But, how could he? It was her fault for pulling back, he insisted. But he knew it wasn't true. They just weren't compatible, simple as that.

But he didn't like that answer, as feasible as it was. He had a feeling his discontentment was more than just the con-man's disappointment in losing a connection.

Uneasily, he hauled himself up and over the rocks in his path, grabbing onto a banyan root above his head to steady himself. For a moment, he heard nothing but jungle ambience behind him, and turned to see if Phil had been blessedly lost. However, he could just barely see the other security officer scrambling up over the ridge behind him; he couldn't get too lucky.

Miles pressed his back to the icy-cold stone wall; the world felt as if it would spin out of control if he walked into the open. He swore he could hear the flow of his own pulse roaring in and around his ears. I've been in the silence too long, I'm hallucinating, I'm going crazy. Despite having heard ghosts his whole life, he'd never once felt like he was going insane.

He took in a deep breath of the cold, stale air—and held it, feeling the cool stone at his back. He couldn't tell how long it had been since he spoken; it sounded like the words from forever ago were still echoing in the endless chasm. No response, so far. But nothing had tried to jump out and grab him, either. He let out the breath, valiantly assuring himself that he was merely hallucinating. He had just been thinking about his mom before she showed up.

Unsteadily, he shifted his weight back onto his feet, clutching his broken arm close to his chest and using his good arm to brace himself against the wall. It was the only thing that felt certain down here. Despite his best attempts to convince himself otherwise, he could feel the waves of fear continuing to crash over him –the primal gut feeling that something was terribly, indescribably wrong. But there wasn't anything here, he was just making things up in the lack of sensory stimulation –god, he sounded like Daniel–and there was absolutely nothing to be afraid of.

He couldn't go a day without arguing, even with himself. Miles could only shuffle a few steps before the cold, still air around him seemed to make his knees lock in place. Despite the cold, he could feel a wave of burning frustration wash over him as he realized he couldn't even control his own emotions. Miles Straume wasn't afraid of anything–except dying alone, maybe. Or the voices never stopping. Or all of the people he'd considered friends leaving and dying around him. For a moment, he was so distracted by his own thoughts that he'd forgotten what had scared him in the first place.

"Miles?..." The sudden noise made him flinch violently, flattening himself up against the nearest wall in some kind of knee-jerk fear response. He could almost feel the rippling echo of the voice as it bounced off the walls. It took him a moment to even comprehend that it was real.

Was it real? It had to be some kind of messed-up multifaceted hallucination, he was sure. 'Cause it really, really sounded like his mom–but unless she was also a fan of tromping around the jungle in hundred-degree weather, it was unlikely that it was actually her.

The air shifted around him, the still ambience becoming icy-cold and heavy on his chest. It was freezing, but he was still sweating bullets. It felt like there was a thick cushion of air between him and the voice; as the cushion compressed, Miles felt like it was approaching him. He took a step back.

"Mom?" He repeated, voice wavering. The volume of his own voice almost made his ears ring, it sounded so loud–he decided that the voice must be farther away, as it sounded much softer. He listened to his own echo traverse through the cavern. Just as it was about to fade into nothing but a soft reverberation, he heard some kind of shifting noise up ahead. The ground trembled subtly under his feet; it felt like all his other senses had been heightened since he couldn't see.

Again, he felt the shift as whatever it was seemed to inch closer. As much as he hated to admit it, it sounded real. But he knew his mom wasn't down here; she wouldn't even be able to see him. There wasn't any reasonable explanation–hell, he couldn't even think of an unreasonable explanation. What, did he astral project his mom down here?

A sudden change in his surroundings caught him off guard—the wall had been following turned a sharp corner. He stumbled into open air, the echoes of his clumsy footsteps being the only thing to guide him in the pitch blackness. His only sense of solidarity and direction gone, he felt vulnerable and exposed. He stumbled awkwardly in the direction of what he thought was the nearest wall. After a moment of grasping the air, he collided with the opposite wall, flattening the palm of his good hand onto its smooth, cool surface. He followed along a sharp bend, trying to hurry himself along as much as he could. He couldn't tell whether he was venturing deeper into the tunnels or heading for the surface.

Miles knew he'd turned the corner when he heard the voice again, echoing awkwardly to one side.

"Miles? Where did you go?"

He felt a little bit of his personality bleed through, his annoyance outweighing his fear as he decided to respond, just for the hell of it.

"If you could cut the act and stop sounding like my mom, that'd be great." His voice sounded harsh despite the softness of the echo, loud and grating on his own ear. He didn't want to give whatever the hell it was the privilege of him calling it 'ma'.

Immediately, he could feel a stark stillness behind him. It was way, way too quiet–even he stopped for a second. Miles wasn't the type to admit when he'd messed up, but he had to confess he felt the silence up into his bones.

Ah. Damn. It seemed like no matter where or how he moved, the sound would always bounce back the way he came, telling this thing exactly where he was heading. He kept attempting to bring up his other hand to help guide himself more quickly along the wall, but the sudden shooting pain would force him to jerk it back up close to his chest.

His boots skittered across the smooth stone floor as he swung around another corner, then another, running now, with only the echoes to guide him. Whatever was following him was trailing him but didn't seem to be in a big hurry. He swore incessantly in his head. So, I fall down here, crunch my arm in half, and now I'm being chased by the ghost of Christmas past. Great. If he ever got out of here, he was going to give the island a piece of his mind.

As he whizzed through another passage, he could sense an opening on his right. Skidding to a halt, he swung into the opening. He could feel the walls opening up on either side of him and the ground sloping upward. Hopeful, Miles veered to one side until he hit the wall, following it upwards. The ground leveled and the passage opened out. Squinting, he could make out a little bit of light. Relief washed over him for a brief second, but he could hear his pursuer pelting along behind him, giving him no time to get his bearings.

"Miles?" The voice echoed from the other end of the passage from which he had emerged. The echo was dulled by the opening from where light was coming in; it wasn't enough to fully see by, but enough to know which way was up. He could see the silhouettes of what looked like bars or roots crisscrossing the beams of light. If only his hand wasn't messed up, he could probably find a way to get up there.

He could hear the thing coming along behind him now –not footsteps, but a strange scraping, dragging noise, like a massive animal dragging its tail along the ground behind it. He stumbled quickly to the edge of the wall, bumping up against something that felt like a solid foothold. He braced himself to the wall, almost hitting his head on a sturdy bar or pole, crisscrossed with what felt like wires. It was smooth and cool to the touch.

Stepping up onto the foothold, Miles used his good hand to grab the pole overhead and hoist himself up. For a moment he balanced precariously just a few feet off the floor, reaching upward and finding another set of poles. It seemed to be a big, tangled mass of roots, metal poles, pipes, and wires over his head. The rest of the tunnel felt naturally generated, but for a moment Miles held out hope he was under the Barracks or another station.

"Where did you go, Miles?" The voice almost crooned. As it bounced and echoed, Miles could hear something in the call–something was wrong. It reminded him of how a parrot spoke, mimicking words rather than actually saying them. It was his mom's voice–or at least that's what it had sounded like at first. The more he replayed it over and over in his head, it started to sound dissonant and wrong. Miles held his breath as he wedged his back up against the stone ceiling, now thoroughly barred in by the mangled mass of pipes and supports.

It felt like his pulse itself was too loud, roaring in his ears. He wondered if the thing could hear his heartbeat. For a moment he wasn't questioning what this thing was or how the hell it sounded like his mom, he simply sat with bated breath as he waited for it to reveal itself. The light streaming from the ceiling didn't present itself in visible shafts, more like an eerie, ambient glow. It wasn't direct sunlight, more the reflection of a reflection of distant streams of light.

Casting his gaze downward, Miles felt his heart pounding into his throat as the silhouette of something came into view. He squinted hard into the diffuse light, seeing some kind of organic form hovering at the very edge of his vision. It was hard to make out the size and shape of whatever it was, but it didn't look human. It was almost impossible for him to tell what he was looking at.

It must have been breathing quietly, if at all. Miles could only hear the scraping and dragging of the rest of it across the floor. Again, he tried to make sense out of what he was seeing. Fur, maybe? Lots of fur, like different pelts all melded together. Lots of ridges and limbs. Unable to rationalize what the hell he was looking at, Miles kept as still as he could within his cocoon of wires and cables, watching it hover at the edge of his vision.

I did not sign up for this. I get snappy at Juliet, and immediately fall through the damn floor into the minotaur's labyrinth and get chased around by a rejected Goosebumps monster.

After what felt like hours, the thing seemed to retract into the darkness, and Miles could hear it shuffling back the way they'd come. He waited, then let out a breath of relief. At the very least, he knew he was close to the surface. If he could make his way over through the metal rods to where the light was coming from, there was a chance he could squeeze through. After taking another moment to make sure he was alone, he started making his way across the beams.

He shifted his weight onto each one to test it before he moved, the same thing he'd seen Juliet do when she was maneuvering over rocks or fallen branches in the jungle. He felt a kind of open hole in his heart, knowing she was probably looking for him. He hated being fussed over, it made him want to push people away even more, but he had to admit he felt bad. Not like he'd ever say that to her face, though. He hoped she wouldn't make a massive deal out of finding him.

Just barely a step away from the source of the light, one of the pipes bent and creaked underneath his boots. He barely had time to swear under his breath before the noise echoed down the passage where the creature had disappeared. Thinking quickly, he hoisted himself over and reached for the ceiling, grasping loose rock which showered to the ground. Finally, he got a hold of a good, solid edge with which to pull himself up. He brought up his bad hand and attempted to use it without thinking, yelping in pain and nearly tumbling downward. Miles kicked frantically, trying to find a bar to push himself up with as the shuffling and dragging noises came closer and closer underneath his feet.

His foot finally found a good hold on one of the supports below him, kicking him upwards to where he could climb up through an opening in the rock ceiling and into another passage above. There was a bit more light to see by here, but just barely enough to silhouette the edges of the walls and ceiling. Miles gave himself a second to pant for breath, momentary relaxation ruined by the sound of metal creaking and groaning beneath the floor. In a quick rush of adrenaline, he scrambled to his feet and launched off in the first direction he picked, following the source of the diffuse light. Stalagmites and columns rose from the ground, the walls of the cave far more natural than the bored tunnels he was just in.

Miles dove toward the first shaft of light he could see, skidding to a halt next to the thing which looked the most like a series of footholds dug into the wall. He could hear the sound of gravel and rock showering from where he'd come, and he knew he was being pursued. He scrambled upward to the best of his ability. The second he was on solid ground, he kept running. He barely even noticed the pain in his broken arm as he ran, going on pure fear. Miles kept running toward any light he could see, pounding down the most well-lit tunnels. He didn't know how fast this thing was but didn't want to find out.

Finally, he could see bright, bright shafts of light down one direction. Flying past the stalagmites and rock formations, he pelted toward the source. Miles wasn't sure if this thing would follow him up into the jungle, but at this point he'd rather be crossed by the smoke monster than something that could sound like his mom. Vines and weeds dangled down over the edge, a hole in the rock ceiling letting in sunlight directly from the surface. Just underneath the open skylight was a grassy slope that lead up onto the grassy ground. Escape. As soon as he felt the hot blast of wind from the surface, his knees almost gave out under him with the force of his relief.

Suddenly, his foot snagged on some kind of rift on the floor, sending him careening forward. He crashed onto the stone floor, landing directly on his broken arm as he skidded across the smooth rock and out of range of the warm sunlight. He barely had time to seethe from the pain before he realized he was lying in a crumpled heap right in the thing's path. Nice, he thought dazedly in the back of his mind, get taken out by some eldritch abomination, the one interesting supernatural thing that happens to me and nobody's even around to see it.

The throbbing, icy pain in his arm was the only thing keeping him from wanting to pass out. He was vaguely aware of the fact that he was laying on it but was unable to muster up the strength to move it. His gaze remained locked on the dark shadows from where he had come, waiting to see any sign of movement that signified the thing was on its way. He watched, dazedly, as the sounds of shuffling and dragging echoed from the shadows. He could feel tremors on the stone floor; whatever this thing was, it was big.

The thudding and shifting and dragging came closer and closer. Just as Miles felt it was going to burst into the light and reveal whatever horrid form it took; a sudden burst of bright light flew into its path. A torch, he realized, had been tossed right at the shadowy border. Miles shoved himself up with his good hand, scooting backward until his shoulder hit a stone wall. He watched the flame flicker and lap angrily at the surrounding air, sizzling against the drops of humidity on the stone floor.

Suddenly, something flashed right into the torchlight, hovering at the border of the shadows, just to where some of its form was visible. In the split-second it was illuminated in the warm glow, Miles couldn't rationalize what the hell he was looking at. It was organic, that was certain; but it looked more like some kind of mass of… fur and skulls. It was so quick he could barely comprehend it, but the very sight was enough to make his subconscious violently reject whatever he'd seen. But as quickly as it appeared, the thing retracted into the darkness, as if hurt by the light.

Shocked, Miles flattened himself to the shadowy wall as a figure nimbly sprung onto the cave floor and bent down to retrieve the torch. Reality hit as he saw the rifle slung over the mystery figure's back. Same rifle that Jim and Juliet took off the Hostiles they shot when they first got here. Ah, great. Out of the frying pan and into the fire. The figure stood to its full height and paused as if to inspect him.

After taking a moment to look him over, the apparent Hostile took long, confident strides toward him; torch in one hand, rifle in the other. Injured, alone, and lost, Miles could only stare blankly as the torchlight approached; the warm, flickering light eventually reaching his legs. His gaze locked on the torch's reflection on the barrel of the rifle, watching it shine dangerously.

He half-expected to take a gun butt to the head and flinched at the first sudden movement. For a moment, he braced himself for a blow, but felt nothing. After a moment of silence, he opened one eye, then the other. The Hostile had extended a hand to him.

"Are you lost?"

"We've seen that tree before," Panted Phil, his tinny voice lost in the midst of the jungle ambience. James didn't even want to muster up the effort to roll his eyes, it was far too hot. Yeah, maybe they had seen that tree before, but–

He stopped, gaze glued to the jungle floor as he realized he was standing next to a suspiciously familiar footprint, which was a suspiciously familiar size to his own standard-issue boot. Nice. Real nice. Kate was absolutely right; he couldn't track for anything. Maybe it was the heat getting to his head. Or thinking about Juliet. He shook his head as if to clear the thought.

Granting himself a moment's rest, James put his hands on his knees and took a few hard breaths, feeling like the hot, humid air was permeating his mind. Okay, he was walking in circles, now what? He'd be damned if he ever admitted that to Phil. He hoped they weren't completely lost, because the last thing he'd need was for Horace to come and "save" him–and, knowing Horace, get hopelessly lost himself.

He squinted through the bright shafts of sunlight that permeated the green canopy, tracing them up the long, spindly tree trunks to where the leaves met the blue sky. He'd have appreciated the nice view if he wasn't so pissed–at himself, at nature, at the island, at Phil.

They'd hit a fork in the path a while back–or forward, considering they were going into a circle. Maybe he should try and find it again? Go the opposite way and see how it worked. God, the heat was making it hard to think. He started dragging himself onward, up closer to the path.

Phil continued meandering along behind him, probably still whining and complaining under his breath. If there was one person he didn't want to be on a deserted island with, it was Phil. He'd rather spend a romp in the jungle with Benjamin-goddamn-Linus. At least he'd do something interesting, like make a murder attempt.

It made him wonder, exactly, how Juliet was so calm and level-headed all the time. It pissed him off in a way, he hated being the least reasonable one, but he couldn't help but be amazed. If he'd had to spend three years with Gizmo, he'd have lost it a long time ago.

"I'm sorry I kicked your ass, James." He couldn't help but feel a bit bad. A lot bad, actually. Juliet had that slow, ponderous way about her, like she was always weighed down by something. She didn't want to taze him, or to be a mole. But I don't blame her for that, I don't want to act suspicious about her. I don't want to offend her. He wished he could go back and do everything over again. Because now he just felt like a monster.

He hadn't realized he'd stopped walking until he felt Phil collide with him.

"Oof–watch it, Barney!"

"It's not my fault you stopped in the middle of the path, LaFleur–" His remark stopped suddenly as James turned to face him. Phil's bug-eyes were locked on something in the distance. Not really in the mood to watch Phil get spooked by something stupid like a mouse, he reluctantly followed the other officer's gaze. He frowned, able to see some motion through the shifting greenery.

For a brief moment he wondered if he'd wandered into Hostile territory by accident, before remembering that he had been walking in circles only a few minutes from the fence. Right.

Ducking his head to be able to slip through the greenery, James pushed his way through the ivy and kudzu blocking his path, snapping a few branches on his way through. He hadn't been very self-conscious of how loud he moved through the jungle unless he was walking with Juliet. She seemed to ghost over leaf-litter and twigs without making a noise, making him feel clumsy as all hell.

As soon as he broke through the thick greenery and over into the neighboring clearing, the last thing he expected to see was Jin standing at the base of a tall Kapok tree. For a moment he blinked confusedly, before following Jin's gaze up toward the canopy of the tree. Sure enough, Juliet was nimbly scaling the limbs up toward the top. He stood there, watching her for a moment.

He'd seen Kate climb more than a few trees. She always reminded him of a little girl, eager to get her new overalls dirty as she climbed up a tree just to prove she could do it. She was a bit clumsy, far from a jungle animal, but seemed at home struggling her way up toward a dangling fruit. Juliet moved so differently from her; every step and elevation she took was perfect and fluid, she moved like a jungle cat. Not a single noise, snapped twig, or slip in sight. She didn't seem to be taking any enjoyment in climbing it, it just seemed like another day to her, scaling a tree as casually as one would climb stairs.

"Well, I'll be damned." Jin started at his sudden words, but Juliet continued hoisting herself to the nearest branch, turning smoothly to swing her legs over the edge as she looked down on him. Her eyes locked on him for a second; he felt as if he was being scanned.

"Nice view," he quipped, thinking quickly. Her smile was enough to take the weight off his chest. He didn't know how much he had missed it.

"Got lost, I'm assuming?"

"We went in a circle, Phil stumbled out of the tangled vines, dusting himself off. "Your fearless boat captain doesn't know how to track."

"Good thing you came to ask for help, then." She swung herself down from the branches and back into the reach of the tree trunk, gracefully sliding down. He couldn't deny he felt a little spark in his chest when she smiled at him.

"James," she said.

"Blondie," he replied, coming to stand a foot or two from her. "Any luck?"

She heaved a sigh, her gaze wandering away. "Not really. We're looking for running water; most likely will lead back to a cave of sorts. I think that's our best bet."

"Whatever you say, field trip leader." She smiled and tipped her head in response. "Got any idea where we are?"

She hesitated before answering; James could tell she was trying to figure out how much she could let on that she knew her way around the island.

"Vaguely. Far less wildlife around here, so I'd say we're close to a road." Her gaze flickered over to one side, subtly motioning to a break in the greenery where James guessed there was some kind of road. The motion was so quick he barely caught it but nodded in agreement. Before Phil could pipe up, Juliet turned to him.

"Are there any streams nearby?"

He closed his mouth, thought for a second, then opened it. "Something like that, yeah–I mean, I really doubt it leads anywhere, but–"

James was on the ground ducking for cover before he'd even knew what happened. Three shots rang out into the air nearby. Juliet's reflexes were quicker than his, as always. She was half-crouched on the ground, looking straight ahead from where the shots had come. She didn't seem as wide-eyed and worried as the rest of the group. Unfazed, as usual. Another shot rang out, she barely flinched.

"We're being ambushed!–" Of course, we're being ambushed by Hostiles and your first action is to speak loud as all hell, great. He would have glared at Phil if the heat hadn't drained his energy. Jin was the second to slowly rise, keeping his eyes on Juliet.

"They're not shots from a rifle." She said quietly, hesitating for a moment before getting up. "I doubt they're Hostiles."

Getting up off the floor, and feeling a bit stupid for ducking so quickly, James followed her into the underbrush. She led them quietly toward a slope near the treeline. James' heavy boots slipped on the pebbles making up the incline, but Juliet wordlessly helped him up by the arm, moving on quickly. He froze on the very edge of the slope, hand ghosting over where she'd touched his arm, before following.

They crouched behind a screen of ferns and swiss-cheese-plant leaves, looking out over a patch of rolling grassland. Sure enough, there was a dusty dirty road where the hill sloped up to meet a ridge along the west side. There was a van parked half-on, half-off the side of the road. A few men sat on the edge of the open sliding door, wearing jumpsuits and drinking out of Dharma-branded cans.

Further down the slope, a few wooden pallets had been stacked to about waist-height. On top were several empty beer cans and one empty tin can, all lined up in a row. About a tree-length from the display stood another jumpsuit-clad figure, clumsily aiming at one of the cans. James flinched a little at the sharp ping! of the bullet hitting the can and knocking it onto the ground.

"The workmen," muttered Phil, as if he hadn't been frightened flat on the ground by the shots a few seconds ago "They're supposed to be doing a supply drop to the Flame, not drinking."

Juliet and James exchanged a glance.

"Mystery solved," he shrugged, watching the workman in question take another shot, this time shooting a clean hole in a nearby banana leaf.

"They're violating rules," piped up Phil, "LaFleur we need to get out there and–"

"That's not what we're doing out here, it's not any of our business," Juliet cut across him calmly. James blinked at her.

Phil gawked at her, before swinging around to look at James. "It is too our business, we're security," he frowned. "If they're drunk they could probably hurt themselves or something," He added, as if trying to downplay how excited he was to get someone in trouble.

Jin raised his chin slightly. "Miles?" He prodded, keeping half an eye on Juliet.

Juliet was looking at him; making eye contact. James felt his heart in his throat for a brief moment. It was as stupid of a decision as deciding whether or not to jump out and tattle on a bunch of drunk janitors, but it felt like more than that. He'd always known one can tell a lot about a woman through their eyes, but never had it ever been so true as it was with Juliet. It was really the only window he had into her thoughts.

"They're grown men, they can handle themselves, we'll just snag them for slacking off when we get back," He stated gruffly, barely even flinching as the next clumsy shot was fired into the dirt. Phil blinked incredulously as he turned away from the treeline and headed for the slope back into the jungle.

"You've got to be kidding me," he squeaked, his voice still low enough not to be heard by the Workmen. James felt Juliet push off of the treeline and follow soundlessly after him. Phil's boots scrabbled clumsily over the pebbles that led the way down the slope, sending gravel showering onto the jungle floor below.

"You're on duty, you're just gonna let those guys sit there and slack off?"

"First of all, we ain't on duty. We're just in uniform–" James half expected Phil to stomp his feet like an upset toddler.

"You're supposed to be out here looking for your lost crew members, but obviously you don't want to do that anymore–"

"Well, we lost a crew member a few hours ago, what d'you know? And, we're lookin' for him. Checks out to me."

Phil shrank back as Juliet strode around the side of him to stand next to James.

"Miles might be in danger," she countered calmly, "I'm sure the other security members will notice someone slacking off on their shift." Phil huffed at her, but said nothing. Again, James felt her slender hand come to rest on his arm.

"Let's go around the meadow and see if we can meet the road again, it might go over a stream." She prodded, meeting his eyes. She knew where she was going. Hopefully.

"Should we take a water break first?" She asked, extending a bottle to Phil, who shrank away as if for fear of being poisoned.

"I brought my own," he grumbled, beady eyes shifting from Juliet to James. He watched her nod affirmatively and start navigating through the kudzu-swathed wilds, Jin at her heels. Phil started to follow but turned to face the much taller James with a seething, beady-eyed glare.

"When Jonathan comes to take over as the new Head, you're gonna get what's coming to you. You'll see what a real leader acts like." James watched, unimpressed, as he slunk off into the greenery. His threat would have been much less empty if he knew who exactly Jonathan was. Shaking his head, James decided to bring up the caboose, laying his hand over where Juliet had laid hers on his arm.

Not that Miles would ever admit he was scared, but he'd be lying if he'd said his heart wasn't beating out of his chest. His critical gaze followed the hand up to the body, and face, attached to it. A wave of both recognition and cold sweat hit him as he realized why the voice was so familiar. Alpert. He fought to muster a bit of his signature spunk.

"Er," His mouth felt dry all of the sudden. "No, I was just running around underground for fun." The hand was still extended toward him. He reached for it with his bad hand, before realizing his mistake and using his good hand instead. Richard's grip was strong, but gentle as he pulled him onto his feet. He didn't seem to react to his quip at all, instead turning to look back where he'd come from.

If he knew anything about the Hostiles (he didn't, really), he'd assume whatever the hell that thing was might have been some kind of pet of theirs. That, or an escaped Dharma experiment. He decided it best not to mention something that he could barely even describe himself. He could feel Alpert's gaze settle on his broken arm, which he clutched self-consciously to his chest. He didn't know what was worse–being targeted for his injury and taken for ransom or having someone else to worry over him.

Thankfully, his gaze slid up to his jumpsuit instead, landing on the embroidered name and security patch. He cocked his head. "Miles?... I assume LaFleur's group has been accepted into Dharma's ranks."

"Unfortunately, yeah." His good hand ghosted over the patch of dried blood on the arm of his jumpsuit. Not that he was one for being outdoors, but he'd kind of rather be wandering in the jungle on his own instead of being interrogated–or worse, have to hold casual conversation.

Alpert lowered his rifle and slung it back over his shoulder, leaning his torch up against the cave wall. He slid a satchel off his other shoulder and wordlessly opened it, motioning for Miles to sit back down. He wasn't sure why, but he did.

"So, what are you doing out here? Do you know how far you are from any camps?" Miles guessed he didn't have much of a say in whether or not he got fixed up, as Richard began taking out medical supplies from the satchel and rolled up his sleeve. He could have–and probably should have–yanked it away, but he was… Well, he didn't really know. Probably in shock or something, yeah.

"Beats me. One second I was walking around and the next I fell through the floor." He didn't seem to react to that. Probably heard that a hundred times by now. He couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed.

"Since you didn't shoot me, I'm gonna take a wild guess that I'm not over the Truce border," He spoke up as casually as he could to avoid seething through his teeth as Alpert inspected the break in his arm. Miles glanced down at the wound, feeling a sudden jolt at his stomach at how distended his arm looked. He flushed with embarrassment as he realized Richard saw him flinch.

He frowned. "Truce border? No–You're a ways from any border at all. Unclaimed territory," His hands were warm and steady as he began to clean the wound. Miles was still unsure of whether or not he was in danger of capture, or just the discomfort of being in a conversation.

"So, what are you doing out here then?" He followed up quickly, speaking a bit too fast in order to cover up his distress at the stinging wound.

"I was just returning from running some errands," Vague and cryptic, Miles didn't know what he expected. If there was one 'Others' quality Juliet had, it was that. He guessed he wasn't going to get any more information than that.

"Can you feel anything past the break?" Well, no, Miles couldn't feel the strong hand gently squeezing his wrist – but he could feel his face flushing. He wasn't able to manage much except for a shake of his head.

"I'm guessing none of your group know you're out here," That could be Richard testing to see if anyone would come looking for him if he were to be taken captive, but Miles couldn't make himself lie.

"Nah," he said, dismissively, "I mean, they know I'm gone. They're probably looking for me," He added quietly. Juliet was probably dragging them all over the place. She probably knew about the whole falling-through-the-ground business before it happened anyways, magic Others knowledge or whatever. I wish she wouldn't care so much. We don't even really know each other.

"They're most definitely looking in the wrong place, then," Before he knew it, Alpert was splinting and wrapping up his arm. He breathed a sigh of relief but couldn't help but feel a sense of loss as his warm hands left his skin. "Sorry, but it looks like you're going to need a new jumpsuit."

He probably should have been threatened when Alpert suddenly brandished a knife, but he wasn't. Instead, he watched him neatly carve away the bloody fabric, leaving his splinted forearm exposed.

"This," he waved the scraps emphatically, "is a really good way to get yourself run down by a meat-eating predator," Miles wasn't sure what to do with this information, or how to respond. Again, he was offered assistance to get up, and didn't hesitate to take his hand that time.

"You shouldn't be out here by yourself,"

"Didn't have much of a choice," Miles shrugged to the best of his ability. He opened his mouth, wanting to mention that thing, but thought better of it. Still, his gaze lingered on the ominous shadows from where he'd come.

"I mean, you're coming with me." Speaking of not having a choice… "You don't stand much of a chance by yourself with little knowledge of how to get by," Miles would have been offended if he hadn't been right. Reluctantly, he swallowed his pride for the sake of avoiding death for another few hours.

Alpert gracefully scaled the small incline up into the sunlight, Miles trailing warily at his heels. He sighted a piece of paper poking out of one of the pockets in his dress shirt, which he tucked out of sight casually.

"So, you're helping me because…" He just couldn't let himself be taken care of. Again. Richard looked at him, confused. The sudden eye contact made his brain stall a little.

"We're on opposite sides of a war, and LaFleur did kill two of your men,"

"He repaid for the killings, no harm done," Not that Miles was the emotional type, but that answer caught him off guard.

"And I'm not really on anyone's side–I'm not supposed to get involved." Oh. Well that clears everything up. "Besides, it would be wrong to leave an injured person here by themselves, no matter their affiliations." Ignoring how confusing Richard's moral compass appeared to be, Miles was glad to be alive for now.

Thankfully, Richard didn't appear to be much of the talkative type, instead leading him wordlessly through the undergrowth and out onto a natural path through the trees. The warmth of the sunlight on his exposed arm was a welcome relief from the cold underground. Even though he was out in the tropical heat, however, Miles still felt a chill surrounding him.

Taking in the surroundings, Miles figured that they were somewhere near where Daniel had first dropped, close to where Jack's people had split in half. Therefore, close to the future location of the cockpit. Funny how similar, yet how different everything looked. It had an air of familiarity about it but wasn't outright navigable. He assumed Dan and Char must have come this way on the way to the Tempest, too. And, knowing Charlotte, she probably took some kind of risky detour which ran them into Kate. It was funny, how all of that felt like years ago. Or rather, years in the future.

"So, where's your scientist friend?" Richard asked casually, brushing a fern out of the way and holding it aside for Miles to walk past. He noted that he didn't mention Charlotte.

"Off-island, doing scientist things," The Others' cryptic and vague nature made it hard to tell interrogation from casual conversation. He'd thought Juliet was weird before, jeez–

He unenthusiastically straggled up a slope after Richard, who seemed to spring over everything with grace. Okay, maybe he missed the air conditioner a little bit. Quite a bit, actually. He was sweating in the thick, baggy, long-sleeved jumpsuit. Richard, however, was always dressed in formal attire, and was certainly not sweating.

"Don't you ever get hot out here?" Panted Miles, straying a bit off the path to try and walk in the shade.

"You get used to it after a while." Oh, that reminded him.

"How long have you been out here?" If you get to ask intrusive questions, I do too.

"If you're asking how old I am, I don't think I can give you a simple answer. I stopped counting," As with Juliet, he seemed to take it in stride.

He took a turn onto a shadier path, all the while not looking back. Miles tried to keep up as best he could; he didn't want people to slow down for him. However, he also didn't fancy dying in the jungle because he was stubborn.

"You don't look old," Miles piped up, finally falling in behind Richard, who seemed to sense he was falling behind and slowed.

He laughed a bit–a genuine laugh. It caught Miles off guard.

"Thank you, I think. I certainly feel old, though." Ok, he had a really nice smile. And a really nice laugh. Miles almost forgot that he walked onto private property to steal someone's dead body the other day.

Ok, Miles didn't like people slowing down for him. Or trying to take care of him. Or giving him first aid. But he had to admit, Richard was rather nice about it. Maybe the constant threat of being taken hostage made everything a bit more interesting. Either way, at least he was out of the tunnels and away from that thing.

"Stop trying to trip me, I know you're trying to!–"

"I am not tripping you."

"Don't make me turn this car around." James had picked up a walking stick along the way and shook it half-heartedly.

Phil shrank back and refrained from making another remark as Juliet slipped past him, falling into step beside James at the head of the group. He gave her a nod of greeting. "Alright Trixie Belden, anything else we need to do?"

She frowned, glancing over her shoulder at the other two members of their patrol. "If we keep heading in this direction, we'll hit a small stream that flows out of a cave; that's probably our best bet." She kept her voice down, moving a little closer to him.

He let his gaze flicker over her, trying to take in her body language. He noticed how close she was. Most likely just to keep the others from hearing. Should he start talking or something? Apologize? He opened his mouth to speak–

"Thank you–for backing me up, I mean," she started quietly. His heart jumped into his throat. "I don't mean to cause trouble,"

"It's fine, blondie," his voice sounded hoarser than usual "We're part of a group now, we stick together," James tried to see any kind of reaction; he swore he saw something flicker in her eyes.

"I just. Didn't want to get involved with the workmen at the moment…" She paused, as if deciding whether or not to continue, "I had a bad feeling."

"Others intuition?" He held his breath, wondering if he should not have said that. He let out a sigh of relief as she smiled and tipped her head in response.

"Sure, if you'd like to call it that." His blush made the jungle heat pale in comparison to the flush on his face. Alright, group still together. Maybe playing Jack wasn't all that hard after all.

"What do you think they're talking about up there?" Jin paid no attention to Phil, who was still insistently buzzing in his ear. Instead, he kept his gaze on Sawyer–Lafleur, he reminded himself–and Juliet, who were leading the group. They talked in hushed voices their heads close together.

To be honest, he didn't feel any kind of curiosity as to what they were talking about. They were both capable leaders; he felt comfortable with them. Juliet reminded him of Jack. He felt she was trustworthy and smart. That didn't mean he'd forgotten where she'd come from, though. He remembered LaFleur seeing her on the beach the first day, the panic as Claire got sick–Hell, for all he knew, she was the one who took Claire. He didn't trust her at first. Sun seemed to be the only one brave enough to approach her. Because she was scared to tell me she was pregnant.

Juliet reminded him of Sun, too. Strong, intelligent. As soon as he started seeing Sun–here, in the compound, in the 1970s–he didn't know who else to go to. He felt she would know best. If Sun trusted her enough to come to her with problems, he would trust his wife's judgement and do the same thing.

And there was never a doubt in his mind that Sawyer was capable. Jin knew as well as anyone that past professions didn't matter here–even if he had gotten a rough start on the island, Jin had as well.

He was unsure of John Locke's unfailing trust in the island, but he felt this was indeed a place of second chances. He had gotten a second chance with the love of his life–even when he felt he didn't deserve it. It only made sense to extend that mercy toward someone else. It was a man's duty to extend grace to another man. Since they had been captured by the tail-section survivors, he'd felt a kind of bonding loyalty to LaFleur.

But, seeing Sun here–it was shocking and confusing. He'd told Locke not to bring her or their baby ever back to this island–but Locke had a habit of ignoring other people's wishes for the island's. He thought maybe he was just seeing things out of grief. It looked like her, it sounded like her–but something was off. He couldn't place it, but something was wrong. He would hear her voice, see her out of the corner of her eye. But mostly, it was when he was sleeping or wandering toward an underground access point.

He thought Juliet would be the best person to inform about this. He saw trusting her with this information as an extension of his loyalty. Her and James seemed to fit perfectly into the leader role together, but they both had some kind of tension between them. Being a staunch supporter of second chances, he felt trusting her would be beneficial to both of them. She seemed surprised by the gesture, but he felt it helped bond them together.

She seemed to be as confused as he was by Sun. She'd said it wasn't like anything she'd heard before; not even the 'black smoke.' Since he'd confessed it to her, he felt it had improved the bond in the group. Juliet had always been kind to him; she even helped him learn English.

Miles was a strange story. He reminded Jin of Sawyer, but he hadn't known Miles for very long. He seemed more antisocial than Sawyer was–if that was even possible. Snippy, sure, but without the con-man charisma. He was surprisingly more agreeable than Sawyer was at first. Miles and Juliet seemed to get along surprisingly well, perhaps it was his similarity to James. Jin wasn't sure what to feel without Miles, but if Juliet was concerned about his safety, he would be too.

A flash of black out of the corner of his eye made Jin stop. He stiffened. He could hear the whistling of a breeze, but the trees and leaves around him were completely still. The breeze began to vary in pitch, the sound surrounding him, sounding more like whispers. Jin held his breath, watching Juliet up ahead. She didn't seem to notice anything wrong. In a split-second decision, he turned off the path and wandered closer to the sound. He felt a tightness in his chest, a close and familiar presence.

"Hey! Where do you think–" He'd gotten surprisingly good at drowning out Phil's voice. He was assured that Phil's squeaking would bring Juliet and Lafleur along behind him.

Gently pushing his way through the brambles, he swore he felt breath tickling he back of his ear. Suddenly, the greenery at his hands fell away, revealing a small clearing sidled up against a massive stone wall. Within the stone was a giant, gaping cave opening, the blackness almost beckoning to him.

Spurred on by the whispering, Jin stumbled forward until he felt something wet on his boots. He looked down, realizing he was now standing in a shallow brook up to his ankles. Turning around, he realized the rest of the group had followed him.

"That's exactly what we were looking for," Juliet stepped gracefully over the brook and took in the giant, gaping maw of a cave. Phil, rather flustered, was on LaFleur's heels.

"Are you just going to let members of your group run off like that? Can't you keep your people under control?" LaFleur paid him no mind, instead sizing up the cave entrance.

"You sure we're going to be able to move around in there?"

"Well, we should probably light a torch first."

Juliet placed her hands on her hips, staring into the dark cave before them. It opened like a gaping wound on the cliff face, an incline of grit and pebbles leading up to the very entrance. It wouldn't be too hard to scale; a few carefully placed steps would be all they'd need. And a torch, of course. Then there was the question of navigating underground–she'd always had a bad feeling around the island's caves and ravines.

Turning on her heels, Juliet strode to where Jin and James were searching for torch wood. Phil, dissatisfied with their adventure so far, had plopped himself on a rock and was glancing warily at the cave. Juliet slowed to stand in front of him.

"You're not going to help?" Phil started at her sudden words, then brought his arms self-consciously across his chest.

"I am helping, it's my job to supervise you." He insisted, side-eyeing her. Ever since she'd pinned him a few days ago, he seemed to act wary around her. She was used to being perceived as dangerous at this point.

"Well, maybe you can help supervise me in the cave?" Phil sat up abruptly.

"I don't–Why do you think we're gonna find your friend down there? How do you even know that?"

"He went through the jungle floor. Underground. Caves are underground." She tipped her head to one side. "You're not scared of the dark, are you?"

"Absolutely not!" That got him to stand up quickly.

"Alright, mighty jungle warrior, we bring you the gift of fire." Juliet turned to see James returning triumphantly from the treeline, a torch-worthy stick in hand.

"Where's the fire part of it?"

He shrugged, "It's a work in progress."

She hummed, satisfied, as he handed over the branch.

"Wouldn't have happened to have brought a lighter for our leading lady, would you?" Phil screwed up his face, then begrudgingly fished a Dharma-branded lighter from his jumpsuit pocket.

"Don't use it all up, I have to have a smoke sometime."

Juliet accepted the lighter and felt the top of the branch. Too moist to light, but at least the base of the torch was moist enough to safely hold. Scanning the area, she spotted an oil palm near the treeline.

"You two stay here, I have to find some oil to help light this," James raised his brows as he realized she was inviting him along.

"You know how to make a torch?" She called over her shoulder once they were alone.

"Maybe. Are we getting jungle survival lessons?" Juliet handed over the branch.

She slid off the backpack she had been carrying and walked over toward the oil palm, using the machete-like blade she'd taken out of her pack and firmly stabbing it into the trunk.

"To light a torch, you can't just wrap some cloth around it usually. You need something that will light. Like oil," Using the machete as a grip, she hauled herself up the tree, then dislodged the blade and stabbed it in higher up. She'd never really liked living outside, surviving off of jungle knowledge, but she had to admit it was useful.

"Let me guess; you learned this from the girl scouts?" James was surprisingly nice to her, she thought.

Too nice, for everything I've done. She pushed the thought away, not wanting to further divide them. He was charming, she couldn't deny that. They had a lot of similarities, but she couldn't think about what they'd had in common without the lingering guilt of having read his file.

"Sure. That's how I got my taser badge." She shot back, feeling a bit of warmth in her chest as he returned her comment with a sly smile. He was fun to interact with, too.

Juliet used the machete handle as a foothold and stood up carefully, grabbing a handful of the red fruit growing beneath the fronds. After checking how ripe they are, she swung her legs down over the edge of the palm and landed gracefully on the jungle floor, retrieving the knife from where it remained in the trunk and slipping it into the backpack.

"You're not gonna ask me to eat those, are you?" She took his hand and deposited the fruits into it.

"I wouldn't recommend eating them. These are palm oil fruits, where palm oil comes from." She used her hands to close his around the fruits. "Hold that."

"Alrighty then, your highness," With the fruit in one hand and the torch in the other, he seemed rather content to hold things for her. Satisfied, Juliet began taking off her first shirt layer, revealing the much cooler tank top underneath.

"Woah, hold on–Maybe we should move somewhere more private?" She gave him a look–a good-humored one.

"I'm only taking off one shirt–here," Wadding up the tank top, she wrapped it around the upper end of the torch. "You need to put in some work too, crush up those berries in your hand." She laid her hand over his, putting some pressure on it.

"These aren't poisonous or anything, right?"

"James–"

"Okay, okay, there," She guided his clasped hand toward the cloth-wrapped end of the torch, soaking the wrap with palm oil.

"You can pretty much guarantee there's a palm oil around no matter where you are on the island; you can use animal fat too if you really need it." She had to admit, it was nice to be the teacher for once. Surrounded by the almost superhuman skills of her fellow Others, it felt like she was the only one who was lagging behind. Even Alex, so much younger than her, made her own knowledge feel so small and useless.

James shook the remaining oil off of his hand, dropping the remains of the fruits onto the jungle floor and wiping the residue on the leg of his jumpsuit. "Alright, very educational. Now what?"

"Last step: light the torch. Just make sure you don't have any oil left on your hands." With a simple flick of Phil's well-used lighter, the torch sprung to life. "See? Easy."

"Seems like an awful lot of these Jungle Scout activities involve climbing trees," he sniffed, fully handing over the torch to her. His smile looked very nice in the firelight. She hummed thoughtfully.

"Maybe tree-climbing will be a lesson for another day."

With that, she swung the torch back toward the way they came and led them back to the clearing. Jin and James were where they had left them; Phil pouting on a fallen log in the shade, and Jin drinking water by the stream.

"You didn't do anything to Jin, did'ja?" Phil frowned at James' remark.

"I didn't do anything to anybody. It's not like he can understand me anyways," he huffed snidely.

Jin and Juliet exchanged a glance. The torchlight seemed to finally bring the entire group–save for Miles, of course–back in one place.

"I need someone else to go in with me; James?–"

She was abruptly cut off by Phil.

"Don't leave me out here!" He said, gesturing wildly to Jin.

"I do not want to be out here with him." Jin agreed simply, pointing to Phil. James let out a long breath.

"I can stay. Who do you wanna take?" Juliet blinked, then settled on the other security officer.

"Phil? I think you'd be good at supervising." If she could do anything for James, it would be taking Phil off his hands.

"Just the two of us? Alone?"

"C'mon," James gave him a half-playful shove, "you're not scared of a little bit of darkness, are 'ya?

"Not the darkness, per say…" Phil begrudgingly walked next to Juliet, side-eyeing her like one would a wild animal they didn't fully trust. Although used to being treated this way, she didn't mind Phil being afraid of her.

"Let's go, then," She nodded toward the stack of gravel and small rocks leading up to the looming mouth of the cave, "You go first."

Phil hesitated, but seeing Jin and James watching him, puffed up his chest and marched determinedly to the incline, immediately slipping and would have fallen face-first onto the shale, had Juliet not easily grabbed him by the jumpsuit collar with her free hand and pulled him back up. He yanked himself away, dusted himself off, and clumsily scrambled up the edge. Juliet followed.

Upon entering the cave, the torchlight was almost immediately swallowed by the darkness. By the time Juliet's eyes had adjusted, Phil had blindly stumbled a few steps into the cave. From what she could see, downward slopes and steps let the way down underground. She'd never liked being underground or going near any kind of underground opening. Not in present day, but especially not now. It gave her a really bad feeling–though most things in the Barracks tended to unsettle her.

Stepping carefully around an unstable-looking pillar where a stalagmite and stalactite joined together, she aimed the flickering torchlight down the almost manmade looking downward path. Phil peeked cautiously down into the darkened hole.

"We're not really going down there, are we?" He asked hoarsely, his voice sounding a lot louder than it did outside. Juliet frowned.

"I don't know," she started, "I'm not sure how safe it is," If there was one thing she'd learned here, it was to trust her intuition, which was currently telling her something was… off. It was a different kind of off than when she'd walk over manhole covers in the Barracks, though–a different kind of entity.

"I'll take a look, but if it isn't safe we'd be better off tracing the brook until we find another one," she kept her voice low, quiet enough not to echo.

"You don't know?" Phil exclaimed incredulously, his shrill voice bouncing off the moist stone walls of the cavern. "Why'd you drag us out here, then?" He took a moment to look her over before deciding he felt brave enough to take a step forward.

"How do you even know so much about these caves? Have you been here before?" Juliet resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The others might feel a bit more threatened by the thought of slipping up in their lies, but she'd been doing this for a long time.

"Keep your voice down, do you want to attract something dangerous?" She kept her tone cool and level as always. "You can go back if you want, but I thought since you are the chaperone, you'd want to keep a close eye on me," She gave him no time to reply as she carefully edged a few steps down into the blackness.

"I think I'll stay up here for now," he replied meekly, crossing his arms. She left Phil to peek over the edge of the crevice and watch as she descended, steps light and soundless.

As she crept further down, the torchlight illuminated where the steps ended and the bottom of the cave flattened into a floor, the other end shrouded in shadow. Frowning, Juliet realized that the cave ended there and didn't appear to go down further. Still, she wandered to the edge of the warm torchlight.

As the light began bouncing off the back wall, Juliet angled the torch closer to the floor. On first glance, it looked almost like a tunnel going downward, but as her eyes adjusted, she could see a series of even, square shaped holes in the floor. A manmade grate, she realized. Something she'd been told during her training suddenly resurfaced, primal fear rising in her chest as she realized what exactly they'd stumbled upon. She sprang back a few steps, the back of her ankles hitting a ledge and almost tripping her.

"Is there something down there?" Phil's shrill voice had never sounded louder; he'd quickly forgotten her instruction to keep his voice down. No time to scold him now, though, as Juliet felt a subtle vibration from the cave floor through the soles of her boots.

She cleared the manmade steps up two at a time, dropping the torch in the process. It rolled up against the grate, sending small pieces of grit clinking against the stone as they were pushed downward. The inaudible vibrations at Juliet's feet rose to a steady purr, then a dangerously close roar.

"Run!"

Within seconds, she had flown out of the cave entrance and soared down onto the jungle floor, Phil scrambling along behind her.

"What?–What's happening?–" She grabbed him by the jumpsuit sleeve and pulled him down from the cave mouth, immediately darting toward the treeline. James and Jin needed no prodding; they were already on their feet by the time she flew past them. Mere moments after Phil was yanked away from the opening, a loud roaring from the bowels of the cave caused the ground to shake and grit to shower from the top of the cliff.

Ferns and palm fronds whipped back, bending with the force of the air rushing out of the cave mouth. The violent burst of air was succeeded by the pervasive, suffocating scent of smoke, and accompanied by a deep, ear-shattering roar. Juliet could feel bits of gravel hitting the back of her legs with the force of the rushing air. She didn't even need to look back to know what was chasing them.

Her first thought was to split up from the group and double back behind the monster. However, contrary to the "save yourself, don't put anyone else before you" training she'd received, she wasn't about to abandon her group. She skidded to a brief halt, watching everyone else whiz past her, making sure nobody had fallen or separated. Once Phil, the last of the group, had dashed past her, she continued running, bringing up the rear of the group.

Something familiar caught the corner of her eye–she knew exactly where they were now, giving her a burst of confidence. But would they trust her if she told them what to do? Phil didn't even cross her mind–he wasn't the person she was trying to earn the trust of.

"Keep going forward!" She barked above the commotion roaring behind them. She could see the treetops surrounding them beginning to shake, the trunks bending backwards just seconds after the group passed them. It was getting closer, but with the thickness of the jungle and what was coming in their path, she was sure they could outrun it.

Jin had easily taken the lead, but as soon as he stopped up ahead, everyone halted abruptly behind him. He'd stopped on the edge of a river; it had been fuller the last time she'd seen it, but now she could tell it would only come up to her chest.

"Swim across, to the other side–it won't follow you across the water," she panted. Jin didn't have to hear it twice; almost the second she said it, he dove in without hesitation. James gave her a split-second look of disbelief.

"Can't go over water? So, it can't fly over this little stream?" He puffed incredulously.

"James–just trust me," She'd barely even realized she'd said it, voice edged with panic, their eyes locked. For a split second, she couldn't even hear the roaring behind them–it was complete silence, just the two of them as their eyes met. She held her breath.

She felt the splashing of water on her bare legs before she'd heard the sound of him colliding with the water. Without waiting for him to start talking, she dove in behind James and took Phil with her. After a few strong kicks, she'd waded the both of them to the other side and pulled them both up onto the stony shore.

Juliet barely had enough time to get in a few quick pants of breath before she bolted for the treeline on the other side. The monster wouldn't follow them over water, but she didn't want to goad it into finding another way across. The cool water on her skin did little to combat the oppressive heat; by the time she'd ran out of energy again the droplets were completely dry. One by one, the rest of the group filed in beside her. She'd half-dragged Phil along behind her, while Jin had been on her heels the entire time. She held her breath, waiting for the last member of the group to come along behind. One heartbeat passed, then another–

Juliet sighed with relief as James emerged from the fern fronds, shaking water out of his boots. His hair, still wet from the dive, clung to his forehead in messy strands. Upon sighting her, he dipped his head in greeting.

"Well, if you wanted to go swimmin' you could'a just asked," She had to admit, he looked nice with his hair wet; it reminded her of seeing him first rise up out of the ocean water when she was drinking on the beach, before the flashes started.

"I don't think it would have been quite as exciting," she countered, smiling. He strode toward her, calloused hands giving a loose strand of her hair a gentle, playful tug.

Her smile deepened; it seemed that being in mortal danger had brought them together. She wondered if joining the Dharma folk was a bad idea–if being in a safer environment was deepening the gap between them. She felt guilty for feeling that; if they needed to be in constant danger to get along, perhaps she was the problem.

James opened his mouth to say something, but Phil's shrill voice cut him off.

"This is ridiculous!" Despite everyone else being dry from the run, Phil was still sopping wet. The wet hair sticking to his head making his eyes look bigger and protrude more. Juliet thought he looked a bit like a wet rat. Fear seemingly forgotten; Phil marched up to Juliet.

"I think you set me up! This entire thing–dragging me around to look for your "friend"–this is some kind of trap. I think you, Juliet–if that even is your real name–are a Hostile! And you're trying to get information. Horace might have let you in easily, but I won't."

Juliet had never felt more neutral toward someone in her life. Had this happened some other time, she might have had the mind to feel offended, but it was kind of hard when she had to almost crane her neck downward to look at her accuser. At the moment, actually, she felt more at home–not comfortable, per say, more like familiarly miserable–than she had for a while here.

The monotony was suddenly broken as Juliet realized that not only had she zoned out, but James had stepped in front of her, almost protectively.

"Listen, Paul–"

"Phil, myname is Phil!—"

"Right, Phil, I don't appreciate you comin' up to my people and snapping at them just because you've had a bad day. I don't know if you've been on this rock for longer than a few seconds, but Hostile is one hell of an accusation to throw around."

Juliet blinked once, then twice. For once in a long while she'd actually felt surprised about something. James towered over Phil, who had now cowered back a few steps, lips still peeled back in a cheap snarl.

"Are you all in on it, then?! Is this some kind of scheme to infiltrate us?" He spat, his voice reaching a high-pitched crescendo. Suddenly realizing he was surrounded, he started to lose steam.

'My' people. He said I was one of his people. The fluttering of hope in Juliet's heart was dampened by a sudden thought: it could just be something he said without meaning to. But she couldn't remember the last time someone had physically put themselves between her and a threat before. She could feel Jin hovering nearby, watching concernedly.

Outnumbered and thoroughly humiliated, Phil cowered like a beat jackal, sniffing defeatedly. "I don't trust you–any of you–"

"Good thing 'yer not in charge then, eh?" Seemingly satisfied, James took a step back. "Just leave the lady alone, and we shouldn't have any more problems."

Juliet was unsure how to feel. Mostly, she was surprised. She'd been claimed and defended by another group–but this felt different from when Jack defended her on the beach. The stifled hope in her heart began to flutter again. She wanted to say she didn't need defending but being a part of a group meant helping each other–it was about what the action represented, rather than the need for defending.

"You still got my back?"

"You alright there, little lady?" She couldn't help but return his smile. The 'I don't need defending' balanced on the tip of her tongue, but she shallowed it back.

"I think I just barely survived," she countered, watching the still-wet Phil slink away to sulk out of the corner of her eye. She gently wrapped her arms around herself, balancing on her tiptoes inside of her boots. "It's a good thing you were here," She was only half joking.

"Well, maybe you should stick around with me a little bit, just in case," He seemed to have a way of getting to her with just a lopsided smirk.

She hummed thoughtfully. "That sounds like a good idea."

Jin had been watching them with half-an-eye from underneath the shade of a tree. After a quick glance to the sulking Phil, he moved to join the two.

"So, where to next?"

The stone at Miles' back wasn't cold anymore–it was hot, so very hot. It was pitch black, but he was no longer surrounded by silence. A droning, almost organic ambience enveloped him. He could hear the whooshing of air, but the air around him felt thick and stagnant, almost tangible. He groped around him for the walls but couldn't feel them anywhere–yet he felt claustrophobic. The ambient whooshing of air continued, almost sounding like breathing. He could feel gentle, thumping and pulsing vibrations through his boots, almost like a heartbeat.

It was so, incredibly hot. He felt he was somewhere far underground, but at the same time he felt the sweltering heat of the tropical sun. The ground shook and rumbled subtly with every pulse of the 'heartbeat'. Though the cave walls were solid, Miles almost felt like they were shifting and coiling, closing in around him. Panic rose in his chest, choked with the hot, stagnant air. His brain felt slow, the heat making it so hard to think. He stumbled awkwardly to one side, hitting a wall. His hand jerked back as the surface was almost searing hot to the touch, before realizing the wall wasn't stone. He felt

Something was wrong with the wall, with the air, with the floor, with the caverns. He couldn't hear his own breathing anymore; the thick, hot air felt like it was stopping up his lungs and throat. Were the cave walls closing in on him? He felt around for the wall he had collided with, desperate for some kind of purchase. His hand brushed against something solid and radiating heat, wet with droplets of condensation. He felt at it again, a sudden jolt of fear and confusion coursing through him as he realized it was fur, not stone.

Miles stumbled a few steps backward before colliding with the opposite wall, feeling the furry, almost fleshy surface give slightly with the force of the collision. He whirled around, groping in the pitch-black darkness. What he had once thought was solid stone was now revealed to be fur, skin, bones. He could feel where the short pelts matted with what felt more like mucus than condensation; could feel the ridges and surfaces of skulls and vertebrae. Every breath-like rush of air would make the wall of flesh and fur pulse, as if part of one body.

His bad hand had come to rest on the wall, and he jerked it back as the heat singed his flesh–wait, bad hand? It wasn't hurting anymore, wasn't broken, wasn't covered in blood. The realization caused the world around him to almost implode, the walls falling away and the floor and ceiling moving quickly together, close to crushing him completely. A deafening, guttural roar filled his ears, getting louder and louder–

Miles sat up, taking in a massive gulp of the warm, humid jungle air. What had just happened?–

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," A voice came from somewhere to his left.

Glancing to one side, Miles realized he was sitting in a bed of warm, soft jungle loam in the shade of a fern. He opened his mouth to say something, before realizing all the memories of his strange dream were rushing like grains of sand through his fingers. He brought up his good hand to feel his bad arm; there were indeed bandages, and it did indeed hurt like hell.

"What happened?" He groaned, half to himself. A figure moved out of the shadows and extended a small canteen to him. Miles blinked, squinting at the container before warily taking it.

"We stopped to rest, and you fell asleep–it's water, you're going to need it." Richard nodded to the canteen.

Miles sighed, taking a swig. Maybe it was poisoned, but he didn't really care at this point. Honestly, he was starting to think the rest of his stay on this island was going to be him ferried around by dangerous, jungle-dwelling strangers, so he might as well get used to it. To be fair, he'd rather be taken on a full island tour by Richard, rather than his gun-toting goons from the 50's. Then again, those goons would probably be waiting for him a second time back at camp.

Hauling himself up off the ground, Miles handed the canteen back with a nod of thanks.

"We'd better get going, we'll hopefully be back by sunset," He wasn't really in the mood for more walking but was much less in the mood to be eaten by a tiger or whatever else lived out here. It could be worse, anyways. Richard wasn't exactly the conversational type, which was fine by him.

The next few minutes (or hours, maybe? He wasn't really sure) passed by uneventfully. Richard took him through more hidden paths cutting through the dark wilds, and Miles followed unenthusiastically, only stopping to shake rocks out of his boots or swat at a bug. He was kind of bored, actually. Not that he'd admit it out loud, but he'd rather have someone to banter with–like Juliet. Or Ford. Or even Kwon.

Miles picked up the pace as much as he could, trying to fall into step with Richard. He didn't like feeling like he was being dragged along somewhere. While this wasn't exactly a walk of shame, it wasn't exactly the most glamorous thing either. Okay, Miles had to admit he was pretty bored. And since Richard didn't have any intention of shooting him (not that he could see, at least)…

"So, you're not gonna ask?"

"About what?" Richard frowned, keeping his eyes on the path ahead.

"You know, the whole 'us-showing-up-now-and-in-the-50's-perfectly-the-same' thing? You really don't have any questions at all?"

"I don't know, are you going to ask me about how I've been here this entire time and looked completely the same?"

"Oh," he didn't really know how to respond to that. "That's a fair point, I guess." There was a bit of silence, but despite his antisocial exterior, Miles was surprisingly nosy.

"I'm guessing people ask you that a lot?"

He shrugged. "They aren't usually polite enough as to ask; they typically find out only after they try to kill me." Surprisingly casual, but not annoyed. He really did remind Miles of Juliet, same kind of mannerisms.

"That sucks," was really all Miles could say; at least they could bond over mortal danger.

Miles found it kinda funny that a few days (or years) ago, Richard and his goons had him tied up and ready for the slaughter in some tent. Though, he could say that about Juliet as well. Any of the 815 survivors, really. I really keep forgetting how everyone I meet wants to kill me and vice versa.

"You get used to it."

The rest of the journey was completed in comfortable silence. By the time Miles realized his surroundings had transitioned from thick-canopied jungles to shrubby temperate forest, bright orange light was starting to permeate the greenery.

After a few more stops for water and rest, he felt like the surrounding area was vaguely familiar, probably from when he was marched up to the Barracks as a trade in present-day. That being said, most of the island just looked all the same to him. He wondered if Juliet had ever felt that way during her Others training.

The air was still far too humid for comfort (though being from California, everything felt too humid), but Miles could steadily feel the leaf litter begin to crunch under his boots and see small clouds of dust kicked up with every step as they entered the scrub like temperate jungle. Somewhere along there they hit a small stream, where a pitiful amount of water was gurgling over slimy pebbles in a riverbed that seemed suited for a much larger amount of water. Richard slowed to inspect it for a second but kept walking; Miles followed.

Not that he ever considered himself a nature person, but he had to admit that being dragged back to the Barracks by Richard was much more of a peaceful walk than he'd imagined. Still, he was starting to miss the air conditioner. For some reason though, it was a lot more pleasant out away from the Barracks. Then again, the bugs were a definite problem here.

Miles barely noticed that Richard had led him down a steep hill covered with rocks, then past a yawning cave mouth. The dark, solemn shadows from within felt like they were calling him. Again, he wondered if he should bring up that thing–but decided he'd risked his pride more than enough times already today. Shivering at the slight draft that drifted from the gaping maw, he started walking a little faster.

All of the jungle kind of looked the same to him; he was surprised (well, not really, the abilities of the Others never really failed to surprise him) at how quickly and methodically Richard led the way through the winding greenery, as if navigating purely by memory. Probably came with being old and all. Even Juliet would have looked clumsy in comparison to him.

After a moment Richard slowed, then eventually stopped. Miles, not paying attention, almost bumped into him. He was more concerned with how embarrassed he was than with the resurfacing pain in his broken arm as he self-consciously brought his arms close to his chest, trying to brush it off. Oh, wait, we stopped–Why did we stop?

"Don't say anything, let me take care of this," Richard was saying, carefully retrieving and unfolding the slip of paper from his shirt pocket.

"Take care of what?" He may have been thinking too much about Richard to pay attention to where he was going, but he definitely would have heard–

Before he could say anything else, the sound of heavy footsteps sounded from somewhere alarmingly close; Miles wondered how it had gotten that close without him hearing. Within a few seconds, the sound of heavy feet thrumming against the jungle floor was heading straight towards them.

Miles resisted the urge to scramble back out of the way as a broad-shouldered bay mare came barreling out of the ferns, immediately rearing in surprise at the two men standing nearby. Miles shrank back from the clouds of dust the rearing mare kicked up, and on closer inspection, realized that there was actually a person riding her.

"Bloody hell, do you have to always be in my way, Richard? And you brought, what, a prisoner?" The horse seemed to settle slightly, allowing a better view of the man sitting atop her. Miles squinted–he looked and sounded vaguely familiar. He also sounded very British.

His eyes suddenly fell on Miles, "Oh–It's you,"

"Yeah, it's me," Miles repeated slowly, unsure of whether or not this was a good time to be sarcastic. Suddenly realizing he was half-hiding behind Richard, Miles cautiously stepped into clearer view, dusting some bits of leaf-litter off his shoulders.

The mare, upon seeing Miles, began to shake her head and shift her forehooves nervously, to the dismay of her rider. As if suddenly forgetting Miles was there, the rider turned again to scowl at Richard, who had been standing calmly in the same place for this entire time.

"Why is he here?"

"Miles is to be our guest until he is able to return to his people," He said calmly, presenting the horseman with the unfolded piece of paper. "I brought back what I said I would, do you want to read it, Charles?"

Charles frowned, eyes flickering from the paper to Richard, before swatting it away. "No, no I don't need to read it. What do you mean by 'guest'? I'm not keen on harboring these stowaways again; you might like being ordered around by castaways, but I'd rather not," Oh, right, from the tent.

Richard's gaze slid calmly to the mare, who was now shaking her head uncomfortably, looking out of the corner of her eye at Miles. Richard reached up to rest the palm of his hand on her muzzle, as if to inspect her face.

"When's the last time you took Nutmeg's bridle off? I hope it hasn't been on all night," He changed the subject coolly, though his attempt didn't seem to settle the horse–Nutmeg, any.

"Never mind that," sputtered Charles, swiping Richard away from the horse and tugging on her bit to get her attention. Miles held back a snicker as Charles screwed up his face in embarrassment. "If you're going to tie up the prisoner then do it quick, maybe I can drag him along behind,"

"He's a guest, not a prisoner," countered Richard, gently patting Nutmeg on the flank. "Maybe you can accompany us back? Since you're so concerned," Charles screwed up his face, gaze shifting from Richard to Miles and back.

"Fine, then," he snorted, giving the reins an exasperated tug. Nutmeg, seemingly glad to put distance between her and Miles, was happy to set off at a trot. Richard, not waiting for an answer, smoothly fell into step alongside the horse. Feeling a little awkward, Miles followed, sticking close to him.

"Friend of yours?" He nodded to the disgruntled Charles atop the horse, who was pretending not to pay any attention to either of them.

"You could say that," Richard replied, tucking the piece of paper back into his shirt pocket. Classic Others response, short and vague. Miles couldn't help himself from being nosy.

He found it kind of strange–actually, pretty strange–that he was being babysat by the person who, in the 50s, kindly explained to Daniel that his people had murdered a group of soldiers in the most casual way possible. Still, Miles' definition of 'weird' was a little skewed by now. He was, after all, in a tight-knit group with one of Linus' people, who they were sent to the island to get rid of. Very strange, this all was. And I thought the freighter was a ragtag group.

Miles felt his heart drop a little; but he wasn't entirely sure why. Noticing the bright orange rays of sunset starting to dull into dim, maroon light as starlight crept through the canopy; it reminded him of how he'd been out by himself almost all day.

Of course, Richard was surprisingly friendly, but something felt incredibly off. No, no that he was spending the day with a mass-murderer, he could put that aside, but how empty he felt. He'd chalked it up to the shock of what had happened in the tunnels, but now it was plain to see he was missing something. Or I'm just thinking too much –yeah, that's it.

Okay, now time to think about how he was more likely to be held hostage for some kind of bargain rather than be a 'guest', as Richard had put it. If Alpert had wanted him dead, he would have just shot him right out there; but he didn't. That means he needs him for something, right? Now if Alpert spares him and treats him kindly, and the rest of the Dharma folk find out, they're gonna think something's up, and think they're part of the Hostiles. But the alternative, being held hostage and/or shot like a real Dharma member would not only be pretty anti-climactic, but probably screw all of them over.

If only I hadn't run off like an idiot. He tried to leave it at that, but as the sunlight dwindled, it was easier to see the little flickering torches up ahead, and he felt apprehension rise in his chest. There wasn't any backing out, it was looking like he was gonna spend the night in the Hostiles' camp until they decided what to do with him.

The branches making up the thin, shrubby canopy overhead began to knit together as if to form a tunnel of greenery, treetops rising to more of a proper jungle height. The path on one side sloped up to form a shoulder-height incline, roots and rocks jutting out of the dirt wall as grass and greenery draped from the overhang. As they approached, Miles could see the torches flickering in several places, and the silhouettes of many canvas tents pitched in the wooded clearing and further up the slope.

Nutmeg was probably the only one of them happy to return to camp, picking up pace as the torchlight came into sight and leaving Miles and Richard in the dust as she trotted happily into the midst of the tents, almost bumping into a woman walking nearby in her hurry to get away from Miles. He stopped walking abruptly; Richard continued a few steps before noticing he wasn't following.

"We're not taking you prisoner, if that's what you're thinking," Miles was almost inclined to trust him for a moment but bristled instinctively. Taking handouts wasn't something Miles Straume did. Okay, yeah, he was pretty hungry and tired, but that didn't mean anything.

"I don't think I'm very welcome," Miles realized that sounded more pitiful than he'd thought, and shrunk into himself, suddenly feeling very awkward. Can't really remember the last time I felt welcome anywhere–that's stupid, why did I stay that?

"You don't need to worry about him; we're not going to keep you here if you don't want to be here–but although I can walk for a long while without rest and sustenance, I assume you can't." He blinked coolly. God, why did he have to be so calm and logical about this? It made Miles feel unreasonable.

Was it just him, or did the surrounding area get really dark all of the sudden? There was still sunlight just a few seconds ago; now it felt extremely dark. The torchlight, despite being centered in the Hostiles' camp, looked very warm and inviting compared to the shadows. Miles felt even more awkward just standing out in the darkness, so he took a few steps forward.

"You can stay out here if you really want to, but–"

"What, you think I'm dumb? I'd rather get eaten by other people than by a tiger," Miles cut him off quickly, trying not to feel more awkward than he already was. Richard seemed either unaffected or completely oblivious to his flustered demeanor. Perhaps it was just his mind playing tricks on him but stepping into the warm torchlight banished the chill he'd had.

Having made up his mind, Miles strode almost confidently. However, he only got a few steps past Richard before he felt wildly out of place and noticed that there were an awful lot of people around here, and an awful lot of them were staring at him. It was only when a few of the rag-clad Hostiles started grabbing guns that he felt this wasn't really a good idea.

"Who—" started one of them, almost immediately reaching for her rifle. Before she could point it in his direction, Richard stepped smoothly in front of him, palm raised.

"It's alright, he's a guest of ours." Miles wasn't sure whether to be offended that he seemed like he needed protecting or impressed at Richard's ability. Either way, he ducked his head and let Richard lead him through the camp. Eager to get out of range of the standard-issue Hostile rifles, he tagged quickly along behind him. Miles tried to keep his head down.

Before he knew it, he was brought to where the land rose sharply upward, rocks and roots weaving in and out of the packed dirt wall, greenery and leaflitter spilling over the waist-height overhang. The upper layer of the camp was very sparse, much less people and tents spaced between the towering trees. Miles opened his mouth to protest climbing, but before he could, Richard firmly tugged him up by his good arm without a word.

Finally, he was taken to another tent, not unlike the one he and the rest of his team were held captive in, hooray. Though, instead of an empty interior aside from a sorry-looking picnic table, this tent was obviously lived in. Nets and ropes were stored on the walls and draped from the canvas ceiling, dangling over a neat but unused-looking cot toward the far end. On the side there was a very used-looking desk, stacked with all manners of papers and several mugs; some of them stacked on top of each other, others next to each other, all various levels full of cold coffee dregs. The interior was a mixture of meticulously neat and stressfully disorganized. Miles let himself be ushered to the neatly made cot in the back wall, realizing he'd have to resign himself to being fussed over. Again.

Miles wondered how long he'd have to put up with people taking care of him whether he liked it or not. Was that just part of being a group? Hell if he knows. He remembered, vaguely, one time on the freighter where he tripped over some wiring and sprained his ankle, and Charlotte had to patch him up. Of course, she called him an idiot while doing it–he wasn't an idiot by the way, anyone would have tripped over the wiring–but that was probably the first time the two of them had actually talked.

Miles started to feel a little antsy all of the sudden. It was– what, the third time? Fourth?–where he couldn't decide if he was really being treated as a guest or taken hostage. With Juliet, there was no question she didn't have any ulterior motive–granted it was annoying she cared so much about him and Dan, and he kind of missed being held at gunpoint. But Richard and all his rag-clad Hostile buddies were a whole different ballgame. Rather than feeling like he'd been rescued and delivered back home, he felt more like the one time he had gotten lost and his mom had to drag him home and scolded him for walking off.

Ugh, I don't even want to think about my mom right now. The chillingly off-sounding mimicry of her voice bounced around in his head. He'd made up his mind to tell Juliet by now–might as well, she probably knew about it anyways.

By the time Richard was finished changing his bandages, Miles couldn't get the thought out of his head that he'd spent the whole day away from the rest of his crew. Sure, Miles Straume didn't need anyone, but it'd sure be nice. The flickering of the oil lamp on the bedside was almost mesmerizing, but he felt restless.

"I know you're wanting to get back to your people–"

"Yeah, I am," Miles blurted out without meaning to, scolding himself for how desperate he sounded.

" –But you're still a good walk away and being injured, and not used to walking long distances, I assume." Richard didn't seem to notice, instead fiddling with the first-aid satchel he'd brought along.

"Oh, come on, I used to walk the whole way to school." Miles piped up, relieved for at least some kind of banter.

"And how far was that?"

"Few blocks, I guess…" He wondered how far away the Hostile camp was from Dharmaville. Before he could add any more banter, the canvas tent suddenly opened. A blonde woman strode a few steps inside, before suddenly noticing Miles was there.

"Am I interrupting something?" She asked blankly. Miles wondered if it was just bad luck, or there was something about him that seemed to attract Brits. He met eyes with the blonde chick for a moment. Oh. Chick from the tent that pointed a gun at me.

"No, you're not," Richard rose to his feet, turning to face her. "I'm assuming you're here to see our guest?"

"Eloise, right?" Miles was getting tired of being re-introduced to people; being a time traveler was surprisingly exhausting. She stopped, as if seeing him there for the first time. Their eyes met for a moment, and Miles got a strange feeling about her. Something was… off. Yeah, she was the same chick from the fifties but… Huh. Now that he was thinking about it he couldn't really put words to it.

"Yes," she answered simply, as if not surprised at all by how he knew. After another heartbeat of awkward eye contact, she turned to Richard. "Did you look at that contract they want us to sign?"

"Yes, I did, but–"

"I think it's stupid. They let in outsiders and ask us to keep our numbers down." Without waiting for a response, she snatched a paper off one of the many stacks and tilted it, inspecting it. Richard trailed behind her, frowning.

"Do we need to discuss this right now? I'm kind of busy,"

"You're always busy, and he's not going to tell anyone anything. Are you, Miles?"

Miles was starting to feel awkward. Not that he wasn't nosy, but he didn't feel like any of this was his business. Plus, it was boring gossip, not the fun stuff like Daniel sleeping with socks on–which Miles still didn't understand.

"Yeah, I just kinda wanna go home." His gaze flickered from Richard to Eloise and back. Eloise blinked at him.

"There, see? He's fine–Oh, and Charles used your saddle on Nutmeg again, just thought you should know," She continued vacuously, placing the contract back on the table and turning on her heels. "I'll be in my tent. Good evening!" With that, she curtly exited the tent. Miles didn't realize until a few heartbeats after she'd left that she knew his name without him saying it.

"Not that I'm jealous of you two flirting or anything, but maybe you can go and ask someone at the Truce border to give me a lift back?"

"Flirting?... Erm, no I can't exactly do that." Richard was tidying up the papers that Eloise had displaced, frowning. "You're not exactly part of Dharma, we can't apply the same rules to you that we do to them. We'll bring you back once you're done resting, I think LaFleur would rather you be brought back in one piece."

"So, I'm in time out?"

"More like bedrest. Maybe we can talk about it after you get something to eat."

Miles huffed and crossed his arms like a petulant child, but his growling stomach betrayed him. He realized that it was now completely dark outside. He had to admit, he felt kind of bad getting the bedrest treatment while LaFleur and Juliet were dragging everyone all over the place looking for him.

Miles watched the oil lamp on the bedside flicker as Richard exited. At least I'm not in a cave anymore.

Left, right, left, right, step in some brambles, try to play it off, get tangled up and have to stop to fit it, check to see if anybody saw, left, right, left, right…

James never thought that a few nights on an air-conditioned couch would take away his knack for jungle-crawling, but here he was, huffing and puffing up the slope back towards the road. Maybe it was just being close to Juliet, who looked far from exhausted, easily taking the steep slope like a champ. He never thought being shown up would be so… enjoyable.

He was glad to see her mostly unperturbed, but he could tell something was up. Something was always up with her. The pale, amber rays of sunset cast her drawn face in a somber light, highlighting the weariness in her eyes. She wants to find Miles. He wondered if she ever got tired, caring about everyone but herself.

Despite his aching feet, he pushed himself to speed up and fall into step with her, sending bits of leaflitter scattering down the slope as he did so.

"How're we feeling, jungle superstar?" He puffed.

"Energized. I think I could go for another few laps, what about you?" For a moment he wasn't breathless because of the climb. Though it was a joke, he could tell she was slowing down for him.

James felt a small burst of satisfaction at quickly being able to spot the disappointment in her eyes, presumably at not finding anything interesting. He wondered if it was his fault, he'd come on too strong wanting to go to the Truce border.

"We'll find him," he forced out, the vulnerability obvious in his voice. Maybe it was a risk, extending himself like this, but Juliet was doing nothing short of running herself ragged trying to keep everyone together.

He wondered if she was genuinely surprised for a moment, or if he was just seeing things.

"I thought you said he was annoying?" She quipped, adjusting the pack slung over her shoulder. That was probably the first time she'd broke eye contact before him; the moment went by so quick he barely noticed.

"He is annoying, but we gotta stick together, yeah?"

She smiled. "That's true–he is kind of annoying."

Finally, they crested the vegetated slope and arrived on the very edge of a well-used dirt road, cutting through the scrubby, temperate jungle. Sunset was late on the island, and though beautiful, it ended quickly. He hoped they weren't too far out; they weren't supposed to be out here all day. He watched the distant bamboo and tree trunks become silhouetted by the fading rosy glow near the horizon.

"Back the way we came?" Suggested Jin, being the second-to-last up the slope. Phil, huffing and puffing, dragged up behind him.

"We came… from the other side… of this road…" Maybe keeping him exhausted would be the best way to keep the peace.

James surveyed the area, frowning. It was unlikely they'd get back before dark. Knowing Horace, he probably wouldn't care, but it wasn't how he expected to end the day. He reached for Juliet's arm to get her attention.

"Do we wanna go and get reinforcements?" She considered it for a moment, letting his hand linger on her arm, then broke the contact as she took off the satchel she had been carrying.

"It couldn't hurt," she agreed quietly.

Her head swung up for seemingly no reason. He followed her gaze, and visibly started when a van came pattering around the bend not a moment later. He didn't realize how dark it had gotten until the headlights were shining right in their direction.

Upon noticing them, the driver brought it to a swift stop, the metal frame creaking as it halted on the packed dirt. As his eyes adjusted to the headlights, James spotted Horace waving enthusiastically in the passenger seat.

The driver was someone he didn't know; the low lighting made his drawn face shadowy and unnerving, contrasting Horace's demeanor. The smaller man swung open the passenger door and hopped onto the dirt.

"Hey, I wondered where you all were! Heading back now?" James could feel Juliet stiffen a bit at his side.

The driver slowly exited as well, adjusting his long, spotless labcoat as he did so. He took in the ragged group with a far-from-enthused expression.

"Where's the other one of your group?" His eyes, surprisingly, landed right on Juliet.

"We've had an issue," She started calmly. James noticed she'd move her arm back in range and brushed a hand against it reassuringly.

"Small setback, one of our men got himself lost," He picked up, watching as the driver–Pierre, by the name on his labcoat–listened bemusedly.

Horace frowned. "Need help? We can send out the rest of the team to search–"

"Miles, right?" Pierre cut him off, giving the group another quick glance as if to make sure he was correct. James would have been surprised that he knew Miles' name, had they not all been wearing jumpsuits with their first names in big, black letters.

"Yes, he's the one who's lost." Juliet's demeanor changed slightly, watching Pierre with a kind of curiosity in her eyes. There was something about him that struck James as familiar, as well.

He glanced between the two–leaders? He wasn't sure what to call either of them, maybe just high-ranking residents–and tugged Juliet a few steps toward them.

"I suppose a ride couldn't hurt,"

Though it was true Miles hadn't been ruthlessly interrogated, eaten alive, or waterboarded, something worse than that had happened–he had to let Richard drag him around and make him eat until he was sufficiently 'taken care of,' then had to sit around awkwardly waiting for something else to be done to him. Okay, sure, his arm was a little messed up but that didn't warrant babysitting. He really would have preferred waterboarding.

Now here he was, sitting outside someone's tent on a wooden crate, watching Richard, Eloise, and Charles argue over god knows what. Charles seemed more concerned than anyone that Miles would want to go and share information with Horace–which, Miles couldn't imagine wanting to talk to Horace for any reason, especially not Hostiles' gossip–but Eloise didn't bat an eye. Apparently, being from a group of shipwreckers had its perks. He would have listened in to the argument if he had enough energy to be nosy.

It felt like he was back in the fifties again, having to sit around until Richard decided what to do with him while arguing with the two others. Except he was alone this time. And his arm was broken.

"You can't just do things like that without telling me! I deserve to know–"

"There's no way to tell you if you keep going off by yourself, Charles, you aren't making a very good name for yourself–"

Miles didn't usually feel self-conscious or out of place, but even the horse was giving him weird looks here. The only one who didn't really care that he was there was Eloise. She gave him the creeps; he didn't know why. Something about her was… off. Familiar, though. Certainly not his-mom-in-the-caves level off, but something just bugged him about her.

And it wasn't that he didn't like attention, but god he was itching to get back hom–

The Barracks. The house in the Barracks. He corrected himself quickly. Yeah, he'd rather get stared at for drinking orange juice out of the carton and sleep on a rickety porch swing. And he missed bantering with people that he didn't have to worry about taking him hostage or interrogating him–well, not worry as much.

He was jerked out of his thoughts by a man running in from the far side of camp, panting. Nutmeg, sensing she was about to be needed, made a getaway between two tents as he rushed by.

Richard turned around to face him. "Aldo? What–"

"Van backfired right at the border; I think you should go see what's happening."

"What the bloody hell are they doing at the border at this time of night?" Charles looked at Richard, rather than Aldo for an answer. The advisor sighed and started stalking out of camp on Aldo's heels.

"I'll be right back, I'd advise you to come too, Miles," Miles' head jerked up as he realized he was being dragged into the drama. He didn't want to spend the night in camp, but he wasn't really up for more walking. Okay, he had to admit he was curious.

"Oh, so he gets to come?" Charles frowned, immediately stalking after them. He paused halfway out of camp, looking for Nutmeg, before giving up and pelting after them. Eloise, who seemed to follow Charles wherever he went, came last.

Aldo was the only one carrying a lit torch, not that any of the other Hostiles seemed to need it anyways. Miles would have moved closer to the light so as not to look like an idiot, but he felt awkward not being next to Richard, the only person he really knew here.

"Wanna tell me why I'm coming?" He panted.

"Just a hunch."

Right, back to vague and cryptic answers, ugh.

Miles would have been unsettled by how dark everything was, despite the moonlight up above, but it felt nowhere near the pitch-blackness he'd seen down in the tunnels. Richard was still slowing down for him, but he tried to pick up the pace a little. He really, really wanted to tell Juliet about the cave thing; hell, he'd tell Ford too, why not. They've probably fought and made up like ten times by now.

Even if he was surrounded by Dharma's–enemies? Rivals? Frenemies?–frenemies, the crunching of leaves and feeling of hot, but fresh air was far better than cold stone and droning silence.

Charles wasted no time reaching forward and snatching the torch from Aldo as a noise resonated from somewhere nearby. Miles thought it was a gunshot at first and prepared to duck and cover (or get shot, which was more likely), but none of the Hostiles seemed too concern. Richard snatched the torch from Charles and abruptly took the lead, heading toward the source of the noise.

Miles almost didn't notice the slope as it dropped from under his feet, but quickly recovered as to save himself from any further embarrassment. Curiosity overwhelming his tiredness, he followed the torchlight until he could see another light source–the headlights of a van. He could hear muffled voices as well.

"I didn't do anything that time!"

"That's why you don't all sit in one area in the back–"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know the van had feelings now–"

Oh, great, Phil, the last person he wanted to here. Then Horace, the second-to-last person he wanted to hear. And –wait, it couldn't be, could it?

"LaFleur?" Richard might as well have grabbed Miles by the hand and marched him up there like that, but instead he found himself tagging at his heels as they crested the slope onto the dirt road.

"I assume this is yours," Miles looked out from around Richard to see the ragtag group standing by the backfired van, all extremely surprised to see him.

"Yes, it is," Juliet was the first to respond, immediately looking relieved, "welcome back, Miles,"

Miles would have smiled if he hadn't caught himself at the last second. However, he was unable to stop himself from damn near running to meet the rest of his group. It was almost surreal, immediately being surrounded by people who were happy to see him–and even stranger that he felt ten times better surrounded by said people.

"So, we weren't fun enough to hang out with, eh?" Ford seemed happy to see him at least, giving him a pat on the back. Rather than be snippy about it, Miles decided to accept it without backlash.

"Yeah, yeah, just wanted to see some sights."

"Good! Good to have you back!" Kwon was probably the most outwardly glad to see him; Miles didn't really consider himself a likeable person–not that he cared what other people thought about him–but it was good to know people were excited to see him. Though come the next time he steals someone's food out of the fridge, they might be a little less happy.

"What happened to your arm? You have gravel all over you," Juliet, of course, was the first to notice the bandages, gently grabbing his arm and inspecting it in the low light. Not that he was jealous of Dan being babied when he was sick, but at least he got to have a turn in Juliet's doctor's office (also known as the spare bedroom.)

"Hey, it really is him! Miles, right? Glad to see you!" Oh, right, Horace. He pushed his way through the small crowd of castaways to beam at him. His gaze immediately turned to Richard, who was still standing at the treeline. While visibly startled, he tried to maintain his composure.

"Oh! Richard, um, nice to see you." He offered a half-hearted polite smile, which wasn't returned. Instead, Richard took a few steps forward.

"Thank you," Juliet smiled politely at him, but kept her distance. He seemed to respect it, giving a dip of his head.

"Of course," His attention turned to Miles, "Goodbye, Miles, be more careful in the future." Miles flushed slightly. As awkward as his trip was, nobody shot at him, and the food at their camp was surprisingly good. He wouldn't go down and see that monster for any amount of money, but he wouldn't mind getting 'lost' on their next patrol.

"Yeah, yeah, thanks." He watched as Richard disappeared as quickly as he arrived, thankfully taking Charles and Eloise with him. Horace's head snapped abruptly in his direction.

"D-Did they take you into their camp?" He asked quietly, "What did you see? Did you hear anything ? –"

"I think Miles would like a few moments to rest, at first," The unfamiliar voice startled Miles for a brief moment, looking up to see the labcoat-clad figure from which it came. Reading the name Pierre off the coat gave him such a visceral burst of anger in the pit of his stomach he almost forgot he injured.

God, the last thing he needed right now was to have his douche of a father try and be nice to him.

"I'm fine!" He snapped, a bit louder than he meant to, yanking his arm out of Juliet's grasp and forcing himself into the back of the van, not waiting to see his reaction. After a beat of silence, the rest of the group followed, talking among themselves.

"What did they do to you? Did they ask you any questions? –You didn't tell them anything, did you?"

"Drop it, Phil, he's obviously tired, can't we all just go back in peace?"

"If you want to find out that bad, we could always drop you off at the border so you could see for yourself,"

Miles leaned his head back against the wall of the van, letting the chatter fade into the jungle ambience. Yeah, they were annoying, but it felt familiar. Safe. He let himself drift on the edge of sleep the rest of the way back.

The Barracks were quiet and inactive at night, most people retiring to their small yellow bungalows shortly after dark. The only signs of life were the AC units humming steadily out of some units, and lamplight glowing in a few others. Green, leafy ferns and exotic flowers spilled out onto either side of the wide sidewalk that wound through the neighborhood. It narrowed, the concrete pooling into a small area where the back ends of three yardless houses met, making a kind of faux alley. A van sat at the very edge of a lamppost's warm glow, half in and half out of the grassy area off of the concrete.

Just within the view of the alley, a pair of figures walked into the light, heads close together as they stopped to talk.

Miles gently set down the can of beer where he sat on the bed of the van, legs dangling over the edge and just barely brushing the short grass below. He watched, intently, as one of the distant pair moved closer to the other, smiling up at him.

It was such a strong, but muted anger that built up in the pit of his stomach; watching the labcoat-clad man smile back at Lara–his mother–and touch her arm. He wondered if he could somehow get close enough to hear what they were saying, or if it would only upset him further.

Juliet sat next to him, a calm presence at his side.

"How long are you going to sit out here watching them?" She asked quietly, no hint of annoyance or criticism in her voice.

Miles flexed his fingers, curled them into fists, then let his hands relax at his side, gaze trained on his parents.

"Thinks he's some hotshot scientist–god, look at him touching her–" Normally he wouldn't let himself get so worked up over this, especially not in front of someone else, but Juliet felt different to him. He could feel her eyes on him, a steady presence; it made him stop and breathe.

"Be glad you don't know anyone here," he said, after a while.

"Don't jinx it," she replied coolly.

He could help but feel his heart rate pick up a little as Lara leaned in for a kiss; how did Pierre think he could treat her like this and still treat her like trash? Sure, they looked happy now–but Miles couldn't help but wonder when he'd see what his ma was talking about. He dug his nails into the bed of the van. He's gonna break her heart.

"You know it's only going to upset you more," Juliet's voice cool and concerned voice cut through his cloud of anger like a knife. He felt the distant urge to make some snappy comeback but didn't have the energy. She was right.

"I know," Miles murmured, picking up the can and swirling the dark liquid in it.

He tried to focus on anything else but his parents' footsteps on the pavement felt louder than anything else. He looked up just in time to see the couple walk out of view behind a house. There was a brief moment of silence as their voices and footsteps faded into nothingness. A cat, silhouetted in the lamplight, slunk quietly across the mouth of the alley; but otherwise, nothing moved.

Miles felt the aluminum crinkle slightly as his hand tensed, then relaxed. He put it down and put his head in his hands (or his good hand, rather.)

"You can't change anything. You know that," Juliet went on reproachfully. Miles took a moment to consider this.

"That only makes it worse. It's gonna happen no matter what I do," He spoke slowly, as if fully understanding the concept for the first time.

"So there's no point in trying; it's going to happen, you might as well just forget about it as much as possible." He wanted to lash out defensively, but he was far too tired to fight the comfort.

"I guess," for a moment, they sat in silence. He wondered if this was enough for him to leave over. Jungle living seemed boring at best, but he didn't know if he could handle being in close quarters with his dad. Maybe their paths wouldn't cross all that much, but he could only hope.

"Hey, I got a question for you,"

"Yeah?" She blinked at him calmly.

"So uh, if we know that the Others win the war and all the Dharma people die… why are we staying over here? Wouldn't we want to be on the winning side?"

She considered this; he could see her stiffen slightly as she thought.

"It's easier to get accepted here, and we have an easy way off the island if we need to make an escape. It's just… more advantageous to stay here for now. If things change, we can always move sides." She explained. Having a battle-hardened Other on their side was something to be glad about, Miles thought. Though, he felt a bit weird about her talking about groups and people as if they were parts of some kind of game.

"So, we stay where we can survive?" He echoed her words.

"Right." She seemed indifferent toward whatever allegiance the Dharma Initiative thought they had to them. Everyone –well, everyone except Phil–seemed to view them as one of their own. It was probably easier for her, not knowing anyone here.

"It's what I've always done here," she picked up her own can and looked into it, "Survive, I mean."

"You don't care about anyone here? We're not… one of them?" His question wasn't accusatory, but genuinely curious.

"Of course not," she replied bluntly, "We're among them, but not one of them. It's just more advantageous to be here. If we have to jump ship to survive, then so be it."

"Huh," he wasn't sure how to respond to that. It was… interesting. "Is that why you hooked up with the survivors and quit being an Other?"

"In a way, yes. It becomes less about who you want to see and where you want to go, and more about just… staying alive." She stared blankly into the distant pathways as she spoke. She seemed so set on leaving according to Ford, he almost wanted to ask why she'd stayed–but he was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

They sat there like that; drinking peacefully and staring out into the quiet night. Miles didn't feel his arm hurting anymore. Crickets chirped; a wild dog howled in the distance. It was quaint, the little neighborhood. Cheesy, sure, but it had its charm.

It really wasn't all that bad here.

❤ episode 4 – down the rabbit hole ❤
❤ synopsis - ❤
"On their first expedition to search for the rest of the crew, the shipwreckers break apart suddenly. Miles finds himself lost and separated from the group–and he's not alone."
❤centric character - miles ❤