A/N: I'm so sorry for exploding everything and making everyone sad in the last chapter. But I hope you keep enjoying the story anyway!
—-
We all begin with good intent. Love was raw and young
We believed that we could change ourselves, the past could be undone
But we carry on our backs the burden time always reveals
In the lonely light of morning, in the wound that would not heal
It's the bitter taste of losing everything that I've held so dear.
Sarah McLachlan, Fallen
—-
Chapter 28: Stranger in a Strange Land
When James awoke, his skin felt numb and his muscles ached from shivering. His dream remained imprinted on the backs of his eyelids, and he wondered what it meant this time. Had the note been from John? It had to have been. But hadn't Kate said that John was dead? He'd been having these dreams for a year and a half… John hadn't been dead that long. So where the hell had these dreams come from?
He stood, bracing himself against the wall, and looked around. He tried desperately to shove the unanswerable questions from his mind and focus solely on getting the hell out of there. (Part of him half-hoped Juliet would be lying on the ground beside him, and the other half was grateful she wasn't.)
His chest ached and his face remained sticky from tears. He couldn't believe he'd done that. He had such a confusing, painful feeling cutting into his chest - he'd saved her, he felt confident of that now - but at what cost? He'd destroyed her, and she'd made it clear she never wanted to see him again.
How could he be both right and wrong at the same damn time?
James closed his eyes, and pictured her beautiful face. She'd get her wish. He was trapped here on the island, with no way out… just like his dream had implied. He cursed, and kicked the pillar in the center of the room. His foot ricocheted off the rock, and he swore again.
As he hissed and hobbled, he remembered why he'd stayed behind to begin with. The wheel. Once he regained his balance, he inspected it, careful not to touch it, and found it steady and still. It glowed the same muted greenish blue color it had before. He felt no headache, and no strange energy was being emitted. It seemed, for all intents and purposes, that the wheel was intact. Time, he assumed, should be as well.
Suddenly, James began feeling increasingly claustrophobic. He looked around, orienting himself, when he discovered a ladder. A ladder that hadn't been there before. When he inspected it, he noticed one of the rungs was broken. Someone had been down here before.
James's heart began to race. This room… it had changed. Since he'd been unconscious, it looked different than it had before. Even in his dream, their house had looked different, too.
Which could only mean…
He scrambled up the ladder, careful to avoid the broken rung. It groaned under his weight, but when he was finally at the top, he reached a tunnel, and without hesitation crawled through it. His muscles were burning and aching, quivering with each movement. He felt like he'd been hit by a truck. But he knew he had to keep going. He had to get out of there, if he didn't want to freeze to death.
It didn't take long to reach the other side, and when he finally emerged, he knew for a fact he was in the Orchid. It looked astronomically different, but he knew where he was. And it was completed. He could have whooped in relief, but he wasn't sure his vocal chords would allow it.
He found the elevator right where it should be, and hoped and prayed the electricity still worked. It did, and he braced himself as the mechanism groaned and whirred, taking him higher and higher, to the island's surface.
They'd done it. They'd brought everyone back to their own time. He was sure of it. But they were still on the island… which meant whatever Jack was hoping to do to reset the timeline had failed. James still remembered the crash. He remembered everything. Which meant Desmond still hadn't pressed the button, and everything was the way it should be.
Whatever happened, happened.
As he rode up, he could feel his body coming back to life. Feeling began to return to his extremities, making his hands and feet tingle. He wiped his face with his shirt, and tried to focus on what would come next. He knew he needed a plan. He thought about heading back to the barracks, but if what he'd seen in his dream was true, he knew it would be deserted. He could go to the Swan site, but he didn't know how long he'd been unconscious for. They probably moved on.
Which left only one other option: the beach.
He almost laughed at the irony, and turned his head to the side to tell Juliet, only… Juliet wasn't there.
A pang of electric pain shot through his chest, and he felt sick to his stomach. He was going to have to do this without her. From now on, he was going to have to do everything without her. It felt unreal.
He took a shuddering gasp as the sunlight filtered into the elevator, and he wiped the fresh tears from his cheeks.
His anchor was gone. And now he was lost at sea.
—-
Juliet awoke with a gasp. Her whole body was shuddering, but it was no longer from the cold. Bright, hot sunshine beamed down on her skin, blinding her. She raised her hand to shield her eyes, and gulped down arid, desert air.
She raised her head slightly, looking around, confused and disoriented. She was on her back - in the desert. She wanted to scream, but her throat was too dry. Only a strangled wheeze escaped past her lips, and she scrambled up onto her hands as she finally took in her surroundings.
She was lying in the dirt in a vast, reddish tan desert. Mountains surrounded whatever valley she was in, and bronze colored poles jutted out of the ground nearby. She sat up fully, examining the poles. Attached to the one closest to her was a camera.
A very modern, high-tech looking camera. Which meant…
Juliet rocketed to her feet, kicking up dust. She swayed a moment, dizzy on her feet, before approaching the camera. She stared at it, her body in complete and utter shock, and it occurred to her that she had absolutely no idea why this camera was here. She was curious, but she was also wary. Was this set up by friend or foe? Had this been the same spot where Ben and John had ended up, when they left the island?
Where in the world was she?
Juliet began to panic. Renewed tears streamed down her face, cutting through the dirt. Her whole body ached, and she was petrified. She knew without a shadow of doubt that she was no longer on the island. James had been right - the wheel had worked.
James.
His name echoed in the caverns where her heart used to be. Her stomach clenched, as the last memories she had of him played like a movie in her mind.
He'd told her he wanted to be with Kate. He loved her, but she hadn't been enough for him. The hurt and betrayal burned unlike anything Juliet had ever felt before, and her broken, confused sobs echoed across the valley.
She wished she were dead. This pain was unimaginable. She felt like her entire world, her entire life had been ripped apart. She'd left her heart behind when she left the island, and there was nothing left inside her but a hollow, dark nothingness.
The camera beeped, pulling her out of her downward spiral. She watched it in wonder, as someone on the other end watched her.
Despite the heat, a chill crept up her spine.
She sniffed, wiped her face with her hands, and debated on what to do now. She could wait there and hope someone rescued her, or she could follow the poles, which carried wires to a point in the distance she couldn't see. More than likely they led somewhere, perhaps a town.
She looked around again, and saw nothing but desert. The only thing linking her to any modern society, or showing any sign of what direction to head in, were these poles. She wasn't certain anyone would be coming for her. And if they did… would they hurt her, or help her? She wasn't quite sure, but it was a risk she was going to have to take. The only other alternative would be to suffer from dehydration and exposure.
She swallowed thickly, already feeling parched. She didn't feel like she had much of a choice. She decided to follow the poles.
Keeping them on her right side, she began to walk. Everytime she thought about James, her stomach roiled, and she would begin to cry. But she was in the desert, and she couldn't afford to lose the hydration, which meant she had to do everything in her power not to think about him.
She sang songs in her head. She counted to one thousand. She tried to find shapes in the thick clouds above her head. Anything to keep the tidal wave of pain at bay.
Juliet walked for hours. Her feet were sore, and her body was failing. She felt dizzy and unstable, and she slowed more and more with each forward step. She soon crested a small hill, only to find she was still nowhere near town.
Perhaps she would get her wish after all. Perhaps she would die out here, and everything James had done to send her off the island would have been in vain.
No, she couldn't think about him. She couldn't, she couldn't, she couldn't.
The sky overhead was turning dark blue as the sun began to set behind a nearby mountain. It would be dark soon, and she was completely stranded with no food, no water, and no hope. Her legs felt like jelly beneath her, and she collapsed against the closest pole. She leaned her back against it, and pressed her forehead to her knees. Her breathing came in short, ragged pants as panic began to seep into her bloodstream.
But then she heard something. It sounded like a car, off in the distance. Her heart began to pound, making her hands shake. She couldn't stand. She was both too scared and too exhausted to move. Her head was heavy, but she was able to raise it and turn towards the noise. She saw headlights cutting through the darkness in the distance, and uncertainty made her feel frozen in place.
Should she run? But where would she go?
She was trembling by the time the car approached her. She raised herself up on unsteady legs, like a new baby deer, and stared hard at the open-top jeep that came to a stop in front of her. She kept her back pressed against the pole as three men jumped out of the jeep. They spoke in a language she didn't understand, and her eyes darted back and forth between them.
All three carried guns. Juliet's throat closed up, and she found it hard to breathe. She'd removed her gun out of her jeans earlier, before she'd been lowered down into the well. She was defenseless, and she knew they knew that.
One of the men approached her, the youngest of the three, and thrust a headscarf her way. He shouted something she didn't understand, and pushed the scarf into her hands. Juliet accepted it with uncertainty, but she was worldly enough to know they were probably asking her to wear it. Which meant, she was very likely in a Muslim country, probably somewhere in the Middle East or Africa.
She nodded vigorously, showing she understood, and wrapped the floral scarf around her hair. It wasn't perfect, but it was good enough. The men seemed satisfied, and pointed at the back of the jeep. They were careful not to touch her as she climbed inside, muscles screaming in protest. It reminded her of a different jeep ride, only a few hours ago. Had it really only been a few hours?
Once she was inside, two men sat in the back with her while the third man drove. They sped off, kicking up a plume of dust, and headed in the same direction she'd been walking. The closer they got, the more her anxiety began to ease. If they had wanted to hurt her, they would have done so by now. Perhaps. Probably. So, the fact that they hadn't… well, it brought her a modicum of peace.
They drove for about a half hour before Juliet finally started to see the outskirts of town. Small houses lined dirt roads, and lamps began flickering to life as the sun finally finished its descent. People stared as the jeep drove past, and Juliet could hardly blame them. A blonde American woman being driven in from the middle of nowhere? She'd be staring too.
They came to a stop outside a white stucco building with bars on the windows. It startled her, and her anxiety kicked back into gear. They shouted at her, probably telling her to get out, and then they ordered her inside. She followed blindly, eyes wide and tripping over her own feet from exhaustion.
They took her down the hallway to a small room with a twin bed. On it was a threadbare blanket and a lumpy pillow. The youngest, who'd given her the scarf, pointed to the bed.
Juliet clenched her fists to keep them from shaking. She didn't move. He pointed again, this time bringing his hands up to the side of his face, making a 'sleep' gesture. Juliet relaxed, if only barely, and cautiously approached the bed. She sat on it, feeling the weak springs give in under her weight, and the men left without another word. They closed the door with a final click, and Juliet was left alone.
She was stunned. And tired. So, so tired. She glanced down at the pillow. It looked clean enough. They hadn't hurt her, and they'd brought her to a bed in some kind of guarded facility. Even if she were to try and make a run for it, she knew she wouldn't get far. She had nowhere to go, and nothing in her possession other than the clothes on her back.
She unraveled the headscarf and laid it on the wooden nightstand. She took three deep, steadying breaths, and laid down on the bed. She stared up at the ceiling, wondering just what in the hell she was supposed to do now.
It didn't take long for her to succumb to a deep, dreamless sleep.
—-
When she at last awoke, it was hot and bright in her room. She was stiff from not moving, and groaned as she stretched her body out across the bed. A rich aroma tickled her nose, and she realized some kind of soup had been placed on her nightstand while she'd been sleeping. She jolted back, hyper aware of the fact that someone had been in her room.
The door was cracked, but otherwise she saw no one. She leaned forward to inspect the soup, and the smell of spices tingled her nose again. There was a spoon and a cloth napkin, and a tall glass of water.
Juliet was ravenous. They could have poisoned her and she might not have cared. She swung her legs over the bed, picked up the bowl, and began shoveling it into her mouth. It was delicious, and it wasn't long before she began to sweat from both the heat of the room and the chilis in the soup.
She was halfway done and chugging down the water when she heard her door creak open. It was a woman, short and slender, with a black headscarf and vibrant orange dress. She smiled politely at Juliet before letting herself inside the room. Juliet stopped eating, unsure of what the protocol would be in this situation, but the visitor merely motioned to her bowl, and said in clear, but accented English, "Eat."
Juliet obeyed, though at a much more unhurried pace. "Who are you?" she asked. Her throat was sore, and froggy from disuse.
"My name is Amina. I work at the inn across the street. What is your name?" Amina said, seemingly unphased by Juliet's arrival here.
"I - um. My name is Juliet."
Amina smiled. "Hello, Juliet. Welcome to Tunisia." She said it so casually, as if Juliet had just arrived. Which, she supposed she had, but how could Amina know that? And Tunisia? Had she not just lived it, she would have sworn this was impossible.
"Tunisia?" Juliet couldn't help but gasp, and placed her palm on her forehead. She was no closer to home than she'd been when she'd been on the island.
"Yes," Amina answered, and smiled at her. "My employer will be most interested to hear about your arrival."
"Your employer? The owner of the inn?" Juliet was confused. She set down her empty bowl and used the cloth napkin to wipe her lips. She couldn't even fathom how dirty she must be, but she didn't want to seem rude if she had broth all over her face.
Amina laughed at Juliet's question, and shook her head. "No, no. I work at the inn. This is true. But I work there because I am to report any newcomings of strangers to Mr. Widmore. He is most curious about who gets picked up in the desert."
Juliet's stomach soured. Widmore. Charles Widmore. The man that sent the freighter. The man who had tried to kill Ben. The man who, according to Locke, tried to take her hand.
"You… you work for Widmore?"
Amina's smile faded. "Do you know him?"
Juliet swallowed. This was too precarious. If Widmore found out she'd escaped, what would he do? Was Amina's job just to placate her until she got further instructions? Juliet decided to answer truthfully, but vaguely. "Not really, no."
This seemed to pacify Amina who nodded and gathered Juliet's dishes. "Very well. Please follow me. I will show you to your room."
Juliet nodded, and followed the other woman. "Those cameras… Are they Widmore's?" Juliet asked once they were back out into the open air.
"Oh yes. Mr. Widmore is most interested in that place. You are not the only visitor we have had."
She must mean Locke. And Ben. Widmore must know that's where the exit is, Juliet thought. She cleared her throat, and together they wove through a crowd of people. Once they were at the front steps of the inn, Juliet spoke up once more. "Amina?"
"Yes?"
"I know this may sound strange… But - can you tell me what year it is?"
Amina laughed, like it was indeed an odd question. "It is 2008, of course." She shook her head and continued to chuckle as she led a stunned Juliet down the hall.
2008. James had been right.
Rachel!
"Amina, is there a phone I can use?" Juliet asked urgently, hurrying to walk at her guide's side. Amina nodded, and she led Juliet to the room at the far end of the hall.
"Mr. Widmore has this suite on reserve, should anyone appear on his cameras. While you were sleeping I brought you some clothes. They should fit your size." Amina opened the door and led Juliet inside the room. It was small, but it had an attached bathroom with a single stall shower, toilet, and sink. The bed had a queen-sized mattress, with an intricately designed orange and red quilt on top. There was a small nightstand and a small dresser with her clothes stacked on top, but otherwise no additional furniture. On the nightstand was a telephone, and Juliet's heart began to thud out of her chest at the sight.
Tears stung her eyes. She was so close.
"How do I…?" Juliet began to ask, and found her throat was already closing at the prospect of calling her sister.
Amina nodded and let Juliet to the phone. She showed her how to dial the front desk, should she need anything, and how to dial internationally.
"I have no money," Juliet informed her, but Amina shook her head.
"Everything will be charged to Mr. Widmore. Meals will be available three times a day, just inform me when you are hungry and I can show you the way. I will be here until eight o'clock this evening."
Juliet sniffed, already knowing she would start crying the moment Amina left. This woman had been incredibly kind to her when she had absolutely nothing, and she almost didn't want her to leave. She was the only one so far who spoke English, and Juliet was terrified of becoming stranded again with no way to communicate with anyone.
"Thank you, Amina. For everything. I'd like you to pass along my thanks to Mr. Widmore too, please. When you speak with him." In spite of her earlier concern about Widmore knowing about her escape from the island, he was still paying for everything, and she knew she wouldn't survive without him doing so.
"I can do that, miss. Please enjoy your stay." Amina bowed her head briefly before leaving Juliet's room. As soon as the door clicked and an eerie silence descended upon the room, Juliet lost all control. She burst into tears.
Juliet lunged for the phone, not knowing or even caring about what she was going to say. She just needed to hear her sister's voice. She pressed the button combination Amina showed her, and dialed Rachel's number, praying to God it hadn't changed. She didn't know what time it was in Miami, either, but she hoped Rachel would answer.
The phone rang, and rang, and rang, until finally it went to voicemail. "You've reached Rachel and Julian Carlson," her cheery voice echoed in Juliet's ear. Juliet cried out when she heard it, and pressed her palm to her mouth. In the background of the away message, she heard Julian's tiny voice say, "Hiiii!" This made Juliet laugh. "You know what to do," Rachel concluded, and Juliet heard the beep.
She froze. She really should have planned this better. She swallowed and took a shaky breath before finally just letting her heart take over. "Rachel. Oh my God, Rachel, I can't believe I'm really calling you. Hopefully you still recognize my voice," she laughed, though she didn't think it was funny. "It's Juliet. Your favorite sister. I'm alive. I know… I know you might have thought I wasn't, and if you did, I don't blame you. But I'm alive. And I'm in Tunisia? It's a long story. I want to talk to you so bad. But I guess you're busy. But I promise - I promise - I will call you later, okay? And you better pick up when I do." Juliet hiccuped before adding, "I love you sis. I love you so much. Okay, bye."
She hung up the phone, and began to sob.
She cried because she missed Rachel. She cried because she missed James. She cried because she was alone in a foreign country, with no money, no belongings, no identification, and no hope. She cried because James had broken her heart into a million pieces and she, of course, never wanted to see him again.
She cried because she never would see him again.
An hour later, when every single tear had been shed, she decided to try and put herself together. She felt empty inside, but her survival instincts were kicked into overdrive. She stripped out of her clothes and took a lukewarm shower, though the faucet was turned up as high as it would go. She didn't have a hairbrush, so she braided her hair back instead. She changed into the clothes Amina had brought her - loose, flowy black pants and a long-sleeved red tunic - and washed her bra and underwear in the bathroom sink with a bar of soap.
After hanging them up to dry in the bathroom, Juliet retreated back to her bed. She sank down beneath the covers and finally let herself fade away.
—-
Shadows were being cast into Juliet's room through the blinds in the window when she finally came to. Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton and her eyes burned from where she'd been crying. She almost forgot where she was, but the familiar smells of spices permeated the room, reminding her she was in fact no longer on the island. (She wondered how long it would take for her to get used to that.)
She licked her lips. They were dry, so she decided to get some water from the bathroom sink. She found a cup, poured herself some water, and drank. When she was done, she realized she probably should have asked Amina about whether she should be drinking tap water, but inevitably decided that she didn't care. She went to the bathroom for the first time since being rescued from the island, and cringed at how dehydrated she must have been. She needed the water.
When she looked at the clock, she noticed it was almost nine at night. She'd slept right through dinner, but that was okay. She wasn't hungry anyway.
For a moment, she stared at the phone. She wanted to call Rachel again, but she didn't know what to say. She really should have considered what all she'd tell her, about where she'd been and why she hadn't been in contact, and she was kind of glad Rachel hadn't answered her phone the first time. It took several minutes of thinking before Juliet finally felt ready to call again, this time trying as hard as she could to keep herself together.
She dialed the number, and the phone rang only once before Rachel's desperate voice picked up on the other end. "Hello?" she answered, sounding almost out of breath.
All of Juliet's carefully crafted composure dissolved in a flood of tears. "Rachel?" she choked out, and then lost it.
Rachel started to cry as soon as Juliet did, and neither could say much more than the other's name, and "It's me." Juliet had probably never felt more relieved in her entire life.
"Rachel, I'm so sorry," Juliet cried, and she heard Rachel blowing her nose on the other end of the line.
"How?! How is this possible?"
Juliet swallowed and wiped her face on her sleeves. "Those men, that job… they weren't telling the full truth."
"No kidding! They said six months and they kept you for over six years! What happened?"
She knew Rachel would ask this. She closed her eyes, squeezing more hot tears down her cheeks. (How much could one person cry in 24 hours? Was she going to break the world record?) "It's been a lot… I guess I'll just start from the beginning."
"Yeah, I wanna know everything."
Juliet inhaled deeply, and began to tell her what she could. "The job they wanted me to do, the pregnancy problem… that was real. But it wasn't out of Portland. They took me to this island, out in the middle of the Pacific. They had a small community of people living there, and Richard was right - the women… they were dying, usually at the start of the second trimester."
"An island? Juliet, why would they tell you they were taking you to Portland if it was really an island?"
Juliet shook her head, even though she knew Rachel couldn't see her. "Because. The island is a secret. I shouldn't even be telling you, but…"
"I want to know," Rachel said, her tone insistent.
"I know you do. And I'll tell you, but I need you to promise me, Rachel."
"Promise what?"
"Promise me you won't tell another soul about this. I left people behind, people I care about - " Juliet choked on the words. "And I need to know they'll be safe. Do you promise?"
Rachel was quiet on the other line. Juliet started to wonder if the call dropped, but then Rachel finally said, "But they kidnapped you, Jules. We need to report this!"
Jules. She knew Rachel called her that, but she hadn't heard it coming from her in such a long time. The only other person to call her that was James.
Her heart skidded in her chest - an almost painful change in rhythm. "Rachel, please. I need you to promise."
Rachel sighed. "Okay, okay. I promise. This is crazy, you know that?"
Juliet twisted her lips in a wistful smile. "You don't even know the half of it."
"Tell me. I want to know."
"I couldn't… I couldn't save them, Rach. Everything I tried - none of it worked. The ones who recruited me, they were getting impatient. I did my job as best I could, but nothing was helping. And when it was time for me to leave, I told them I'd leave my notes behind and whoever took over for me could have a crack at it. I told them I'd hit my limit but… they wouldn't let me leave."
"Why not? They asked for six months and you gave it to them!"
"I know, I know. But the leader of the group… it wasn't Richard. It was a man named Ben. He… I…" She trailed off. How could she possibly sum up Ben and his obsessiveness? How could she convey the toxic way in which he treated her, manipulated her?
She got goosebumps just thinking about it.
"He was in love with me, I guess. He said I needed to stay until the job was done. There were no phones, nothing. I had no way to communicate with you. I was stranded, with no hope of ever getting home." Juliet began to cry again, and pressed her face into her pillow. "I just wanted to come home, Rachel. I'm so sorry. You had to give birth all alone."
"Honey, stop. It's not your fault. You were basically kidnapped! And you're crazy for making me promise not to tell anyone! This is beyond illegal. We need to track him down and press charges!"
"We can't. I escaped the island but I don't know where it is. And it doesn't matter, it really doesn't. What's done is done."
"Look, I know we have a lot of catching up to do, and as much as I want to do it all tonight, I know that's not gonna happen." Her voice was tender and supportive, and Juliet soaked it in. It had been so long since her sister could comfort her, and she found herself curling into a tighter ball as she listened. "I've already made arrangements to bring - Oh fuck. Juliet, I'm so sorry. I forgot to tell you. I have a son."
Juliet sniffed and laughed. "I know. I heard on the voicemail." She didn't mention the fact that Ben had shown her a video of them three years ago. It would just add to Rachel's confusion.
"I named him after you, you know," Rachel added, and Juliet could hear her voice crack.
"I know."
Rachel sniffed and cleared her throat before continuing. "I - I made arrangements, with Beth. You remember Beth right?" Beth had been Rachel's closest friend for over 20 years now.
"Yeah, I remember."
"Beth is going to keep Julian for as long as it takes. I'm coming to you, and I'm going to bring you home."
Juliet's heart raced in excitement. "Oh, Rachel, you don't have to do that. I'm sure it's expensive - " she said, but Rachel cut her off.
"No. You're not talking me out of this. You are stranded in freakin' Tunisia with no money, and I assume no passport - so you need me. I'm coming. I just dropped Julian off. I'm packing right now, and then I'm headed to the airport. I… I put your stuff in storage, about a year after your disappearance. I'm going to swing by and grab you some clothes and pack you an extra suitcase. I think your passport is still in there, so I'll be sure to grab that too. I just hope it's not expired. But whatever - if it is, we can go to the embassy or something."
Juliet didn't know what to say. Her chest burned with love for her sister, and despite being worried about her traveling here alone, Juliet couldn't deny how happy she was that Rachel was coming.
She eyed the pad of paper on the nightstand and gave Rachel the name of the inn. Rachel wrote it down, and said she would figure out how to call her if she needed anything. In return, she gave Juliet the number to her cell phone. Once she left for the storage unit, she wouldn't be coming back to the apartment.
"Before I go, I just have one more question. Well, not actually, because really I have a million fucking questions, but the one I need to know before I go is… how the hell did you escape an island?"
Juliet squeezed her eyes shut, trying desperately to ignore the ice pick Rachel just stabbed through her heart. "I can't talk about that right now," she whispered, hating how pathetic it sounded.
Luckily, it seemed that Rachel understood. "Oh honey, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry you went through this. Fuuuck, okay, I need to go before I start crying again. I love you, I love you, I love you, baby sister. I'm coming, okay? I promise, I'm coming for you, okay?"
Juliet nodded, and murmured, "Mmmhmm."
"Just hold on til I get there, okay?"
"Okay. And Rach?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you too. So, so much."
Rachel inhaled sharply. "I know you do. Okay, no more crying. It's going to be okay. I'm coming."
Before she hung up the phone, Juliet cradled the receiver to her chest, wishing she didn't have to wait. Rachel couldn't get there fast enough.
—-
Juliet fell asleep shortly after eleven, and found herself having intensely vivid, realistic dreams. She was with James, and they were happy, living their lives on the island. She woke up and automatically put her arm out to feel for him, but he wasn't there.
Of course he wasn't.
Juliet realized she'd hit her limit. She had no more tears left to cry. She laid awake thinking of him until sunrise, with a profound, unfillable hole in her chest.
—-
By the time her stomach finally growled after almost 24 hours of not eating, Juliet had decided she definitely hated James. She'd been lying in bed for hours, just staring at the ceiling, replaying the last few days over and over and over again in as much detail as she could remember.
She was scared, and alone, and it was all his fault. Sure, he'd gotten her off the island, but she hadn't asked him to. Was she glad to have finally talked with Rachel after all this time? Of course. But in many ways, despite herself, the island had become her home. He had been her home. And now she was just supposed to live without him? How the hell was she supposed to do that?
Her body ached as she rose from the bed. She'd been still too long, and now she was stiff. She went to the bathroom, drank a cup of water, and slipped on her finally dried underwear and bra underneath her clothes. She tried retracing her steps to the front of the inn, and after only getting turned around twice, she finally found Amina, who greeted her with a large smile.
"Hello! Miss Juliet, you are finally awake."
"Yeah, it's been… it's been a rough few days," was all Juliet could manage to say. The energy it had taken her to come this far was draining, and she was already ready to go back to bed.
"Oh, but of course. You have journeyed a long way. Come, I will show you where you can get your meals."
Amina led Juliet to a small dining room down near her room. That must have been why she'd woken up to such strong smells. She was located near the kitchen.
"Here is where you can pick up what is being served each day," Amina said, and showed Juliet the counter, where one of the young men who'd picked her up was cooking in the back. Amina spoke with him briefly, speaking quickly and gesturing to Juliet. He gave her a dirty look. It was then she realized she'd forgotten her headscarf. She needed to try and be better about wearing it.
"Tell him I'm sorry I forgot," Juliet said, and self-consciously twiddled with the ends of her blonde hair.
Amina shook her head. "Please pay him no mind. My brother is simply not too fond of the ways of Western culture. You may dress as you please."
Juliet nodded her thanks, and accepted the bowl of stew Amina handed her. "Thank you. Can I - can I take it back to the room?"
"Of course," Amina nodded. "Dishes can be returned here," she said, and pointed out the receptacle at the end of the long counter. "Should you need anything else, please let me know."
Juliet nodded, and suddenly a question sprang to mind. She wasn't quite sure she wanted to know the answer, but she knew if she didn't ask, the question would simply nag the back of her mind. "Have you talked to - I mean, were you able to speak with Mr. Widmore?" Juliet asked, and grabbed a spoon from the wicker basket of utensils.
Amina shook her head and frowned. "No. I was not able to get in touch with him. Though, he is a very busy man. I am sure I will hear from him soon." Once more, Juliet nodded her understanding and excused herself back to her room, leaving Amina and her brother to chat away in their native tongue.
When she got back to her room, she sat on her bed, cradling the warm bowl of stew in her hands. She ate a few bites, wondering how in the world something could be so delicious, when suddenly she felt her body change course.
She found she was no longer hungry, and it took her a moment to understand why.
She thought back to her first couple months in 1974 (the second time). She'd felt alone, and stranded, and severely depressed. She'd drink every day, hoping to numb the ache that existed deep inside her. Some days, she got to the point where she felt so numb, she couldn't force down anything at all. She'd pretend to be normal, and pretend to take care of herself, but none of it had felt right. Food tasted like nothing and she found herself unable to stomach things she used to love. It wasn't until James had called her out on it that she'd realized what she'd been doing.
He'd snapped her out of her funk, and told her that she was worth something, and that she was wanted. He hadn't treated her delicately; he'd given it to her straight. He'd saved her, she thought, in more ways than one.
But he wasn't here now.
She left her stew half eaten on her nightstand and crawled back into bed.
—-
The next morning, Juliet awoke to a knock on the door. Through tired, heavy eyes, she squinted at her nightstand. The clock read that it was just after eight in the morning.
She groaned and rose from the bed, assuming it would be Amina. She rubbed her face as she walked leisurely to the door, and when she opened it, she found it was not Amina on the other side.
It was Rachel.
Juliet was stunned. She heard Rachel say she was coming, but it was as if the words hadn't fully registered in her brain. She stood there, swaying on her feet, as Rachel barreled into her, knocking the air from her lungs. She picked her jaw up off the floor and wrapped her shaking arms around her sister in return, holding her tight.
It wasn't long before they both began to cry once more, unwilling to let go. Rachel was here and she was healthy. She'd let her brown hair grow out, though she'd had highlights put in. She was plumper than Juliet remembered, and it made her incredibly relieved to see it. Rachel was no longer frail from the cancer treatments - she was whole, and alive, and here.
She really had come for her after all.