Forgiveness
A/N: I'm sooo glad to come back to writing after a few weeks off. I had a medical emergency unfortunately, but I'm doing better. I just wanted to get this idea out of my head before heading back to my other fic. :) This takes place after season six, but it's AU because Juliet never died. She got injured, but lived. All of season 6 plays out exactly as it did, but she makes it off the island too. If I could combine the words angst and fluff into one word, that would be this. Flangst? Let's go with that. Hope you enjoy!
—-
James could tell she was nervous by the way her hands shook as she held the menu. Her long fingers held the laminated pages with a vice grip. Her eyes were wide and uncertain as they reviewed its contents, which was unnerving because as far back as James could remember, Juliet acted certain of everything. Even when she wasn't, she rarely let it show.
Now, lit by the fluorescent lights of the mostly-vacant diner, James finally noticed how pale and scared she looked. It was vastly different from the determined confidence she'd shown as they escaped the island. Then, she'd acted without thinking and remained resourceful and clearheaded, even when they hadn't eaten or slept. She'd remained unemotional, almost tactical, impressing James thoroughly even though he'd never admit it to her. Even with her injuries from the blast, Juliet had been strong and resilient and hadn't let her emotions get the better of her, even once.
But it was like as soon as they'd walked in, and the greasy smell of burgers and fried potatoes had assailed their senses, she'd climbed so far into her shell, she may as well have transformed into a ghost. James couldn't say he blamed her. This was her first brush with the real world in over six years.
"You alright?" he murmured, breaking the tense silence. Her eyes flicked up from her menu. He couldn't read whatever emotion lay beyond her brilliant blue eyes. She'd gotten good at that, hiding from him, ever since their fight over Kate.
"I'm fine," she responded, flatly and unconvincingly. As expected. She swallowed as she scanned her menu, and James tried again.
"Wanna talk about it?"
Juliet sighed, and put down her menu. James didn't even bother reading over his. He knew what he wanted - in more ways than one.
"There's nothing to talk about," Juliet stated. She pinned him with an icy stare.
"We just survived time-travelin' on Death Island. Flew off the thing in a rickety ole bucket of bolts held together with duct tape. There's lots to talk about."
She scoffed under her breath. "What more is there to say?" She wasn't talking about their unlikely escape.
"How's about we talk about what's next?" he offered, and took a long sip of his water the server had brought.
He could see Juliet tense. Her shoulders curved inward, and her eyes flicked down to the table. She placed her hands in her lap and James knew he'd hit a nerve. But he was so fucking tired of not having this conversation. It had been a week. They were going to have to talk sometime. Why not when they were stranded in a random diner in Oregon at midnight? After all, neither of them had anywhere to go.
"I don't know what you want me to say," she whispered after a minute, and took to drinking her water too. Her neck turned pink, signaling her discomfort. But James didn't care. She'd been avoiding this conversation - avoiding him - for far too long.
"I want you to tell me what ya want. I wanna know what I did wrong and why you won't fucking talk to me," he hissed, his anger bubbling to the surface.
"Alrighty folks. Have enough time with the menu?" The server, a stout, middle-aged, curly-haired woman with a name tag that read 'Linda,' approached their table, effectively cutting James off, and giving Juliet a welcomed reprieve.
They both looked up at her, at a loss for words. Linda waited patiently until Juliet finally cleared her throat and politely ordered their signature breakfast platter of pancakes, eggs, and bacon. James, less politely, ordered a burger and fries.
As Linda collected their menus, Juliet rose from the table. She dropped her brown Dharma-issued coat into the booth and headed towards the bathrooms. James ran his hands up and down his face, trying to scrub away his frustration. Desperation soured his stomach. This was not going well.
—-
Juliet didn't understand why Richard insisted they drug themselves yet again for this submarine trip. Someone had to drive the thing, and they didn't need sedatives. So why must all its passengers? The thought irritated her, but she willingly drank the juice that was handed to her (she really needed to stop doing that) and found her body almost immediately growing heavy.
As they descended, she flashed back to how it felt, rising from the runway. Going up, or going down, it didn't matter. The tense feeling in her stomach was the same.
She'd looked out over the island, watching the terrain grow smaller and smaller. The trees looked like bushes, the rivers like blue lines etched into the green. It took her a while to realize that the tightness in her belly wasn't fear of heights, or a result of the change in elevation, or even distrust in the structural integrity of the plane. It was just pure, inexplicable pain. And sadness. She was leaving behind what had effectively served as her home for over six years, and she would never see it again. She had no idea why her body cared so much. Why it grieved. She thought she'd be relieved to leave it all behind, but perhaps she'd been wrong.
The flight was bumpy and fraught with nervous energy as its few passengers held onto the seat backs for dear life. After two hours of waiting on pins and needles, Frank landed them in Tahiti. Richard had insisted on the small island nation being their destination. Apparently, the only remaining Dharma submarine was docked there and it was the only thing Richard could think of, to sneak back into American waters. It was what Ben used once upon a time, when he made more frequent excursions to the States, and therefore it had some kind of technology that allowed it to remain under the radar (literally and figuratively).
The shuffle from plane to submarine had been quick, rushed stealthily in the cover of darkness. Thankful to have survived the rocky trip, Juliet barely had time to be happy about being on solid ground again before being forced down into the small hole of the sub. Everyone was corralled and juice was shoved into their hands, and no one had time to argue before the vessel was sinking beneath the waves, covertly avoiding any unwanted attention for its many stowaways.
She supposed she should be grateful that she would finally get some rest. They'd been living off adrenaline and fear for days now, barely sleeping, barely eating, and always on the run from danger. But given how their last excursion on a submarine went, she was surprised no one else seemed more freaked out by their close quarters.
Everyone seemed numb, in a state of pure shock. She herself felt devoid of anything other than disbelief. They'd actually made it off the island. After over six years of imprisonment (it didn't matter that three of those had arguably been the best years of her life), she was finally free. But the plane being stuck together with duct tape and high hopes kept her on edge, and there had been little time to celebrate the fact that she'd finally achieved the goal she'd never thought she'd see come to fruition. With every dip and dive, everyone had held their breath, unable to speak, and that kind of adrenaline didn't wear off easily.
And now here she was. Eyes closed, and buckled into yet another submarine bunk. The last few days flashed before her mind like a sick movie reel, showing her terrors she long wished to forget. Her body still ached and her cuts and bruises had yet to fully heal, but she was alive. Somehow, through the most impossible of odds, she was alive.
And so was James. They'd barely spoken the last few days, but her heart still loved him, despite everything. And though thinking of him hurt almost as badly as her body had after the explosion, her last thought before sinking steadily into blissful oblivion was that she was glad he was nearby.
—-
Juliet returned from the bathroom, refusing to meet James's eyes. She'd been grateful for the server's timing, as it had given her the excuse she needed to leave the table. She'd used the bathroom even though she didn't really need to go, and thoroughly scrubbed her hands and face in the bathroom sink. On the way back, she'd searched for a payphone, but didn't find one. It was probably for the best - she didn't want her first conversation with Rachel in six years to be held with a time limit in a public place. She had waited this long - she could wait a little bit longer.
A thousand thoughts were whirling around in her head, and for the third time since arriving, she asked herself what the hell she was doing here. James had asked her to come with him. That was the simple answer. But that wasn't really the point. All week she'd felt so conflicted and pained every time she looked at him. Now here she was, alone with him for the first time in days, and she couldn't even look at him.
They sat in relative silence, the only sounds were the clanging of pots and pans echoing from out of the kitchen window. There was only one other patron, an older man, sitting at the counter talking with Linda. Juliet found herself watching them, enraptured with the concept of seeing strangers, once again, who had no ties to the island. It still felt weird to her.
"Juliet," James started, and Juliet felt herself flinch at her name. Usually, her name coming from his mouth melted her bones and set her heart on fire. Now… she didn't know what this new feeling was. 'Sadness' felt too simple of a word.
"We don't have to talk, James."
He sighed; defeated. "Whatever you say." She watched as he pulled the black plastic container of assorted jellies towards him. He dumped out the contents and started stacking the various individual flavors into a pyramid. When it would get too tall, it would topple over, but James would just pick them up and restack them, placing them slightly further apart to give more structural support to the jellies on top. She watched him repeat the action over and over again, and before she knew it, their food had arrived.
"Breakfast for the missus," Linda said, and placed the hot plate in front of Juliet. Her mouth immediately began to water. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten - let alone a full meal (let alone a hot breakfast!) - and she was starving. She saw the same look cloud over James's face as he peered down into his burger. He started picking it up before Linda had fully set the plate on the table. "Just let me know if ya need anything else," she said, and gave them both curious looks before going back to talk with the guy at the counter.
Juliet shoved an entire piece of bacon into her mouth. The groan that erupted was completely out of her control, and completely embarrassing. James chewed his burger with a fat, snarky grin on his face, and Juliet rolled her eyes before shoving the second piece into her mouth, not even finished with chewing the first.
"Been a while since I heard that," he commented after he swallowed, and took another huge bite.
Without thinking, Juliet retorted with a snort, "And whose fault is that?" They both fell silent. James set down his burger. Juliet tried to play it cool by dousing her pancakes in syrup, but she'd fucked up. She knew it. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that."
"Didn't mean to say it, or didn't mean it?" he asked, and shoved some fries in his mouth. He stared at her hard.
That was certainly a good question, Juliet thought. Her mind was a mess right now. She didn't know anything. She'd been running for her life for a week - she hadn't really had much time to sit and analyze her love life. Nor did she think she would have to, if she were being honest. She didn't think she (or any of them, really) would live long enough for it to matter.
Regardless, she felt like she'd been pretty clear with him in the jungle. She refused to come second, and it had been plain as day to her that he still loved Kate. She meant what she said about some people just not being meant to be together, and in the days that followed, they'd hardly touched, hardly talked, and as painful as it had been, Juliet was at least able to compartmentalize it all because they'd been in pure survival mode.
Until now. Now… It was hard to see with a clear head. After all, he was here with her. Not with Kate. He'd asked her to come with him. And she didn't know what that meant, or what she wanted it to mean.
—-
James awoke with a headache, and his ears felt full and pained. He stretched his jaw and swallowed a couple times, clearing them. He wiped the crust away from his eyes, and finally pried them open long enough to take in his surroundings. They were still on the submarine. People were milling about, and though he felt dizzy and his throat was killing him, he rose too.
Richard was talking with Frank in low tones. They were rifling through storage boxes and pulling out old, dusty brown coats emblazoned with the Dharma logo. James couldn't help but cringe. He honestly never thought he'd see that logo again.
"Where are we?" Kate asked, rubbing the back of her neck in discomfort. She was closest to Richard, but her voice carried in the small space.
"Oregon," Richard answered, and James's stomach twisted with excitement. They were back in the United States.
"How?" Claire exclaimed, and looked alarmingly at Kate.
Richard sighed, clearly frustrated. "It's one of the ports we have access to. That's all you need to know. We're near Portland." James followed Richard's gaze to Juliet, who seemed to shrink into herself at the news. "Look, we don't have a lot of supplies on board. We have some food, some money, and these coats but that's about it. Once you leave the sub, you're on your own."
Kate pulled Claire into her side, and started speaking to her quickly, but in low tones. James couldn't hear them. Miles asked Richard if he had a phone. He did not. While everyone bickered and fretted about what they were going to do next, James watched Juliet. She sat down on one of the bunks, seemingly in shock.
After he got his share of the money from Richard, he offered to bring Juliet hers. Richard eyed him warily, but agreed, and kept a careful eye on him as he wormed his way through the tight space to where she was sitting. It made him feel sick, to think that Richard thought so lowly of him, that he'd somehow steal Juliet's share, but he couldn't blame him. Richard didn't know them or know what they had together. Had… or have?
"Here's your share," James said, and handed her the wad of cash. She looked up at him, confused, but took the money and without hesitation, shoved it down into her bra.
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it." He flashed her the award-winning dimples, but she didn't react. He hated how awkward things had become between them. But more than that, he hated himself for not trying harder to mend things before now.
There was a commotion on the other side of the small room, and James realized everyone was piling out of the sub. He was going to reach out his hand to help Juliet stand, but she was already ahead of him, moving towards the exit.
When they emerged, they all donned their coats and began saying goodbye. The crisp, winter air hit his face like a mack truck. It felt surreal, being cold, and he almost relished in it. But before he could fully appreciate the change in climate, Kate was hugging him tightly, wishing him luck. She and Claire were going to head to the bus station and book a ticket to her home in L.A. She didn't invite him to come along, and even if she did, he wouldn't go. He kissed her cheek, wished her luck, and tried not to think of Jack as she wiped her eyes and took Claire's hand. They walked off into the night without another glance.
James turned to head off the dock and looked around wildly for Juliet. She was hugging Miles with a fierce intensity. He approached them, and when Juliet was done, he took his turn patting his friend heavily on the back.
From her coat pocket, Juliet withdrew a pen and wrote a phone number on Miles's forearm. "Promise you'll call?" she asked, and Miles nodded. There wasn't a trace of sarcasm or indifference in his face.
"I'll call. But I'll wait a bit, so you'll actually be there when I do." Ah. So the number was Rachel's.
"You better." Juliet hugged him one last time, and Miles ruffled her hair before turning and heading in the same direction as Kate and Claire, bound for the bus station, and undoubtedly L.A.
James knew this was his last shot. She had money, and the potential to be lost to him forever. His stomach felt sour and nauseous as he placed a gentle hand on her arm, drawing her attention back to him rather than a retreating Miles. "Better odds of survivin' if we stick together," he offered, his voice flowery and more like Sawyer than he'd intended. She must have noticed, because her eyes narrowed and he could almost feel her walls shoot up to the sky.
He tried to backtrack. "What I mean is… why don't we stick together, at least for now? We can go grab some grub, make a plan." He knew he sounded more genuine this time, and he was glad for that. He was genuine - genuinely desperate for her to say yes. He watched her expression change as she processed his invitation. He was almost certain she was going to turn him down, but she surprised him.
"Okay," she relented. And he didn't press her further. They walked around a few blocks until they found the diner, and their stomachs growled simultaneously at the discovery.
—-
And whose fault is that? she'd said. James swallowed his fries and stared hard into her face. The statement had caught him off guard. He was still waiting for her to answer his question. Despite being ravenous, he didn't touch his burger.
He felt indignant. Whose fault was it indeed? Yeah, he'd 'looked' at Kate or whatever that meant. But he'd apologized and assured her in every way he knew how (besides the one he dared not try) that he loved her, not Kate. But she'd shrugged him off and ignored him and pushed him away instead of explaining why she was so angry.
He may have been the one to make some kind of mistake (one he still barely recalled, it was so insignificant) but she'd been the one to push him away. She'd been the one to decide to put this seemingly insurmountable wall between them.
James had had enough. He couldn't sit back and watch her bite her lip and avoid eye contact. She made up every fiber of him that made him worth something, and he couldn't just sit back and let her throw away everything they had without at least trying to fight for it. He would never forgive himself. Before, while they fought for their lives, he had an 'out' - an excuse to avoid the conflict (all while hoping she came to her senses). He didn't have one now.
"What do I need to do?" he almost begged.
"I don't know what you mean…"
"What do I gotta do? To prove that you were wrong about all that stuff you said?"
Juliet blanched. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out at first. Then, she licked her lips and replied, "I know what I saw, James."
"You saw what you wanted to see."
Juliet scoffed. "You think I wanted to see you – " But she stopped herself. She could feel the hysteria rising in her belly. Now was not the place or the time for this conversation. "Forget it…"
James grit his teeth. "Dammit Juliet. I need you to listen to me. You may not wanna talk to me, and I can't make ya. But you sure as hell're gonna listen," he murmured across the table. He dipped his head low, attempting to meet her eyes across the table. "I love you. I've loved you for three goddamn years. I know you think everything went to hell in a handbasket when the gang showed back up, and you're right. It did. But not cuz 'a Kate."
Juliet's eyes flashed at her name, and James knew he had her. She was listening. He flicked his gaze quickly over to Linda, who was still captivated with her own conversation, and her own midnight visitor. Which meant she wasn't listening to theirs.
"I don't get what I did to make ya mad. But I can tell ya right now - she ain't the one I'm sittin' here with. In case ya missed it, she went right off to go back to L.A. and didn't ask me to tag along. So she don't want me, neither. I asked you to stay with me. You. Ain't that enough?" He searched her face for a reaction, but saw nothing but her pristine walls. "So whatever ya think ya know, ya don't. And we're outta time. We need to figure this shit out now - together - cuz we're on our own, Blondie."
Juliet's chest burned with shame. All week long, she'd been pushing him away because she knew what she saw. People don't always realize the truths they wear on their face or in their voice, and she just assumed the truths she saw playing out in a look here, a touch there - he and Kate must not realize how they feel about one another yet. She thought she was doing him a favor. She really thought once (if) they got off the island, he'd see.
"You should have gone with her, James," Juliet whispered, and James's stomach bottomed out.
"The hell do you mean?"
"I mean - I don't know why you asked me to stay." The double meaning was not lost on either of them.
Suddenly James's heart sped up, and he began to feel his anger rising once more. "I don't know what kinda mental block you stuck up in that head 'a yours, but I've said six ways from Sunday why."
Juliet inhaled a shaky breath and finally met his gaze. There was pain there. There was no denying it. But it didn't change how conflicted she felt. She'd spent every free ounce of mental energy over the last week convincing herself that his love for her wasn't real - that everything she thought they had had been a mirage. She told herself over and over as she fell asleep each night that she should be happy that he finally found his beloved Freckles again, and that as long as he was happy, that she'd be happy for him. It had all been a lie, of course, but that intense level of mental reprogramming was hard to undo.
His green eyes were burning intensely into hers. His resolve was unchanged. "What do we do now?" she asked in a small, unsure voice. She couldn't talk about 'them' anymore. Not now. She was too confused, and her skin felt almost raw from the way he was looking at her. She should be grateful - he'd just declared his love for her - but like her newfound reality, she wasn't sure she could trust it. After all, it was too good to be true.
He finally broke away, and resumed eating his meal after a beat. She followed suit, if only because it gave her something to do. "I don't rightly know," James sighed, and it scared her. He always had a plan.
"How much money do we have?" Juliet asked before sipping her water.
James shrugged. "I didn't count it. Couple hundred maybe?"
"We need a place to sleep for the night. We need time to regroup."
"One room's cheaper'n two," James chortled, appreciating the flash of pink on Juliet's cheeks.
Juliet almost argued, but he had a point. If he only had a couple hundred, then she did too. She didn't know what the going rate for a motel was these days, but she also needed to buy a bus ticket to Miami, which would likely cost a fortune. That, plus the cost of food? She would be lucky to make it to Miami without asking Rachel to meet her halfway.
"Two beds," she insisted in response, and James frowned, but nodded. At least she'd agreed. "I want to call Rachel when we check in… I know it's late, but I can't wait anymore."
James swallowed the last bite of his burger and nodded his understanding. "Don't blame ya. If I was her, I'd wanna hear from ya right away. Time don't matter." He wanted to take her hand from across the table, but he refrained. An action that would have been second nature to him a week ago now brought him pause, and unease. He fucking hated this.
"Yeah," Juliet sighed, and took the last bite of her eggs. She chewed thoughtfully, lost somewhere in her own head. "Where will you go tomorrow?" The question slipped from her lips before she could fully process what she wanted to say. She'd wanted to be more tactful, but it came out sad and regretful, like she assumed it would be their final goodbye.
James barked a sardonic laugh before shaking his head in disbelief. "I know we've fought before, Juliet, but Christ Almighty. I go where you go. Thought I made myself clear."
She eyed him reproachfully, but nodded in stunned acceptance. Part of her still felt like all of this was too good to be true, but she needed to try and place her trust in him again. "Bus or train?" she asked, back to strategizing.
"Neither," James said, and flashed a quick look to Linda once more. "We drive."
"We can't rent a car. We don't have licenses."
"Didn't say we were gonna rent one…"
Juliet sucked in a breath. "James! Absolutely not!"
"What? Hot-wirin's easy. We can switch cars from time to time, won't have to pay gas. Easier that way to stay under the radar."
Juliet shook her head in bemusement. He was grinning at her. She couldn't tell if he was joking or not. "No. That's not who you are anymore."
"Say it a little louder for the people in the back," he said. Meaning her. The look he gave her pierced right through her. She shuddered from the intensity, and the shame. Logically she knew now she'd been wrong, but it didn't erase the hurt she'd felt all week. It was going to take time, moving past whatever this was. They were still broken up - weren't they?
"I can ask Rachel to wire us some money?" Juliet offered. James finished his fries.
"No IDs, remember?"
Juliet nodded. She forgot how this all worked. "I guess we can decide in the morning," she relented, and rubbed her hand across her aching eyes. She was exhausted, but more than a little relieved she wasn't doing this alone. Though she didn't quite know what to make of their current situation, she loved him, she knew that, and his company brought her comfort.
This whole situation of being stranded in Oregon with little money and just the clothes on her back made her feel both trapped and strangely free. She was finally away from the island, but they weren't out of the woods yet. In a lot of ways, she was still in survival mode. She would be, until she made it to Miami, and God only knew when that would be.
James flagged down Linda. He paid their bill without discussion, and Juliet made a mental note to give him some of her money later. Linda gave them directions to a motel a few blocks away, and they set off to rent a room.
They walked closely together, huddled against the cold. James wanted to put his arm around her, but thought better of it. They said nothing, both focusing on using their last remaining energy to put one foot in front of the other.
When they arrived at the motel, James spun a seamless tale of being travelers who were robbed, who needed a place to crash for the night. He said their IDs were among their missing belongings, and the kind manager gave them a small discount on a room. Two double beds, just as Juliet had requested, on the far corner of the lot. The manager even provided them with bathrobes, and told James where the laundry machines were, should they want to wash their clothes. He didn't need to question why - he could smell himself, and his clothes definitely needed to be cleaned.
When they got to the room, he laid the bathrobes across one of the beds and sat down beside them with a heavy sigh. The day (week) was finally starting to catch up with him. "How's about you shower first, and I'll take our clothes to the laundry," he offered, but Juliet protested.
"I can do that. You've done enough. You shower first."
"Nuh-uh. It's dark, it's late. Get all feminist on me all you want, I don't care. You ain't goin' out there alone."
Juliet scoffed. "I can defend myself."
"I know that. But I don't see no taser on ya." He was teasing, of course.
"You know I don't need a taser. You just caught me on a lazy day."
He grinned at her, and without preamble began peeling off his clothes. Juliet didn't know where to look. She'd seen him naked hundreds of times, maybe more, but things were so weird between them right now. She didn't know if she should gawk, which is what she was absolutely doing. So, she turned her head and kicked off her shoes. He sighed a little, but Juliet couldn't decipher what it meant. She didn't mean to hurt him, but that's all she ever seemed to do lately. Nothing she did or said felt right.
Once completely naked, he pulled on the robe before gathering up his clothes in a pile. Juliet went into the bathroom to turn on the shower, and left her clothes in a pile on the bathroom floor. James was right - they were filthy. They clung to her, stiff with saltwater, and she realized this would be the first time they'd bathed in days. The hot water felt glorious on her skin, and she stood there under the spray, almost in tears, as she let it wash away the very last remnants of the island.
Once he was sure she was in the shower, James popped in to collect them before bringing them to the laundry area. The cold air was almost painful on his bare skin, but it would be worth it to finally wear clean clothes again. It was only a short walk to the laundry area, which was thankfully enclosed and heated, and he popped the clothes in on the shortest cycle. He expected Juliet to be done by the time he got back to the room, but the shower was still going.
So, he turned on the television and started flipping through channels, sitting on top of the covers with his feet crossed and propped up, still clad in his bathrobe. After a few minutes, Juliet emerged wearing just a short towel wrapped around her midsection. The sight made him sit up straighter.
"I forgot to bring the robe in," she explained, almost apologetically, and walked past him towards the far bed to grab it. She pursed her lips in a quick, polite smile before ducking back into the bathroom.
James shook his head. Things were so fucking awkward between them. It was unreal to him, to see her behaving this way around him. Like he hadn't been inside of her just a week ago. Like he hadn't tasted her or held her naked body against his more times than he could count. She was acting like everything had changed between them. But wasn't this just a fight? Nothing had really changed, had it?
Juliet emerged from the bathroom, steam billowing around her. She used her towel to dry her hair, and sat on the far bed with her feet on the floor. She idly watched the TV for a few minutes, before asking, "Are you going to shower?"
James turned lazily to look at her. "Oh yeah. Forgot." He was exhausted. Juliet could tell by the unfocused look in his eyes. He stood, and ambled towards the bathroom. He almost laughed out loud when he saw she left the shampoo lid off. She always did that and it drove him crazy.
Some things never changed. It brought him comfort to know that even though they'd left the island and 1970s Dharmaville behind, Juliet was still Juliet.
He took his time in the shower. For a solid minute he contemplated touching himself, if only to help himself relax. But he decided against it. It felt weird, knowing she was just in the other room, probably talking to Rachel. He was probably going to pass out just fine anyway, once the clothes were done and he could finally sleep. Whenever that would be.
He scrubbed his body with the small bar of soap, and washed his hair twice before finally feeling clean enough to exit the shower. He felt rejuvenated from the hot water, and stood in the steam for several minutes towel-drying his hair before finally leaving the small bathroom. As expected, Juliet was on the phone, speaking in soft, low tones. He couldn't hear what she was saying over the sound of the television.
He tied the robe tighter around his waist and went to check on the clothes. He popped them into the dryer and went back to the room. By the time he arrived, she was no longer on the phone, but her eyes were red and puffy from crying. He tried not to stare, but the sight unsettled him. He hated seeing the woman he loved in pain, sure, but she'd also been so stoic the last week. He supposed everyone had their breaking point. Seeing her unravel almost broke him, too.
"How'd it go?" he asked softly, and sat down on his bed. He shivered and shook his damp hair from his forehead, still warming up from being out in the cold.
She sniffled and swiped her fingers under her eyes. "It was fine. Weird, but good."
"What'd she say…?" James mumbled, trying to continue the conversation but not really knowing what to say to her.
"She was… she was shocked, obviously. She cried for a long time. I tried telling her what happened, but there was so much I couldn't say, you know?" James nodded in response. "She asked me to call again in the morning. I think she needed some time to process everything I told her."
"'Bout the magical Death Island?"
Despite her tears, Juliet chuckled. "No. I basically said I was kidnapped. But that I escaped and was finally able to start making my way home. She offered to come get me, but I didn't know how to explain you, so I said no."
James felt the jab between his ribcage. It was a feeling he didn't quite know what to do with. Something akin to guilt. Or rejection. Or both. "You told her you were alone?"
Juliet shifted uncomfortably and fiddled with the strings on the robe. "Not exactly. She didn't ask, and I didn't offer. I just said I was in a motel in Oregon, and that I was going to start making my way home tomorrow." Juliet huffed a small, unconvincing laugh. "Home," she said again, like she was testing the sounds on her tongue. "Whatever that means."
James tried not to read between the lines. He couldn't deny the sudden panic seeping into his skin. Did Juliet intend on going to Miami without him? Would she tell Rachel about him at all? What if she'd meant what she'd said in the jungle - what if she didn't see them being together anymore?
Had he truly lost her?
Juliet watched his face as he processed what she told him, and it confused her. The frown lines deepened, and the crease between his eyebrows looked like it was cut into his skin. She didn't understand why he looked so upset. Wasn't he happy for her? She'd finally talked to her sister after all this time, and she felt like a tremendous weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Why did he seem so angry about it?
"Glad ya got what ya wanted," he stated dryly and refocused his attention back to the TV. Juliet didn't know what to say. Talking to Rachel had eased so much of her pain. Why was James acting like she'd insulted him? She planned on telling Rachel about him tomorrow morning - it was just too much to say right now. It was too soon. They both needed time to process the fact that Juliet was coming home. Juliet, specifically, needed time to process the astounding fact that James planned on going with her.
For a while, they watched the television in silence. It was incredible, watching TV again, after going so long without it. She thought she'd missed it, but as it turned out, she remembered why she hadn't been super fond of it to begin with. There were too many commercials, there was never anything on that truly captured her interest, and there was something to be said about just enjoying the silence. But she watched what James flicked between, and soon found herself zoning out.
She was startled awake when James left the room to gather their laundry. It was almost two in the morning and her eyes felt like they were made of lead. Before she got too sleepy, she went into the bathroom to pee and use the complementary toothbrush and toothpaste to brush her teeth. By the time she was done, James was back, dumping the wad of clothes onto her bed.
Once more, without a word, he shed his robe, slipped into his boxers, and brushed past her to go into the bathroom. While he was brushing his teeth, she slipped into her own underwear and t-shirt, and stacked her folded jeans, socks, and bra on the table, the money now tucked into the back pocket of her jeans. She folded his clothes too, and stacked them neatly next to hers. She was all tucked into her bed when she heard the toilet flush and saw him amble back out. He looked dead on his feet. He flicked off the television, climbed into his own bed, and gave her one last look of misery before turning off the nightstand light.
"Goodnight, Juliet," he muttered softly, and flopped into a more comfortable position.
"Goodnight, James," she replied. There was a sudden pang in her heart that Juliet couldn't define. She might have called it regret, but she couldn't think of what she actually regretted. Trying to ignore it, she closed her eyes and settled down onto her side. She waited for sleep to come, feeling the overwhelming pull of exhaustion in her bones, but it wouldn't come. She laid on her other side, thinking she just wasn't comfortable enough, but that wouldn't do the trick either.
For almost twenty minutes, she tossed and turned, trying to understand why she couldn't fall asleep. To her right, James adjusted on his bed. And then it hit her.
She cursed herself and her stupid, fallible heart for getting her into this mess. She'd clung so tightly to her anger all week long, and now she had nothing to cling to. Sometime between the sub and now, the anger had disintegrated, leaving a trail of sadness and pain in its wake.
She couldn't deny how much she loved him. She'd slept next to him for three years, and now that she'd let go of the injustice and sense of betrayal… she couldn't deny how much she missed him.
The debate in her mind didn't last long. She wanted - no, she needed - to sleep. If climbing into his bed meant she'd get to sleep, then it was a no brainer. But… would he want her there? She'd all but pushed him away. She'd hurt him. Would he just accept her back, without argument? Was it fair to him to force that choice upon him right now?
Knowing James, and trying to focus on what he'd said tonight, she finally decided he (probably) wouldn't mind. So she took a deep breath, threw back the blankets, and rose from her bed.
James was almost fully asleep when he felt a stir in the air. A soft but steady weight lowered itself onto the bed beside him, and James half-wondered in his half-asleep state if the room was haunted. But the weight was too familiar. He'd slept beside that weight for years, and he knew it all too well.
It made him pause, feeling her tuck herself into the blankets beside him. She was careful not to touch him, which James didn't understand. Normally, she pressed herself against him whether he was asleep or not. It was probably because of their fight, but even that didn't make sense. They'd fought before, and she always sought him out, needing to touch him, like she needed to remind herself he was still there. But not now. Now, she laid ramrod straight, keeping her 'hands and legs inside the boat at all times' as she tried to take up as little space as possible.
Despite sleep being so close to pulling him under, curiosity won out in the end. This felt too important to ignore. James turned onto his side to face her, and found her staring at him with wide, unblinking eyes. For a long moment they just stared at each other through the darkness, hardly able to make out individual features. He couldn't tell what expression she wore, and she couldn't tell what mood he was in. So it was easier to stare, each of them too afraid to make a move of any kind, lest it break the spell that had descended upon them.
Finally, knowing it was going to be up to her, Juliet took a deep breath in through her nose. She reached out a hand, finding the dip in James's waist. She laid her palm there, and tried to ignore the flinch she got in return. She scooted closer to him, and rested her forearm in the dip, letting her hand brush lightly against his lower back. She closed her eyes, unable to fight the relaxation that rolled over her, simply from touching him again. It was so familiar, so comfortable.
James could feel her relax. She let out a tiny sigh, and snuggled deeper into the bed. His heart ached. This was all he'd wanted, for the last week, to have her touch him like this. To have some kind of reminder that she still loved him, still cared for him, still needed him, the way he needed her. A shudder rolled through his body as he processed the pang in his chest. It was pure, unfiltered relief, and it brought him a peace he'd been without for far too long.
Daringly, he scooted even closer to her. He slowly slipped his left arm between her neck and the mattress, and used his right to wrap around her back. He pulled her in closer, and it was like the dam burst once more. She began to tremble against him, and she tightened her hold on his lower back. She buried her face into his neck, and he wove his fingers into her still damp hair. She pressed herself hard against him, clinging for dear life, and James felt himself unwittingly grow hard against her hip. He couldn't help it - it had been so long since he'd had any physical contact with her. But she didn't seem to mind.
For a long time, they held one another, breathing the other in. There was so much they both wanted to say, but neither of them wanted to risk fighting, or somehow ruining the moment. It was too special, being wrapped up in one another like this. James would stay awake all night if it meant feeling her reassuring heat against him. In fact, he was so desperate for her, it actually frightened him. He'd never relied on anyone the way he relied on her.
Juliet felt her resolve unwinding, like a ball of twine. She flashed back to that moment at Rose and Bernard's camp. The pain of what the look had implied lingered, but it was nothing compared to the pain of what had happened since. He'd stuck by her, and she'd pushed him away. He'd tried reassuring her, and she'd ignored him. He'd saved her life after the blast had knocked her unconscious, and yet she still refused to see how he cared for her. He'd stayed by her side, through everything, and though Kate had been there too, Juliet had been too blind to see that she and she alone had remained his top priority at all times. Even now, he was here holding her, desperately clinging to her, and she was too traumatized by her own life experiences to believe in him the way he deserved.
She'd made a huge mess of things. And she was tired of this - tired of living without him. So, she chose forgiveness. Forgiveness in him for hurting her, but also forgiveness in herself for allowing it to come to this. She couldn't do anything about the past, but she could still influence the future.
"I love you, James. I love you so much," she whispered against his skin. James could feel the words as they landed there, soft as silk and powerful as a lead weight. The air whooshed out of him, and he clung to her even more tightly. He held back the burning behind his eyes, and decided to throw caution to the wind.
He tipped her chin back and kissed her. His kiss was soft and tentative at first, testing what he could get away with, but when she didn't pull away, he pressed into her harder, cupping the side of her face and stroking his thumb across her cheekbone. She shivered, and opened her mouth to his. He dove in.
For what felt like hours but could only have been minutes, they kissed, savoring what they'd gone so long without (and almost never had again). It was like breathing fresh air for the first time in ages - refreshing and comfortable and right.
Despite her exhaustion, Juliet couldn't help herself. She could feel James's arousal and knew he wouldn't mind either. It had been too long, and she needed to be as close to him as possible. James was a physical person, and she knew being together this way would say everything she needed to say, but couldn't. It had always been their unspoken language, ever since the beginning.
She slipped her thigh between his legs and angled her body so she hovered slightly above him. She wove her fingers through his hair and tugged lightly. He loved when she did that, and she knew it. The resulting growl from his lips was all the encouragement she needed. She bit playfully on his bottom lip and stroked her hand down his chest. He gripped the back of her shirt, hard, before slipping one hand underneath it to slide up her back.
Involuntarily, Juliet ground herself against his hip, and James shivered before angling his body to lay beside her. He removed one of his hands from inside the back of her shirt in order to pull the garment over her head. Once exposed, he lowered his head to kiss and nibble on her neck, her collarbone, her breasts, making Juliet whimper softly. She reached a hand down to stroke him through his boxers, and James's whole body jerked from the contact.
Everything felt deliciously heated and charged between them, but there was also an underlying sense of desperation and urgency that had nothing to do with physical need. It was emotional, like they'd uncorked something that couldn't be shoved back into the bottle. They both felt the fragmented, mournful energy flickering between them, aching to be whole again. It was apologetic, they both knew, and they both felt ready to make things right between them once more.
It wasn't long before their underwear was tossed to the floor. James dipped his fingers inside Juliet, who cried out against his shoulder from the sheer pleasure of it. Her legs trembled, and James could barely keep himself from finishing right then and there, without even being touched. Her soft cries were making him ache. He soon had to stop touching her, if only because he couldn't wait any longer. He settled his hips between her legs and eased into her with saint-like patience and delicateness. She was warm and familiar and James felt a sob escape his throat. He paused, filling her to the brim, because the sensation was overwhelming.
She was letting him in. Not just physically, but emotionally, and the relief he felt at this simple reassurance was more than he could process. She may be anxious to get home to Miami, but as far as James was concerned, this - Juliet - was his home.
"I know," she whispered, and locked her legs behind his knees. She said it gently, without judgment, and it was enough to bring him back to his senses. He continued his pursuits, sliding in and out of her with practiced ease.
Neither of them lasted very long. Juliet coming hard around him sent him tumbling over the edge himself. He was just grateful he'd lasted long enough to get her there. He honestly wasn't sure if he was going to be able to.
Afterward, he laid with his cheek pressed flat against her chest. He was still settled between her legs, but she'd pulled the blankets up over his back. Repetitively, she stroked his hair back from his face and they waited while their heartbeats returned to baseline. Neither knew quite what to say, so they let their actions speak for them. A gentle stroke here, a kiss on the top of the head there. Any little thing to ensure they truly understood the love they were pouring into the other.
After a few minutes, Juliet excused herself to the bathroom to clean up. When she returned, he was holding the blankets open for her to slip back into. She grinned demurely before folding herself back into his awaiting arms.
After a while, just when he thought she might have fallen asleep, he said what she'd been dying to hear. He didn't know why he said it, but the words just kind of slipped out. "I'm sorry I looked at Kate. I shoulda looked at you."
It was as simple as that. All this time, he'd tried explaining it away, or denying the importance of it, but he'd never actually apologized. He'd tried to reassure her, or ask her to let it go, but now he'd actually said he was sorry.
It meant everything to Juliet, but also nothing. She'd already forgiven him.
"I'm sorry, too," she whispered back, and snuggled closer, placing her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms more tightly around her, pulling her in close.
Both of them could feel something shift into place as they finally fell asleep. It went without saying that things were healing between them, filling in the cracks left behind by the devastation the last week had caused. But like many breaks that were mended the right way, overcoming this hurdle left them stronger than they'd ever been before.