Dance Me to the End of Love

Sawyer lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. After nearly four months of sleeping on the hard ground, Sawyer thought that having a warm bed of his own would be heaven. He never thought he would miss living out in the wild, experiencing nature. This house, this stuffy, boring house, was more of a prison than an asylum.

He turned onto his side and decided to stare at the pale yellow wall instead. So far, his short stay in Dharmaville had proved uneventful. When Richard had shown up in all his eyelined glory, it had seemed promising. Perhaps, he thought, being in this place would shed some light on the damned mysterious heart of darkness.

However, this had clearly not been the case. It just so happened that, as an outsider, he wasn't privy to such information. Sure, they didn't shun him as he had expected, but they were extremely wary of him. It was like a repeat of his first two weeks on the island. So much for a fresh start.

Sawyer growled in frustration. It wasn't like he wanted the damned smoke monster to wreak some havoc—he just wanted something to do. He wasn't accustomed to just standing around idle.

One would think, that after an uneventful day, he would be able to simply lay down and go to sleep. Negative. For whatever reason, it seemed to take him hours to sleep, and each night his insomnia lasted a little longer than the last. Inexplicably, there had been one exception: the night Juliet had arrived on his doorstep terrified and dripping wet.

That night, he had decided to resort to counting sheep, a method that served him unfailingly as a child. Usually, he was able to fall asleep as soon as he reached 200. He was well over 1000 when he heard her knocking.

The image of her, standing there, like a glass doll, eyes pleading, was fresh in his mind. It was incredibly disconcerting. He had seen her threatened, angry, smug, content, and confused, but he had never seen her truly terrified about anything, even in midst of all the crazy happenings on the islands. That foreign expression coupled with the dark bruises on her neck struck a chord with him somewhere.

He knew he should have said something, anything more to comfort her. It was in his nature to demand answers, and get to the root of the problem. But he couldn't say anything more with her looking so fragile. She looked like she could shatter at any moment.

That night, he had slept near a woman rather than with a woman for the first time since his mother had been alive. It had been nice, just being able to sleep, not having to fulfill any expectations or whisper some hurried excuse before running off. He had fallen asleep as soon as his head had hit the pillow.

When he woke up, his arm was draped lightly over her side, her back inches away from his chest.

It was an odd feeling being friends with a woman, he had thought as he slowly disentangled himself from her sleeping form. Though it was entirely new to him, he was entirely sure that friendship shouldn't cause such a strange sensation in his chest.

He decided to blame it on hunger.

That morning, she had taught him to make an omelet. He had burnt his while pondering how strange it was to have a woman in his kitchen wearing only a nightgown, cooking him breakfast. It had been so surreal that it prompted him to walk into his room and offer her a pair of trousers and a T-shirt, remarking that she must be cold.

She had looked at him strangely and complied, going to his room to change. It wasn't until she had closed the door that he realized how stupid his comment had been, considering they were on a tropical island.

He decided to ignore the strange effect she seemed to be having on him, blaming it this time on his previous days of missed sleep. He thought everything would be back to normal soon.

Yet here he was, laying awake, thinking of her when he should be asleep.

Screw it, Sawyer thought as a thin beam of moonlight shone right into his eyes. Some cosmic force was disagreeing with him today and though he was damn sure he wasn't going to win the fight, he could at least close the curtains.

He stood up, grumbling under his breath. His hand stopped midway as his eyes centered on a figure in white, dancing gracefully to some unknown tune. He watched for a few moments, stunned as she twirled and dipped.

It was Juliet.

But what was stranger than seeing her dancing outside at some ungodly hour, was that she wasn't alone. There was someone dancing with her. Someone he knew all too well.

Juliet was wide awake. She could feel the goosebumps appearing on her arms each passing second. It was only a matter of time, she thought, until he came again. She had spent most of the night thinking of what she could possibly say to him to make him disappear, to no avail. She knew, after three years of captivity on the island, that Ben always did whatever he wanted. And when he wanted something or someone, no one could stop him.

So she waited, trying to appear strong and knowing the fear was slowly consuming her.

She had wondered whether she should tell James about the incident, but thought against it. After he had been so kind to let her share his bed, she couldn't impress this problem on him any further. This was her problem, her mess. Getting James involved would cause "Ben" to react. Ben was vicious with out a doubt, but this manifestation seemed to have another motive for taunting her.

"Juliet."

She sighed, resigned to her fate. "Ben," she said, not bothering to sit up to acknowledge his presence.

"Ben?" the voice asked, puzzled.

Juliet sat up quickly, suddenly recognizing the voice. "Jack?" she asked. Her voice sounded oddly strangled. "Is that—is that really you?"

She sat staring at him for a moment, wide eyed and confused. He looked exactly the same, dressed in the same clothes as the day he had walked away and left her behind. A rare smile graced his handsome face, his brown eyes warm and inviting.

She stood up and began to walk toward him slowly, cautiously, afraid that if she walked too fast, he would leave her again. Her arm reached out hesitantly to touch his face. She felt warm skin under her fingertips and opened her eyes in astonishment.

"How?" she asked as she pulled her hand away quickly, her heart suddenly filled with suspicion. "You left this island. I saw the helicopter lift off, and I know you never came back. So why are you here, Jack?"

His hand reached out suddenly to tightly grab her wrist and he pulled her closer. "You know why I'm here, Juliet. I know what you've been avoiding since the day you arrived. You and I both know what you have to do."

"You know how different my life would be if I didn't do what you're asking?"

Jack shook his head, angrily. "Do you know how much is at stake if you don't do it? It may happen another way, Juliet, and in return you will have to pay for not doing what you know you must."

She remained silent for a while, contemplating this. "If I do this, will you never bother me again?"

"I can't promise that."

"Why did you come here as Jack?"

He chuckled. "You tend to listen to those you lo—"

"Don't." She hissed.

"You must do it, Juliet."

She sighed and nodded her head reluctantly. "Could you do something for me in return?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You're not exactly in the position to be making demands."

"Just give me five minutes. I need five minutes to say goodbye to him."

"You know I'm not him. I'm just a manifestation of your memories, fueled by the island's will. I could never be him."

"You don't have to say anything. Just pretend."

He nodded as her fingers encircled his wrist and led him outside, to the area outside her house. She grabbed his hands and placed them gently on her waist. "Dance with me," she whispered.

He complied as she closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck. She pressed her ear against his chest, and though his body was warm, there was no heartbeat.

She danced to the tune of her own pain, replaying the feelings of loss and abandonment she had felt in the days of his absence. His rejection had had an effect on her regardless of how much she tried to ignore it. It was hard to have one's heart broken, trying not to wince while piecing the sharp pieces back together. In the end, it would be fixed, but there would be nothing like it once was.

"I loved you, Jack." she confessed aloud. "I didn't just want you to rescue me. I wanted you to love me back. For once, I wanted someone to care about me, selfish as it may be."

She wanted to cry, but she found that no tears would fall and she felt grateful for that. She pressed her ear against his chest, and though his body was warm, there was no heartbeat.

Fitting, she thought. His heart doesn't belong to me, even in memory.

Somehow, Juliet knew her five minutes were almost up. She stared into his eyes, with new resolve. "But I'm ready to move on now. And you're free to do as you wish."

They suddenly stopped dancing and Juliet stepped back to look at him one last time. "Goodbye, Jack."

She closed her eyes and turned around. When she looked back at the spot where she had left him, he was gone.

"Didn't know you felt so strongly about the Doc."

Juliet quickly wiped away any semblance of tears from her eyes and turned to face him. "Didn't know you cared."

"I didn't," he said simply. "But I do now, for some reason."

She raised an eyebrow. "You aren't going to ask what the hell that was?"

"I know you aren't going to tell me what the hell that was."

She smiled. "Would you believe me if I told you it was a manifestation of my memories, sending me a message from the island?"

He hesitated then shrugged. "After what I've seen on this damn island, I've learned to just go with it."

"Good plan."

They remained silent for a moment, each searching for something to say.

"Was that—"

"Would you—"

Juliet laughed and held up a hand. "You first."

"Was that the same thing that was after you before? The one that made you black and blue?" he said, gesturing at the bruises on her neck, still visible under the powder she had applied.

"I believe they are purple, James. I know because I went though the trouble of trying to ask Amy for a matching outfit to—"

"I'm serious."

She didn't doubt his statement, judging from the sudden intense look in his eyes. "Yes, but as a different memory. Before it was masquerading as Ben and tried to strangle me."

"And you danced with it, after all that?"

"Forgive and forget, James."

"Sounds like stupidity to me," he grumbled.

"You say tomato."

Sawyer felt his anger grow, suddenly. "This isn't a joke, Juliet!

She was stunned, not by his anger, but by the fact that he had spoken her name.

"You may not care about what happens to yourself. Fine! But there are people that do care if you go and get yourself killed. So next time you decide to play Ghost Whisperer, you might want to let someone know!"

She responded by closing the distance between then and wrapping her arms around his neck, as she had with "Jack".

"Thank you." she whispered. "Thank you, James, for caring."

"Now hold on a second, I never said—"

"Don't ruin the moment."

He nodded, holding the volatile blond in his arms. "Yes, ma'am."

Sawyer looked up and smirked triumphantly at the powers that be. Sure they had kept him from glorious, precious sleep tonight. But he had finally found the solution, the feeling of warmth and security that could cure a thousand sleepless nights.

Hey! Sorry it took me so long, but I'm swamped with both scholarship and school work. Unfortunately, updates will slow down to maybe once every 4 days or once a week during this period, but will speed up again in mid-May after exams. This chapter was originally inspired by "Dancing in the Moonlight" by King Harvest, but as I continued to write it, it became less light -hearted and didn't fit the feel of the song. It started to remind me of the cover of "Dance me to the End of Love" by Madeleine Peyroux originally by Leonard Cohen. The song has a deeper meaning than what I decided to write about, seeing as the song is actually about the Holocaust, and how the string Quartets would play while others while horror and chaos evolved around them. "Dance me to the End of Love" in Cohen's interpretation means until the loss of innocence or belief in humanity. He said, on the Mike Walsh Show, that the song could be taken from that angle or as a song about the loss of love.

My take was much more literal as you can see. Juliet has to accept that she must let Jack go if she wishes to move on. I really think she did feel deeply for him, and therefore, this had to be addressed to a larger extent. I think the next chapter will be based on "Ben" by Michael Jackson, in which you may discover what Juliet must do. Or not. I hope you liked it! Tell me what you think and see you next chapter!

Miki-Hime

P.S. For those of you who wanted to know, my penname is not really a reference to the anime Bleach. Miki-hime means "moon princess" in Japanese. One of my friends used to call me that and it stuck :) .