Fools in Love
When Sawyer woke up, he tasted salt on his lips. He immediately sat up and placed his hand to his face, feeling a sticky substance on his cheek. It had been a while since he tasted tears. He remembered the nights following his parents' death, when the anger would mingle with sorrow and the dam inside him would break. He allowed himself a few days of weakness, just a few days and then his childhood ended and the anger returned. He never cried again after that.
So when he woke up, with tears staining his cheeks, he knew they were not of his own making. He knew immediately whom they belonged to, as she was the only one sleeping next to him last night. However, though the deduction made logical sense, Sawyer had trouble accepting it. As far as he knew, Juliet didn't shed tears for anyone, not even herself. She wasn't the type of girl that teared up easily because of trivial things. If she had cried, on his face no less, then it must have been serious.
With that thought in mind, Sawyer sprang out of bed and threw on his Dharma jumpsuit before searching his entire house for the snarky blonde.
"JULIET!" he yelled at the top of his lungs as he opened doors, cupboards, and, hell, even drawers, in order to find her. "JULIET, DAMMIT!"
It just didn't make any sense. There was no sign of a struggle, no indication of foul play but, for some reason, it just didn't feel right that she was missing. She never just left him, even when she woke up before him. She'd usually be in the kitchen sipping a cup of coffee or in the sitting room, her feet dangling off the edge of the love seat, with a book in her hands. He'd come in, still groggy from sleep, and she would turn and smile at him before making some smart-ass remark about his sleeping pattern.
She lived there without really living there. When she left, he could always feel her presence. He couldn't get rid of her if he tried. A spare toothbrush lay behind the cabinet in the bathroom, the pages of his books, his bed sheets, and the couch smelled faintly of lavender, a small brown circle marred his linoleum floor due to their cooking lessons, a bright smile warmed his heart…
He clenched his fists, walked back to the bedroom, and sat on the bed, trying to think rationally. Sure it was strange that she had left, and that she had been crying before she had done so, but what did it all really mean? For all he knew, today could be a sentimental day for her. Maybe she was sitting in her house right now, baking a cake for someone else who she felt she had failed. Maybe he was overreacting.
He stood up again, deciding to head for Juliet's house, but as he did so, he felt a searing pain in his left foot .
"Son-of-a-bitch!" he yelled to no one in particular. He held his wounded foot in his hand as he hopped around the room in agony. A few moments later he lost his balance and tumbled to the ground. Annoyed, he searched the ground for the offending object.
The black rose lay on the floor a few inches away from him, just as it had earlier that morning. He picked it up of the floor and twirled the stem slowly in his fingers examining it at every angle, his mind now working in overdrive. He knew black roses were impossible to obtain naturally. Who ever had placed it inside his room must have painstakingly altered the rose, a process that must have taken months to get right, just so either him or Juliet would see it.
Sawyer knew full well the power of hatred. Next to adrenaline, there was no drug quite like it. It consumed the soul, blackened the heart, perpetuated insanity. The person who had decided to grow this rose, in this particular color, for however long it had taken, had hatred buried within. Sawyer imagined he must have been unhinged in some way…
He jumped up again, ignoring the pain he induced in his foot as he did so. If the person who had done this was filled with this much hatred, he or she must be just about ready to release all that pent up emotion. If that was the case, he had to find Juliet quickly and get her to safety, and quickly. He shuddered to think about the alternative.
When Juliet woke up, she tasted blood on her lips. She slowly opened her eyes and attempted to press her fingers to her lips to access the damage, but found that her arms were bound tightly to some sort of wooden chair. Ah, she thought, that's more like it. She was beginning to think that her life was returning to normal.
Her head was throbbing so badly that it was a small miracle that she was able to keep her eyes open at all. Fragments of memories were slowly coming together in her mind but everything was still fuzzy. She couldn't remember for the life of her why she was tied to a chair on a Tuesday afternoon. Such things were better left to Saturdays.
"I told you she'd come around if I hit her enough," said Dave, smugly as he gestured to her. "I didn't hit her hard enough to cause brain damage."
"We need to keep her alive long enough for Lafleur to see her," hissed his red-headed companion. "If you kill her, we've lost our bargaining chip, idiot!"
"Chips?" quipped Juliet, eyes wide with glee. "I would kill for some of those right now. Do you happen to have sour cream and onion?"
"What the hell is she talking about?" asked Dave.
Then, they heard it: the distant sound of knocking followed by muffled, frantic shouts. The two kidnappers looked at each other for a moment. The redhead smiled.
"It was about time he showed up, "she said, glancing at her nails. "I was beginning to believe we made a miscalculation. It seems this woman is worth something to him after all."
Dave grinned before asking, "What do we do now?"
Less than a second later, he had his answer. The sound of a gunshot rang through the air. The man screamed in agony as he gripped his leg. Blood began to seep through the fabric of his Dharma jumpsuit and the redhead watched it with a morbid fascination in her eyes.
"Stop being such a baby. Go up there before Lafleur knocks the door down, Dave. If he sees that you're not there, the whole plan will go to hell," she ordered as she stood over him, gun still cocked. She didn't seem at all guilty about what she'd done. There was a mad gleam in her eyes as she stared at his anguished eyes. "I want him to squirm. Make him squirm for me. Punish him for what he's done."
He nodded through the pain.
She then smiled and kissed him. When their lips parted, he stared at her for a moment, smiling. She returned the gesture, but her eyes remained cold. He propped himself up on her shoulder, sent her one last smile, and limped away into the darkness.
"That was pretty twisted," Juliet said, once she was sure he was out of earshot. "But I guess no love story's complete without a gunshot wound."
"There is no love story," the redhead said simply. "Only a story of manipulation."
"Whatever gets you through the day," Juliet responded, smiling.
The captor smirked and plopped down on the floor in front of her, "You're not even going to ask me who I am?"
Juliet shrugged. "Why waste my breath asking, when you're just going to tell me anyway? It's necessary protocol for all revenge seeking kidnappers. The monologue will come eventually; it's a necessary evil. I do hope it's interesting, though, since you haven't even had the courtesy to give me any reading material."
"I like you, Juliet. You remind me of myself," said the red head, grinning. Then, she sighed and added, "It's a shame I'm going to have to kill you. To make it up to you, I promise to give your story a poetic conclusion."
"Why not just kill me, then?" Juliet asked as the haze began to clear more rapidly. "Why do you have to bring James into it? I'm sure what happened was my fault. I've accepted my fate. He has nothing to do with this."
The woman stopped smiling and shouted, "He has everything to do with this!"
"I find that hard to believe," said Juliet, eyebrow raised. "It's really difficult to be responsible for everything unless you're a god or something. James doesn't even come close."
"You think this is funny, don't you?" the woman asked as she began to circle Juliet's like a shark. "You honestly think I'm not going to do anything to you. Well, you're wrong. I fully intend to kill you in front of Lafleur. He should know the feeling of losing someone he loves."
Juliet gave her a strange look, then tipped back her head and laughed. The sound resonated off the walls of the walls of the room sending shivers down Juliet's spine. Her body's reaction made her laugh even harder, as if she was feeding off of her own contemptuous intent. They had a deep friendship, deeper than she could have ever imagined a few months ago and, yes, perhaps she was beginning to fall in love with him. But there was no chance in hell that he felt the same way about her. That would be the day.
"You're wrong," Juliet said breathless from laughter. "James doesn't love me like you think he does. You've got the wrong girl. The girl you're looking for is long gone. Good luck trying to find her now."
"You're a fool," said the woman, shaking her head. "I suppose it gives new meaning to the phrase "only fools fall in love". In the end, it only causes pain. When you lose that person you truly care about, you feel like your heart has been ripped to pieces. Is it worth it? Is love really worth all that agony?"
"It's better to have loved and lost then to never know love at all," Juliet said, treading over her words carefully. This woman in front of her was clearly a force to be reckoned with. Perhaps if she could crack her shell just a little bit, direct her anger towards herself rather than Sawyer…
"You're a coward," Juliet said suddenly, after a short period of silence.
The woman narrowed her eyes and took a step closer to Juliet. "Excuse me? I would watch my tongue if I were you. You're not in the position to make such careless comments. One more word out of you and I'll rip your tongue out."
"You lost someone you love, that I understand. You want to seek revenge, right? Understandable as well," Juliet said, looking steadily into the woman's icy blue eyes. "However, your reasons for seeking revenge have nothing to do with him and everything to do with your selfish need to assert yourself. You think love has made you weak and you want to destroy everything that remind you of how that weakness has completely destroyed you."
"Shut up!" The woman screamed. Her palm connected with her face before Juliet could say another word. "Shut the hell up! You don't know what you're talking about!"
She launched herself at her, her fists connecting with various parts of Juliet's body. Through it all, even though the pain searing throughout her body, she didn't show any signs of pain. Instead, looked at her captor, her eyes filed with icy disgust.
"Why. Won't. You. SCREAM?!" The woman yelled, ending each sentence with another punch. The wooden chair began to creak and splinter under the added pressure. "Scream for mercy, you insufferable bitch!"
That's it, Juliet thought, fighting through the pain. Just kill me now. I'll take all the responsibility. Let out all your anger on me. Please, please don't hurt him.
The woman punched her one last time, and Juliet suspected she used the last of her strength to do so. She dug her fingers into her shoulders, and Juliet had to bite her tongue to stop herself from screaming.
"I'm going to make you suffer," the woman whispered into her ear before slapping her again. "I see through your ruse. You thought I'd forget, that I'd simply transfer my hatred elsewhere? Don't underestimate me!"
"Don't flatter yourself. You almost lost your control; you're not as cold as you'd like people to believe and you allowed me to see that." Juliet laughed aridly as she looked into her captor's eyes, suddenly unafraid of what was to come. "Don't you see? You so easily transferred your anger to me. You don't have a purpose in this other than to vent your anger on someone, anyone. It doesn't matter if it's me, James, or Dave. You're just a slave to your emotions."
"Or maybe I just wanted to teach you a lesson," she said in an attempt to gain her composure. However, the damage had already been done. "You and I are going to wait here until your lapdog finds us. Until then, shut your mouth or I'll shut it for you."
Juliet smiled knowingly, but said no more. She had cracked the woman in front of her and, though she had not succeeded in taking her mind off of James, she knew there was hope for her yet. The wooden poles that supported the back of her chair were now splintered due to the woman's onslaught. Though it would take her a few hours and a bit more pain, she was certain she would be able to free herself. By the time Sawyer arrived, she would prove to them all that she wasn't just some damsel in distress; she was a force to be reckoned with.
"Juliet!" Sawyer shouted as he knocked on her door frantically. "Open this damn door!"
There was no response. Sawyer felt a cold chill wash over him as he knocked once more. "Juliet! If you're in there, open the door! This isn't a joke! If you don't answer me in five seconds, I'm breaking down this door!"
There was a pregnant pause, during which Sawyer could have sworn her heard a muffled scream of pain. The sound was all the invitation he needed. Stepping back a few steps, he lifted the sole of his boot and crashed it down upon the door with all his strength.
The door didn't stand a chance in hell. It tumbled to the ground with a resounding thud. Sawyer didn't waste any time making his entrance. He first checked the living room, which happened to be her favorite spot in her home. The place looked immaculate as usual, sans a single overturned book on the coffee table. One of these days, he would somehow change her mind about the "blasphemous dog-ear book marking technique".
He shook his head. Now was definitely not the time for scheming; he needed to find Juliet. He needed to make sure she was safe from harm.
Sawyer swiftly made his way into the kitchen and then paused as he arrived at her bedroom. He always paused before he entered her room. It wasn't something he did out of courtesy. No, he had never been the gentlemanly type. There was something about the room, or perhaps the idea of it that made him feel very nervous. He supposed it was just one of life's big mysteries, something he woul never fully come to understand.
Lord, if Hibbs, the miserable son-of-a bitch could see him now. Give him a mark, any assignment and he was suave and charming, god's freaking gift to woman. Place him in front of a beautiful, sarcastic lady doctor and he was reduced to a twelve-year -old boy. Perhaps if Hibbs had been privy to this bit of information, he wouldn't have been as keen to send him straight to hell.
Sawyer took a breath, ignoring the churning feeling in his stomach. He lifted his knuckles, hesitating for a moment before rapping hard on the wooden surface of her door.
"Juliet! You home?"
Silence, then a muffled moaning sound. Sawyer chuckled, feeling the fear drain from his body. "You mean to tell me that you've been sleeping this entire time? " He wrapped his hand around the doorknob and slowly pushed the door open. "If you ever call me "Sleeping Beauty" again, I'll—"
He stopped talking immediately. Coming into the room, he had expected to see her laying on the bed, perhaps covering her head with a pillow to block out the noise. The bed, contrary to his predictions, was fully made. That was only the first inconsistency that struck him as he quickly glanced over the room. The other was the thin trail of blood that had seeped though her carpet. It began at the door, curving around and disappearing behind the other side of the bed.
For a split second, he considered running away and leaving her body just as it was. No one would know he had come; he would destroy the security tapes. They would figure it out on their own once the security team discovered they had lost their mark.
He didn't want to see her, not like this, not when he was surrounded by painful reminders of her existance. Images of her, with her earth-shattering smile and kind eyes flashed through his mind. He could feel her fingers running through his hair and the comforting warmth of her lap, her voice repeating in a loop in her mind: I believe in you, I believe in you, I believe in you.
He wasn't sure if he was hearing ghosts, or if it was a memory from a dream but it was enough to push him forward. Though he wasn't sure he was ready for the sight that awaited him, he knew that she deserved much better than this. She deserved more than this; she deserved justice. He would overcome his fear of loss to give her dignity in death at the very least.
He walked with slow, almost mechanical steps toward the bed, keeping his eyes trained on the trail of blood, bracing himself for the glassy look of death in her eyes and the stain of blood on her skin.
The first thing he saw were big brown boots, one of which was stained in blood. His body almost crumbled to the floor as the relief washed over him in waves. Boots. Male boots, just like the ones tied to his feet. Boots Juliet wouldn't be caught dead in, pun completely and unabashedly intended.
He knelt down next to the body, trying to get a good look at the victim's face. He was a member of the security team, given the stitching on his Dharma jumpsuit. His suit didn't have a name, however, which meant he was an entry level guard, a rookie. Blood stained the front of his jumpsuit and his fingers. Sawyer's eyes traveled further until they landed on his face. A purple bruise marred his otherwise attractive face, his blond hair was covered in blood, and he was… shivering?
Despite the annoyance he had felt towards this man previously, he would have never wished for something like this to happen to him. Sure, he was an arrogant, smart mouthed bastard who had deserved that satisfying punch in his face, but he most certainly didn't deserve to die.
"Dave? Dave, can ya hear me?"
The man, still shivering, nodded. Then he gripped the fabric of James's jumpsuit and looked into his eyes fearfully. "They took her, Jim. I couldn't do anything about it. He shot me in the leg and just left me for dead. I was the security guard this morning, after Tom. I suppose they were working together. Him and that dorky scientist bastard. They came in here, totting guns! He slapped her, beat her up, you know? They took her away; I couldn't do anything about it. I'm really sorry!"
"It's okay, Dave," Sawyer said. It wasn't okay. His world was still fucked up in the worst kind of way. He wasn't going to waste his anger on this man, who had at least tried to save Juliet's life. He had much bigger fish beat the hell out of at the moment. "I'll call the security team, let them know where you are so they can get you some medical assistance. Just hang tight, you're gonna be okay."
"Where will you go?"
Sawyer stared at him as though it was painfully obvious. "I'm gonna go kill somebody."
Sometimes, people have those moments where they can't control the words that come out of their mouths. Roy Davis had those moments constantly. Sometimes he wondered if he had some kind of disorder, one that had not yet been classified. At first, he thought himself a compulsive liar, but he knew it was a false diagnosis. His lies were not compulsive; they were purposeful. He lied to protect people from the truth, not because he wanted to impress them.
He didn't often care what people thought of him. They thought him a dorky scientist, a recluse who had lost touch with reality. Perhaps he had, in a way. He didn't expect them to be cordial to him; people are often apprehensive and defensive towards that which they could not understand.
When he had made that promise, many years ago, he never would have thought things would have played out like this. He had thought that woman had been driven crazy because of the life she had led and had taken everything she said with a grain of salt.
She had been right; he did fall in love with Juliet. He had prepared himself to hate her, to completely ignore her, just to prove the other woman wrong. When he had first seen Juliet, walking with that pretty blush on her face as she pulled her shorts down uncomfortably, he knew he was in over his head. He had meant to keep it to himself, as though it would make the feeling a little less real. Instead, he blurted it out without a thought. Of all the lies he had told Juliet, he wanted to tell her something real. He didn't care that she didn't love him back, he had come to accept it. As long as she was happy with Lafleur, he didn't have a problem—
"OPEN THIS DAMN DOOR!"
Speak of the devil and he shall appear, he thought shaking his head. Had he heard already? No. Juliet wouldn't tell him something like that no matter how good of a friendship they had formed. It had to be something else.
He sighed as he walked towards the door, wishing that he wasn't part of the drama for once in his life. His fingers pulled back the small fabric curtains covering the panels in the door, revealing a very angry Sawyer. "Before I let you in, you have to tell me what you're here for. I doubt you want to borrow a cup of sugar at this early hour."
Roy flinched a little as Sawyer's fist banged against the small window pane which cracked upon impact. "You know, you could just tell me what's wrong. If you're looking for Juliet—"
"Don't you dare say her name!"
"Fine, Fine!" He said holding up his hands in front of himself defensively. "If you're looking for the extremely attractive blond who occasionally shacks up in your apartment and smells peculiarly of lavender, you're looking in the wrong place."
When he punched the window this time, it shattered. Roy barely had enough time to dodge bloody fist and the wayward shards. "WHERE. IS. SHE?"
"I. Don't. Know." Roy said, mimicking him. "I thought she was with you. I mean, she's always with you."
He didn't respond. Instead, he fit his bleeding hand through the broken window and unlocked the door. Before Roy had enough time to stop him, Sawyer swung unlocked the door and opened it. The door swung back with so much force that it hit and cracked the wall behind it.
"I know you're lying," Sawyer said, his fists clenched in rage. "I see you lookin' at her all the time. I ignored it because there's no harm in looking, is there? Who wouldn't look at her? But you didn't just look; you beat her up! You touched her with your filthy hands and I swear if you don't come up with an explanation in the next sixty seconds, Einstein, I'll break every one of your fingers, and then I'll kill you slowly."
"You idiot!" said Roy, who didn't seem the least bit intimidated. "You let your guard down. I trusted you to watch her and you lost her!"
"Trusted me to watch her?" Sawyer asked, outraged. "You don't even know her!"
"I know her better than you know, perhaps even better than you! Don't talk about things you have absolutely no knowledge of! We're wasting time just talking about this. She's in a lot of danger. We may already be too late!"
"You're insane," Sawyer said, shaking his head. "You think because you stalk her that you know more about her than I do? I don't trust you, poindexter, and I'm not leaving this house until you give me one good reason why I should."
Roy sighed, suddenly feeling tired. "I'm in love with her, have been from the moment I saw her."
"You're going to have to do much better than that," Sawyer said, crossing his hands over his chest. "Astronauts from the space station could tell me that you're in love with her. You just gave me more of a reason not to trust you."
Roy didn't want to say this, not here, not now, not when Juliet was in danger. He had wanted to tell her, wanted to be there when the startling news slipped the ground from under her. He knew her real secret, a secret that even Juliet herself wasn't aware of. He'd been waiting almost three years, carrying the burden of a promise and a premonition. He didn't want Lafleur to take this away from him too.
"Juliet is not who you think she is," he said, choosing his words carefully.
"You had better explain what you mean. I 'aint gonna let you insult her on my watch, Socrates."
Roy sighed in aggravation; they were running out of time, and fast. "I don't mean that she's a bad person, Jim. There's a lot of things she doesn't know about herself. For instance, she was born on this island in 1971."
"Now I know that's a damn lie and you know it. If she was born in 1971, how is she a full grown woman in 1974. It just doesn't add up—"
"You can stop with your little ruse, Jim, I know you and your crew are from the future. I knew even before you were recruited as part of the DI. Well, I knew she was from the future, I figured the rest of you were as well. Don't worry," he began to say as Sawyer began to look worried, "I haven't told anyone. That should be reason enough for you to trust me, but I know better than to believe you'll accept it just like that."
"The hell I won't," Sawyer mumbled. "I don't trust you. I don't believe your cock and bull story about Juliet being born on this island. There 'aint a little blond girl running around this place that look like her. Her name's not on the registry. I would have noticed if it were."
"I never said her parents were in the Dharma initiative."
Sawyer's eyes widened as he processed this information. "You mean to tell me that she's—that she's an other?"
"If by "other" you mean hostile then, yes, she is. She probably doesn't remember, seeing as she was less than a year old at the time of her departure. Her sister was only two years older than her at the time. I believe her name was Rachael?"
Sawyer narrowed his eyes. "How the hell do you know that?"
"Her mother told me. I helped her escape after she saved my life. They were going to kill her because of what she had done; I couldn't let them do that to her. I hid them within the initiative and smuggled them off the sub years ago, but I knew that she'd come back one day in some capacity."
"How?"
"Juliet's mother, Erica, had a gift. She had visions of the future, though she never fully explained how or why that was possible. She told me that I would meet her daughter again, that I would fall in love with her. I thought it was ludicrous; I was 29 at the time and she was only a baby, the cutest little baby I had ever seen, but still just a baby. It would have been quite the age gap, wouldn't it? I didn't think she meant it like this, but she was right."
"Right," Sawyer said slowly, still eying Roy with suspicion. "You expect me to believe you, just like that?"
"There's much more to the story than what I've told you, of course," Roy said, turning towards a small book shelf to his left, "but I'm afraid we don't have much time for that right now." He grabbed a small, worn leather bound book from the shelf and handed it to Sawyer. "If you need proof, it's all in here, but you don't have much time to read it right now. You're just going to have to trust me. We have to work together to find her."
Sawyer stared at him for a few moments, trying to process all the information that had just been revealed to him. His story didn't seem fabricated and he looked sincere. Though he was still a bit apprehensive about this man, he could tell that he genuinely cared for Juliet. He knew he would have to trust him if he wanted to save her.
"Alright," Sawyer said grudgingly, slipping the small book into his pocket. "This doesn't mean I like you or anything."
Roy shrugged. "I don't expect you to. The only thing I want from you is an explanation. I want to know why you suspected me of kidnapping Juliet. You're the second person in one day."
"I went searching for Juliet at her house. I found Dave lying on the floor in her room; he had been shot in the leg by some intruder. He said you and Tom had come in carrying guns and that you had beaten Juliet and taken her away somewhere."
Roy held his chin in his hands, thinking. "It didn't strike you the least bit odd that he was in her bedroom, just laying there? He was supposed to keep watch over her house from the front, not follow her inside. And why didn't he radio the rest of the security team to tell them what had happened? Why did he just lay there?"
"He did seem pretty damn calm for a man who had been shot in the leg. He didn't even scream or make any noise when I knocked down the door and…" Sawyer thought back to the image of Dave, sprawled on the floor before continuing, "Come to think of it, there was blood all over his hands and the front of his uniform, but his pants… they looked like they hadn't been touched since he got shot. That blood came from somewhere else."
"Juliet," Roy whispered, clenching his fists. "Damn it!"
"Damn it is right," Sawyer growled. "I just radioed Horace and a few other guys. They rushed him in to go see the doctor. I should have killed him when I had the chance. I knew he was trouble the moment he suggested throwing her to the wolves. He was working with someone all this time and I had no idea. I couldn't protect her—"
"Don't speak in the past tense. I don't think she's dead just yet," Roy said.
"I know she's tough, but she 'aint Wonder Woman. There was too much… too much blood. He must have killed her."
"If he could have done this himself, what did he need an accomplice for? Or, rather, what did the accomplice need him for?" He sighed, feeling aggravated at Sawyers confused expression. "Dave isn't acting of his own volition; he's working for someone! I think they needed to keep Juliet alive, which means—"
"—that Juliet was never their target to begin with," Sawyer finished for him. He was beginning to understand it all now, the writing on the mirror, the kidnapping, the staged injury. "I was their target all along. They wanted to hurt her to get to me."
"Right," Roy said, a little annoyed that he wasn't able to dazzle Sawyer with the truth. "Someone has a vendetta against you, for whatever reason. I don't know who you angered but he or she is literally after your blood."
Sawyer glared at him. "Thanks, that makes me feel a whole lot better. What would I do without ya, Bill Nye?"
"I'm not sure who this "Bill Nye" character is, but that's not important right now. We've got to inform the security team about this; we're going to need all the help we can get on this. Hand me your radio."
Sawyer shook his head. "I'm not going to involve any more people in this. Enough is enough. Besides, we don't even know where the hell they took her."
"Says you," Roy said, rolling his eyes. "I happen to know exactly where she is, though it troubles me that someone else is aware of it."
"Clue me in any time you feel like it," Sawyer quipped sarcastically. "After all, we've got all the time in the world. It's not like she's in danger or anything so don't worry your pretty little head."
"Every section of the land occupied by the Dharma initiative was mapped to the centimeter when the we first found this island. The blueprints to all the houses are located in the security vault to be used for emergency situations such as this. However, one of the houses isn't completely charted. This is because I was the one who built it.
" I was one of the first people to come here in 1971, recruited because of my prowess in the field of astrophysics. They wanted to woo me, and all I wanted was a house of my own, a house that had secrets only I was privy to as its builder. Juliet is somewhere in that house, I know it."
"Don't you mean this house?" Sawyer asked, perplexed.
"No. Juliet lives in the house that I built, the same place I hid her, her mother, and her sister when I helped them escape. I left it for her, in case she actually came back as her mother predicted, and has remained unoccupied since they left. Whoever is after you found out about that house somehow and has probably been living there for a few months, having full access to all of the house's amenities."
"You mean this wacko has been right under our noses this whole time and we didn't even notice?"
Roy nodded. "If he's as cracked as I think he is, then this very well may be a suicide mission. You sure you don't want any backup?"
Sawyer shook his head as he adjusted the rifle on his shoulder. In his rage, he had completely forgotten he was carrying it. "This is my problem. I don't need no help from anyone."
"I'm in too, then," Roy said. "You're going to need my help to find the room, and I've always wanted to have a legitimate excuse to shoot someone."
"You're a bit of a wacko yourself," Sawyer said, looking at him oddly.
"Yeah," Roy said, reaching deep inside a nearby drawer and grabbing a pistol, "but I'm the best you've got."
They both stood there for a moment, looking at each other. Right then, they weren't completely different people, a scientist and a security officer. They were just two men, fearing for the life of a woman they cared about, both with a common goal in mind: to punish the person who dared lay a finger on her.
With that common goal in mind, the headed towards the direction of Juliet's house where, unbeknownst to them, their supposed damsel had nearly succeeded in severing the tight ropes that bound her wrists.
He, he. More about Juliet's mother in later chapters. I'm not going to go into too much details just yet. I left a few subtle clues on who her captor is in relation to the characters. I'll reveal her next chapter and give a little more insight into the time that Roy spent with Juliet's mother two years ago. I made Juliet's birth year 1970, which makes her 34, two years younger than Sawyer. The chapter was inspired by the song "Fools in Love" by Inara George. I'll let you decide who those fools really are. There was no Sawyer and Juliet interaction, but there will be a LOT of it next chapter, so don't worry about that. I haven't forgotten my priorities.
Please let me know what you think! I'm heading to college (as a freshman! Whoooooo!) in about 5 days and I can feel the stress coming from all directions. Writing helps me cope, but I don't think I'll be able to write much over the next few weeks. Feedback always makes me happy because it helps me become a better writer and also to gauge how many people enjoy or hate my story. Hopefully there are more of the former than the latter.
I don't use reviews as a bartering chip to update. I update when I have time and feel really happy when I see that people are taking the time to read what I have written. Thank you so much and, though I can't promise when the next update will be, I can definitely promise that I'll put my heart and soul into it.
Until next time,
Miki-hime
P.S: Thank you iHeartYou13 for pointing out the confusion with the unknown characters. I hope I cleared it up somewhat...Sorry about that. Me and my pronouns! Oh, and for those of you who may not remember, Dave was the security guard punched by Sawyer for callng Juliet a bitch in chapter 15, "All Along the Watchtower". The only person who remains unidentified is Dave's accomplice/boss.