In Shallow Seas We Sail

Author's Note: Very short chapter, just letting you guys know that I'm still alive, and still going on with this story. I didn't know when else I would get to update…classes start tomorrow, and I have been busy with a lot of stuff on campus for the last few days. I'll also be away this weekend on a school trip. So, what I'm trying to say is, I don't know when I'll update again, but I will, I PROMISE. And I won't make you wait too long. Leave me lots of reviews for this chapter and maybe I'll make you wait even less! =)

Enjoy,
Sara

*

You feel like you're waiting for somebody to
remind you of all the things that you're supposed to do.
Careful what you reach for, one more step and you're falling through.
Can't Stop the Killer

[12]

"War?" Sawyer repeated, not quite grasping the word – but it didn't matter anyway, whatever this war was, Juliet was in the middle of it.

"So I understand," Locke replied. Sawyer was growing more and more tired of his cryptic replies, and that ominous twinkle in his eye. The man was totally into this. He wasn't going back to the island for anyone but himself.

Hurley fidgeted in his seat. "So, um. What's next?"

"We break you out, and get a move on to the others," Sawyer answered, daring Locke or Jack to go against what he was saying.

"That won't be necessary, James," Locke said. "At least, there will be no need to 'break Hugo out.' He's already been released into my custody."

Sawyer stared at him. "How'd you swing that one?"

Locke smiled. "You're not the only one who knows a few tricks."

It wasn't worth arguing over. Locke had his ways, just as Sawyer had his. He could care less what Locke had done to get Hurley released into his custody. Fact was, he was happy about it, because at least now they could get a move on.

"Well, what are we waitin' on?"

Silence befell the room. Though Sawyer had uttered the question, he already knew what they were waiting on…another sign, something to move them forward, to tell them where to go. The four men studied each other's faces.

"We can go to my apartment," Jack said, "When Kate was…channeling Jacob, he said something like, seek and you will find."

"So you think if you seek at your apartment, Jin, Sun, and Sayid will be shacked up there, waitin' on ya?"

Jack looked at Sawyer coolly. "No, but do you have a better idea?"

"Yeah, I'll call Jin."

"Okay, we'll set up camp on the side of the street while you do that." Jack shook his head. "Sawyer, we'll go to my apartment and we'll discuss all this."

"I've had enough discussion! Why can't we just move?"

Locke spoke up, "This is a game, James. We can't make a move without thinking it through first."

Shoulders falling in defeat, Sawyer muttered, "Obviously."

*

Jack fumbled with the keys to his apartment. His mind was working a million miles a minute; he had no idea what to do next, but he had to think of something. One more delay and Sawyer would be out the door, with or without a plan.

Locke wheeled in after him, and Hurley plopped down on the couch with a sigh. Sawyer shut the door with a little too much force and remained standing.

"What now?" Sawyer said, pacing.

Jack crossed the room, as if drawn by an invisible force, and pushed the button on his blinking answering machine. "Three new messages," it announced.

"Are you serious?" Sawyer roared. "You can't be checkin' your Goddamn messages at a time like this!"

Jack stared at him. His hand hovered over the button; it did seem pointless, checking his messages, as if Jacob had called him and left further instructions. Still, he couldn't quite bring himself to end the messages.

"Jack – Jack Shephard." The voice from the answering machine paused. "This is…Sayid. A man, the man from…from Nadia's accident. I remember him. He told me to contact you immediately. He said you remembered." Another pause. All four men in the room stared intently at the machine. "I'm in LA. Call me back," Sayid's voice said and rushed through his phone number. Jack jotted it down quickly.

Jack listened only to the first few seconds of his remaining messages before he deemed them unnecessary. He turned to the others. Sawyer stared at him. Hurley sipped his glass of water, eyes on the floor. Locke sat, smiling, as if he'd known all along this would happen.

"Call him back," Sawyer insisted.

Jack nodded and punched Sayid's number, and Sayid answered on the first ring. "Jack," he said, breathless.

"Yeah. Sayid…what's going on?"

"I could ask you the same question. I woke up two days ago with a set of memories that did not make sense, but they were all true. This man, he told me that my memories were true – I remember the nuclear bomb, the core. It worked."

"Yes, it worked, but now – "

Sayid cut him off. "We have to go back, I understand. The man told me that if I did not go back, everything would still happen – the accident, Nadia…she would still be killed. We may have erased those years, but we cannot change what happens – not unless we go back."

"It doesn't make sense, Sayid," Jack replied. He eyed the room's occupants, all of whom were now looking at him intently.

"We must end this, once and for all. We must confront the island instead of running away from it."

*

The front door scratched the floor as it opened, and she jumped out of the bed where she had been resting in a sort of stupor. She heard Ben move around her living room and finally settle somewhere. He called, "Juliet," as if he owned the place.

She looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, disheveled, makeup wiped away. It didn't matter, she had no one to impress, but Ben would prey on her weakness. She had to remain strong. Quickly, she smoothed her hair and tied it in a pony-tail.

She entered the living room where he sat, smiling warmly. "Aren't you going to offer me something to drink?" he asked.

She almost did, out of quick habit, but instead, she chose to sit in the room's armchair.

"You look a little worse for the wear, Juliet. Isn't the move treating you well?"

"I'm doing fine, thank you." Her words were quick, clipped.

"Good to hear. You'll get used to it again, if you have to stay long."

She picked up quickly on his misuse of words, whether he meant it or not, he didn't seem to notice. "If?"

Ben shifted. It seemed obvious that he hadn't meant to let that slip, or otherwise, he was making her think that. "Oh yes, it all depends."

"On what?" she asked, edging closer to the edge of her seat.

"Aren't you going to ask me how my meeting went?"

"On what?" she demanded.

He appeared to be taken aback. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

She sat back, in silent but forceful rebellion. She didn't repeat her question – it would only add to his satisfaction. But what did he mean? It all depends. She had only one logical answer…it all depends on the island. It's always about the island. And this time there seemed to be a chance that she wouldn't be staying on the island long.

But to her, it seemed that if the island ceased to hold her, she would cease to exist.