January 1974
It was unusually silent on the island. The sun was just about to set and there was little to no waves on the horizon. Not even on the beach was there wind, yet Sawyer could still hear the leaves of the palm tree rustle above him as he sat against its bark. The sound was both unsettling and comforting to him as he thought.
Juliet could leave tomorrow and it would be done.
He'd never been nervous to talk to a woman before in his life, not until this. He almost didn't believe it had been two weeks, hell- it seemed like just yesterday Goodspeed was telling them he could stay and look for the "crew". Nevertheless Sawyer knew this moment would come and he'd have to deal with it.
The way he saw it there were really three probable outcomes and only one worked out in his favor. One: he could let Juliet go. This was the easiest and the one he least wanted to let happen. Two: he could make her stay by telling her how he felt and hopefully she felt the same. Three: She would stay because she felt sorry for him. She wouldn't give any indications but he'd be able to tell eventually. He didn't want that.
He talked to her a lot within the first week, when they pretended to be out looking for their supposed shipmates and when they had meals. He just couldn't figure her out. She wasn't exactly cold but definitely not the most friendly person he'd ever met. She was nice when she wanted to be nice, and it wasn't a question of when but rather why. He never knew when or if she'd start talking to him, some days she started a conversation and others she just reacted to his quips. Although he could tell they did have the same dry, somewhat tasteless sense of humor because she smiled when he said something particularly idiotic- and he rarely saw her smile.
Sawyer wasn't used to being thrown for a loop by a woman, not knowing where he stood, and it drew him to her even more despite his frustration. He went back and forth between giving it up or keeping it going. Whatever "it" was. The fact that she was one of the most stunning individuals he'd ever come across didn't exactly drive him away either. Her voice was nice, too. So were her eyes.
He slowly stood up and walked in the direction of the beach. After the first week she started coming up to him on her own and remembering things he had said to her before, the corners of her lips turning up a little bit as he mentioned them again. That made him think she liked him, but the question was how much? And in what way? (And for himself, how did he like her? What did he really want?) Those were questions Sawyer felt uncomfortable not knowing, what made him hesitate to ask her to stay. In order to have a good plan he needed to be sure it would turn out in his favor.
The trouble was that he liked her. More things were at stake here than he anticipated. He liked her on the docks too, but he didn't know her as anyone other than the severe blond woman who'd shoot a man if she had to, and run back in the direction of flaming arrows to save someone beyond saving. Sure she was alluring and undoubtedly evasive but after spending 14 days with her he could tell there was more than what met the eye. He wouldn't be able to get over it if Juliet left the island as mysterious as she appeared to be to him now. And he'd miss talking to her too, even if they never really got anywhere.
As he got closer and closer to the beach, Sawyer picked up a rock in the sand and tossed it from one hand to the other. Not even once had he heard Juliet mention anything about leaving, not since that night. Maybe she thought the less she spoke about it with him the easier it would be. But she still spoke to him. He reached the water's edge, wound up his arm and pitched the rock as far as he could throw.
"Not bad," a familiar voice behind him called just loud enough to be heard over the rising waves. Sawyer turned around slowly, his mind working a mile a minute. The tide's going in. How long had she been on the beach? Had she seen him? "Thanks," he smirked. There she stood at the edge of the last bit of dry sand, just high enough so that the waves couldn't reach her. Her arms were folded and she tilted her head to squint at him. "I'd go down there and throw one myself, but I don't feel like it. Wouldn't want to embarrass you." Sawyer chuckled and started to make his way towards her while Juliet stood and watched, her hair starting to move in the gentle breeze. He had no time to think, only to react. For once in his life he didn't have a course of action.
"I told Horace you were sick," she glanced at him as they both walked along the beach. "Where were you today?" Normally Sawyer would complain about how hot the dry sand was but now he barely felt it. "Sick. Like you said." Juliet shook her head and brushed a stray strand of hair from her eyes. "Hmm." she seemed amused by something, but of what he had no idea. "You know, if anyone should be using up their sick days on this island it's me, but you don't see me complaining." She looked up at the sky and slowed her pace. Now he knew where this was going. Sawyer stopped to face her. "What, you comin' down with something there blondie?" That made her smile, which made what he said next slightly easier to get out. "Cuz you know i'd hate to have to see you have to go back home for meds. Especially when this island has SO much to offer." There was a slight pause, and he saw the crinkles at the ends of her eyes go back to normal, her mouth lose its curve. She looked so somber all of a sudden he felt his stomach drop. They stood there motionless facing each other as the breeze rustling trees around them. Well, fuck. He could see her start to tear up and she tried to turn away from him before he closed the gap between them.
Juliet looked at the ground and then up at him. She searched his eyes and he saw her anguish. "James, I can't." Her voice lost its familiar icy tone, its contained up and down emphasis. She said it so softly he barely heard it. And he was right there. All he kept thinking about is that he'd never been this close to her, she hadn't let him get too close but he was right there. Right there for her. And whatever it was she wanted so badly he wanted-no, he needed to get it for her. Or whatever it was that she had back there, he wanted to make sure she got everything but not without him. All of a sudden he couldn't bear to see that beautiful soul so tortured, all of a sudden the time and work he spent trying to convey a sense of detachment from other people on that damn island and in his life, it went away right there. "Hey, hey hey," he realized he hadn't yet replied so he took his hand from her arm and very lightly lifted her chin up with one finger. Here she gazed at him with a look of-he didn't know how she was looking at him but she wasn't crying anymore and she let him get closer. As much as he wanted to he didn't kiss her and instead moved her hand away from her chest where she was shielding it and into the gentle grasp of his own. She felt so soft and fragile.
He looked into her eyes, and he said the phrase that they had spoken, the words in the future he'd never forget, that haunted his dreams and memories. "I got your back, remember?" And then Juliet started crying, but this time it wasn't because she was sad. She nodded slowly and slid her hand out from under his to reach around and touch it to the back of his neck and hold him to her. She quickly did the same with her other hand and moved closer to him. He didn't move one bit, he didn't even know if he was able to. Then Juliet slowly, very slowly, touched her forehead to his. "Always."