A/N: Yes, yes, I know I've been slow. Aaas usual… Sorry about the wait. And sorry about the fact that when I update, it's with a short-as-hell chapter. ;) Hope you'll like it anyway.

3: Almost As Good

Juliet is still everywhere. It feels weird that he's grieved her for all this time when she's obviously still living with him.

Juliet tiptoes around him to clean up the empty Whiskey bottles that lie scattered around him.

Juliet stands in the kitchen, the frying pans sizzling, the smell of fried potatoes floating softly through the door to the living room.

Juliet sometimes walks up to Sawyer, sits down at his level to show that she understands him, and says that okay, Sawyer, now you have to eat something.

Juliet is everywhere. She's everywhere, but for some reason, he can't be happy about it. It feels sort of like he's been starving, and when he finally gets a plate with a big, juicy steak on it, he takes a bite and realizes that it's all tofu.

Why is she here? Why won't she leave him?

Why can't she either fully leave him or stay with him forever, like she was supposed to?

Sawyer doesn't know. And he can't ask a ghost.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Kate knows that she's supposed to be the one there for Sawyer. That was partly why she came back, she doesn't deny that. But since the kitchen-incident, she's terrified that she's going to try to be there for him, and accidentally draw another one of those… Monsters out of him.

Of course, she knows that it's not that simple. The monster isn't in Sawyer anymore, Sawyer's in the monster. It eats away at him at every given second, that very special part of him, the him, is devoured by it and God knows if he's going to get it back. Because grief is a horrible, horrible thing.

But still, it's amazing what you get used to if you live with it long enough. Kate has learned to live her life by an abusive father, by being a refuge, by living on the island. Every lifestyle creates a pattern. Her life is lived around Sawyer.

He's not really part of her life. He's the elephant in her living room. The elephant with dead eyes and empty liquor bottles spread around him. The elephant can be ignored.

She cleans up around him. She makes him dinner. She places plates in front of him and takes it away when she's forced to accept that he's not going to eat. She sits on the couch next to him and watches TV, breathing through her mouth to get away from the smell of him.

She can ignore elephants. And Wayne. And Sawyer.

She thought she could. But after a while, she starts noticing a change in his behavior.

For starters, he looks at her more often. She's happy about that at first, but then there are these subtle little whispers, probably not meant for her to hear.

She tries to ignore it. Of course he's sad, he's damn near delusional at this point. Him saying her name should be thought of as a sign of improvement.

But he only says it after those rare times when he looks at her. He looks at her, she leaves the room, and then it comes. Juliet…

Such frail letters, doesn't sound like him at all. Like he's speaking a word that's really too big for him to speak, the name of a saint, larger than how pitiful his life is without her. Juliet…

Kate tries to see this out of a purely psychological perspective. There must me a scientific way to decide what's best to do at a time like this. Should she just tell him calmly and sweetly that Juliet's not there anymore, he's going to have to settle for her? That Juliet is dead? Keep ignoring it? Or - okay, this isn't really an option, but still - play along? Pretend to be Juliet?

One night, Sawyer's sitting the way he has for these past couple of days, his back leaned against the couch, his hand still shaped like he was still holding that damn bottle even though it's slipped out of his hand. Kate's sitting on the couch behind him. There's a bluish light from the TV, and a black light from the darkness outside, when the lines are blurred again.

He looks up at her. Kate's holding a cup of tea that she made to calm her fear, and right when the TV-show has managed to catch her drowsy attention, she sees him turning around, looking up at her. His face blank at first, but then something gets ignited in his eyes. Like he's finally seen the light again.

"Juliet."

Kate stares back, her fingers tense around the cup. Doesn't know what to do.

"Juliet."

He stands up to sit down next to her. Dried sweat and sour alcohol is still like a cloud around him, but he's happy. He's so happy that she can't tell him that she's not her.

"Come here, Juliet. Come here."

Sawyer puts his hand on Kate's cheek, she flinches at first and is surprised when she feels the gentleness that's still there under the thin layer of dirt on his fingertips. He softly presses her head against his chest, leans her chin against her scalp. Kate clutches to her teacup, terrified, basically devoured in the stench, but finds that she simply can't pull away.

Sawyer's happy. And he says more than two words for the first time since he threatened to kill her. And she cares too much about him, too hurt to see him like this for the past couple of weeks, to take that away from him.

So Kate keeps her head on Sawyer's chest until he falls asleep a couple of hours later. And when she stands up, as quietly as she can, and sees the hint of a smile on Sawyer's face, god, those dimples, she's missed them so much, before she softly walks out the room, the decision what to do about Sawyer's grief is suddenly made for her.