Red - Part 2
A/N: I skipped the song 'Ronan' out of respect for the family. A little boy lost his fight with cancer, and it didn't feel right repurposing the lyrics here. But it's a great song and I encourage everyone to give it (and this incredible album) a listen!
General warning - this was a breakup album, so not a whole lotta fluffy ones here! :( I'm sorry! #26 is particularly tragic/triggering… So skip it if you need to! But, otherwise I hope you enjoy! And I'd love to know what your favorites were. :)
#16 - Begin Again
Walked in expecting you'd be late
But you got here early and you stand and wave - I walk to you.
You pull my chair out and help me in, and you don't know how nice that is - but I do
It shouldn't have surprised James that Juliet arrived five minutes late. She'd always been that way, even on the island. He'd grown used to it, once. He supposed he was going to have to get used to it again.
She walked in the door of the cafe, tucking a strand of loose blonde hair behind one ear, and looking around with her lip between her teeth. When she found him, her nose wrinkled in the cutest of smiles, and she weaved through the tables to where he was sitting by the window.
"Hi," she breathed, and set her purse down on the table before sitting down.
"Hey," he responded with a chuckle, and reached his hand across the table to give hers a squeeze. "How was work?"
She eyed the menu on the table, her mouth quirked up in the corners. As if just being around him - here, now - was a dream come true. She couldn't stop grinning.
"Fine. Slow, actually."
"So you're late because…" he teased, and she looked up at him briefly, sharply. Caught.
But still her smile never wavered.
"Because I was getting you something," she responded coolly. Before he could ask what it was, their waitress came over to the table. She introduced herself and took their orders: black coffee for him, and chai tea latte for her.
James tapped his fingers on the table. "Well… what is it?" he urged, feigning impatience as the waitress finally left.
Juliet lowered her gaze to her purse and stuck her fingers inside. "It's not funny, now."
"What do you mean?" He stuck out his hand to try and dig into her purse, but she tugged it out of reach.
"Seriously. It was a joke, and you went and ruined it."
His mouth fell open and an indignant huff came out. "The hell'd I do? We've only been here all 'a three minutes!"
Juliet giggled and pulled her purse into her lap. Her whole hand disappeared inside. "Do you want to guess?"
"Hell no, I don't wanna guess. I want my damn present!" he teased, and tapped her foot with his under the table.
She rolled her eyes and leaned back before watching him, eyes alight. "Okay. But I want you to close your eyes first."
He obliged, sighing for dramatic effect. He held out his hand, waiting for something to happen. Then he felt a solid, square box, and his hand dipped down a little from the unexpected weight.
He opened his eyes. In his hand was a black box, just barely bigger than his palm. When he opened it, there was a silver watch inside, with a deep blue wave pattern on the face. His head cocked to the side as he inspected it.
"Turn it over," she whispered, and he could feel her leg jiggling under the table. He obliged, and just behind the watch face was an inscription: J+J.
He looked up at her, stunned. "Juliet, this is… this is really nice. How much - " He didn't even want to guess at how much this cost her. It was gorgeous.
She shrugged nonchalantly, but she beamed all the same. "I was going to make a joke about you being late… both to coffee, and… you know…" She waved her hand around vaguely. "Here, to me. But I don't think that matters now."
He moved the watch gingerly out of its box, too moved for a witty comeback. He'd gotten to the cafe first, hence the ruined joke. But it was more than that. He felt like he'd live two whole lifetimes without her, and that was two too many. He knew what she was getting at.
They were together now. And that was all that mattered.
His throat felt tight, and he struggled to clear it. "I love it. Thank you." He tightened it around his wrist. Though the metal was solid, it still felt cool and comfortably light against his skin.
When he looked up at her, she smiled sadly at him, likely thinking the same thing he was.
He took her hand, his new watch catching a ray of sunlight streaming in through the window. Time wasn't going to keep them apart ever again.
#17 - The Moment I Knew
Christmas lights glisten
I've got my eye on the door
Just waiting for you to walk in
James knew this was stupid. He couldn't believe he was doing it, but there was no going back now. He'd bought the damn thing, he just needed to do it. Then she'd be happy, if only for a little while, and things might not be so glum around here.
He adjusted himself on the bed and scratched his head under the itchy Santa hat. He sighed. She was supposed to leave Amy's after dinner. It was past eight. Surely they were done by now?
He wasn't sure if he had to pee. Shit. What if he got up to pee and that was when she decided to show up?
No. He re-evaluated. It was just nerves. Why was he nervous? Who cared if this was going to be their first Christmas together? They'd been together for six months. Being with her - that was completely natural to him now.
He was starting to get cold. He could tell because his nipples were sharpening and goosebumps were spreading across his skin. It was one of those chilly nights, one they got every so often without rhyme or reason, but he didn't want to put a hoodie on. That would ruin the surprise.
He could get under the blankets. At least for a little while. But no - there it was - movement in the house.
James's heart quickened. For the dozenth time, he checked his list: Christmas lights strung up in the bedroom - check; pine-scented candle burning on the dresser - check; Santa hat - check; red briefs with a belt-printed waistband - check; her present, tucked into the nightstand drawer - check.
He waited with bated breath.
God this was stupid.
Movement down the hallway, soft footsteps - definitely her. The bathroom door opening and closing lightly.
She turned the sink on. James gritted his teeth to keep from groaning. He'd been sitting there, like this, alone and uncomfortable, for 20 minutes. What had he been thinking? He could have at least been reading his book, for Christ's sake! But no. She said what time she'd be over, and he trusted she wouldn't be late.
That was where he'd gone wrong. She was always late. Doctor. Typical.
The faucet turned off. He knew her routine - she had to be done brushing her teeth and washing her face. What came next? Nothing, right?
He sucked in a breath. The door to the bathroom opened. He saw her feet under the crack of the door, pausing just beyond. He wanted to wait for her to come in on her own, but she seemed to be debating if he was asleep. Maybe she thought she'd come too late.
He decided to save himself any more hassle. "In here!" he called out, and bit his bottom lip, smiling with stupid, giddy anticipation.
She opened the door, still clad in the red dress she'd worn to Amy's. She stopped in the doorway, hand still gripping the handle, when her mouth fell open.
It was like she didn't know where to look. The lights caught her attention first, and he could see their tiny yellow orbs reflected in her eyes. And then her gaze flicked to him. Recognition washed over her, and she slapped both hands over her mouth.
"What…?" she said behind both palms, eyes as wide as the moon.
"Merry almost Christmas, baby," he crooned, and flashed her a deep, dimpled smile. But Juliet said nothing in return, and James's confidence evaporated like smoke on a dying log. He suddenly felt very, very exposed. "Is it too much? You just - I thought it would be funny…" Wait, did he set this up to be funny?
Oh my god, what was I thinking? he thought miserably. He sat up, moving to stand, and ripped the hat off his head.
But before he could stand fully, Juliet was barrelling towards him. She wrapped him up in a giant bear hug, tackling him back down onto the bed. Her screeching giggles rang in his ears before she started peppering kisses all over his face.
"You - did this - for me?" she gasped between loud, smooching kisses.
He couldn't help but laugh. "Well, yeah… ya been so moody lately, with it bein' almost Christmas an' all…" He squirmed under her attention, trying to get the words out.
She pulled back, growing more serious. "You did all this - the lights, the candle, the costume - to get me… into the Christmas spirit?"
He nodded, tired of ping-ponging between feeling stupid and brilliant. It was exhausting.
"Ya like it?" he dared ask, arching one eyebrow up at her where she straddled him.
A devious, loving smile bloomed on her face, and she leaned down to plant a firm kiss against his lips. "Why don't I show you my answer instead?"
#18 - Come Back… Be Here
I told myself: don't get attached
But in my mind, I play it back
Spinning faster than the plane that took you
Juliet didn't know why she cared so much. Why, out of all of them, he was the one she was desperate to crack open like an egg. See his yellow yolk of secrets spill out, just for her.
The rain made their clothing cling to their skin, and her arms felt like limp, water-logged noodles, several minutes overcooked. It felt like they had been rowing for days. And hell, maybe they had been.
Her soul felt numb. She might have killed someone. But it was to save him; to save all of them. So it was worth it, right? It would be worth it every time. And she wasn't quite sure why. Certainly, she hadn't grown attached to him. Not to the man that hated her.
She redirected her thoughts by asking him about Kate. Because it always came back to her, didn't it?
He tried to avoid the question. She wouldn't let him. She needed to know.
And he surprised her. He caved. He told her how he really felt, and it made her feel like she'd achieved something. Like he'd shared the infinite secrets of the universe, instead of the obvious: that he was still hung up on her.
Juliet didn't know why that bothered her. Why she felt such burning pride that she alone seemed to have a way inside his walls; a key that lived either in her touch or in her voice. Maybe it was only in her own stubborn persistence. She didn't know how she knew the secret code, but it felt like it was basic instinct. Like it was, for some insane reason, branded into her DNA.
The nosebleed distracted her, but only momentarily. When they moved to make a semblance of camp, and he removed himself from her orbit, she played the conversation over and over and over again.
He trusted her. And she wasn't quite sure what to do with that.
Because she trusted him too, and trust was a dangerous thing.
#19 - Girl at Home
And it would be a fine proposition, if I was a stupid girl
But honey, I am no-one's exception
This I have previously learned
Alcohol does ridiculous, glorious, devastating things to the human brain, and it's all fun and games 'til someone gets hurt.
Like when he looks at you for the fourth time this evening, and the firelight is dancing in his dark eyes. He brings the beer to his lips, and you can't quite catch your breath at the way his tongue darts across the lush, red skin. You feel it burning, hotter than the rum in your belly, and it's almost painful. You have to look away.
But you can't.
It started out with just beers and sodas at the impromptu bonfire. The scientists were celebrating something, it seemed, though Juliet wasn't quite sure what. She would bet James knew, but she wasn't sure she cared enough to ask.
And besides, asking would mean talking to him. It would require her to close the gap, which, right now, was safely filled with people, swaying to the radio someone had brought to the beach. That same someone (Miles), was also the guy who passed her his personal bottle of rum. (Who knew he had a penchant for it like she did? It was always her vice. Her last resort.)
She took it gratefully, needing something - anything - to cope with the way James's eyes kept flicking over to her. One swig for every heated glance. Fire for fire.
God, she wanted him. She wanted to feel the heat of his skin like she felt the heat of the alcohol sliding down her throat. She wanted him to be the one to burn her from the inside out.
But she wasn't sure if he was looking at her the way she wanted, or if it was just the alcohol, dizzying his judgment. And who knew? Maybe he only missed Kate, and that wistful expression was nothing more than absentminded longing, aimed in her general direction. It had only been two months since he'd seen Kate last.
She couldn't possibly know what thoughts were tumbling through his mind, behind those bottomless, unfocused eyes. But she was pretty sure they weren't really of her.
She couldn't take much more of this. Her vision was swimming. She thought maybe his jaw clenched as she leaned forward to set the bottle of rum firmly in the sand. She wondered if, perhaps, he flinched when she stood, dusting the rough granules from her jeans. But she was probably just imagining things.
It was time to call it a night. She didn't need any more delusions about his hard stare and what it could possibly mean.
Because it meant nothing. None of his glances were ever meant for her. She should know this by now.
#20 - Better Man
I know I'm probably better off all alone
Than needing a man who could change his mind at any given minute
It wasn't just one look, Juliet knew. It was a series of glances, like a radar, checking to see if Kate was still within reach. Making sure the revitalized tether between them wasn't being pulled too taut.
Juliet was thrown into her proverbial coffin the moment the group arrived. But there was always that chance that maybe, just maybe, he'd reach down and pull her out. Do something that reminded her, that convinced her, that she was all he had eyes for. That maybe his sudden deception and abandonment when he left her on their bed didn't mean he was running towards the woman he lost, but rather, trying to do whatever it took to keep Kate and the others from ruining what they'd built. That was certainly what she wanted to believe.
But she caught them talking on Kate's porch. Saw the pain in his eyes as he glanced over her, still reeling from the fact that she was back. Even from a distance, she thought she saw some flicker of curiosity she couldn't define, dancing in his eyes; an echo of pain in his stance.
She tried to tell herself that that wasn't the first nail. That he was just stunned, because of course he was. They all were, weren't they? That somehow, across space and time and distance, the group had returned. Defied the odds.
(Just like her and James had, three years ago. Did enemies to lovers ever really happen?)
But if it had, in fact, been the first nail in her death sentence of being buried alive, then the second was his face when he saw Kate descend into the submarine. First, a flicker of confusion, and then… something akin to relief. Maybe he did not, in fact, want to bet on the Cowboys with her.
(Had she bet on the wrong cowboy, too?)
Maybe she should have ignored that look that flashed across his face. Perhaps he'd just been glad to see she was still alive - glad to see another ally, when they were surrounded by captors. Kate was wily; surely she'd have an answer as to how to escape.
Because he turned down Kate's offer, didn't he? Said he'd take his chances in the real world.
But she'd seen his face. He didn't really want to do this. Not really. She knew when he was only doing something because he thought he had to. That begrudging kind of acceptance that he allowed into his voice when he didn't know what else to do. When he sounded the most tired.
And maybe the rest was on her. Maybe she'd pulled back the rest of the lid, settled in against the musty pine and slid into position. Maybe the only reason the final nail drove down so hard was because she'd let it. She'd closed her eyes and done nothing to push back against the fate settling over her like stifling darkness.
But the final nail came. She saw the tortured truth written plainly across his face.
He looked at Kate, but it wasn't just a look.
Clunk.
She'd sealed her fate, and now she was alone.
#22 - Nothing New
And my cheeks are growing tired from turning red and faking smiles
Are we only biding time 'til I lose your attention, and someone else lights up the room?
People love an ingénue
Juliet looked at herself in the mirror, frowning slightly. She turned from side to side, taking inventory of each place where the fabric clung to her body. How her heels shaped her calves, lean and solid, but still soft and feminine. She wasn't used to wearing clothing like this - a red satin dress cut for women far shorter than her, with a back so low she could feel the tickle of the ceiling fan overhead as it blew her hair.
The last time she'd been in the 70s, she'd been a little kid with skinned knees and a tragic bob; with bangs, no less. She hadn't been concerned with showing too much, or not enough, or whether the man she was head-over-fucking-heels in love with would notice her or not. But this, according to Amy, was in-vogue right now, and she wondered why on earth she'd ever dared borrow it.
But she knew why. It was the same reason she'd applied heavy eye makeup and used lipstick for the first time in maybe six years. She wanted - no, needed - to blow him away.
They'd been on two dates; one to the beach (with Miles and Jin in tow) and another to the orientation barbeque for the latest recruits. Neither of which, unsurprisingly, were particularly romantic. And perhaps he didn't really see either of those as 'dates.' (She wasn't sure she did either, but they went 'together,' and god she hadn't dated in years - she forgot the rules.)
But a Christmas party where there'd be dancing and drinking and revelry… well, she supposed this was her chance.
He hadn't kissed her yet. And tonight, she was going to make him want to change that.
—-
She made sure to show up late to the party. It was all about building suspense, she heard. She wanted him to look for her, to wonder about her and where she might be, before actually showing up. It had been a while since she'd been in the game, sure, but she knew that much. Men weren't interested when you threw yourself at their feet. Men liked a little mystery - a code to crack, a prize to win. And looking around the room, seeing the other girls in their red and green and black dresses…
She felt her cheeks burn. They were so young. There were only a handful of women her age or older, and they were all married (or, in Amy's case, widowed).
God, the youth of these girls… She didn't mean to stare. But she found herself searching the crowded room for James anyway, and they kept snagging and distracting her attention. It was hard to spot him when he seemed to fit right in amongst these people, a hippie in disguise. Hell, she didn't even know for sure he was here.
Low-cut dresses. Straight hair. High heels. Juliet looked like she belonged, too, but instead of that giving her peace of mind, it just made her feel… old.
There was no way she looked as good as they did.
"Hey," James breathed, and she felt his rough hand on her elbow. She forced a smile to her face, locking up the self-doubt - suffocating it with her overwhelming love for this man.
There was something dark in his eyes, the way he drank her in. With his hand still on her elbow, he let her see the way his eyes roamed. He let her witness, with no trace of shame, where he lingered - her legs, her chest, her ruby red lips.
Her smile widened, real this time. "Hi," she breathed back, and tried not to tremble as his scent overwhelmed her. As he blatantly mind-fucked her, right in the middle of this crowded room.
"You wanna dance with me, Blondie?" he murmured, his eyes finally landing on hers. He stepped half a step closer to her, his body heat radiating like a furnace.
Her cheeks warmed. It seemed her plan had worked. He only had eyes for her. For now. And she'd do whatever it took to keep it that way.
"Absolutely."
#23 - Babe
I keep picturing her lips on your neck
I can't unsee it
Juliet tried not to show how uncomfortable she was, showing Kate around the motor pool. Bringing her into her space, around her coworkers. It felt strange, like showing the girl from high school she didn't like that much around her home. But she had to do this, if they were ever going to try to blend in.
And she needed them to blend in. She couldn't afford the heartache if this were to all fall apart.
"You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" she asked, and Kate shook her head briefly.
"No, not really."
Juliet breathed in through her nose, tamping down on her irritation. She needed to be friendly. She had no real reason not to, she told herself.
"It's okay... Jack told you about us." It meant to come out as a question, but it ended up sounding more like a statement. From the intense stares coming from Kate all morning, she was certain at this point that there was no way Kate didn't know.
She wondered what Kate thought about it. And more importantly, she wondered why it mattered so much to her. She didn't need Kate's blessing. She hadn't had it in the two years and seven months they've been together. She certainly didn't need it now.
"No. Hurley, actually," Kate corrected, and looked sheepish for having been read like a book. Her nose crinkled, and she pursed her lips nervously.
It drew Juliet's attention to them, full and soft looking. Not as red as her own, but pretty.
"It's kind of a relief, actually. I wasn't quite sure how to do it without it sounding like I was telling you to stay away."
Kate flashed a quick grin, chin tucked down, unaffected. "It's fine," she said, and her mouth kept Juliet's attention.
Quick, rapid-fire, intrusive thoughts flashed like strobe lights in her mind.
James telling Kate he loved her on camera.
The way he'd crushed his lips to hers, locked in the cages she'd helped keep them in.
The dreams he must have had, as he remembered how those lips had tasted.
Where those lips had been - on him.
Hot jealousy crawled up her throat. She had nothing to say to that. It didn't matter that she'd had years with him when Kate had only had months.
James was hers. She knew this.
But Kate will always be the girl who had him first.
#24 - Message in a Bottle
I became hypnotized by freckles and bright eyes, tongue tied
But now, you're so far away and I'm down
James hurled the rock at the ocean, trying to hit the surface with as much force as he possibly could. He wished the dark, churning water was a tangible thing that he could hurt, could punish; but it wasn't, and this was the best he was going to get.
He shivered in the late evening air. With each crashing wave, the briny spray was misting his face; clinging to his hair, his skin. He couldn't tell whether the saltwater he was tasting was the ocean, or something else.
She was gone. He had one chance to say goodbye, one last opportunity to show her how he felt. But what difference would it make? The doc had her now (and hell, maybe he had her all along). And now James was here - alone, in a daze, and spiraling out of control.
This was her fault, he reasoned. Kate's. She made him this way. She shoved her way through his defenses. Made him feel like they were alike, that maybe on some level, she understood him. But it had felt wrong. It felt fake - forced, even. She just wanted to exert control over him, just to prove she could. And he'd let her.
"Hey," called a familiar voice. James didn't turn. He wiped his face with the bottom of his t-shirt and sniffed back the snot threatening to run down his nose.
"Hey," he grumbled back, and hurled another rock.
"What are you doing out here?" she said, her fingers laced together in front of her as she timidly approached him.
He bit the inside of his mouth. He didn't know how to answer that, so he shrugged.
She leveled herself with him, and followed his gaze to the glittering orange sun on the horizon. "It's okay to miss them, James," she said after a moment, as if she were reading his mind. Her kindness knocked the wind out of him. Had anyone else found him crying and brooding like this, they'd hand his ass to him on a silver platter.
"The hell d'you know 'bout missin' anyone," he bit out, because he could. Because he was raging inside, and her melodious voice was smearing a balm on his soul when he hadn't asked her to. She was invading his space, both soothing and irritating him at the same time.
She cut him a look that could break glass. "I know," was all she offered, before she touched his arm with her cool fingers. Icy hot, James thought. Her presence, her touch, was like icy hot, and he wasn't quite sure what to make of that. Why he wanted her to keep her hand there, while simultaneously wanting to wrench it away.
They stood in silence, watching the waves below. A large one crashed over the rocks they were standing on, missing their feet by inches. But she didn't move. She stayed with him, until the last sliver of sunlight created a bruised purple sky above their heads.
And then, just when he was certain she'd finally give up and leave, she put her head on his shoulder. Boldly, bravely, she just… did it.
He was too stunned to shove her off. And if he was being honest… it felt… nice. It was like she'd crawled through the crack under the steel door he'd barricaded himself behind. She didn't bust it down, demanding entrance. She just joined him in this tight, painful space, without saying a word. Surprisingly, it made him feel less… alone. Standing here with her, with Juliet, it felt… right, in a way James wasn't quite sure how to deal with. She wasn't asking him not to be angry; she was here, feeling it with him, facing it with him.
He no longer felt the need to hurl stones. The fury had just… floated up and into the breeze, the moment she arrived.
Now, the only feeling left, like the heaviest stone of all, was the grief. The sadness, hung by a rope, wrapped around and squeezing the life out of his heart. But… he supposed this was better than the rage. Because when he looked down into Juliet's face, he saw the same feelings etched across her face. It reminded him he knew absolutely nothing about her. But he could tell she was haunted too. Which meant maybe she understood him, in a way Kate never truly had.
He sighed. Perhaps this was how he'd survive here. Facing it, feeling it, with her. She had his back, and he'd have hers. Together, they wouldn't be alone anymore.
#24.5 - Message in a Bottle (cont'd)
'Cause you could be the one that I love
I could be the one that you dream of
Juliet watched as James tossed rock after rock into the ocean. She could tell by the tension in his shoulders and the force of his throw that he was upset; angry, even. She didn't know what to do to make it any better. His gaze was fixed out over the horizon, like he was being hypnotized by an invisible force. His longing was almost palpable.
Juliet didn't know how she felt about that. Honestly, she didn't want to feel anything about it. But she did. A longing of her own, perhaps.
He saved her. He cared about keeping her alive, and in one piece, when he didn't have to. He asked her to stay just a few days ago, and it made her feel wanted in a way she hadn't seen coming.
But he didn't want her. She knew that, logically.
But what if, someday, he did? What if someday, he didn't dream of freckles and brown ringlets, but rather pale skin and blonde waves? What if, maybe, she could show him just how much he'd grown to mean to her? Would he pull away, or would he see that forces bigger than either of them just might be pushing them together?
The wind whipped her hair around her face as she forced movement into her legs. She approached him as one would a wounded animal. The look on his face was damn near feral.
"Hey," she said, as softly as she could. She saw his body go rigid, and his shirt lift. She only saw a flash of tan before the fabric was back in place again.
"Hey," he replied, and she barely heard him over the crashing of waves.
She wondered if maybe she was making a mistake. Perhaps she was letting her feelings get the best of her. It was soon - too soon - for him to be ready to be in her company. But he'd sat with her on the dock, hadn't he? He didn't have to ask her to stay, but he did. She just wished she knew what it had meant. She wasn't sure she'd ever really understand him.
She trudged on. "What are you doing out here?" she said, her fingers laced together in front of her as she approached him. She didn't want to startle him, and it was probably best if he knew she meant him no harm.
But he didn't answer. She ambled up next to him on the rocks, shoulder to shoulder, but still he said nothing.
She knew he missed Kate. She'd seen him on the monitors, how he'd loved her. She'd seen the grief in his face, as he'd told her about seeing her in the jungle during the flashes. He'd trusted her with that, and for the first time, it felt like they were no longer enemies. Maybe that was when this stupid crush started.
Juliet didn't know everything, but she did know a thing or two about pain. "It's okay to miss them, James," she said after a moment. She wanted him to know it was okay. She wanted to have his back, like she'd promised.
"The hell d'you know 'bout missin' anyone," he snapped at her, and it stung. But like a wounded animal, she knew she couldn't show him her fear. She needed to face him, head on, if she was ever going to get through to him.
He didn't know about Rachel. She hoped one day she'd have the strength to tell him, but today was not that day. "I know," she assured him, unable to say more. She touched his arm, watching as the tension eased. She kept her hand there, until he fully let it go.
There was nothing more to say, so they watched the last of the sun set behind the ocean. It almost made her smile, seeing the effect of her touch on his anger. It felt so good, knowing she could ease him in a way no one else could. And she got to touch him, like she yearned to do, and maybe that helped them both in some small way.
She put her head on his shoulder, unsure of what else to say. She supposed this was her way of saying thank you. He hadn't pushed her away. He'd let her stay here, with him, until she didn't feel so alone anymore. He made her feel seen. Like maybe she wasn't the only one suffering through this never-ending sensation of feeling adrift; aimless.
They were both haunted by similar demons, and a quiet understanding passed between them as he shifted delicately under her head. He didn't push her away then, either, and butterflies soared in her chest at the victory.
No matter what came their way, Juliet had to believe they'd overcome it. Because she had his back, and he had hers. Together, they wouldn't be alone anymore.
#25 - I Bet You Think About Me
And the girl in your bed has a fine pedigree
And I'll bet your friends tell you she's better than me
Kate wasn't supposed to know them - Sawyer, Juliet, and Jin - so she didn't sit next to them at dinner their first night in… whatever they called this little village. She just walked beside Jack as they loaded grilled hot dogs onto their plates and sat with the rest of the new Dharma Initiates, feeling increasingly anxious and out of place.
This was being treated as a celebration, their first official day on the island, but Kate was feeling far from celebratory. She felt sick to her stomach, being back here.
Her eyes wandered around the grounds. People were clustered in groups of threes and fours, all eating and talking animatedly about god only knew what. Excitement seemed to buzz in the air, creating a low hum of energy. Someone played folksy music on a guitar nearby, and a baby started crying.
Eventually, her gaze snagged on Sawyer's tall, sturdy frame. She watched him pat Jin on the back as the now-shaggy-haired man stood to go get another hotdog. This left Sawyer and Juliet alone, and it stunned Kate how comfortable the two seemed around each other. It was jarring. They'd been mortal enemies when she'd left.
Sawyer chewed with his eyes downcast. Juliet watched him with a strange kind of sadness in her expression. Kate couldn't put her finger on it. She had her lips pursed, like she was holding something back. Her hotdog remained mostly untouched.
Then, Sawyer startled. He pulled the walkie from his side and held it up to his ear. He looked over at Juliet, face hardened. He spoke something into the device before leaning over to whisper in Juliet's ear. She nodded once, a practiced motion, and he squeezed her forearm before walking away.
It was strange, to say the least. To see him touch her with practiced ease. She supposed they must have somehow become friends here, in this place.
In her absence.
She should be glad he'd opened himself up to the idea of having friends. He deserved them. She hoped they treated him better than she had.
She sighed, wondering: But why Juliet? Of all people?
As if reading her thoughts, Juliet offered her a small head nod in greeting. She must have caught her staring. Kate pursed her lips in a small, polite smile back. She wished Sawyer hadn't left. She wanted to talk to him. But she supposed she couldn't, not around all these people. She'd have to wait til tomorrow; maybe then she'd be able to get him alone.
—
The next day, Kate woke up with every intention of seeking out Sawyer after breakfast. But he was nowhere to be seen, and she didn't have it in her to make Jack sit by himself.
When Hurley told her about Sawyer and Juliet being… more… It pulled the rug out from under her feet. She looked down at her breakfast, reevaluating everything she'd seen since they'd arrived. She picked apart every word choice Sawyer had used, everything he hadn't said.
She had no answer for why her stomach was clenching, hot and topsy-turvy. Why she felt… jealous, almost. But most of all, she wondered why he hadn't told her himself (and why she felt like he owed her anything).
She didn't know if it was because the two of them were living the life she should be living right now, or if it was because Sawyer always lived in the back of her mind. He was her safe space, in a way. For some unknown reason, she felt like no matter what happened, she'd always have him.
Before Hurley could go back to the kitchen, Kate called after him. She shot Jack a quick, nervous glance before moving to head over to where Hurley hovered by the door, his brows furrowed in question.
"You don't seem too bothered by this, Hurley," Kate said, keeping her voice low.
Hurley's eyebrows tightened. "What do you mean?"
She scoffed. "Isn't it, you know, weird?"
"Weird? Dude, I'm sure they've probably been through a lot together in the last few years. I've seen weirder."
Kate shook her head, not knowing how to put this into words. "She was one of them." But she could see Hurley didn't feel the same way. How could he? Kate thought. He wasn't the one Juliet had locked in a cage. He wasn't the one who'd been handcuffed to her.
He smiled sympathetically at her. "Kate, he's with someone else. And they seem happy. You gotta just, ya know, move on." He patted her once on the shoulder, like how she'd seen Sawyer pat Jin. Sawyer never would have done that, once upon a time. He seemed different here.
Kate's face burned. Suddenly she didn't care so much about leaving Jack to eat alone. This was a lot to digest, and she needed some time to regroup before she met Juliet at the motor pool.
She left the cafeteria, unconcerned with her forgotten breakfast. It hurt, knowing she not only lost Jack, but Sawyer too.
She didn't go find him like she wanted to. If he wanted to talk to her, he'd find her. And when he did, she'd try and do as Hurley said, she supposed.
She needed to truly let him go.
#26 - Forever Winter
He says he doesn't believe anything much he hears these days
He says, "Why fall in love, just so you can watch it go away?"
He spends most of his nights wishing it was how it used to be
He spends most of his flights getting pulled down by gravity
James knew it wouldn't work, but he did it anyway. He had unlimited miles, lifetime guarantee. (It wasn't his fault he hoped that lifetime was short.)
First, he flew to New Zealand. It felt appropriate, as it was the closest he'd come to ever going back to Australia. He'd been kicked out of the Lamp Post only days earlier, admonished for his persistent efforts. "It didn't work for Jack, and it certainly won't work for you," she'd said, but James didn't listen.
He landed safely.
He flew every month to somewhere new. Fiji. Japan. Indonesia. His flight to India was particularly rocky, but he'd merely held on, breathed deep, and pictured her face in his mind.
But then they'd landed safely.
Kate tried telling him this wasn't healthy, but she stopped trying a long time ago. Said she'd dealt with this with Jack, and she wasn't about to deal with it with him too. He didn't blame her. He didn't want her on his ass, anyway.
Upon the first anniversary of getting off the island, James had had enough. He'd seen no one, heard from no one, in months. No one else wanted to help him get back. They'd all moved on with their lives, but how could he?
His life was buried on the island. The island where, he'd heard, ghosts ran rampant.
Maybe he could be a ghost there too, and they could live together again.
He wasn't sure. But first, he needed to get back. He never should have left.
At four a.m. that Tuesday evening, he broke into the church. Just add it to my list of offenses, he thought bitterly as he shoved his hand through the glass. Somewhere inside, an alarm blared. But he'd be quick. He knew where he was going.
He rushed downstairs, thankful that Eloise was nowhere to be found. He whipped out his phone, taking pictures of everything in the room. He stuffed her notes and even her laptop into his bag, and was sneaking out the back door before the cops arrived. He knew they wouldn't rush over to a church being burglarized. What could possibly be valuable in there?
It took him almost a month to sift through the notes. To look up every word he didn't know, to set up alerts for all the possible flights headed in that direction.
And then he found it. Or rather, he found a date with three question marks behind it, and below it was a bearing. This was it. Six months. He had six months.
And then he could finally go home.
It wasn't hard, getting his pilot's license. And it was even easier, asking Kate for the money to buy a plane. (She thought he was buying a small house in the Maine wilderness, but she didn't ask questions either.) Perhaps she didn't want to know. He'd be out of her hair soon, anyway.
At night, he talked to Juliet. He told her he loved her. He told her he missed her. And he told her he was coming.
On the date in question, he went through everything in his mind, over and over and over again. He packed anything that could be useful on the island: machetes, guns, rations, books. He brought her favorites, of course. Just in case.
But in his rush to leave, in his impatient haste, he forgot the maintenance on the fuel gauge. He'd been meaning to get it fixed, but the only thing that mattered was making this window. This would be his last chance, he was sure of it.
He didn't question it when his engine began to fail. He popped an ambien and embraced it. He'd be there soon, he told himself. And they could be together again.
His stomach lurched into his throat, but he held the plane aloft for as long as he could.
When it fell into a free-fall, he smiled, despite the pressure squeezing his skull.
He was almost home.
—-
Eloise Hawking read about James Ford's plane crash in the news. They called it a suicide, but she knew better.
He'd gotten her notes. She was sure it was him, who'd broken into the Lamp Post. A part of her felt guilty for leaving the note there, but she couldn't risk the Ajira incident happening again. All those lost souls… they'd been her fault. She'd given that information freely, and everyone on that plane…
She shoved it down, deep inside her. The pain. The grief. And she sipped her coffee, turning off the television.
#27 - Run
And run, like you'd run from the law
Darling, let's run - run from it all
We can go where our eyes can take us
Go where no one else is
She'd agreed to two weeks. It had been a reasonable request, James figured, and it hadn't been too hard to convince her. But now that two weeks was up, and they'd accomplished nothing. Locke wasn't back, and they'd found absolutely no one out in the jungle.
James wasn't sure he'd felt this hopeless in a long, long time.
"Now what?" Miles asked, and it was a valid question. They sat around their shared living room, the only sound in the dead of night was Dan munching on an apple, and even then, he was trying to do so quietly.
"I've been trying to leave this island for three years," Juliet said softly. She looked down at her hands, resting in her lap. "I can't take much more of this."
"But Sun!" Jin called, urgent and fearful. "We need our own time. We need - "
"It's not that simple, man," Daniel said, his voice attempting to be soothing. But Jin wasn't listening.
"I stay here! I stay, til I see her!" He rose from his seat and paced the room. His energy was making everyone more on-edge than they already were.
"Alright," James finally barked. "Look. I dunno what's right or wrong here, okay? I ain't the expert, and I ain't the leader." Juliet's eyes darted curiously to him, the first eye contact she'd made with him since their kiss in the jungle two days ago. James sighed. "Okay, fine. I don't wanna be the leader, then. But, we gotta do somethin', okay? They said point-blank - we can either stay or we can go. Clearly, not all of us agree."
Miles scoffed. He tossed back the rest of his beer. "What was that motto again?" he said flatly, and James felt his fists tighten of their own accord.
"Fuck that. We can't pick somethin' that's gonna work for everyone. It's either stay or go. Real simple."
"We could always put it to a vote," Dan suggested, and rose to toss his apple core in the trash bin. When he returned, he slumped back into his seat like he suddenly weighed a thousand pounds.
James looked to Juliet. He always did, these days, when he needed to make a decision. She seemed to be his voice of reason. He wasn't sure when that had started happening.
"We can't force anyone to do what they don't want to do, even if they're outvoted," she suggested, her mouth twitching in the corners under the weight of James's pleading stare. She always seemed to say what he couldn't, sometimes.
"So we only got one choice. Every man for themselves." He shot Miles a dirty look. "Motto be damned. This ain't fun and games. God only knows how long we're stuck here, and I sure as hell don't wanna spend my life based on 'majority rules.'"
"So you'd rather separate instead?" Miles asked incredulously. He shifted in his seat.
"Ya got a better plan?" James reacted, throwing his hands in the air.
Everyone was quiet for a long moment. Then, Juliet said, "James is right. We all have different feelings about this, and it's only fair to make this important decision based on whatever is best for you, and you alone. We can't leave our fates in someone else's hands. Not anymore." She nervously smoothed down her hair and sat back. Her cheeks were pink, and James felt his chest squeeze from her support. He could always count on her, it seemed. It was weird - he was used to not being able to count on anyone, and now he had her, always in his corner, always having his back.
He liked it. He liked it a lot.
"It doesn't matter what we do," Dan sighed. "Whatever we do, is whatever we did."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Miles grumbled. He looked over at Jin, who had stopped pacing and was resting one palm on the top of his head in anxiety. "I don't mind it here. I wanna stay." Jin turned and shot him a grateful look. It made James feel slightly better, knowing that if he left, he wouldn't be leaving Chewie all alone.
"I think I can be transferred to their headquarters, in Ann Arbor. If so… I might be able to figure this out. How to get us back," Dan suggested with a frown.
"How long'll that take?" James asked.
Dan shrugged. "Weeks. Years, maybe. I can't say for certain."
Again, a hush fell over them. James turned to Juliet. "Blondie? What's your decision?"
Juliet bit her lip. He could see the gradient in her eyes changing, from white to red. She was struggling, clearly not passionate about either decision.
Everyone stared at her, waiting, until finally she whispered, "I have to go."
It felt like a dagger to his heart, and he didn't know why. There had been something between them lately, something James couldn't define.
He really thought she'd stay. For him.
"You're the only one who hasn't said, man," Miles quipped. He scratched his eyebrow, and leaned back. "Guess you'd be the tiebreaker."
James felt his stomach burning. He hated having all eyes on him. He hated being the leader. But it all came down to this. He could either make everyone stay, make everyone go, or let everyone decide for themselves. He wanted the latter, he'd said so already, but he didn't realize the group would be so divided.
He wanted to stay. He wanted to find a way back to their time, and get back home.
But to what? Kate was probably off with the doc by now, if they were even still alive. And, for all he knew, he was wanted for murder. Ain't no way he could be a father, especially not from prison. (Didn't do it the first time, wouldn't do it the second, either.)
There was no right answer.
His eyes sought Juliet's. It was like they were conditioned to do so by now. He wanted her to tell him what to do.
Her cheeks darkened beneath his gaze, and her blue eyes stood out so wide and so stark against her soft pale skin.
(He knew it was soft. He'd held it under his hands, just days ago, when his lips had found hers like a homing beacon. He'd held her delicately, like she'd break like a porcelain doll in his too-rough hands if he didn't. But she'd dug her nails into his hips with a vigor he hadn't been expecting, and it was all he'd thought about since.)
The thought of not seeing this through felt catastrophically wrong inside. Maybe this was what Danny-Boy had been talking about. Maybe they were always meant to happen.
If she could stay for him, then he could go for her.
"I'm goin'," he said, his voice low but confident. "Ain't nothin' for me back there." Juliet let out a sharp, relieved breath. He could feel something change in the room at his admission. A hush fell over them, and it felt important - momentous.
"Well, I guess that settles it then," Miles said, and tossed his beer can in the trash and headed back to his room. James wasn't sure what he meant by it, but he'd touch base with him tomorrow. Jin went outside, likely for a walk, and Dan followed Miles down the hall.
James's heart thudded in his ears as he waited for Juliet to say something. She rose to join him on the couch after several long, quiet seconds, and the blood rushing through his body made him feel dizzy.
She sniffed, seemingly overcome, and laced her long fingers through his. "Are we doing this?" she whispered gently, staring down at their conjoined hands.
What a big fucking night this had turned out to be. He hated making decisions, but somehow… this one didn't feel so hard to make.
"What d'ya say, Blondie? Wanna run away with me?" He tossed her a sidelong smirk, knowing full well his dimples were on display like a prized trophy.
She lit up, not unlike the stars in the night sky outside. His heart thudded as he waited for her to reply.
"Absolutely," she said.
#28 - The Very First Night
I wish that we could go back in time
And I'd say to you: I miss you like it was the very first night
Juliet loomed over him, skin aglow from the moonlight filtering in through the window. Her breasts swayed as she rocked, and she tilted her head back with her eyebrows drawn together.
He'd missed so much with her. It was a paralyzing thought, realizing he'd somehow lived his entire life without her. (Though how much of a life had it been, really, without her there?)
Her cries echoed through the room, and James knew his cue. They'd been playing this game for years, and he knew the rules inside and out. (He knew her inside and out, too.)
He rolled her over, pinning her to the mattress. He knew what kind of mood she was in tonight. She didn't want him to be gentle; he could tell by the way she reached up and tugged on his hair. (He hadn't yet told her how the grief had turned his hair dark brown, when he'd lost her. Like leaving the island meant leaving all sunlight behind, causing his hair to be flat and dull til the white started creeping in.)
She locked her legs around his lower back, and he rocked her into the headboard. She threw up a hand to hold herself steady, but they could be as loud as they wanted tonight, with David at Jack's. (He'd never tell her, but these were his favorite nights. When it was just the two of them, and he could pretend, for just a little while, that this was their real life, and not something… after.)
He cried out as he came, and so did she. They were sweating and panting and flooded with the most glorious oxytocin. (He was addicted. He wished they sold this shit in stores.)
When he collapsed beside her, she reached out a hand, half-heartedly groping the nightstand to find her phone. She checked it, as she always did, to make sure she hadn't been paged.
"God, that was something else," she panted, and smiled wide with her eyes closed.
He swallowed, and propped himself on one elbow, looking down into her flushed face. "Remember the first time?" he asked, and he hoped she did.
"Feeling nostalgic?" she teased, and licked her lips, her eyes glinting with mischief. Soon, she would probably want to go again.
He sighed through his nose. Even here, now, she was different. She was missing scars. She had tiny wrinkles beside her eyes that he didn't remember before. She had an incision just above her pubic bone from her own cesarean, with David.
He didn't know how to answer her question. He was always nostalgic. They should have grown old together, the two of them. And he will never not wish he'd done things differently. Even if they'd ended up here, somehow, together. He wanted two lifetimes with her, not just one.
"I missed you, ya know," he murmured. Usually he kept these things to himself. He knew it brought her down when he brought it up.
"I know," she sighed, and ran her thumb across his cheekbone. "I missed you, too."
"I wish we hadn't waited so long, ya know?" he diverted, as he always did when his chest ached like this. He shouldn't dwell, he shouldn't linger. He had her now.
"I know," she agreed again. But then she gave him a small, sad smile. "We could have had another six months together."
He remembered how it felt, being around her every day. Wanting to fuck her so hard, he forgot his own name. But he couldn't. He didn't think she saw him that way, and he was too chickenshit to put himself out there yet again. Not when he wasn't what she deserved.
Little did he know, she thought those same thoughts about him.
When they'd finally come together, it was like a tornado had passed through the room. Clothes were strewn about, the nightstand had been knocked over, and he's pretty sure a few of the springs in his mattress never quite recovered from the onslaught. Something had broken open inside his chest, and nothing had been the same after that.
"I think the whole village heard you shouting," Juliet teased again, and nuzzled her face into his neck.
He chuckled, despite his melancholy. "They probably thought I was murderin' ya," he conceded, and laid his cheek on the top of her head, feeling smug. His arms clutched her more tightly to his chest.
"I couldn't look Miles and Jin in the eyes for days."
James laughed, not knowing that part of the story. "I wanna ask 'em if they knew, next time we see 'em."
"Absolutely not, James. You're never bringing that up again."
"Why? It's funny!"
Juliet snorted. "How is getting railed so hard you can hardly sit down the next day funny?"
Another laugh bubbled out of him. He hadn't known that either. "Fine. Just, ya know, anytime you're lookin' to go back in time… you let me know."
Juliet sighed, her breath warm against his skin. "I don't need to. I know… I know it was hard for you - after. But this life with you? It's all I ever wanted. I have everything I need, right here." She snuggled closer to him, as if making her point. She slid her thigh between his thighs and rubbed his back in long, soothing strokes.
He supposed she had a point. There wasn't a whole lot he'd change about this specific reality. He wasn't terribly fond of her and Jack being married once upon a time, but it had only been a couple years. David was a good kid, and so far, not much like his father.
And besides, someday soon he'll go off to college or whatever, if aging even happened in this place, and it would be the two of them, forever.
For once, James realized, he was perfectly content right where he was. As long as he had her, he didn't need anything else.
When her hand started wandering, lower and lower, James knew it was time for round two. She'd want to go slow this time, and he was okay with that.
(He knew her by now. He knew the rules.)
#29 - All Too Well (10 Minute Version)
'Cause in this city's barren cold, I still remember the first fall of snow
And how it glistened as it fell
I remember it all too well
James awoke to the popping of a dying log in the fireplace. He felt himself flinch, dreaming of gunfire. But they were safe. They weren't on the island anymore.
The cabin came into focus as he blinked his eyes, all russet-colored wood and paintings of animals hanging on the walls. He breathed in deep, remembering where he was.
Juliet was no longer in his arms on the plush rug. The blanket was strewn around his hips, and his torso was chilly from the fire sputtering out. He raised himself up on his hands and looked around, still bleary-eyed and half-drunk.
She was wrapped in a thick robe, her blonde hair mussed and flowing down her back. 'Sex hair,' he called it, and it was his favorite on her. Not because it was evidence of the way his fingers wove through, tugging as they went, but because it looked the most natural. She always looked the most relaxed, when her hair looked like that.
He'd seen a lot of that hair, since they'd been in Utah.
"What's on the TV?" he called, and rooted around for his sweater. He found it tucked into the couch cushion and pulled it on. His boxers, which were lying precariously close to the dying flames, came second.
She turned once to look at him, and the look on her face made his heart race. "Come look," she said softly, and turned back to the window. He put a pot of water on the stove to boil before tracking down his sweatpants and socks. The cabin was cold. He was going to need to start the fire again.
When he reached her, she slid an arm around his midsection and hauled his body close to hers. She clung with a kind of desperation that always burned his chest from the inside out.
He followed her intense stare out the large bay window. It was hard to see through the darkness, but he was pretty certain it was snowing outside.
He hadn't seen snow falling in… well… a long time.
"It's snowing," he heard himself say, the awe in his voice elongating the word. He leaned in closer, captivated.
"I know. It started maybe a half hour ago," she said, shaking her head lightly. "I can't bring myself to look away."
It was how he felt about her, sometimes - struck so deep down in his soul that they'd survived the island and made it home. That through it all, they'd made it, and best of all, they'd made it together. (A vacation had been his idea. Some place cold and in the mountains had been hers.)
In the kitchen, the kettle whistled. He kissed the side of her face before reluctantly pulling away. He fixed them two steaming cups of instant hot chocolate (they'd already drank all the tea) and brought her one of the mugs. She accepted it with a grateful smile, and blew on the liquid before taking a small sip.
Then, in a strike of brilliance, James turned the small black love seat around to face the window instead of the fireplace. He grabbed the blanket by the fireplace and settled it over them as she giggled, impressed with his ingenuity. She snuggled close to him, pulling the rich hot chocolate to her lips, and James was positive he never loved her more than he did in this moment.
He wasn't quite sure how much time passed, but after their drinks were gone, he discarded the mugs on the floor beside them. Juliet fell asleep with her cheek pressed against his chest, her lips falling partly open.
Eventually, the sun began to rise, and James watched the glittering golden rays light up the freshly fallen snow. Each snowflake was washed in a reddish orange glow, and it felt like magic, this moment. Something he hadn't experienced in far too long.
He didn't want her to miss a moment of it.
"Juliet," he murmured, and she stirred. Her eyebrows furrowed, and for a second James felt guilty. Maybe he should have let her sleep. But then, she opened her eyes, squinting against the sudden light.
"Ohmuhgosh," she mumbled, and sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She leaned forward, drinking in the sight before her.
"Happy anniversary, baby," James whispered, the date burned forever in his mind.
Juliet's eyes were watering as she turned to look at him over her shoulder. Now the sunlight cast a halo around her beautiful, blonde locks. She bit her lip, and James didn't need words to know she was grateful. To be here, with him. To see this. (It had been far too long for her, too.)
"Happy anniversary," she whispered back, and the love he felt for her shined brighter than the rising sun.