Chapter 4
A/N: Sorry for the tremendously long wait. At first I ran into some plotty issues I needed to work out (thanks Finneganhart and eponine119!) and then it was just plain old procrastination. Whoopsie. But I hope you enjoy!
—-
TWO WEEKS AGO
James awoke to his mouth dry and the ghost of another fevered apology on his lips. He blinked against the early morning sunlight burning his eyes, and instinctively reached his hand out for Juliet.
She wasn't there. Again.
He thought back to last night. How she'd made him feel both shitty for leaving her to deal with the consequences of his decision and also astounded by the way she'd read him so clearly, without him having to say a word. She knew he'd been beating himself up, all damn day, and she'd forgiven him for what he'd done. He wasn't sure he'd have done the same, in her shoes.
(But he would. He'd forgive her for anything.)
He rose from the bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The floor creaked under his feet, and he could faintly smell coffee wafting from the kitchen. It calmed him, knowing she was still here. He didn't know if he'd ever stop expecting her to leave him, for all the stupid things he'd done.
(He would have left him, if he was her.)
After slipping into pajama bottoms, he shuffled out to the kitchen, where he found Juliet sitting at the dining room table doing a puzzle. It felt so… normal. James almost wondered if he'd imagined it all.
If only.
"What're ya doin'?" he asked, his voice still deep from sleep.
She looked up at him and smiled sweetly. "Hey." She paused, looking contemplative, and then continued. "I wonder… Do we need to get your eyesight checked?" She paused again for effect. "This is something people call a puzzle."
James folded the nearest kitchen towel and playfully swatted her arm with it, causing her to drop the puzzle piece she was holding. A maniacal giggle bubbled out of her, and he couldn't help it - he put his lips on the side of her neck and gave her a loud, smooching kiss. She shrieked, and he ruffled her bedhead as he walked away.
"Smart ass," he grumbled through his grin, and plopped down next to her a moment later with a cup of coffee.
"Well, when you ask silly questions, you get silly answers," she responded, sounding like a teacher James had in elementary school. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"You know that ain't what I meant," he murmured, and pulled in a long sip of coffee. The first taste he'd had in… well, weeks, probably. It was a tad stale, and colder than he'd expected. She must have been up a while.
She shrugged, as if that answered his question. Both the one he asked, and the one he didn't. "Sleep well?" she asked, a faint smile tugging up the corners of her mouth. The sex had been… it had been more than James had bargained for. Her energy level had been unusually high, and for the first time ever, she'd outlasted him. (Though, he was still a man of honor. He made sure she went to bed satisfied.)
His mouth puckered into a coy smile. "Fine'n dandy, 'til I woke up and you weren't there." He tried to read her body language, but she looked normal, but in his head, something wasn't right. There was something off with her, and he didn't know what the hell it was. It killed him, a little bit, to know that she could read him better than he could read her. They felt like equals, in every other area of their relationship, but now it seemed the tide had turned, and not in his favor.
She shrugged again. "I'm sorry. I couldn't sleep, so I decided to come out here and do a puzzle." For the first time, he looked down to inspect her progress. She had to have been working on this for at least a couple hours. She had the entire border done, and the top corner section filled out.
His stomach soured. "We gonna talk about this?"
She cocked her head to the side, as if she didn't understand the question. "Talk about what?"
He scoffed. "This. You know what."
Juliet pursed her lips, and put the puzzle piece down. She folded her arms across her chest. "If you want to speak your mind, James, I'm all ears."
He felt anger begin to simmer, just behind his ribcage. Why was he the only one concerned about this? Why was he the only one who realized how big of a fucking deal this whole thing was?
"You seem oddly calm about all this, Juliet," he accused, and leaned back in his chair, crossing his own arms. "You should be pissed."
Her eyebrows narrowed in confusion. "You want me to be angry? I don't understand."
"I just - I want you to talk to me!"
Juliet scoffed. "I am, James. This is me, right now, talking to you. And I was perfectly content, doing my puzzle, until you came storming in here, trying to pick a fight."
"I ain't pickin' a fight, Juliet, I just want…" He sighed angrily. He didn't know what he wanted. He didn't want to try to read between the lines, he supposed. He just wanted to know where they stood, and what was going through her mind. He wanted to know, with some degree of certainty, that he hadn't… broken her. "I just wanna know why you're so damn calm," he finally said, his hands clenched into frustrated fists. He'd had several days to come to grips with his new reality, but she'd had less than 24 hours.
Her jaw tightened. "What other option is there? To panic? What good would that do?"
"At least if you were panickin', it'd make more sense, given what's goin' on."
"And what would you do then?"
He shrugged, wondering if she'd just boxed him into a corner. "I dunno. Try'n help."
"Like the last time you tried to help?" she bit out, and there it was. Just under the surface, there it was. Finally. The blame. He knew it lived in there somewhere. "I'm sorry," she said, sucking in a breath, her eyes wide. "I didn't mean that."
"Yeah ya did," James muttered, and rose to dump his coffee in the sink. It was too bitter for his tastes. She couldn't be okay with what he'd done to her. She just couldn't. (She shouldn't. Because he wouldn't be.)
"I didn't, James. I'm not mad."
"I dunno, Juliet, I think I'd rather you be mad like ya should be, than whatever this is." He waved his hand towards where she sat at the table. She looked stricken, and he wondered what the fuck he was even doing. What good this could possibly accomplish. Hadn't he just wanted her to be happy? And now it seemed she was, and he just… couldn't trust it? All because he felt he didn't deserve to get off so easily?
She pursed her lips together and stood, eyes never leaving his. "Okay, fine. I'm a little upset, a little confused - sure. But I'm also grateful. And awed. And so, so in love with you. It made for a very confusing day yesterday."
So she was still frustrated from yesterday, then. That he'd left her to deal with this news alone. He hadn't meant to, or at least, he hadn't thought he was doing that at all. He'd been selfish. Again. "I tried tellin' ya I was sorry, but ya jumped me and I couldn't get much out after that!"
Her cheeks pink, Juliet nodded vehemently. "I know. I guess I was just… trying to deal with it myself, too."
James ground his teeth and walked over to where she stood, her chair pushed back. He put his hand on her elbow. "I just wanna deal with this, whatever the fuck this is, together."
"I know. I do too."
"This is… a lot. Yesterday was… a lot." He looked down, unable to meet her gaze, and lowered his hand. "I'm sure it was a lot for you, too."
She took his hand, and his shoulders slumped. He felt like a deflated balloon - spent, shriveled, and cradled in her hand. "I don't know what to do," he admitted, and was soon enveloped in her whole warmth as she wrapped her arms around him.
"I don't know what we can do, James. I told you - I've accepted the fact that I would never see my sister again. To lose all hope like that… It was hard, but I've learned to appreciate my life now. With you. Because of you." She pulled away, holding onto his upper arms and looking up into his face. Her expression was grave, and it occurred to James then, and only then, how blind he'd been. She'd resigned herself to this fate. That was why she'd been so calm this morning. It didn't matter that she hadn't chosen it. She'd never once had a choice in anything concerning the island, had she? Not an informed one, anyway. The only thing she seemed to have picked on her own accord had been him (and even after three years, he still didn't understand why she had).
"All I ever wanted was for you to be able to go home," he whispered, and he could see the ways his words shattered her resolve. Her eyes grew pink and watery, and her lip twitched from the effort of her restraint.
"And all I've ever wanted was to be happy with you," she responded, matching his tone. He knew she wasn't serious. She couldn't be. She'd been wanting to go home to her sister for as long as he'd known her. But still - the sentiment struck hard and fast, and his heart ached from the love swelling inside him.
He didn't know what to say. Even after being with her, all this time, when she said shit like that… he felt unworthy. His brain couldn't process it, and he changed the subject, fast.
"I never really wanted to be the leader, Juliet. I just wanted to save you. I'da done anything." His voice cracked, and her eyes shut at the admission. She leaned in again, pressing her face to James's bare chest.
"I know," she murmured. "And I'd do anything for you too. You know that right?" He nodded, his arms tightening around her. "And… if that means embracing this - the burdens, the responsibility, the limitations - then so be it. That's why I did what I did last night. That's why I'm trying to make myself happy today. I just… you need me right now. Just like how I needed you."
James considered her words. How they filled up every dark crevice in his body with blinding yellow light. This unfiltered love she had for him - it was tremendous and all-encompassing. It chased away the shadows and made him feel warm. He planted a kiss on her head, and relished how it felt to hold her like this.
She was doing whatever it took for him to be okay. So he wouldn't feel alone, so he'd know they were a team - and she was content with that. It might have been the best thing she'd ever done for him - standing by him like this. Having his back, always.
He felt like Atlas, struggling to hold the weight of his own gratitude. Together, they were a team. They could do this.
Her hold on him, and the blood that was now purely love flowing like a peaceful river through his veins, was enough to ease the worry that had taken root. Even the guilt had been washed away with the tide of her support, if only for a little while.
Finally, he could breathe.
—-
James left Hurley at the cafeteria. He wasn't sure what to do. He knew he needed to talk to Juliet, but he wasn't even sure what he'd say.
He didn't know how this worked. Their… powers, or whatever. Could Hurley just… take it on? Was it really so easy?
He stopped walking when he passed by the rec room. He swore he could hear the echoes of her humming floating in the island breeze. She seemed content. He didn't want to ruin that.
Or… would this only make her happier? He shook his head, heading for home. Of course it would make her happier. She'd want to go home. Right?
But she'd given up on that. Maybe this news… maybe it would only reopen those wounds. Give her a false sense of hope when there shouldn't be any. He didn't know if he could stomach ripping it away from her once again if something were to go wrong.
James knew he was being selfish. He knew he should march right in there and tell her everything. They'd been through enough together - he knew Juliet preferred honesty. Craved it from him, actually, like it was the water that kept their relationship alive and blooming in the sunlight.
But he needed to process this too. This changed his life. It changed everything.
Option one: They do whatever it took to give Hurley the job. Then hitch a ride with Desmond back to the good ole' U.S. of A., make their way to Miami with no money, no passports, and just hope for the best. Hope Rachel hadn't moved or, God forbid, died, while Juliet had been trapped here, none the wiser. They make it work between them - with him, all the while, praying to whatever God was listening that she didn't see reason and leave him like she should. Because she very well could. She could settle back into her cushy life off the island and maybe, through no fault of her own, she could see she doesn't need him anymore.
Option two: They keep this power. He felt invigorated by it, like it was changing him at a molecular level. He was hyper-aware of everyone and everything on the island; sex was better, like his cells had awoken from a deep sleep, and his nerves had taken ecstasy and were ready to touch and be touched; and the two of them - they were fucking happy. There was no denying it. Ever since he'd confronted her as she did that damn puzzle, something had clicked into place. He had a purpose now. One he never expected to have, but now was subservient to nonetheless.
He finally understood what Locke and Jack had been yammering about, all that time.
And with option two… they could live here, safe and sound, and just… be together. No bills, no frills, and no risk. They could just be so fucking happy it made their chests ache. They could live their lives, for however long they wanted to, blissfully in their own little island paradise.
Wasn't that everyone's dream?
He closed the door behind him as he entered their house. He toed off his shoes, careful not to track mud in the house, and ambled down to their bedroom. It was still messy from the night before, and her scent enveloped him as he plopped down on top of the covers.
He sighed heavily, weary from a decision he knew wasn't his to make.
His head hit the pillow, and he looked out at the room, sideways. Up was left, and down was right. (Who the fuck ever trusted him to make decisions for the good of anyone but himself?) He never saw things quite clearly, did he? Always skewed in his favor, manipulated to benefit him and him alone.
If they stayed here, he wouldn't risk going to jail. He still had no idea what kind of evidence had been discovered from what he'd done to Duckett. He had no idea what kind of hits were placed on his head by his ex-employer. Hell, perhaps his slate had been washed clean upon the crash's announcement. Perhaps no one was looking for him. No one cared if he was alive, somewhere out there.
The thought brought him relief. He didn't care about anyone but Juliet. It was better, perhaps, for everyone to think he was dead.
And despite himself, James couldn't deny the power felt good. It felt good to be important. To be the protector of something. (He wasn't sure he'd ever protected anything in his life, except perhaps her.)
His eyelids began to droop, and he didn't fight it. He saw their lives here: building a community, growing the barracks. Marrying her, finally, and maybe asking Hurley to officiate. Making peace for perhaps the first time on this godforsaken rock. All because of them. Because they led, together - the right hand and the left. They made a good team, after all.
And as he sank beneath the waves, darkness enveloping his consciousness, he thought of the photo. Of the scarved woman, with the sad eyes and the permanent frown. The one who was the real victim here. Who'd had her family stolen from her, with no one to help her as she raised her son alone.
He deserved to be alone, he realized. Not her.
—-
James awoke to a subtle shift in the mattress below him. A warm body sidled up behind him - legs to legs, stomach to back - and an even warmer hand made its home on his exposed hip. He kept his eyes closed and his body still, waiting to see what she'd do next.
"I know you're awake," she whispered, and her hot breath tickled the skin behind his ear. She brushed back the hair that had fallen into his face as he'd slept, and he sighed happily at the shivers sprinting down his neck.
The jig was up, he supposed, and he allowed himself to grin. "Mmm… Missed you…" he mumbled, and Juliet pressed a firm kiss to his temple.
"How could you miss me if you were asleep?" she countered, and nuzzled where his neck met his shoulder. It didn't matter if she was trying to be flirtatious or was just enjoying cuddling him, the end result was the same. His skin shivered as he felt himself stir behind the front of his jeans.
"Always miss you," he said a little more clearly, and finally opened his eyes. He turned back, looking up at her. She was perched on one elbow, staring down at him with brightness in her blue eyes - like sun glittering off the surface of the ocean. It might just be his favorite sight in the whole world.
He never, ever wanted to see that light flicker out.
But he had to tell her.
"While you were here napping," she teased, booping him gently on the tip of his nose, "I was thinking about figuring out some kind of sustainable system here. I think we should build a garden, maybe in the field behind the cafeteria. We can start small, but I think in time we could keep expanding." She bit her lip. "I think Sun had the right idea, back at the beach. We never know if those food drops will ever stop, and it would be wise to ration what we get. It's also healthier to incorporate home-grown foods, you know? Everything we get from the drops is all just processed stuff."
He nodded, as if he were really listening. "Mmhmm…"
"And - I was thinking about making some nets, or some traps, to start harvesting more seafood. I mean - it's right there, isn't it?" She kissed him on the cheek again before smiling sadly. "I know we're not as good as Jin was, about catching stuff, but we can learn. I'm sure Rose and Bernard have it all figured out by now. They can give us some tips."
He rolled onto his back, taking one of her hands in his. "That what you really want? Bein' a homesteader here?"
Her head dipped to the side, mirrored by her eyebrows dipping in the middle of her forehead. "What do you mean?"
He paused, working his jaw from side to side. It was now or never.
(And this is when he realized: Sawyer would have lied. James just wanted her to be happy.)
"What if I told you… that maybe I figured out a way to get you home?"
Juliet frowned. She pulled away from him slightly, enough for the cool, early evening air from the open windows to drift between them. "That's not funny, James," she chided, and he could tell she was withdrawing.
"No, I'm serious, baby. Would…" He stopped short, trying to find the right words. "Would ya wanna leave all this behind - for good?"
She scoffed, smiling nervously, and sat up against the headboard. "I think you were sleeping a little too heavily…"
James shifted, trying to sit up beside her. "Hurley - Hugo - he offered - well, he offered to take our place. If he does… if we figure out how to even do that… then, well… we're free, ain't we?" He swallowed, knowing this - here - was as free as he was ever going to be.
Her mouth fell open and something clicked into place behind her eyes. Her pupils sharpened and a small sound escaped her throat. It would turn him on even further if he knew what that sound meant. If he knew it was a happy sound, rather than one that very well might be terrified.
"Are you serious?" she breathed after a long moment of silence.
"As a heart attack," James responded, and gripped one of her hands with both of his. She was trembling. (But then again, so was he.) "I know it's a lot. You been workin' so hard here, and I know ya said you'd lost hope, but…"
"Why did he offer something like this?" Juliet's eyes narrowed in suspicion.
James bit his lip, remembering the photo. "He - He found your file."
In the silence of the room, James could have sworn he could hear the thudding of Juliet's heart. Hear the whoosh of the air leaving her lungs, and the thrumming of her blood pressure rising. She was panicking. He could feel it in the air.
"My file?" she asked, her voice high and airy and caught off guard.
"Ben tried hidin' it. I dunno when. But the big man found it, and I guess… well, he didn't know nothin' 'bout you, before. Didn't know you had family waitin' for you to come home." Juliet sucked in a breath, deflating a little down towards the mattress. Like she couldn't hold herself up much longer. "He prob'ly feels bad, ya know? Cuz he made it off before, and we didn't."
"It wasn't his fault…"
"He knows that. I know that. But that don't matter. He got what we never did. And I guess…" James tried to find the words. He wanted to convey so much, but felt like he only had time to say so little. "I guess he's just thinkin' it's our turn."
Juliet took several long heartbeats to process this information. Her face shifted, from surprise to joy to pain to worry, and back to blankness. James waited for her to say something, anything, while still gripping her hand in his.
Honesty was fucking hard, he realized.
"The boat leaves in two days."
James nodded. "I know. One way or another, come hell or high water, William Wallace'll be on it. The question is… do you wanna be on it, too."
Time passed like molasses around him. He wanted to shake her, demanding an answer so he knew what the fuck he'd be up against. He was waiting on the edge of his metaphorical seat, and he wasn't sure why.
She would never choose staying here, with him, and he wasn't sure why that made him so sad. He wanted her to see her sister again. It's all he's wanted, for so long. To be the one who brings her home.
Home… such a weird concept. This was their home now. Wasn't it?
He didn't want to be Selfish Sawyer anymore.
"You'll go with me, right?"
The soft, pleading question broke James. The tilt of her face to him, the widening of her eyes. There was hope there.
He answered her by placing a firm, warm kiss against the back of her hand. He was hers and she was his, and he'd rather die than be apart from her ever again. Didn't she know that?
"I go where you go, baby," he murmured against her skin, and kissed it again for good measure.
He knew she wouldn't want to stay.
An odd, broken laugh bubbled out of Juliet's chest, and she placed the palm of her free hand flat on her forehead. "I can't even believe this…" she murmured, and James sat up more fully. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and crushed her to his chest. "I mean… I don't… This feels unreal."
"It was all him. Said he'd take it over if we wanted to retire early."
She nuzzled her face into his chest, one hand clutching at his collar. "I mean - there's so much work to be done here. Do you think he can handle it? All by himself?"
James thought about how easy the last couple weeks had been. How, between the two of them, they'd accomplished so much with so little.
But that was because they were two halves of one whole. Hurley… Hurley was the whole package.
"He'll be alright," James assured her, and planted another firm kiss to the top of her head. He inhaled her shampoo, and half-wondered if they should sneak a bottle of the Dharma-brand stuff into whatever they took with them. (Perhaps it wasn't just the shampoo. Perhaps it was just her, and she naturally smelled like a mountain spring surrounded by wildflowers. Either way, James didn't want to lose this scent - ever.)
Juliet pulled back, hand still on his collar, and looked at him, hard. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked softly.
James diverted his eyes. He needed to look anywhere but at her. "I did tell ya. Just now."
"But you could have told me earlier, and you didn't."
He didn't have an answer for that.
His gaze drifted down to the white blankets beneath him, and the stark contrast of their blue jeans. His dark, hers light.
"James?"
He looked up at her, an unspoken apology in his eyes.
She paled. "You don't want to go, do you?"
A thousand possible responses tumbled over one another in his mind, fighting to be first in line in his mouth. Yes, of course I want to go. I want to meet Rachel; or, Hell yeah I wanna get the hell outta here - we belong out there, in the real world.
But instead, he mumbles a half-committed, "I dunno."
It was, quite possibly, the worst thing to say. Goddamn honesty.
Her face was no longer blank. It was pained.
"Why do you want to stay here?" she practically spat, and it hurt to know that she'd never understand what this place has meant to him. How he'd grown into the man he was always supposed to be here. How he'd found love - a real, permanent, changes-you-at-a-cellular-level kind of love here. He'd made a home, for the first time in his entire life, on this godforsaken rock, and now… he was terrified to leave it all behind.
But she had next-level intuition now. Whether it be because of her newfound powers, or their long-term relationship and close bond, he wasn't sure. But her face softened as he searched in vain for something to say. Because how could he possibly say his real reasoning out loud?
He wasn't Sawyer anymore. He just wanted what was best for her. Hadn't he said, not long ago, that he'd do whatever it took to get her home?
"I know you're scared," Juliet whispered, and she removed her hand from his grasp. She placed her palms on either side of his face and forced him to look at her. "I know. I know because I feel it too. James, I've lived here twice as long as you have. I barely remember what it was like, living out there, in civilization. But…" She pursed her lips, running her thumbs across his cheekbones. Her closeness eased the ache that he'd built in his chest. "But as long as we have each other, we can face anything. We'll figure it out. We'll make it work, just like we did when we jumped through time."
He looked up at her, her eyes so deep and so blue he felt lost in them. "Baby, I ain't got nothin' to go back to… no job, no clean slate… nothin'."
She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. "You'll have me," she assured him, and her words built him up like a fallen jenga tower. Brick by brick, stroke by stroke, he wondered why he'd even let himself fall at all. "You are a part of me now, James. And I am a part of you. Nothing will ever make me question that - ever again." Another soft kiss. Her hands traveled down to softly hold either side of his neck. "You gave up everything for me. And I will never forget that. And I know… I know change is scary. Trust me. And I'd be lying if I didn't admit that part of me wants to stay here forever with you, too, but…"
"I know," he interrupted, gruff and choking on emotion. "She's waitin' for you." Juliet's eyes glistened, and James ran his hand along the outside of her thigh. "I just… I don't got nothin' to offer you, out there. You'll go back to bein' a doctor, and what'll I do? Can't get too many jobs as an ex-con, Juliet."
"Maybe not, but you'll be there. And that's all I can ask for." Her voice was strong, firm, and James knew she meant what she said, with every fiber of her being. "Having you… I can't live without you, James. I know I said - before - that maybe we weren't meant to be together, but now…"
"I know," he murmured, and leaned forward to kiss her once more.
He could have asked her then. He probably should have. But his crotch was aching and her tongue was in his mouth and it felt too damn good to stop.
Besides - she'd already made a big enough decision for one day. It was overwhelming, to think about asking her yet another momentous question, all in the same afternoon. It wouldn't be right. She was emotional, and still trembling with hopeful energy bounding through her body.
He had time. He'd ask her later, when she could really consider it and make sure it was the right choice for her. (He refused to admit he was avoiding it because he was scared.)
He had nothing to be scared of. It was Juliet. He was almost certain she'd say yes. Almost.
—-
The next day, James drove Juliet and Hurley as far as he could to the Grove. They hiked the rest of the way on foot, quiet and unhurried. They didn't know what to expect, and it seemed no one was in a rush to get started.
This time, they brought a Dharma mug with them. It felt fitting, and suited Hurley better than a flask.
They kept it a secret from everyone. No one knew of their plans, not even Ben, and James wanted to keep it that way. He didn't want to give the little fucker any headstart in his plans to try and manipulate Juliet to stay. (He couldn't even if he tried. If James couldn't, Ben definitely didn't stand a chance.) But still.
He tried in vain to remember the Latin words Jacob had used with him. He knew at this point they weren't necessary, but it felt ceremonial to use them. He gripped Juliet's hand firmly in his as he scooped up the water into the mug with the other, and handed it over to Hurley.
"You sure about this?" he asked gently, and Hurley gave a half-hearted, nervous smile before nodding.
"I'm sure."
Juliet murmured a phrase, eerily similar to what James had heard, and he shot her a curious look. "It just came to me," she shrugged, and refocused her attention back to Hurley.
After only a moment's hesitation, Hurley drained the entire mug.
"Now you're like us," James nodded, and the nervous tightness in his chest dissipated. It felt like the right thing to say.
Though… He didn't feel any different.
"Did it work?" Juliet asked him, and he shrugged.
"Guess there's only one way to find out."
They left the stream behind, and sat down on a boulder to put on their socks and shoes. James drove them back, not once letting go of Juliet's hand.
This had to work.
—-
Juliet packed two large duffel bags of clothes, toiletries, odds and ends. It was almost comical that James was leaving with more than he came with.
"Think ya packed enough?" he teased, and hauled their bags to the front door. They were supposed to be leaving before dawn the next day, and he wanted to be ready. It was late, almost time for bed, and they needed to get some rest before the chaos tomorrow would bring.
She shrugged, not taking the bait, and James knew she was anxious. Hell, he was too. His awareness of the island seemed to be the same, and he was scared out of his fucking mind that the 'ceremony' with Hurley hadn't worked. He envisioned in his head him and Juliet just… teleporting right back to where they started, the second they left the island's border.
Only one way to find out, he figured.
"Come on," he said, and tugged on her hand. He led her back to the bedroom, switched off the bedside lamp, and pulled her down beside him. She laid down on her side, facing him, clearly wondering what was next.
They needed to let go.
"Remember our first New Year's, on the island?" he asked, and a shy grin bloomed on her face.
"How could I forget? It was the first night you'd kissed me." She lifted a finger and traced his bottom lip. "You were very, very drunk, if I recall."
James smirked. "Wasn't that drunk," he replied, enjoying her slow blink at his admission. "Just wanted to have an out. Just in case."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Wasn't sure how ya felt about me. Thought, you know, maybe ya still had it out for me."
"For what?"
He sighed. "For makin' ya stay."
Juliet frowned. "You didn't make me stay. You helped me see reason. And I'll never stop thanking you for that." She was quiet for a beat, and then she asked, "What's been your favorite memory here?"
She may as well have asked him which child was his favorite, if he had over a thousand children. How could he possibly choose?
Their first kiss was up there, sure. It was the first time he'd ever felt lightning in his veins. It was the first time he'd ever considered the concept of whether he believed in soul mates or not. (If he did, she'd be his, he was sure of that.)
But there were countless others, too. Game nights, where they'd play Monopoly and laugh and drink wine til the early hours of the morning; stolen kisses during their lunch break, when he'd feel her up against the side of the motor pool; their first date - which she'd made into a whole romantic affair, just for him - with candles and wine and a homemade Italian meal (his favorite). Their first time, and hell, every other time since, that had been loving and passionate and invigorating, and momentous.
But it was the little moments too, that kept the penthouse suite in his heart. Waking up beside her in the morning with her head on his chest; the smell of her hair; the way she crinkled her nose when laughed; the way he'd come to know her, like he knew himself, and how it felt to know what she was thinking before she ever said the words aloud. The accomplishment of knowing her more intimately than anyone else. Those were all memories too.
It struck him then, the answer to her question. "You," he said simply. Her eyes widened just a fraction. "My favorite memory on the island… it's been you, sweetheart. Havin' you around. Gettin' to know you. Lovin' you." His eyes burned at the admission. He wasn't going to miss the island. He was just going to miss not having to share Juliet. "It's all you, baby."
"Mine too, James," Juliet whispered, and her voice caught. Her chin began to tremble, and it wasn't long before her eyes were watering. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come along."
He gripped her chin firmly between his thumb and forefinger. "You woulda survived. You always do. You're stronger than ya know."
He wanted to kiss her, but she was biting her lip so hard it was turning white. "Do you think this is going to work?" she asked, followed by a quick hiccup.
James nodded. Whether he really believed it or not, it was important Juliet did. "'Member when we hiked out to that waterfall, for our anniversary?" Juliet nodded, her lip still held hostage between her teeth. "How it felt, when ya jumped off?"
"I hate that feeling," she whispered, and James smiled sadly. He did too, but perhaps for other reasons. He remembered the cold water rushing over his head. How it felt different that time, plunging into the cool depths below, because her hand had been locked in his. He hadn't been scared.
"Me too. But ya held my hand, and together we just - did it. Took a leap of faith."
Juliet's chin stopped moving. Her eyebrows relaxed, and she shut her eyes. "A leap of faith," she repeated, and her body seemed to sink further into the mattress. "Like when you kissed me, on New Year's. I could have pushed you away. I almost did. But something told me not to." She opened her eyes. "I took a leap of faith, giving you a chance."
"Did it pay off?" he asked, his voice low and uncertain. He knew she loved him. He wasn't questioning that. But he was only human. It didn't matter how long you've been with someone; sometimes you just need that reassurance that they don't secretly wish their life had turned out different. That, if they could go back and do it all over again, they'd still choose you.
"I won the lottery that day," she said through a burgeoning grin.
"Me too, Blondie. Me too."
It took almost an hour for them to relax enough to go to sleep. They talked, in a way they perhaps hadn't done before - reminiscing about the last three years of their lives. Firsts. Bests. Worsts. And everything in between. They talked about Miles, and Jin, and Amy, and Horace. About their friends and neighbors from the Dharma Initiative, and the feelings and memories they never wanted to lose.
They talked about their house. What it had seen between its four walls. The life they'd built from the ground up, as real and as tangible as the mattress under their bodies.
She clutched his hands with hers, her leg draped over his knee, and they said goodbye to the home that they'd loved, that had loved them back in return.
—-
Juliet was the first to arise the next morning, and was the first at the front door. She slipped into her shoes, silent tears making their way down blotchy red cheeks. She waited for him outside, because she couldn't stand to be inside their house any longer, she said.
(He had one last thing to get, before they left. But for all she knew, he was saying his own private goodbye.)
The Elizabeth was waiting right where it was supposed to be. He just hoped the other boat would be, too. Ben said nothing as they boarded. Hurley had told him about what they'd done, and James was surprised to see resignation in the man's eyes, instead of loathing.
(Perhaps they weren't the only ones letting go.)
James waited until the island was small enough to see its entire shore before he let himself go, the shuddering tremors rocketing through his body. But he refused to cry. He just trembled instead, her touch on him the only thing keeping back the tide of fear. She anchored him, reminding him why they were here. Reminding them that this was a good thing. They were almost there.
"This is real, isn't it?" Juliet asked, the wind whipping her ponytail around her face. The sun was rising, casting her in a reddish glow. She squinted against it, holding up her hand to shield her eyes. She was staring at the receding island too.
"This is real," he agreed, and it was perhaps the first time he truly believed it.
It was surreal, seeing the island for what James knew would be the last time. It was bittersweet, he supposed, but he knew in his heart this was the right decision.
When they boarded the larger boat at their rendezvous, he turned around for one last glance. The island was gone. All that was left, in James's heart, was peace.
—-
James felt like there was a live wire under his skin. He'd been surviving off coffee and adrenaline for the last 24 hours of traveling, since they'd returned to the U.S.'s borders. The money Penny gave them wouldn't last forever, but it had gotten them here, at least.
It had been almost two full weeks since they'd left the island, and they were finally in Miami.
Rachel hadn't moved. She still lived in their old condo, downtown. Juliet looked pale as she walked through the automatic doors of the building. She was in a daze, her eyes flicking around to take in every detail of her surroundings, all while moving slowly with her shoulders pinched tightly together. He tried giving one a squeeze, but she shrugged out of his grasp. She sent him an apologetic glance, and he returned it with a forgiving, encouraging smile. He wasn't mad. He understood.
Rachel's phone number had been disconnected, so they couldn't call. Instead, they'd asked Penny to confirm her address before they disembarked her and Desmond's yacht. It was the same condo Juliet used to reside at, and they stayed at a hotel nearby for a night while she worked up the nerve to reappear in her sister's life.
Like a ghost, returning from beyond the grave, Juliet's face was white and blank as they approached the door. She stuck one hand out to knock, and shoved her other quivering hand into James's. Her palm was clammy from sweat, but James didn't mind.
Time stood still as they waited. He felt the faint reverberations of footsteps on the other side of the door.
He shouldn't be here. Shit. This was private, between sisters. Fuck - he shouldn't be here. He should have given her privacy, he should have -
"...Juliet?"
Rachel's voice wavered in the doorway, and her body slumped against the frame. Juliet's hand let go of his, as it shot to cover her own mouth. A gut-wrenching sob escaped her throat (not unlike the many he'd experienced holding her lifeless frame against his body) and the memories of his own anguish assailed him, almost knocking him off balance.
He shouldn't bear witness to this moment.
He stepped back, giving Juliet some room, and Rachel fell to her knees in the doorway. Juliet soon joined her, and they rocked together on the floor, arms tangled, brown hair blending with blonde.
It was a long while before Rachel even noticed him standing there. She looked up at him, eyes blood-red and curious, and Juliet whispered something in her ear. Rachel blinked, her eyebrows pinched together in confusion, and Juliet pulled back enough to swipe under Rachel's eyes with her thumbs.
"I'm back," she announced softly, and it struck James deep in his soul that she didn't say she was home.
—-
Julian was asleep in his room by the time they'd arrived at the condo. Rachel had been cleaning the kitchen when they'd arrived, and the dishwasher lay open and half-filled as they filed into the living room to talk.
Rachel was quietly hysterical, James could tell. She kept crossing and uncrossing her legs; squeezing the life out of her hands as they wove together; rocking back and forth, presumably without knowledge that she was doing so.
In comparison, Juliet looked damn near saint-like as she sat perfectly poised on the edge of a couch James assumed had once been hers, hands clasped firmly in her lap. But James could tell she was shaking. He could feel her vibrations through the inches that separated them, but he didn't want to overstep. He didn't want to touch her in front of Rachel, just in case she didn't want him to.
He just wanted to be there for her. But he didn't know how.
Juliet calmly explained to Rachel about how "Portland" had never really been Portland at all. How she'd been held, against her will, and James had too. They left the plane crash out of it, which was fine by him. Rachel repeatedly licked her lips - a nervous tick, James guessed - and he couldn't say he blamed her. This was overwhelming, even for him; he couldn't imagine how the two of them felt.
This had been the right decision. He knew that now. These sisters loved each other deeply. They deserved to be reunited.
They spent the next several hours catching up in as many ways as they could, talking late into the night. Rachel tearfully told Juliet about Julian. (Juliet acted as though she didn't already know.) They told Rachel a modified, previously-agreed-upon version of how they'd met, how they'd become a couple. The hours felt like mere minutes, but over time, the adrenaline began to wear off and exhaustion swept in like high tide. Rachel offered them her bedroom, saying Julian's bed was big enough for her to sleep in. She'd be fine, she said, and insisted they not return to their hotel room. (Given that they'd brought their bags, James felt it was obvious their plan was to crash here, but Juliet elbowed him, a silent warning not to say so.)
They damn-near collapsed onto Rachel's bed long after midnight, and Juliet immediately burst into tears. James held her as she cried, silent and unyielding, until he was close to falling asleep himself.
When she was done, she extricated herself from his arms and rooted around in one of the bags. Through a deep, congested voice she asked where the toothbrushes were. Half-asleep, he responded, "Front pocket."
He didn't notice when she stopped shuffling around.
He didn't think anything of it when her weight settled down slowly onto the bed beside him. His mind was half gone, dreaming of Dharma barbeques and being surrounded by grainy monitors. Memories, he assumed, flitting around his subconscious as he tried to relax enough to fall asleep.
Juliet hiccuped, and it startled him out of his stupor. He only had the strength to open one eye, squinting at her outline in the dark.
"Yes," she whispered, and then she leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. He could taste the salt from her tears. "Yes, James."
His heart skipped a beat, and he struggled to open the other eye. "Yes, what?" he managed to ask, and groped around for her in the dark.
No no no no no…
He felt something cool and sharp on her hand.
Fuck.
He'd been waiting for the right moment. He'd wanted roses and music, moonlight and dancing. He'd wanted maybe to propose beachside, back when they were still on the island, but then he'd decided it would be kind of nice to get Rachel's approval first. She was bound to say yes, and feel better about it, if they had her blessing.
"You weren't exactly s'posed to see that, yet," he mumbled, and he swallowed thickly.
She'd said yes.
Holy shit. She'd said yes.
He hadn't even needed to ask.
"Yet?" she asked, and the trembling began anew. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in tight, tucking her forehead to his collarbone.
"Wanted it to be special," he explained, stumbling over his words in an effort to get them out, and quickly, despite his sleep-deprived state. "Wanted it to be perfect."
Juliet sniffed, and fresh, hot tears soaked through his shirt. "It's you, James. You're already more perfect than I ever expected to find."
His arms tightened around her, and he finally let a few happy tears leak from the corners of his burning eyes. "At least lemme actually ask you," he said, and felt her nod against his skin. "Will you marry me, Juliet?"
She hiccuped and nodded more vigorously, and whispered, "Yes, James. I will. I absolutely will."
James would do whatever it took to make Juliet happy. Anything at all.
Fortunately for him, he'd be doing it for all the rest of his days.