Chapter 11 - Conditional Release
James sat on the sand in one of the improvised beach tents, trying to breathe his way through the throbbing pain in his outstretched leg. He watched as Jack checked Juliet for a concussion, and any other injuries aside from the glaringly obvious marks on her neck.
They'd returned to the beach at an agonizingly slow pace, Sayid and Kate helping James hop-limp his way back for over a mile. Juliet followed right behind them, shaken both physically and mentally, forcing one foot in front of the other, one step at a time, because she was able to walk on her own. Upon their arrival at the beach, Juliet insisted they clean James up and make sure his bleeding stopped before she allowed Jack to examine her.
Now it was her turn. She sat very still, on driftwood they'd dragged in to serve as a bench the day after the crash. She stared at the sand in front of her, and only winced a few times at the application of alcohol on superficial scrapes. Jack asked yes or no questions that she could answer with a nod or a shake of the head, because it hurt too much for her to talk. His report on her injuries was terse. He was upset, angry at the situation and that he hadn't been asked to go along.
The good news was she had no concussion, and didn't seem to have internal injuries. That left every other ache and pain imaginable, from the bruises of the initial tussle to being strangled to within seconds of the end of her life. James was in the same boat; the knife had missed his major artery, though the surrounding nerve endings didn't care about how lucky he'd been. He'd jammed his knee, punched his own hand bloody, and every muscle in his back and good leg ached from compensating on the walk home. The only part of him doing better than the day before were his fingernails.
"This is insane." Jack muttered, dabbing as gently as he could at the marks on Juliet's neck.
"I -" Juliet tried to speak and immediately stopped when the stabbing pain overwhelmed her senses. She winced, and waited for the worst wave to pass. "I don't want Claire to see me." she managed to communicate, with mouthed words and the softest breath. She glanced at Kate, who stood watching from the corner.
Kate hugged herself tighter, and nodded her silent agreement. She'd keep Claire away.
"We're going out there." Jack went on. "With all the weapons we can gather-"
Juliet grabbed his wrist in a harsh grip, and made him look at her. Don't you dare, she said wordlessly, fierceness in her eyes.
"What else are we supposed to do?" Jack asked her, pleading for a better option.
Juliet looked pointedly at James, asking for back up. He took a deep breath before he spoke. James didn't disagree with Jack's sentiment; he wanted nothing more than to storm those barracks and paint the entire town red with their blood. But they had a plan, and they had to stick to it to get through this new mess.
"You're not gonna win a fight like that. Not on their turf." James explained.
He looked to Juliet to make sure she approved. She looked back at him, satisfied, and released Jack's wrist.
"We got a day or two before they realize Ethan ain't making his next rendezvous."
"And what do we do when they figure it out?" Jack asked. "That's two we've killed now."
"In self-defense." Kate reminded him sharply.
Jack looked at Kate, suitably shamed by her admonishment but unable to hide his disappointment that she wasn't backing him up. Kate was also at a loss for other options, but she would side with James and Juliet when it came to storming the enemy in their own territory. She'd finally seen an Other in action. They'd experienced what Ana Lucia had only described. If the Others were willing to kill one of their own…
"We'll figure something out," said James. It sounded stupid out loud, but it was all they had, and it was all James could offer with a fresh stab wound screaming from his leg.
Abruptly, Juliet got up to leave.
"Juliet, wait." Jack reached for her arm - he had more observations to complete - but Juliet avoided his grasp. Kate made room for her so she could leave the tent, knowing instinctively that Juliet would not want to be touched in that moment.
Juliet limped and held her arm at an awkward angle to stave off the sharp stabbing pains, but she didn't stop until she was back in James' tent. Her heart was beating out of her chest, and she realized this time it was pure anger. She'd been feeling so human the last day and a half, ever since swimming with James at the waterfall, and then spending a day with a bunch of normal people who wanted to leave the island as much as she did. Ethan's attack brought it all back into focus; her newfound purpose, and the final task she had to complete. She'd panicked under Ethan because he was trying to rob her of her one consolation in all of this. If she never got to leave this place, it would all be worth it if she was able to kill Ben. If only to prevent any more Ethans.
"Where's Sayid?" Jack asked the remaining two patients.
"He went to talk to Ana Lucia." Kate reported dutifully.
"Formal meeting of the Others' killers club." James muttered. He chuckled bitterly at his own joke, his eyes closed to the looks of judgment shot his way.
"Good." Jack said to Kate. "We should have brought Ana Lucia in on this sooner." He wiped his hands on a spare t-shirt, and tossed it onto the sand before leaving the tent.
Kate stayed. The tension remained in the silence that followed, until James spoke up.
"He's never gonna get it." he muttered.
Kate looked at him, asking wordlessly what he meant.
"He can't control everything that happens here."
It was clear to anyone that Jack's control issues were causing even more stress than they were already under. Kate agreed but she was too shell-shocked to say it.
"Are you okay?" James asked.
She wasn't prepared for the question, or the sympathy she saw in his eyes when she turned to look. With everything they'd experienced, it was that earnest question that almost sent Kate over the edge.
"I'm fine," she lied. "Didn't get a scratch."
"Yeah, but…" he paused, knowing his next words might sting a little. "Seeing Juliet get attacked like that…?"
It took her a moment, but then Kate realized it wasn't her usual paranoia. James had explained the files, and he must have seen a thick one all about her. Her cheeks colored at the recent memory of James having to push past her to stop Ethan while she stood frozen and useless. She wanted to deny it, but there was no use. So she looked at him defiantly and confirmed what he thought he knew.
"You're right. My mother's husband used to beat her."
James broke eye contact, painfully aware of how much it pissed her off to have to explain it to a stranger. He felt the familiar threads of fire and ice go up his spine at his own childhood memories.
"My dad smacked my mom around, too."
Kate's stomach dropped. She'd seen his letter. She knew how that story ended.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"Yeah. Me too." said James. "I just wish I'd had the balls to kill my old man before he did what he did."
They were in uncomfortable territory now. Kate didn't want to leave him alone in the tent, but she didn't want to talk about her past.
"You were just a kid." Kate reminded him.
"Yeah. Well." James muttered. "I just wanted to tell ya," he said, his leg really aching him. "Don't feel bad for not always agreeing with Jack. He's used to immediate satisfaction for every inconvenience. He wants the world to think like he does, but not all of us were born and raised with that silver spoon. This Ben thing, the Others…we gotta play the long game."
Kate nodded. She had experience with that too.
"We've got a whole town full of those freaks to deal with." James said, grunting as he went to stand up. Kate crouched down to lend her support, and carefully got him to his feet. "I got it," he said quietly, declining Kate's offer to help him back to his tent.
She put her hands in her back pockets, giving him space.
"Thanks," he added belatedly.
"You're welcome." she said, ducking out of the tent before she started crying again.
Ana Lucia and Sayid both clocked Jack's approach as he pushed through the sand toward them.
"So I'm in the club now, huh?" Ana Lucia asked Jack. Her hardened scowl was not vindictive. She was worried, just like the rest of them.
"You were right." said Jack, matter of factly. "There are more of them than we thought."
"And they want us all dead?"
Jack shook his head. "I don't know. I don't think Juliet really knows either. But she's convinced this Ben person sees us as expendable."
"You think the kids are there?" Ana looked at Sayid and Jack in turn. "Where Juliet's from?"
"They'd better be." Sayid said darkly.
Ana Lucia nodded her agreement.
"So what's stopping us from going out there, right now, with all the guns we have?" she asked them.
Jack paused, Juliet's fierce look still burning in the back of his mind. He outlined the reasons for Ana Lucia - the Others were organized, familiar with the landscape, and motivated to protect their territory at any cost - and as he said it all out loud, he found himself accepting the wisdom in holding back. The pylons alone, observed and logged by Ben himself, were enough to give them all pause.
Kate joined them, with a sheepish smile thrown Ana Lucia's way. She listened as Jack described Juliet's physical trauma at the hands of Ethan. It was subtle, but Kate noticed how Ana Lucia tensed at the details, gritting her teeth as she blew a centering breath through her nose.
"Another few seconds…" Jack shook his head in disbelief. He looked at Sayid and Kate. "She was lucky you followed her as quickly as you did."
"Is she okay, though?" Ana asked.
Jack confirmed that, physically, she was going to be fine. But they would have to wait a day or two to let her heal before she could talk to them herself. And that talk was necessary before they moved forward with any revised plans.
They went through the rest of what Juliet had told the circle of trust, all the disturbing truths on top of the innocuous facts about the settlement she'd shared with the other survivors.
"Can I talk to you?" Kate asked Ana Lucia, once they were done sharing. Ana Lucia nodded, leading the way back to her tarped lean-to.
When James finally made it back to his tent, Juliet was waiting for him. She sat cross-legged next to their blanket. She couldn't talk. Didn't want to. There was nothing to say. It hurt to move. It hurt to swallow. It hurt to do nothing. Juliet could only sit there in misery until James crawled in beside her on his injured leg.
The look in his eyes when he saw how miserable she was, it cut through the numbed shell holding Juliet together. He laid down on their blanket, right next to where she sat. The sight of his bandaged leg and hands, the proximity to his sympathy, made it okay for her to cry. Big, wet tears streamed down her face. It hurt to cry, too. It hurt the most to cry. She looked back at him, and the sorrow came off of her in waves. There was too much going on and not enough energy left to fight it all.
Juliet settled down on her bruises and curled up next to James like she had the previous night. But this time she faced him, and pressed her forehead into the front of his t-shirt. All the mental torture, the depression, anxiety, and stress she'd been feeling, had manifested in physical injury that day. The emotional pain was there too, intensified, multiplied. She was more angry, more scared, more upset with herself that she'd done to this entire camp what she had done to Goodwin. They were all in danger now.
James rested his face against the top of her head and held her tight. The dried blood in her hair smelled like fading copper. It didn't deter him from breathing in her sorrow, and it didn't make him hold her any less snugly. He breathed evenly, soaking up her pain as she let it out silently against his chest. There was only so much a woman could take, and only so much a bastard like him could witness before he vowed to kill every last one of Ben's people to make things right.
Juliet cried to exhaustion, until all her body could do was shiver involuntarily. She let the tears dry to salt on her cheeks, and the snot from her nose stayed where it gathered. There were hot, stabbing knives in her throat, further strain unavoidable even with silent weeping. And all she could do was lay there and live through each excruciating moment.
"I'm sorry." She mouthed the words around an exhalation.
James closed his eyes. The pit of anger in his stomach boiled. But he breathed, and he kept his touch gentle, stroking one small spot on her back with his thumb.
"I got you." he said.
Those three words and that small, tender gesture of his thumb on her back induced a sense of calm that washed over her completely.
"I got you."
Juliet melted into him. The shivering stopped. Her breath became even, and she fell asleep in his arms.
When Juliet woke up, she felt arms around her and panicked. A shot of adrenaline entered her bloodstream, telling her she needed to escape.
James felt her stir. She pushed at his chest and uttered a frightened cry, and he quickly realized she didn't know where she was.
"Hey-" he began in a comforting tone, but her legs joined the frenzy to escape his embrace, and her knee jabbed his injured leg. "Ow!" he yelled. It broke through Juliet's confused panic, bringing her to the present reality.
"I'm sorry!" she rasped. Her dry throat still felt like it had shards of glass in it, but at least she could make sounds. The island worked fast.
"Mmnngh," James growled behind closed lips. He didn't want her to feel bad, but his glass shards were big; the island didn't work that fast.
Juliet sat up, and received her punishment when a delayed headache slammed into her skull. She gave a softer cry of pain, touching her temples gingerly until the initial pang passed.
"This is all my fault." Juliet whispered.
"Hey, now." James said, trying feebly to get more comfortable after their body-destroying nap and wake-up call. "Don't go taking all the credit."
After James found a position on his back that hurt the least, they both kept still and breathed through the latest assault on their senses.
Along with the headache, images of what happened earlier that day remained prominent in Juliet's mind. She would never forget the way her eyes had clouded over in those almost-final moments. How incomplete she'd felt, and how unfair it would have been to have what little she had left of herself taken away.
She remembered when her vision returned, too. Thinking at first it was a wild boar that tackled Ethan, tearing him off of her in mid-air. There had been a moment of confusion, as she wondered why the boar would choose such stringy meat as prey. But it had been James coming to the rescue, putting his entire body on the line to protect her, and receiving a hole in the leg in return.
Juliet cradled her forehead in her left hand, and peered past her wrist at James.
"You saved my life."
It was a prelude to a thank you. As if his body wasn't uncomfortable enough, she had to go and be grateful to him.
"I wouldn't have found you if it wasn't for Sayid and Kate."
He couldn't see her reaction. He'd draped an arm over his face, and was picturing Juliet naked and holding a mai tai in each hand to distract himself from the pain. But he could feel her watching him.
"If you're gonna tell me," James drawled. "That I can back out of this now that I got hurt, you can save it. I told you it was time to ride or die. Everything before the dyin' is the ridin'."
Juliet felt a surge of hope at the way he put it. It appeared in a small smile that James saw when he peeked at her around his forearm.
"So when does this fuckin' island heal me?" he asked. "'Cause son of a god-damned bitch this still hurts…"
Juliet's body wanted to laugh but she stifled it. It all still hurt too much.