A/N:This story was co-written by AO3's obsessivedaydreamer and posted here with her permission

Chapter 1 - JULIET

"You look just like Mom."

Rachel put her hands on Juliana's shoulders and leaned in, kissing the top of her head. Juliana couldn't form the words in her mouth to agree, even though she did. The resemblance was too striking. Blue had always been her color. (She supposed it was hers now too.)

"I feel like I'm wearing a circus tent." Her arms couldn't even lie at her side, and she opted to wring them in front of herself instead.

Rachel chuckled. "You get used to it."

Juliana bit her tongue from expressing that she didn't want to get used to it. She didn't want to have to. No one would ever be as good as her, especially not Juliana. She wanted Rachel to be queen forever.

But there was no forever. Not with her sister's illness, slowly eating at her, resisting all attempts at a cure.

There was no forever. She should've learned when she woke up one Wednesday morning when she was ten and heard that her parents were dead.

She really did look like her, she thought, turning and watching the large skirt swing with the movement. More than she had ever realized. Especially with her hair up like that, braid twisted around her head like her mother used to have hers.

"Let's go," Rachel said, pulling her from her thoughts. She drifted toward the door and Juliana followed.

She was supposed to join her on all her royal duties today—preparing her for what life would be like as queen. Rachel said she wanted to show her and teach her as much as she could now, so the transition would be easier when it came.

She always said it with that calm, motherly tone of hers and Juliana would fight the need to tell her nothing about it would be easy when she was gone and Juliana had no one. When she would be alone and the entire country was suddenly looking to her. When there would be no one left to turn to. When her sister wouldn't be there to brush her hair back after she had a bad day and tell her everything would be alright.

They walked down the hallway, looking out to the courtyard on their right. They passed Sayid, Juliana's favorite member of the guard, walking with another man. The closer she looked, she realized she knew him. Sergeant Major Sam Austen, from the American military. He had helped at the time of their parents' deaths. She wondered distantly what he was doing there. There was no major conflict present that Juliana was aware of.

"That is a beautiful dress, Juliana," Sayid said with a nod.

She smiled. "Thank you, Sayid."

They continued on, and she looked up at Rachel. "What is Sam doing here?"

"Hm?"

"Sergeant Major Austen."

"Oh. Military business, nothing more." She waved her hand. "You don't need to worry about that. Right now, what you should be thinking about is the meeting we're about to arrive at."

"Who are we speaking with again?"

Rachel raised an eyebrow and Juliana looked down at the carpet beneath her feet. She'd told her about a hundred times. "Jacob, one of the royal counselors."

"Right."

They were about to turn the corner when the sudden boom of the front doors being thrown open rattled through the castle walls. Juliana startled, instinctively stepping back.

"Find the queen!" a rough voice roared from down by the doors. "Kill anyone who gets in the way."

"Rachel," Juliana squeaked.

The sharp noise of gunfire made her jolt, ears ringing. The fear pushing in on her was suffocating. She instinctively curled in on herself, making herself small.

Rachel turned, reaching out and putting her hands on Juliana's shoulders. There was such a solemn look in her eyes, it left her silent. "Juliana, run."

"What?"

"Listen to me. You have to run. Behind me, go down the staff stairs and head out the back door."

Her heart had seized up in her chest, everything inside her wound up tight. "What about you?"

"I'll meet you there, okay? Just run."

Her heart screamed not to go, not without her. But her brain knew that whatever Rachel said she had to do. She had a reason. She had to trust her. She did trust her, she was the only person whom Juliana would do anything for.

So she ran.

Her shoes clicked against the floor as she rushed down the corridor, reaching down and lifting her skirt up the best she could to avoid tripping. She pushed the door to the stairs open and scurried down, her heavy breaths echoing in her ears.

She didn't know what was happening. Rachel never told her these things, though Juliana didn't ask. She hadn't been aware there was any threat. She hadn't been aware she needed to be scared.

She was scared. She was terrified.

She threw open the back door at the bottom of the stairwell and stumbled to a stop out on the grass. A helicopter was set down a few yards away, Sayid and Sam standing outside of it. When they spotted her, Sayid rushed over. "Princess, come with me."

"No! Where's Rachel?" She pushed him away to the best of her ability, but he was incredibly strong, much more than her, and her attempts were futile. "Rachel!"

He dragged her by her arm toward the helicopter as she yelled. But one of the other doors was flung open before they got there, Rachel coming out.

Relief flooded Juliana. Her sister was here, and everything would be okay. They were safe.

"Sayid!" she called. "Give us a moment."

He let her go and she ran over, meeting Rachel halfway.

"What's happening?"

"It doesn't matter." Rachel pushed a stray hair back from her face. Her hand rested there, cupping her cheek. "Juliana, you have to go."

Her heart dropped to her stomach. "Go where?"

"Away. Sam is going to take you. But it isn't safe here right now."

"You're coming too," she said. Deep in her chest, she knew it wasn't true. But it had to be. It was the only reality she could accept.

Rachel gently shook her head. "No. I have to stay here."

"But if it isn't safe for me, it isn't safe for you." Her voice got high and panicked. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, and she tightened her grip on Rachel's arm.

"I'll be okay. I promise." She smiled, but Juliana knew her too well. It didn't reach her eyes. "I have to stay here. It's my duty to protect us."

"Who's going to protect you?"

"We will keep her safe."

Juliana looked up to see Sayid standing near. He met her eyes and nodded, but it wasn't enough. How could either of them be safe or okay when they were far apart?

"You have to go now, okay?" Rachel leaned forward and kissed Juliana's forehead. "I love you."

Juliana lunged forward, hugging her as close as she could with the fabric of their dresses between them. Her tears leaked onto Rachel's shoulder as she held her tightly. "I love you."

She pulled away and Juliana was forced to let go. She couldn't get her feet to move. She couldn't leave Rachel. She couldn't. She'd be alone, Rachel would be alone, stuck here in the middle of a war. She was sick. She needed Juliana. (Juliana needed her.)

But Sam grabbed her arm and led her back toward the helicopter, and she had to turn so as not to trip over her own feet. Methodically, robotically, she stepped up inside and sat down on the hard seat.

"Seatbelt," Sam said, and she pulled it across herself, clicking it together.

She looked out, eyes stuck on Rachel. Everything inside of her was screaming, like one half of two magnets being ripped apart. The loud noise of the propeller whirred in Juliana's ears as she watched her sister grow smaller. She swore she could see Rachel smile as she waved, but it wasn't enough to ease the twisting nausea in her stomach as they flew away.

It all happened so quickly. Just moments ago nothing was wrong. Now everything was wrong; nothing was okay. Now she had nothing but herself and the stupid dress poofing up around her seat. Now she was utterly alone.

She reached up and held onto her necklace, gripping it tight in her hand. The one Rachel gave her for her thirteenth birthday. The only piece of her she had now.

"It's going to be okay," Sam said, voice loud to overpower the noise of the propeller.

She couldn't say anything. She didn't believe him.

She couldn't stop crying. The tears rolled down her cheeks, wet and sticky and salty where they landed on her lips.

She didn't believe him.

Juliana stopped a few feet away from the building, causing Sam to do the same. "I'm not going until you tell me where we are."

He sighed. "Juliana, please. Let's just get you inside."

"No."

He rubbed his hand over his temple. "Can I explain it to you while we walk?"

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, brain spinning. She felt a little sick still, unable to think clearly.

She hated feeling helpless, like she was a damsel in distress. Rachel was back home fighting to protect their country and Juliana was, what? Being dragged around like a precious rag doll?

She deserved to know what was going on. But she figured it didn't hurt to move forward while he explained.

She nodded and followed him toward the metal doors, listening as he began to talk.

"The man who invaded your castle this morning is named Martin Keamy," he told her, "he's the leader of—"

"Svartbjörn," Juliana answered for him. She might have been clueless about the situation but she wasn't entirely stupid. She had read up on all the countries, especially those near them.

She knew of the man, but thinking of him then made her want to throw up. She could still hear his voice booming throughout the palace. Could still hear the noise of his guns.

"Yes," Sam confirmed. "He's approached your sister in recent months, discussing wanting to unite your two countries."

"Why would we do that?"

"Because he wants to make money off of your oil. His economy is failing, and yours is thriving. And he claims that you'll need him once your sister, uh, . . . once you become queen."

They stepped inside and Juliana read between the lines, everything he wasn't saying slapping her across the face.

"He doesn't want me to be queen."

"He claims you aren't mature enough. That Isbjörn needs a strong leader."

"I can be a strong leader." Anger flickered in her chest now, hands balled up in fists. Who did he think he was? What did he know about her? About Rachel and their country?

He just wanted their money. She was sure of it.

They stood in a blank, all-white foyer, and Sam led her toward the elevator on the far wall.

"I know you can," Sam said, pressing the up button. "Your sister knows you can. That's why she said no. And clearly, Keamy didn't like that answer."

Something about his words caused Juliana's chest to tighten. "Is she going to be okay?"

"She'll be alright. I promise. Your men are taking care of her." They stepped into the elevator and he continued, "But this is why she sent you away. Because she needs to keep you safe. She knows you're the future of Isbjörn."

Juliana chewed on her lip, the metallic taste of blood seeping into her mouth. "I still don't know where we are."

"Well. Princess Juliana, you are now in the safe custody of the International Princess Protection Program. The PPP for short."

Her brow shot up. It sounded so absurd, like something out of a cheesy novel. The ones she refused to read.

"I've never heard of it," she mumbled as the doors slid open.

The woman on the other side chuckled, catching her comment. "Nobody ever hears of us, Sweetheart. Not 'til we're needed."

Something about the woman's presence was calming, a sudden ease to her breaths that Juliana hadn't felt all day.

She stepped out and the woman reached to grab her hand. "I'm the Director of the PPP. You can just call me Rose."

"Hi," Juliana said softly, shaking her hand.

Rose looked up and nodded at Sam. "Good work, Sargeant." She looked back to Juliana and smiled. "You're safe now, Princess."

"How long do I have to stay here?" she asked quickly. She wanted to go home more than anything.

Rose put her hand around Juliana's shoulders, leading her away from the elevators. "Until you're ready for stage four."

"Stage four? What's stage one?" Juliana needed an Advil. Her head hurt and there was too much information hitting her all at once.

"Extraction," she said, like it was basic knowledge. "That's what brought you here."

"And stage two?"

"Transition."

"Transition to what?" All the vague responses began to frustrate her.

"Stage three." She smiled, stepping out of the hall into a large room full of bustling people. "Welcome to the operational heart of the Princess Protection Program, Juliana. We're a top-secret agency, funded by royal families all across the world. Currently, there are twenty-nine princesses under our protection."

She walked and Juliana followed her to a wall of screens where a row of people sat, monitoring locations, pinpoints on maps. Rose pointed to one. "See this dot? Princess Chandra. Sam rescued her from a politically motivated coup last year and now she is somewhere no one will find her."

"Where?"

"Somewhere safe."

On the surface, Juliana understood their mission. She understood its importance. But it didn't stop cold dread from curling its fingers around her heart and worming its way into her rib cage.

"And what about me?" she asked, cursing herself for the way her voice shook. "Are you sending me somewhere?"

There was nowhere she wanted to go but home.

Rose nodded. "That's what we do."

"Where?"

"Nowhere yet. You've gone through step one, that was Sam bringing you here. Now you're in step two, but we need to put you in step three before we can send you anywhere."

"What's that?"

"Transformation. First, hair. Then, wardrobe. Whatever it takes to make you unrecognizable as a princess."

Rose's hand on her back gently pushed her toward where Juliana could see racks of clothes and girls sitting in front of mirrors in the distance. Her heart pounded in her chest and it felt like the walls were closing in on her.

She pulled away, stumbling back. "No, stop."

"Juliana—"

"Stop!"

She harshly rubbed her hand back over her face, pushing back the stray hairs that had escaped her braid. None of this helped. She felt eyes were on her from everywhere, all around her. Every single head turned toward her. It was too much and all of a sudden she felt tears stinging her eyes again. And crying in front of a room full of people, she had never felt as big a fool as she did then.

"I don't know who any of you are and you aren't even giving me time to process this" She hastily rubbed at her eyes, sniffling. "Where's Sam? Sergeant Austen. I want to talk to him."

Rose looked over Juliana's shoulder and she turned to see Sam walking up to her.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"I wanna go home," she said. She knew it was selfish of her, and impossible. But she didn't know how she could possibly feel okay anywhere else.

"I'm sorry," he said. "You can't. Not until we've found a way to remove Keamy and his men from your country. In the meantime, we gotta protect you."

"Rachel needs protecting," she argued. More than she did. She was the queen. She was perfect. And she was sick, she couldn't fight for herself. Not like anyone else could.

"By doing this, you are protecting her," he told her. "If something happens to you, then there is nothing to stop Keamy from taking over, and hurting your sister in the process."

She stifled a cry. The thought of her sister in any sort of pain hurt her in a way nothing else could.

"Okay," she agreed quietly. "Okay."

Sam smiled. "Okay. Now let Rose show you what's next. She'll take good care of you."

She nodded and turned back toward Rose.

"Hello again," she said with a smile.

"Hi."

"First thing, we gotta change your name."

Juliana's heart ached with the thought. She loved her name, her mother had picked it out specifically for her. She loved the way it sounded when Rachel would murmur it in reassurances.

But she had to keep her safe. She had to do this.

So she nodded.

"Is there anything you'd like to suggest before we pick one?"

Juliana smiled the best she could. Actually, there was. A name always so close to hers, one Rachel would tease her for when she brought it up. One she always found so beautiful in the words of one of her favorite stories.

"Juliet," she said. "I wanna be Juliet."

Rose smiled. "That's a great choice. From now on, you will be Juliet Burke, an average American high school student."

"America," she said. She'd never been. It wasn't a country hers had any direct contact with, but it was a place she'd often dreamed of—the setting of all her favorite stories. "Where am I going to go?"

"Well," Sam said, walking around to stand beside Rose. They shared a look, and then he turned to her. "I was thinking that, if you want, you could come home with me."

For the first time that day, since Keamy stormed into her home, she smiled and meant it.

He was the only person she trusted. The only person she knew.

If she had to go anywhere, going with him was the best option by far.

Juliet slowly walked through the bedroom, wide-eyed taking it all in. Her new home, she thought, and it made her feel so helplessly small.

She knew nothing about this Kate, nothing beyond the fact that she was Sam's daughter and that she'd be sharing a bedroom with her.

(Juliet wasn't used to sharing a bedroom. She wasn't used to sharing much of anything.)

Now, the list of things she knew about her grew longer. First off, she liked music, as the stack of CDs on her desk implied. Juliet tilted her head to read the sides—Patsy Cline, Bruce Springsteen. Second off, she liked some movies called Die Hard, and Say Anything (which Juliet had seen); she could only assume, based on the movie posters up above her dresser.

Thirdly, she was beautiful.

Juliet stepped closer, looking at the photos taped up to the wall above her nightstand. A strip of photos, Juliet thought she knew the style as one that came from one of those booths, but she'd never used one. In each one was an image of her—dark curls cascading around her face, green eyes striking even there—and a boy with dark hair, the two of them grinning at the camera, grinning at each other, making silly faces. She wondered if they were just friends or something more. She hoped she would get to find out.

There was another photo, one of Sam and her standing on a dock. Kate looked younger than she did in the photo booth strip, holding up a fish and laughing at the camera.

The final one showed her even younger, a small child with her curls back in a ponytail, smiling in between a younger Sam and a woman with short blonde hair.

Sam had never mentioned a wife, had never mentioned Kate's mother.

She wondered what happened.

She arrived at the end of the room, at the cushioned seat beneath the window. It was a nice view, looking out at the water. Nothing in comparison to some of the view from Juliet's home, but nothing here could ever compare to that. She had to learn to appreciate the little things here.

She sat down on the seat, glancing outside. She could see the driveway and looked out just in time to watch Kate come up the driveway. Juliet's heart skipped a beat, more nervous than excited.

She had to make a good first impression. It was what her parents had always taught her, what Rachel always repeated and insisted. To help the people, the people had to trust her. They had to like her.

And right now, Juliet needed Kate to trust her. And to like her.

She heard loud footsteps clambering through the house and squeezed her hands together in eager anticipation. Finally, she watched Kate come down the hall to the bedroom. She looked up as she walked through the doorway, barely catching a glance of Juliet before dropping her backpack with a thud.

"Hi," Juliet squeaked out, higher than she wanted it to sound.

"Hey." Kate turned, ambling back down the hall. Juliet watched her stop, just a few feet away, and turn back, storming down into the room again.

Juliet smiled, hoping the racing of her heart couldn't be heard.

Kate's brow was furrowed, her eyes wide. "Who the hell are you?"