Fic: Not My Plan
Author: 
andibeth82
Rating: G
Fandom: LOST
Characters: James/Juliet
Spoilers: Season 5 up until the Oceanic 6 come back - so up until LaFleur, basically.
Word Count: 934
Note: Set immediately after James brings the Oceanic 6 into Dharma, what happened later that night.
He’s never been one to call himself a psychic, but James knows when he’s in trouble. And as he slinks back into the barracks, feeling much like a dog with its tail between its legs, he wonders if he there’s some way he could’ve avoided this.
Maybe he should’ve done something differently. Maybe he should’ve acted differently. But what did she expect? He couldn’t sit by and idly watch his friends fend for themselves, not here, not when he was the one who was supposed to take care of them. Besides, what was he supposed to do? Let them run their mouths to Phil or whoever they came across in the jungle? Their life would be over before she could argue with him.
The call was the last thing he expected to receive that morning, and he realizes now, placing one foot slowly in front of the other, that he never really rehearsed for this. For as much time as he had spent traipsing the jungle looking for them - whether he was doing it as cover story or a false hope, at this point, he wasn’t sure anymore - he never thought about what to do if he actually found them. If the call actually came. Because, hell, he never expected any of this to actually happen.
And so when it did, he panicked. He refused to tell her where he was going and he hoped that when he bolted out of bed, she wouldn’t find it strange, considering the nature of his work. That hope lasted for all of two hours, until Miles radioed him on the walkie to tell him that she had come down to the station and seen the security tapes, and that she knew why he wasn’t there. There was a warning tone to his voice, a tone James knew all too well, and he had felt something inside him flare up - a feeling not unlike the one that came over him that night three years ago, when she told him she had decided to leave.
He had only done what he had been doing for the past three years - taking charge and cleaning up messes. Only this time, his actions had come with the cost of the one person he loved more than anything resenting him for it.
He barely registers when Kate and Jack try to say goodnight to him, he doesn’t even care. He’s done his job, he’s brought them in safely, there’s nothing else for him to do except go home and figure out how to explain this all to Juliet, and hope that she was even still there to talk to him.
Taking a breath, he eases open the door and finds the house encased in darkness. For a brief moment, his heart stops and he wonders if she really did up and leave - not that he would’ve blamed her. But then he sees her shoes by the door and a half-empty coffee mug on the table, and he knows that upset or not, she never would have left the house without cleaning up after herself.
Shedding his jumpsuit, he tosses his keys on the table with a dull clang and after a quick glance to make sure she hasn’t migrated to the living room couch, he makes his way to the bedroom. He squints into the darkness and in the dim glow of the outside light, he can just barely make out a lump under the covers. She’s curled up on her side of the bed, unmoving and obviously not willing to talk.
James pauses, rubbing his face, not knowing exactly how to do this. Part of him wishes he could stand here like this forever, not having to open his mouth and address anything, but he knows she had heard him open the door, and he knows that she now senses him in the room.
“I know you’re upset.”
She doesn’t answer and moves only slightly, pressing her face deeper into the comforter. He takes a tentative step forward, easing onto the bed next to her.
“I was wrong. Look. I was wrong, okay? An’ you have every right to hate me, hell, you can be upset all you want…” He sighs, placing his head in his hands, willing himself to keep his emotions in check.
“Just…give me one night. That’s all I’m askin’. I just need one night where we’re okay.”
He needs it. He needs it because he has to believe that if things are going to go shit, that she’s going to be there with him and that they’re still going to have this - the one stable thing he’s ever had in his life.
Juliet feels the tears as they roll down the side of her face, into the pillow, and she wants so badly to stay mad at him because it’s what he deserves, it’s what he deserves after hurting her like this when she’s done nothing but stood by his side for the past three years.
Goddammit.
Without a word, without caring about how pathetic she must look, she sits up and reaches for his body, pulling him into bed. As he positions himself in his usual pose - his head on her chest, his arm around her shoulder - he feels her rigid body relax against his skin.
He knows she needs it, too.
“Thank you.”
She’s too tired to argue, too tired to even return the sentiment. All she wants to do is hold him, to sleep with him by her side, and to hope that maybe tomorrow when she wakes up, this nightmare will be over.
andibeth82
Rating: G
Fandom: LOST
Characters: James/Juliet
Spoilers: Season 5 up until the Oceanic 6 come back - so up until LaFleur, basically.
Word Count: 934
Note: Set immediately after James brings the Oceanic 6 into Dharma, what happened later that night.
He’s never been one to call himself a psychic, but James knows when he’s in trouble. And as he slinks back into the barracks, feeling much like a dog with its tail between its legs, he wonders if he there’s some way he could’ve avoided this.
Maybe he should’ve done something differently. Maybe he should’ve acted differently. But what did she expect? He couldn’t sit by and idly watch his friends fend for themselves, not here, not when he was the one who was supposed to take care of them. Besides, what was he supposed to do? Let them run their mouths to Phil or whoever they came across in the jungle? Their life would be over before she could argue with him.
The call was the last thing he expected to receive that morning, and he realizes now, placing one foot slowly in front of the other, that he never really rehearsed for this. For as much time as he had spent traipsing the jungle looking for them - whether he was doing it as cover story or a false hope, at this point, he wasn’t sure anymore - he never thought about what to do if he actually found them. If the call actually came. Because, hell, he never expected any of this to actually happen.
And so when it did, he panicked. He refused to tell her where he was going and he hoped that when he bolted out of bed, she wouldn’t find it strange, considering the nature of his work. That hope lasted for all of two hours, until Miles radioed him on the walkie to tell him that she had come down to the station and seen the security tapes, and that she knew why he wasn’t there. There was a warning tone to his voice, a tone James knew all too well, and he had felt something inside him flare up - a feeling not unlike the one that came over him that night three years ago, when she told him she had decided to leave.
He had only done what he had been doing for the past three years - taking charge and cleaning up messes. Only this time, his actions had come with the cost of the one person he loved more than anything resenting him for it.
He barely registers when Kate and Jack try to say goodnight to him, he doesn’t even care. He’s done his job, he’s brought them in safely, there’s nothing else for him to do except go home and figure out how to explain this all to Juliet, and hope that she was even still there to talk to him.
Taking a breath, he eases open the door and finds the house encased in darkness. For a brief moment, his heart stops and he wonders if she really did up and leave - not that he would’ve blamed her. But then he sees her shoes by the door and a half-empty coffee mug on the table, and he knows that upset or not, she never would have left the house without cleaning up after herself.
Shedding his jumpsuit, he tosses his keys on the table with a dull clang and after a quick glance to make sure she hasn’t migrated to the living room couch, he makes his way to the bedroom. He squints into the darkness and in the dim glow of the outside light, he can just barely make out a lump under the covers. She’s curled up on her side of the bed, unmoving and obviously not willing to talk.
James pauses, rubbing his face, not knowing exactly how to do this. Part of him wishes he could stand here like this forever, not having to open his mouth and address anything, but he knows she had heard him open the door, and he knows that she now senses him in the room.
“I know you’re upset.”
She doesn’t answer and moves only slightly, pressing her face deeper into the comforter. He takes a tentative step forward, easing onto the bed next to her.
“I was wrong. Look. I was wrong, okay? An’ you have every right to hate me, hell, you can be upset all you want…” He sighs, placing his head in his hands, willing himself to keep his emotions in check.
“Just…give me one night. That’s all I’m askin’. I just need one night where we’re okay.”
He needs it. He needs it because he has to believe that if things are going to go shit, that she’s going to be there with him and that they’re still going to have this - the one stable thing he’s ever had in his life.
Juliet feels the tears as they roll down the side of her face, into the pillow, and she wants so badly to stay mad at him because it’s what he deserves, it’s what he deserves after hurting her like this when she’s done nothing but stood by his side for the past three years.
Goddammit.
Without a word, without caring about how pathetic she must look, she sits up and reaches for his body, pulling him into bed. As he positions himself in his usual pose - his head on her chest, his arm around her shoulder - he feels her rigid body relax against his skin.
He knows she needs it, too.
“Thank you.”
She’s too tired to argue, too tired to even return the sentiment. All she wants to do is hold him, to sleep with him by her side, and to hope that maybe tomorrow when she wakes up, this nightmare will be over.