Lost Fic: Ever After (Happily) (Sawyer/Juliet/Jack)
Title: Ever After (Happily)
Pairing: Sawyer/Juliet/Jack
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1,465
Disclaimer: Not mine. A small bit of dialogue excerpted from "Through the Looking Glass."
Summary: After the crash. After the light. After they realized it was just the three of them, him and the docs. After everything, there was this. AU s5.
A/N: For Queen hopelessfangirl who asked for “undead” and “holidays” and who shares my weird love for these three characters. My apologies for the sheer amount of schmoop here. Also it’s baby fic. I’m so sorry.
Sawyer jumps and there’s a beat, then right behind him a splash. He turns, salt water stinging his eyes, to see Jack bobbing in the water right behind him.
“What the hell are you doing, Doc?”
“Lightening the load,” Jack calls back, already paddling towards Sawyer. “You ready for a swim?”
“Son of a bitch,” Sawyer mutters, but he starts swimming anyway. No way in hell the Doc’s going to beat him to the shore.
They swim damn near neck and neck until Juliet comes into sight, sitting in the sand, a bottle clutched in her hands. She cocks her head slightly and Sawyer can’t tell if she’s surprised or irritated to see them.
“What the hell are you two doing here?”
“It looked like a nice day for a swim, Blondie.”
Jack collapses next to her, looking stricken. Sawyer follows his gaze to the smoke curling towards the sky.
“That our boat?” Sawyer asks.
Juliet passes him the bottle, her lips set in a straight line.
“It was.”
Sawyer tilts the bottle back and takes a long draw. He’s just wishing the liquor could make the scene in front of him disappear when the humming starts. The liquor’s still burning his throat when the light swallows them up.
*
After.
That’s how Sawyer (James) thinks of their life. It’s after. After the crash. After the light. After they realized it was just the three of them, him and the docs. After everything, there was this.
They go back to Dharmaville and set up camp in Juliet’s house. The place is deserted, the Others either bugged out or disappeared along with the rest of the world, but the generator still works and the pantry is stocked so they settle in.
It’s fucking weird at first. Sawyer hovers on the outside, spends more time snapping at Jack and Juliet than talking to them, but then Juliet starts showing up on the porch every night with a beer in her hand or a book and they talk. Long conversations that the Doc ain’t privy to and that gives Sawyer a certain kind of satisfaction, after awhile he realizes she’s not so bad. Hell, a little while after that he realizes she’s not bad at all.
He and Jack fight more than ever, but it’s not the same kind of fighting as it was before. There’s something about knowing he’s only got two people in the whole fucking world that makes Sawyer want to hold on to them no matter who they are.
So he plays poker with Jack, storms out when the bastard beats him, but he always, always comes back. Or Juliet finds him. Same thing really.
Eventually he pins Jack against the wall one night after a few drinks too many and kisses him full mouthed and greedy. And the Doc? Well he kisses him back and that’s all the invitation Sawyer needs. He figures it was a long time coming as they tumble onto Jack’s bed.
It’s Juliet that catches him by surprise. She corners him in the rec room one afternoon while he’s shooting a game of pool.
“I thought you weren’t screwing Jack,” she says lightly.
Sawyer smirks, doesn’t bother denying it. It’s not like they’ve got any secrets here.
“I could say the same to you, Blondie.”
She moves between him and his shot, places her hands on his hips and pulls him between her legs.
This wasn’t inevitable at all, but it’s not unwelcome either.
“Why aren’t you screwing me?” she asks.
There’s a hint of playfulness in her voice. He wouldn’t have noticed that before, but damn if it don’t make his heart beat a little faster now.
“Didn’t know you were in the market for another dancing partner, now did I?”
She slips a hand into his too long hair and pulls him down to meet her lips, slips her tongue into his mouth and doesn’t stop until she’s drawn a groan out of him.
“Shut up, James,” she mutters against his mouth.
Not long after that they all end up tangled in the same bed, laughing and fucking, Sawyer pressed in the middle like it’s the place he was always meant to be.
*
She keeps track of the days. Jack and Sawyer don’t ask her why; they just take her word for it when she tells them it’s Christmas and places a wrapped package next to each of their breakfast plates.
Sawyer pulls her onto his lap and winks.
“I’ve got it on good authority you’ve been a very bad girl this year, but Santa’s willing to make an exception. What do you want for Christmas?”
She rolls her eyes and gets up, kissing Jack’s temple as she passes.
“You two already got me something.”
Jack shoots Sawyer a look of confusion, but he just shrugs.
“Just open your presents,” she says.
Sawyer rips the paper from his gift, while Jack pulls his away slowly, careful not to rip it.
“Damn Doc, it’s going to be next Christmas by the time you get that thing open.”
“He’s right,” Juliet says, and Sawyer notes the tenseness in her voice. “Just rip it, Jack.”
Jack sighs and tears the rest of the paper off in one easy motion.
“Happy now?” he asks.
Beneath the table, Sawyer nudges Jack’s knee playfully.
“Open them,” Juliet says.
Sawyer takes the lid off his box and feels his chest immediately go tight. Next to him, Jack whispers Juliet’s name.
Sawyer fingers the frayed edge of the book, 1,001 Baby Names.
“What’s this mean?”
“It means there’s going to be four of us,” Juliet says in that infuriatingly calm voice she uses whenever she knows Sawyer’s scared shitless.
“I mean for you,” Sawyer shoots back.
Jack blinks back tears, a tiny shirt balled in his fist.
“Juliet, I know you don’t want to hear this…but we, we aren’t going to lose you. If you have this baby…”
“I’m not going to die, Jack.”
“Juliet---”
“I’m not going to die.”
And that’s her last word on the subject. It’s a pretty somber Christmas after that, none of them meeting the other’s eyes, but that night Sawyer rests his hand on her stomach while she sleeps and he prays even though he ain’t a praying kind of man.
*
Turns out she was right. Shouldn’t surprise them, she usually is.
There’s a rough patch early on where she’s pale and sickly every day and Jack won’t leave her side while Sawyer can’t stay near her, but she pushes past it until she’s big and round and walking around looking smugly at the both of them.
One afternoon she’s stretched across Sawyer’s lap and he’s reading to her from The Stand because she says it’s too hot to read for herself. She groans and he can feel the baby kicking under his hand.
“Alright, settle down in there, Rocky. I ain’t the one who decided to read the twenty pound apocalypse book. Blame your mama.”
Juliet rests her head against his chest.
“I like this book.”
“I gathered,” Sawyer says. The door slams and Jack crosses the room and collapses on the end of the couch.
“It’s too damn hot.”
“Pour yourself a glass of lemonade; you’re just in time for story hour.”
Jack slides closer and grimaces when he catches sight of the title.
“Again?”
“She likes it,” Sawyer sighs. Juliet laughs and points to where he left off.
*
Three weeks later she has a little boy on their bed. Sawyer sits behind her, holding her hands while Jack catches their son. For a few moments, there’s not a dry eye in the house.
Sawyer’s hands shake when Jack places the red-faced little boy in his arms. He can’t help but search the little boy’s face trying to find a bit of himself there. He and Jack had said it didn’t matter, the baby belonged to all of them, still Sawyer can’t look down at the kid without hoping he belongs to him just a little bit more.
“Did you put that book to good use?” Juliet whispers.
He did, dog-eared it in at least a dozen places. He kept coming back to one name; he likes the idea that his son will keep it, not toss it away the way Sawyer did with his own name.
“David,” Sawyer says.
Jack runs a hand over the baby’s wispy blond hair.
“What do you think?” he asks Juliet.
“I think it’s perfect.”
*
Three years pass before they come back. Bloody and grim, bringing nothing but pain and hell with him. It doesn’t matter. Jack squeezes Juliet’s hand and Sawyer lets David ride on his shoulders, his sticky baby hands tangling in Sawyer’s hair and they ride it out.
They make it home, the four of them, and Sawyer adds one more after to their list.
Pairing: Sawyer/Juliet/Jack
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1,465
Disclaimer: Not mine. A small bit of dialogue excerpted from "Through the Looking Glass."
Summary: After the crash. After the light. After they realized it was just the three of them, him and the docs. After everything, there was this. AU s5.
A/N: For Queen hopelessfangirl who asked for “undead” and “holidays” and who shares my weird love for these three characters. My apologies for the sheer amount of schmoop here. Also it’s baby fic. I’m so sorry.
Sawyer jumps and there’s a beat, then right behind him a splash. He turns, salt water stinging his eyes, to see Jack bobbing in the water right behind him.
“What the hell are you doing, Doc?”
“Lightening the load,” Jack calls back, already paddling towards Sawyer. “You ready for a swim?”
“Son of a bitch,” Sawyer mutters, but he starts swimming anyway. No way in hell the Doc’s going to beat him to the shore.
They swim damn near neck and neck until Juliet comes into sight, sitting in the sand, a bottle clutched in her hands. She cocks her head slightly and Sawyer can’t tell if she’s surprised or irritated to see them.
“What the hell are you two doing here?”
“It looked like a nice day for a swim, Blondie.”
Jack collapses next to her, looking stricken. Sawyer follows his gaze to the smoke curling towards the sky.
“That our boat?” Sawyer asks.
Juliet passes him the bottle, her lips set in a straight line.
“It was.”
Sawyer tilts the bottle back and takes a long draw. He’s just wishing the liquor could make the scene in front of him disappear when the humming starts. The liquor’s still burning his throat when the light swallows them up.
*
After.
That’s how Sawyer (James) thinks of their life. It’s after. After the crash. After the light. After they realized it was just the three of them, him and the docs. After everything, there was this.
They go back to Dharmaville and set up camp in Juliet’s house. The place is deserted, the Others either bugged out or disappeared along with the rest of the world, but the generator still works and the pantry is stocked so they settle in.
It’s fucking weird at first. Sawyer hovers on the outside, spends more time snapping at Jack and Juliet than talking to them, but then Juliet starts showing up on the porch every night with a beer in her hand or a book and they talk. Long conversations that the Doc ain’t privy to and that gives Sawyer a certain kind of satisfaction, after awhile he realizes she’s not so bad. Hell, a little while after that he realizes she’s not bad at all.
He and Jack fight more than ever, but it’s not the same kind of fighting as it was before. There’s something about knowing he’s only got two people in the whole fucking world that makes Sawyer want to hold on to them no matter who they are.
So he plays poker with Jack, storms out when the bastard beats him, but he always, always comes back. Or Juliet finds him. Same thing really.
Eventually he pins Jack against the wall one night after a few drinks too many and kisses him full mouthed and greedy. And the Doc? Well he kisses him back and that’s all the invitation Sawyer needs. He figures it was a long time coming as they tumble onto Jack’s bed.
It’s Juliet that catches him by surprise. She corners him in the rec room one afternoon while he’s shooting a game of pool.
“I thought you weren’t screwing Jack,” she says lightly.
Sawyer smirks, doesn’t bother denying it. It’s not like they’ve got any secrets here.
“I could say the same to you, Blondie.”
She moves between him and his shot, places her hands on his hips and pulls him between her legs.
This wasn’t inevitable at all, but it’s not unwelcome either.
“Why aren’t you screwing me?” she asks.
There’s a hint of playfulness in her voice. He wouldn’t have noticed that before, but damn if it don’t make his heart beat a little faster now.
“Didn’t know you were in the market for another dancing partner, now did I?”
She slips a hand into his too long hair and pulls him down to meet her lips, slips her tongue into his mouth and doesn’t stop until she’s drawn a groan out of him.
“Shut up, James,” she mutters against his mouth.
Not long after that they all end up tangled in the same bed, laughing and fucking, Sawyer pressed in the middle like it’s the place he was always meant to be.
*
She keeps track of the days. Jack and Sawyer don’t ask her why; they just take her word for it when she tells them it’s Christmas and places a wrapped package next to each of their breakfast plates.
Sawyer pulls her onto his lap and winks.
“I’ve got it on good authority you’ve been a very bad girl this year, but Santa’s willing to make an exception. What do you want for Christmas?”
She rolls her eyes and gets up, kissing Jack’s temple as she passes.
“You two already got me something.”
Jack shoots Sawyer a look of confusion, but he just shrugs.
“Just open your presents,” she says.
Sawyer rips the paper from his gift, while Jack pulls his away slowly, careful not to rip it.
“Damn Doc, it’s going to be next Christmas by the time you get that thing open.”
“He’s right,” Juliet says, and Sawyer notes the tenseness in her voice. “Just rip it, Jack.”
Jack sighs and tears the rest of the paper off in one easy motion.
“Happy now?” he asks.
Beneath the table, Sawyer nudges Jack’s knee playfully.
“Open them,” Juliet says.
Sawyer takes the lid off his box and feels his chest immediately go tight. Next to him, Jack whispers Juliet’s name.
Sawyer fingers the frayed edge of the book, 1,001 Baby Names.
“What’s this mean?”
“It means there’s going to be four of us,” Juliet says in that infuriatingly calm voice she uses whenever she knows Sawyer’s scared shitless.
“I mean for you,” Sawyer shoots back.
Jack blinks back tears, a tiny shirt balled in his fist.
“Juliet, I know you don’t want to hear this…but we, we aren’t going to lose you. If you have this baby…”
“I’m not going to die, Jack.”
“Juliet---”
“I’m not going to die.”
And that’s her last word on the subject. It’s a pretty somber Christmas after that, none of them meeting the other’s eyes, but that night Sawyer rests his hand on her stomach while she sleeps and he prays even though he ain’t a praying kind of man.
*
Turns out she was right. Shouldn’t surprise them, she usually is.
There’s a rough patch early on where she’s pale and sickly every day and Jack won’t leave her side while Sawyer can’t stay near her, but she pushes past it until she’s big and round and walking around looking smugly at the both of them.
One afternoon she’s stretched across Sawyer’s lap and he’s reading to her from The Stand because she says it’s too hot to read for herself. She groans and he can feel the baby kicking under his hand.
“Alright, settle down in there, Rocky. I ain’t the one who decided to read the twenty pound apocalypse book. Blame your mama.”
Juliet rests her head against his chest.
“I like this book.”
“I gathered,” Sawyer says. The door slams and Jack crosses the room and collapses on the end of the couch.
“It’s too damn hot.”
“Pour yourself a glass of lemonade; you’re just in time for story hour.”
Jack slides closer and grimaces when he catches sight of the title.
“Again?”
“She likes it,” Sawyer sighs. Juliet laughs and points to where he left off.
*
Three weeks later she has a little boy on their bed. Sawyer sits behind her, holding her hands while Jack catches their son. For a few moments, there’s not a dry eye in the house.
Sawyer’s hands shake when Jack places the red-faced little boy in his arms. He can’t help but search the little boy’s face trying to find a bit of himself there. He and Jack had said it didn’t matter, the baby belonged to all of them, still Sawyer can’t look down at the kid without hoping he belongs to him just a little bit more.
“Did you put that book to good use?” Juliet whispers.
He did, dog-eared it in at least a dozen places. He kept coming back to one name; he likes the idea that his son will keep it, not toss it away the way Sawyer did with his own name.
“David,” Sawyer says.
Jack runs a hand over the baby’s wispy blond hair.
“What do you think?” he asks Juliet.
“I think it’s perfect.”
*
Three years pass before they come back. Bloody and grim, bringing nothing but pain and hell with him. It doesn’t matter. Jack squeezes Juliet’s hand and Sawyer lets David ride on his shoulders, his sticky baby hands tangling in Sawyer’s hair and they ride it out.
They make it home, the four of them, and Sawyer adds one more after to their list.