[lost] creature comforts
Title: Creature Comforts
Author: lizzyrebel
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: none
Character/Pairing: Juliet, Sawyer, Claire
Spoilers/Warnings: post-rescue
Author's Notes: just some general angst. And something to show my glee over Sawyer's developement and Juliet's sheer badassery.
Sawyer stares out at the ocean. Juliet watches him watch the surf. Discreetly, of course, with her face angled inward toward the line of trees, her knotted and matted hair shielding the eye that stays focused on him.
He is tall against the backdrop of a blue sky, narrow and straight, his shoulders stiff, his hands shoved into his pockets. The sea’s breeze toys with his blonde hair, lifting it off his sweating neck, and water laps at his shoeless feet.
Juliet doesn’t know what he’s thinking about, but she doesn’t pretend to want to know. She’s mostly looking for signs of fatigue. With Jack gone, she’s the only person on the beach who knows anything about medicine and she’s trying her best to pick up Jack’s slack.
But Sawyer looks fine. No worse than usual. Juliet hasn’t really seen him at his best, but she figures she’s seen him at his worst, and he’s at least a step above that.
It’s been a week and half since he dragged a near unconscious Claire to them, all but shoving Juliet into the tent where she had passed out, demanding that Juliet tend to the young woman. Juliet went through the routine check-up-mostly to satisfy Sawyer-and pretended she didn’t hear his mumbles of killing Benjamin and Locke, though not necessarily in that order.
Never once did he ask her about Kate, or Jack, or Hurley, or even Aaron. Sawyer just knew, and he gave Juliet strict orders not to mention Aaron to Claire if she came to-later, Juliet realized he planned to do it.
Claire has spent most of her time crying, either for Aaron or for Charlie, but mostly for Aaron. Sawyer has spent nearly all his time with her. Juliet doesn’t want to say to comfort her, because that doesn’t seem to fit with Sawyer, but he never seems to stray far from her side, as if he’s afraid she’ll disappear again if he does.
The rest of the time, Sawyer is scowling at people like Bernard and Rose, and anyone else who tries to get near to Claire, saying-in his words-“she doesn’t need the comforting committee."
Claire stopped crying on the fourth day, and fell silent, talking to Sawyer only when he pushed. But Sawyer must have got something from her, because on the fifth day he left her alone and then tracked Bernard down and disappeared into the jungle with him.
Juliet wondered if he had gone to kill Locke or Ben, but hadn’t really concerned herself. Whatever bridges she’d had with Ben, she burned them long ago.
Four days after leaving, Sawyer and Bernard came back. Sawyer didn’t look like he’d shot anyone, and Juliet wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.
She didn’t say anything when Sawyer dug Alex’s grave. Alex had been precious to her, but it wasn’t really anyone on the beach’s business just what Alex had meant to Juliet.
Later, the night Sawyer covered Alex with dirt, Juliet cried the very last of her tears. When Jack had left, ushering Kate and a sobbing Aaron away from the guns that were trained on them, she hadn’t shed a single tear. Jack had done what was best, and Juliet always knew where his alliances were, just like Sawyer probably always knew where Kate’s were.
When she overheard Bernard talking to Rose, saying that they had spent two extra days looking for what was left of Karl and Rousseau but couldn’t find anything, Juliet wondered if she had to change her opinion of Sawyer, and would have cried over that if there had been any tears left. She’d run dry.
As lightly as she can, she steps toward him. Sawyer doesn’t look at her as she stands at his side, but takes the water bottle that she offers to him.
“You aren’t drinking as much as you be should.”
“You playin’ doctor now, Jewel?”
She doesn’t answer him, but Sawyer doesn’t mind, and lifts the bottle to his cracking, dry lips and swallows as much as he can in a single gulp. Juliet focuses on the water lapping at the beach, pushing sand between her toes.
“When was the last time you checked up on Claire?” he wonders.
“Two days.” At Sawyer’s scowl, Juliet adds, “There’s nothing wrong with her. Not physically, and all I can deal with the psychical.”
“Used to have a shrink on the island,” Sawyer says, mostly to himself. “Michael shot her.”
Juliet wonders why Sawyer doesn’t ask her about Kate. For the most part, she’s glad he doesn’t, because then she’d have to tell him how Kate had just grabbed Aaron and followed Jack, and hadn’t even looked back once, hadn’t mentioned Claire or Sawyer or anyone else.
Still, Juliet wonders. Not that she’ll ever broach the subject. Best to let sleeping dogs lie.
She turns away from him, glancing back at the beach. It seems so empty now, though they’ve only lost a handful of their numbers. They’ve all rebuilt their huts and tents, but they’re all closer together now, not spread apart. Even Sawyer.
If something happens again, Juliet wonders what they’ll do. With Jack and Sayid gone, there’s not a whole lot of people to look to. Bernard’s got enough concerns, and he’s not really fit for it anymore, and Jin’s of no help himself-Juliet had wondered, up until three days ago, if she would have to go back to the barracks and scavenge the med supplies for some tranquilizers-and Desmond’s gone back to drinking away his woes, and no one trusts Juliet.
And Sawyer? He isn’t the lone cowboy Juliet’s always pegged him as, at least not anymore, but she thinks Sawyer would tear out his teeth first before having anyone call him leader.
“Hey, Jewel,” Sawyer says when he senses her leaving. “About Kate-” He stopped, and then gives a quick hard shrug. “Never mind. She did what was right by her.”
She doesn’t know what makes her say it, but she hears her voice, “She told me to tell you that she was sorry. They all waited as long as they could.”
Sawyer turns and looks at her, his lips twisted in a mocking smile. “You’re a piss poor liar for an Other.”
“I’m sorry,” Juliet says.
“What for?”
Juliet comes back up beside him, turning her head slightly, looking at the hard line of his stance. His shoulders are tensed, almost unnoticeably, underneath his shirt. Sawyer doesn’t want to talk about it.
They stand like that for a while, in the foamy surf of the ocean. Juliet watches as the sunlight dances off the blue water, trying to remember what it was like to see the freighter there, but she can’t. All she remembers is endless blue.
She isn’t sure how long they both stand there, but Juliet hears the gentle crunch of bare feet on sand, but doesn’t turn. Sawyer does, and Claire gives him a small smile.
“Okay, sweetheart?” Sawyer’s voice is gruff, and Juliet’s never heard him use that tone of voice with anyone before. All the gentleness in the world.
“Yeah.” When Juliet turns to look, she notes that Claire doesn’t look to be starving herself or wasting away. Sawyer must have convinced her to eat. “Um, I’m-I’m going to go for a walk.”
“Sure thing,” Sawyer says, like he’s going to go with her, and Claire shakes his head.
“I kind-kinda want to go by myself.” When Sawyer looks mutinous, she adds, “I just want to sort some things out in my head. I need to be alone, just for a bit.”
“Don’t go far,” is all Sawyer says, trying to sound like he isn’t worrying already as Claire nods and heads out.
Juliet stays where she is, and Sawyer goes back to staring at the sea, his moodiness almost palpable. Juliet gives him five minutes.
He lasts ten.
“Alright,” he says to himself and starts to walk down the beach toward Claire, who still walks further on, her arms limp at her sides.
“She really does need to be alone,” Juliet says. “She’ll be fine, Sawyer.”
“Fine?” Sawyer whirls, the angriest she’s seen him since he got back. He points at her like it’s all her fault. “Fine? She’s lost her kid, and she’s probably never gonna see him again. ‘Fine’ isn’t the word I’d use.”
Then he stomps off, going after Claire, trying to make it look like he’s really just heading down that way to work off some steam and failing miserably. Juliet watches him again, discreetly of course, before turning back to the ocean, her hands stuffed in her pocket.
Maybe Claire isn’t the only one who needs to the comfort.
Author: lizzyrebel
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: none
Character/Pairing: Juliet, Sawyer, Claire
Spoilers/Warnings: post-rescue
Author's Notes: just some general angst. And something to show my glee over Sawyer's developement and Juliet's sheer badassery.
Sawyer stares out at the ocean. Juliet watches him watch the surf. Discreetly, of course, with her face angled inward toward the line of trees, her knotted and matted hair shielding the eye that stays focused on him.
He is tall against the backdrop of a blue sky, narrow and straight, his shoulders stiff, his hands shoved into his pockets. The sea’s breeze toys with his blonde hair, lifting it off his sweating neck, and water laps at his shoeless feet.
Juliet doesn’t know what he’s thinking about, but she doesn’t pretend to want to know. She’s mostly looking for signs of fatigue. With Jack gone, she’s the only person on the beach who knows anything about medicine and she’s trying her best to pick up Jack’s slack.
But Sawyer looks fine. No worse than usual. Juliet hasn’t really seen him at his best, but she figures she’s seen him at his worst, and he’s at least a step above that.
It’s been a week and half since he dragged a near unconscious Claire to them, all but shoving Juliet into the tent where she had passed out, demanding that Juliet tend to the young woman. Juliet went through the routine check-up-mostly to satisfy Sawyer-and pretended she didn’t hear his mumbles of killing Benjamin and Locke, though not necessarily in that order.
Never once did he ask her about Kate, or Jack, or Hurley, or even Aaron. Sawyer just knew, and he gave Juliet strict orders not to mention Aaron to Claire if she came to-later, Juliet realized he planned to do it.
Claire has spent most of her time crying, either for Aaron or for Charlie, but mostly for Aaron. Sawyer has spent nearly all his time with her. Juliet doesn’t want to say to comfort her, because that doesn’t seem to fit with Sawyer, but he never seems to stray far from her side, as if he’s afraid she’ll disappear again if he does.
The rest of the time, Sawyer is scowling at people like Bernard and Rose, and anyone else who tries to get near to Claire, saying-in his words-“she doesn’t need the comforting committee."
Claire stopped crying on the fourth day, and fell silent, talking to Sawyer only when he pushed. But Sawyer must have got something from her, because on the fifth day he left her alone and then tracked Bernard down and disappeared into the jungle with him.
Juliet wondered if he had gone to kill Locke or Ben, but hadn’t really concerned herself. Whatever bridges she’d had with Ben, she burned them long ago.
Four days after leaving, Sawyer and Bernard came back. Sawyer didn’t look like he’d shot anyone, and Juliet wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.
She didn’t say anything when Sawyer dug Alex’s grave. Alex had been precious to her, but it wasn’t really anyone on the beach’s business just what Alex had meant to Juliet.
Later, the night Sawyer covered Alex with dirt, Juliet cried the very last of her tears. When Jack had left, ushering Kate and a sobbing Aaron away from the guns that were trained on them, she hadn’t shed a single tear. Jack had done what was best, and Juliet always knew where his alliances were, just like Sawyer probably always knew where Kate’s were.
When she overheard Bernard talking to Rose, saying that they had spent two extra days looking for what was left of Karl and Rousseau but couldn’t find anything, Juliet wondered if she had to change her opinion of Sawyer, and would have cried over that if there had been any tears left. She’d run dry.
As lightly as she can, she steps toward him. Sawyer doesn’t look at her as she stands at his side, but takes the water bottle that she offers to him.
“You aren’t drinking as much as you be should.”
“You playin’ doctor now, Jewel?”
She doesn’t answer him, but Sawyer doesn’t mind, and lifts the bottle to his cracking, dry lips and swallows as much as he can in a single gulp. Juliet focuses on the water lapping at the beach, pushing sand between her toes.
“When was the last time you checked up on Claire?” he wonders.
“Two days.” At Sawyer’s scowl, Juliet adds, “There’s nothing wrong with her. Not physically, and all I can deal with the psychical.”
“Used to have a shrink on the island,” Sawyer says, mostly to himself. “Michael shot her.”
Juliet wonders why Sawyer doesn’t ask her about Kate. For the most part, she’s glad he doesn’t, because then she’d have to tell him how Kate had just grabbed Aaron and followed Jack, and hadn’t even looked back once, hadn’t mentioned Claire or Sawyer or anyone else.
Still, Juliet wonders. Not that she’ll ever broach the subject. Best to let sleeping dogs lie.
She turns away from him, glancing back at the beach. It seems so empty now, though they’ve only lost a handful of their numbers. They’ve all rebuilt their huts and tents, but they’re all closer together now, not spread apart. Even Sawyer.
If something happens again, Juliet wonders what they’ll do. With Jack and Sayid gone, there’s not a whole lot of people to look to. Bernard’s got enough concerns, and he’s not really fit for it anymore, and Jin’s of no help himself-Juliet had wondered, up until three days ago, if she would have to go back to the barracks and scavenge the med supplies for some tranquilizers-and Desmond’s gone back to drinking away his woes, and no one trusts Juliet.
And Sawyer? He isn’t the lone cowboy Juliet’s always pegged him as, at least not anymore, but she thinks Sawyer would tear out his teeth first before having anyone call him leader.
“Hey, Jewel,” Sawyer says when he senses her leaving. “About Kate-” He stopped, and then gives a quick hard shrug. “Never mind. She did what was right by her.”
She doesn’t know what makes her say it, but she hears her voice, “She told me to tell you that she was sorry. They all waited as long as they could.”
Sawyer turns and looks at her, his lips twisted in a mocking smile. “You’re a piss poor liar for an Other.”
“I’m sorry,” Juliet says.
“What for?”
Juliet comes back up beside him, turning her head slightly, looking at the hard line of his stance. His shoulders are tensed, almost unnoticeably, underneath his shirt. Sawyer doesn’t want to talk about it.
They stand like that for a while, in the foamy surf of the ocean. Juliet watches as the sunlight dances off the blue water, trying to remember what it was like to see the freighter there, but she can’t. All she remembers is endless blue.
She isn’t sure how long they both stand there, but Juliet hears the gentle crunch of bare feet on sand, but doesn’t turn. Sawyer does, and Claire gives him a small smile.
“Okay, sweetheart?” Sawyer’s voice is gruff, and Juliet’s never heard him use that tone of voice with anyone before. All the gentleness in the world.
“Yeah.” When Juliet turns to look, she notes that Claire doesn’t look to be starving herself or wasting away. Sawyer must have convinced her to eat. “Um, I’m-I’m going to go for a walk.”
“Sure thing,” Sawyer says, like he’s going to go with her, and Claire shakes his head.
“I kind-kinda want to go by myself.” When Sawyer looks mutinous, she adds, “I just want to sort some things out in my head. I need to be alone, just for a bit.”
“Don’t go far,” is all Sawyer says, trying to sound like he isn’t worrying already as Claire nods and heads out.
Juliet stays where she is, and Sawyer goes back to staring at the sea, his moodiness almost palpable. Juliet gives him five minutes.
He lasts ten.
“Alright,” he says to himself and starts to walk down the beach toward Claire, who still walks further on, her arms limp at her sides.
“She really does need to be alone,” Juliet says. “She’ll be fine, Sawyer.”
“Fine?” Sawyer whirls, the angriest she’s seen him since he got back. He points at her like it’s all her fault. “Fine? She’s lost her kid, and she’s probably never gonna see him again. ‘Fine’ isn’t the word I’d use.”
Then he stomps off, going after Claire, trying to make it look like he’s really just heading down that way to work off some steam and failing miserably. Juliet watches him again, discreetly of course, before turning back to the ocean, her hands stuffed in her pocket.
Maybe Claire isn’t the only one who needs to the comfort.