[lost] You'll Bury Me
Title: You'll Bury Me
Author: trysts
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: done for sellthelie because she's awesome.
Character/Pairing: Sawyer and Juliet
Warnings: some sexual content
Author's Notes: post 5x05 "This Place is Death", with some spectulation to future episodes. Hope you like it sellthelie!
She grips his hand, turns it over, traces the craggy lines of his palm. Her skin is smooth, pale and in her eyes are all the mysterious of the island, spanning out into an infinity.
“If I die,” she starts.
He puts his mouth over hers, not really a kiss, just a way to shut her up.
-
They move in with each other. Maybe it shouldn’t be as simple as that, maybe there should be more awkwardness, more hesitation, unsure glances.
But there’s not. They don’t exactly have a lot of things to move, except the work clothes they’ve been handed, but Marie and Wayne are nice enough to loan them some of their things, put it in a nice neat backpack for them to take over.
Sawyer takes it. Juliet says nothing. Instead, she neatens their little place up, turns down the blankets over their beds-two beds, they both think, for now-and sees what they have to work with in the kitchen.
It so quickly settles into a routine. Sawyer waking up to Juliet making something in the kitchen-nothing ever spectacular, since Juliet is not a good cook-and a calm, soft conversation before they both have to leave to do their jobs.
One morning, he adds a kiss on his way out. Or, not really a kiss, just a brush of his lips against hers. Juliet says nothings, just smiles, and disappears into her bedroom to change.
The routine doesn’t change, just grows.
-
There are a lot of things they don’t talk about. Not because they don’t trust one another, can’t open up like that, but because that is the past and this is now, and they’ve both learned over a short span of time to accept the past as over.
Juliet always knows when Sawyer is thinking of Kate, because his eyes get a faraway look and she knows he’s gone back to that beach, back to that time, back to when she was close enough for him to count all the freckles splattered across her nose.
She thinks of Jack, but only a little, and she hopes Sawyer can’t tell. He probably can. They’ve lived so close to each other that it seems like they’ve almost stopped being two people.
“You ever wonder if Locke made it?” Sawyer asks one night, peeling off his sweaty overalls in the living room, down over his hips.
“No,” Juliet answers truthfully. She’s wearing shorts to fight the tropic heat and one of Sawyer’s tanks.
He says nothing after that, disappears into the kitchen to find whatever leftovers there are from dinner. Sawyer’s always hungry, Juliet has discovered, like he’s been starved all his life.
Quietly she asks, “Do you really want them to come back?”
She doesn’t think he hears her, but he appears at her side suddenly, hand reaching out and cupping her chin, turning her face towards his.
“If they do, we won’t have to worry.”
And he touches her nose.
-
They had buried Charlotte in a shallow grave, aware at any moment they could flash, and they had never seen Daniel again.
Since then, there has been no more flashes of light, but it’s a clear and present danger. Sawyer stares at Juliet sometimes, looking for a hint of blood across her nose, a dazed look in her eyes. He wants to find a way to keep her safe.
She could die. Worse than anything else that’s a possibility. She could die, and then where would he be? More alone than he has ever been before.
Sawyer’s survived a lot of things, but he doesn’t think he’d survive burying her.
The look Juliet sends him sometimes states the feeling is mutual.
-
Juliet kisses him-really kisses him-first, and Sawyer’s not sure why, but he accepts it, accepts her, in a way he’s never accepted anything before. It’s more than want, more than a sharp painful desire. It’s a need. He needs her, needs her here.
She’s like land in a storm, and he clings to her, presses himself against her and sinks into her.
Later, he traces patterns out across the naked skin of her back as she lays across his-their-bed, head cushioned by her arms. She doesn’t say anything, but Sawyer knows she recognizes the pattern. An octagon, pointed edges and a little curling line in the middle.
“We can’t go back,” Juliet says quietly, and Sawyer wonders who she’s thinking about. He can read her, but that’s only because most time Juliet doesn’t care if he knows everything that goes on inside her head.
If she wanted to, Juliet could keep him out. Juliet could keep everyone out if she wanted to.
He presses a kiss against the small of her back, his hands cupping her sides as his lips trace a path up her body, to her neck.
“I know,” he tells her. “I wouldn’t want to.”
The way she shifts, rolls onto her back, to look into his eyes and press her hands against the sides of his face, as if to hold him in place, tells him more about her than anything ever has. He touches her nose, touches her cheeks, images their lives in seven years, five, two.
Can’t image any of it.
Shuddering, he says, “If I die, you’ll bury me, won’t you?”
Juliet gives him the answer that he expects. The one he would’ve given.
“No. I won’t.”
-
She’s holding his hand when he sees Kate again for the first time in three years.
It’s like nothing has changed. She’s still thin and her hair is still dark and curling, her eyes warm despite the winter chill in them, her face twisted with grief and rage.
Jack is still by her side, like a wall. There are lines Sawyer has always been aware of, lines he cannot cross. Nothing about them has changed, they three, so entwined, like the Island’s favored chess pieces.
Juliet isn’t holding his hand tightly, is barely holding his hand at all, just her slender fingers brushing against his, and Sawyer realizes that’s more than anyone has ever done for him.
And everything has changed.
Author: trysts
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: done for sellthelie because she's awesome.
Character/Pairing: Sawyer and Juliet
Warnings: some sexual content
Author's Notes: post 5x05 "This Place is Death", with some spectulation to future episodes. Hope you like it sellthelie!
She grips his hand, turns it over, traces the craggy lines of his palm. Her skin is smooth, pale and in her eyes are all the mysterious of the island, spanning out into an infinity.
“If I die,” she starts.
He puts his mouth over hers, not really a kiss, just a way to shut her up.
-
They move in with each other. Maybe it shouldn’t be as simple as that, maybe there should be more awkwardness, more hesitation, unsure glances.
But there’s not. They don’t exactly have a lot of things to move, except the work clothes they’ve been handed, but Marie and Wayne are nice enough to loan them some of their things, put it in a nice neat backpack for them to take over.
Sawyer takes it. Juliet says nothing. Instead, she neatens their little place up, turns down the blankets over their beds-two beds, they both think, for now-and sees what they have to work with in the kitchen.
It so quickly settles into a routine. Sawyer waking up to Juliet making something in the kitchen-nothing ever spectacular, since Juliet is not a good cook-and a calm, soft conversation before they both have to leave to do their jobs.
One morning, he adds a kiss on his way out. Or, not really a kiss, just a brush of his lips against hers. Juliet says nothings, just smiles, and disappears into her bedroom to change.
The routine doesn’t change, just grows.
-
There are a lot of things they don’t talk about. Not because they don’t trust one another, can’t open up like that, but because that is the past and this is now, and they’ve both learned over a short span of time to accept the past as over.
Juliet always knows when Sawyer is thinking of Kate, because his eyes get a faraway look and she knows he’s gone back to that beach, back to that time, back to when she was close enough for him to count all the freckles splattered across her nose.
She thinks of Jack, but only a little, and she hopes Sawyer can’t tell. He probably can. They’ve lived so close to each other that it seems like they’ve almost stopped being two people.
“You ever wonder if Locke made it?” Sawyer asks one night, peeling off his sweaty overalls in the living room, down over his hips.
“No,” Juliet answers truthfully. She’s wearing shorts to fight the tropic heat and one of Sawyer’s tanks.
He says nothing after that, disappears into the kitchen to find whatever leftovers there are from dinner. Sawyer’s always hungry, Juliet has discovered, like he’s been starved all his life.
Quietly she asks, “Do you really want them to come back?”
She doesn’t think he hears her, but he appears at her side suddenly, hand reaching out and cupping her chin, turning her face towards his.
“If they do, we won’t have to worry.”
And he touches her nose.
-
They had buried Charlotte in a shallow grave, aware at any moment they could flash, and they had never seen Daniel again.
Since then, there has been no more flashes of light, but it’s a clear and present danger. Sawyer stares at Juliet sometimes, looking for a hint of blood across her nose, a dazed look in her eyes. He wants to find a way to keep her safe.
She could die. Worse than anything else that’s a possibility. She could die, and then where would he be? More alone than he has ever been before.
Sawyer’s survived a lot of things, but he doesn’t think he’d survive burying her.
The look Juliet sends him sometimes states the feeling is mutual.
-
Juliet kisses him-really kisses him-first, and Sawyer’s not sure why, but he accepts it, accepts her, in a way he’s never accepted anything before. It’s more than want, more than a sharp painful desire. It’s a need. He needs her, needs her here.
She’s like land in a storm, and he clings to her, presses himself against her and sinks into her.
Later, he traces patterns out across the naked skin of her back as she lays across his-their-bed, head cushioned by her arms. She doesn’t say anything, but Sawyer knows she recognizes the pattern. An octagon, pointed edges and a little curling line in the middle.
“We can’t go back,” Juliet says quietly, and Sawyer wonders who she’s thinking about. He can read her, but that’s only because most time Juliet doesn’t care if he knows everything that goes on inside her head.
If she wanted to, Juliet could keep him out. Juliet could keep everyone out if she wanted to.
He presses a kiss against the small of her back, his hands cupping her sides as his lips trace a path up her body, to her neck.
“I know,” he tells her. “I wouldn’t want to.”
The way she shifts, rolls onto her back, to look into his eyes and press her hands against the sides of his face, as if to hold him in place, tells him more about her than anything ever has. He touches her nose, touches her cheeks, images their lives in seven years, five, two.
Can’t image any of it.
Shuddering, he says, “If I die, you’ll bury me, won’t you?”
Juliet gives him the answer that he expects. The one he would’ve given.
“No. I won’t.”
-
She’s holding his hand when he sees Kate again for the first time in three years.
It’s like nothing has changed. She’s still thin and her hair is still dark and curling, her eyes warm despite the winter chill in them, her face twisted with grief and rage.
Jack is still by her side, like a wall. There are lines Sawyer has always been aware of, lines he cannot cross. Nothing about them has changed, they three, so entwined, like the Island’s favored chess pieces.
Juliet isn’t holding his hand tightly, is barely holding his hand at all, just her slender fingers brushing against his, and Sawyer realizes that’s more than anyone has ever done for him.
And everything has changed.