Haunted: A "LOST" Fic (Chs: 1/20)
Chapter One: If I Die Before I Wake
Summary: As a particular day approaches, Juliet notices some curious and unsettling personality changes in James. Takes place during the time that Sawyer and Juliet lived together during the 1970's in The Dharma Initiative.
Characters/pairings: Sawyer/Juliet
Spoilers: Everything up until (and including) 5x8: "LaFleur". References to Season 1's "Outlaws".
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 1293 (this chapter)
A/N: This is my first completed chapter fic for "LOST". Reviews are always much appreciated! :) Enjoy!
"No please-don't hurt her damn you! I won't let you!"
Juliet Burke woke with a start as she suddenly found herself under attack, in her own bed-and realized at once, with an even greater alarm, that it was in fact her lover, James, who was attacking her. It was he who was shouting; grabbing hold of her neck with a horrifying strength and intent that she didn't know he possessed, and squeezing to the point where she feared she might black out.
"James!" she tried to cry out, but she could barely get enough air out to enable herself to make a sound.
If she felt terror in this wild moment, she wasn't sure what terrified her more: the possibility of death by her own soulmate's hands-or the awful look in his eyes, one of pure revenge and hatred, that she’d never witnessed before.
"Go to hell you rotten bastard," he was saying through clenched teeth, and the death grip grew tighter. She was beginning to feel faint, and she knew she had to do something, now, if she was going to survive. Everything was happening so fast (yet at the same time, so slow) and she wondered if, perhaps, that this wasn't a dream.
She managed to free one hand from where it had gotten trapped between the twisted bed sheets, and before she could think twice, she used all of the strength and will she had left and she slapped him at once, as hard as she could, in the face.
He cried out with an animal-like yelp of pain and surprise, and much to her relief he immediately let go of his death hold, tumbling off of her as she sucked in all the air that she could, returning that life force that she would never, ever again take for granted.
God, she was terrified...even more so now that she could think. She saw him staring up at her in horror, and even though his face was crumpled up with guilt, she was suddenly furious, so furious that she could hardly speak.
"Oh Juliet...oh hell....I'm so, so sorry baby," he kept saying-staring at her in utter shock and disbelief---speaking in a voice of regret and shame she did not recognize and, more accurately, did not care for in the least. "What the hell happened..."
He was awake now and fully aware of the damage he'd done, but the last thing she was feeling at this particular moment was forgiving. This had happened before-these midnight attacks-where he'd start assaulting her in his sleep, reliving the trauma from his childhood that she knew about from reading his records. She knew it was because of the nightmares; that he wasn't awake when he did these almost unforgivable, terrifyingly terrible things. She also knew he couldn't help it---after all, he’d heard his mother die; saw his father kill himself at such a young age...but none of that was going to loosen the affect that this moment had taken upon her. This time, she decided, it had gone too far and she was not going to simply let it slide like all the others. He could have killed her just then-she could barely speak, and her throat was on fire.
When she finally did speak, she did not regret what she said. "Get some help James," was all she could manage to say bitterly in return. She wasn't going to feel sorry for him any more; let him clean up his own mess.
James remained on the floor, staring at her blankly, as he too was in a state of shock. He watched in silence as she left the room, suddenly cold...What had he just done? He couldn't understand how this had happened. Pne moment, he was in his parents' house, reliving the worst moment of his life---the next, he was back in his room in the Barracks, practically suffocating the love of his life in a choke-hold.
What the hell is wrong with you dammit? he cursed to himself, barely able to force himself, as though he were drunk, to his feet. His legs felt like rubber; his stomach coiled in guilt. He wanted to scream, to find the man who had caused all this, and kill him---strangle him, all over again.
When would it stop? The nightmares, the screams, the waking up drenched in sweat----fearing what he would possibly do next to scare her even more, terrified of harming someone he loved? He would never hurt Juliet---ever---while awake. He might have been a traumatized boy, but now he was a grown man. He was the one who should have to deal with it, not her; she did not deserve to relive it with him-and yet that was what was happening, and he could not seem to stop it.
It was the summer of 1976. They were still stuck in the Disco days, living under false pretenses in the Dharma Initiative; caught in a time warp that no one could find a way to break free of. The day was fast approaching where, halfway around the world, in another reality (or was it the same?) Anthony Cooper (known only to his mother as his own alias, "Sawyer"), would confiscate all his parents' savings, sending his father into a downward spiral of madness and rage, leading to the point where he'd kill his own wife, and then himself. He would be the only survivor-having witnessed the killing of his mother and his father's suicide, all at just eight years old.
He had thought his nightmares would had been buried with Anthony Cooper; apparently, he was wrong---for the closer the date got, the worse the nightmares became. July 8th was now only two days away…he didn't want to think about what would happen when it arrived. He knew it was crazy, but somehow he feared that time might obliterate him; that it was too absurd to have survived the same date twice (after all, when was life ever that forgiving).
James couldn't bring himself to discuss any of this with Juliet. Though they shared almost everything there was to share with each other, he could simply not allow himself to bring it up. He knew she was aware of his past from reading his records, so there was no need to inform her of it---which was a welcome relief. He wondered if she was thinking about what this upcoming day meant for him, but he dared not ask for fear of entertaining a discussion he'd rather not involve himself in. He'd rather just read a book and forget that his "other self" ever existed. With Juliet he felt free---up until a time, that was, for the day he’d always dreaded was coming upon them all too quickly. It felt as though he were on an amusement park ride that was out of control and there was no telling when, how (or if) he would ever find a way off.
Now he'd gone way too far and scared her to the point where, it seemed, she could not even look at him-let alone accept an apology from him.
He knew she needed space so he did not run after her; it was useless-it would only make things worse. She'd probably go for a walk around the barracks to calm her nerves like she had every other night that something like this had occurred (much too frequently for either one's tastes). In the meantime, he'd make coffee for them both and wait expectantly for her return, because he knew that neither one of them was getting any more sleep tonight.
Summary: As a particular day approaches, Juliet notices some curious and unsettling personality changes in James. Takes place during the time that Sawyer and Juliet lived together during the 1970's in The Dharma Initiative.
Characters/pairings: Sawyer/Juliet
Spoilers: Everything up until (and including) 5x8: "LaFleur". References to Season 1's "Outlaws".
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 1293 (this chapter)
A/N: This is my first completed chapter fic for "LOST". Reviews are always much appreciated! :) Enjoy!
"No please-don't hurt her damn you! I won't let you!"
Juliet Burke woke with a start as she suddenly found herself under attack, in her own bed-and realized at once, with an even greater alarm, that it was in fact her lover, James, who was attacking her. It was he who was shouting; grabbing hold of her neck with a horrifying strength and intent that she didn't know he possessed, and squeezing to the point where she feared she might black out.
"James!" she tried to cry out, but she could barely get enough air out to enable herself to make a sound.
If she felt terror in this wild moment, she wasn't sure what terrified her more: the possibility of death by her own soulmate's hands-or the awful look in his eyes, one of pure revenge and hatred, that she’d never witnessed before.
"Go to hell you rotten bastard," he was saying through clenched teeth, and the death grip grew tighter. She was beginning to feel faint, and she knew she had to do something, now, if she was going to survive. Everything was happening so fast (yet at the same time, so slow) and she wondered if, perhaps, that this wasn't a dream.
She managed to free one hand from where it had gotten trapped between the twisted bed sheets, and before she could think twice, she used all of the strength and will she had left and she slapped him at once, as hard as she could, in the face.
He cried out with an animal-like yelp of pain and surprise, and much to her relief he immediately let go of his death hold, tumbling off of her as she sucked in all the air that she could, returning that life force that she would never, ever again take for granted.
God, she was terrified...even more so now that she could think. She saw him staring up at her in horror, and even though his face was crumpled up with guilt, she was suddenly furious, so furious that she could hardly speak.
"Oh Juliet...oh hell....I'm so, so sorry baby," he kept saying-staring at her in utter shock and disbelief---speaking in a voice of regret and shame she did not recognize and, more accurately, did not care for in the least. "What the hell happened..."
He was awake now and fully aware of the damage he'd done, but the last thing she was feeling at this particular moment was forgiving. This had happened before-these midnight attacks-where he'd start assaulting her in his sleep, reliving the trauma from his childhood that she knew about from reading his records. She knew it was because of the nightmares; that he wasn't awake when he did these almost unforgivable, terrifyingly terrible things. She also knew he couldn't help it---after all, he’d heard his mother die; saw his father kill himself at such a young age...but none of that was going to loosen the affect that this moment had taken upon her. This time, she decided, it had gone too far and she was not going to simply let it slide like all the others. He could have killed her just then-she could barely speak, and her throat was on fire.
When she finally did speak, she did not regret what she said. "Get some help James," was all she could manage to say bitterly in return. She wasn't going to feel sorry for him any more; let him clean up his own mess.
James remained on the floor, staring at her blankly, as he too was in a state of shock. He watched in silence as she left the room, suddenly cold...What had he just done? He couldn't understand how this had happened. Pne moment, he was in his parents' house, reliving the worst moment of his life---the next, he was back in his room in the Barracks, practically suffocating the love of his life in a choke-hold.
What the hell is wrong with you dammit? he cursed to himself, barely able to force himself, as though he were drunk, to his feet. His legs felt like rubber; his stomach coiled in guilt. He wanted to scream, to find the man who had caused all this, and kill him---strangle him, all over again.
When would it stop? The nightmares, the screams, the waking up drenched in sweat----fearing what he would possibly do next to scare her even more, terrified of harming someone he loved? He would never hurt Juliet---ever---while awake. He might have been a traumatized boy, but now he was a grown man. He was the one who should have to deal with it, not her; she did not deserve to relive it with him-and yet that was what was happening, and he could not seem to stop it.
It was the summer of 1976. They were still stuck in the Disco days, living under false pretenses in the Dharma Initiative; caught in a time warp that no one could find a way to break free of. The day was fast approaching where, halfway around the world, in another reality (or was it the same?) Anthony Cooper (known only to his mother as his own alias, "Sawyer"), would confiscate all his parents' savings, sending his father into a downward spiral of madness and rage, leading to the point where he'd kill his own wife, and then himself. He would be the only survivor-having witnessed the killing of his mother and his father's suicide, all at just eight years old.
He had thought his nightmares would had been buried with Anthony Cooper; apparently, he was wrong---for the closer the date got, the worse the nightmares became. July 8th was now only two days away…he didn't want to think about what would happen when it arrived. He knew it was crazy, but somehow he feared that time might obliterate him; that it was too absurd to have survived the same date twice (after all, when was life ever that forgiving).
James couldn't bring himself to discuss any of this with Juliet. Though they shared almost everything there was to share with each other, he could simply not allow himself to bring it up. He knew she was aware of his past from reading his records, so there was no need to inform her of it---which was a welcome relief. He wondered if she was thinking about what this upcoming day meant for him, but he dared not ask for fear of entertaining a discussion he'd rather not involve himself in. He'd rather just read a book and forget that his "other self" ever existed. With Juliet he felt free---up until a time, that was, for the day he’d always dreaded was coming upon them all too quickly. It felt as though he were on an amusement park ride that was out of control and there was no telling when, how (or if) he would ever find a way off.
Now he'd gone way too far and scared her to the point where, it seemed, she could not even look at him-let alone accept an apology from him.
He knew she needed space so he did not run after her; it was useless-it would only make things worse. She'd probably go for a walk around the barracks to calm her nerves like she had every other night that something like this had occurred (much too frequently for either one's tastes). In the meantime, he'd make coffee for them both and wait expectantly for her return, because he knew that neither one of them was getting any more sleep tonight.