(no subject)
Title: Another White Dash (Part 2/4: South)
Fandom: Lost
Characters/Pairings: Claire, Juliet, mentions of other characters.
Word Count: 1,493
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: Part three and four are up tomorrow.
Summary: AU, post island. The second month she's there she befriends a Miami-Dade cop, name of Kevin.
She settles in Florida. Miami, to be exact. She’s used to the heat by now, both from her upbringing in Australia and from time spent on the island. The fact that it’s on the opposite side of the country from where most of the other survivors have settled - up and down California - only adds to the appeal.
The second month that she’s there she befriends a Miami-Dade cop, name of Kevin. He’s got just as much as baggage as anyone, but he’s fairly easy company. They meet up on his lunch break on the rare days where she’s not working as a clerk at the local grocery store. He seems to think that she’s interesting, and she’s just grateful to have a friend. She doesn’t tell him about the island, and he doesn’t seem to make the connection even if her name was plastered on the screen just a few months ago, and every now and then people give her odd looks.
“That guy that was fired,” she starts, pausing to take a sip of her iced tea. “Turns out he’d been huffing the fumes from those aerosol Reddi-whip cans, and they caught him on camera.”
Kevin looks like he’s somewhere between amusement and amazement at the utter stupidity of the people she works with. “They could’ve had him arrested.” She raises an eyebrow. “Stealing.”
“Probably would’ve taken too much work. The manager is…isn’t it a cliché to hate your boss?”
“I think so.”
She shrugs, looking down at the napkin she’s managed to fold into one eighth of its normal size. “I guess it could be worse. Actually I know it could be worse, I’ve had worse.”
“I don’t know, grocery store clerks ain’t no great shakes.” He replies.
“I was a fry cook.” She admits, just to prove him wrong. “There is nothing worse than a fry cook who is barely getting paid minimum wage.”
“You have a point.” Kevin says, and he looks like he’s going to add something more, but he gets distracted by the waitress, come to take their order. He doesn’t hesitate at all, folding up the menu, with a smile and “I’ll have the usual.” They come here so much that the wait staff knows their orders a little too well.
The waitress, Marissa, turns to Claire, waits for her order, and Claire lets her eyes run over it one more time, trying to remember what was just on the tip of her tongue before she got into this conversation and forgot it. And as she looks up she catches a glimpse of someone familiar, heading towards the bathroom in the back.
“Claire?” Kevin asks, worry etched on his features, turning to follow her gaze. He remains none the wiser; it’s not something obvious unless you’re her. Unless you’re one of them.
“I’ll um…” she tries to think of what to say, tries to remember what she was just doing, but her mind is elsewhere, her mind is following the woman she’s just seen, and so all she says is, “I’ll be right back.”
She doesn’t give a reason, and she knows he won’t follow. It’s not like he could, she thinks, as she makes her way into the woman’s restroom, thinking this is only slightly ridiculous to track someone down in restroom. She could wait, she really could, but that doesn’t mean she will.
Neither will the other woman, she realizes, as she opens the door and finds the woman almost waiting for her, standing by the sinks. They stare at each other in the half-length mirrors that line the walls, not quite ready to say anything to each other.
Then, “I thought you were living with Jack.”
Claire looks down, wonders if everyone knows everyone else’s business, if she was just somehow left out of the loop because Jack had no desire to be in the loop and that just transferred to her. It doesn’t help that she can’t seem to stay in the same place. Or that she’s sort of avoiding everyone, trying to start over. “I was.”
“I’m guessing he didn’t kick you out. Doesn’t seem like a very Jack thing to do.”
“He didn’t kick me out. I left.” Claire nearly laughs as she says, “I was trying to get away from everything about the island. I was trying to move on. Guess that didn’t work so well.”
Though she doesn’t laugh, Claire can see the corners of her mouth turn up ever so slightly, before she turns.
Juliet looks at her with eyes that seem just as tired as Claire’s, but even so she looks more relaxed than she ever did on the island. She wonders if all their eyes look like that, tired, almost grayish in certain lights where they used to be blue or green or brown. She’s seen it in Jack. Like they’re all carrying a burden that none of them signed up for, of what happened and can never be changed.
“You live here?” Juliet asks her, and Claire simply nods. “How long?”
“A few months. It’s just…it’s temporary.” She tries to find something to say, something to ask. It’s not like they talked for hours on the island. “What made you settle down here?”
“I’m from here. My sister and my nephew live here so when we got back I figured I might as well really go back home.” Juliet turns back to the mirror, runs her hands through her hair and pulls it back into a ponytail. The dim lighting in the restroom isn’t helping either one of them in the looks department. “I’m guessing you didn’t have the same idea.”
“What?”
“You’re from Australia right? Your accent...” Claire nods in response even though, slowly but surely, she’s starting to lose that, if only just a little bit. “How come you didn’t go back there?”
“Didn’t you have files on this? On the island. Don’t you already know all this?” To say she doesn’t like talking about her family is an understatement at this point, because really, what’s there to talk about.
“You still have family.”
“Not any that I’m particularly attached to. Not any that I want to see.”
Juliet nods, doesn’t prod anymore. At least not about that. After hearing her next question, Claire almost wishes she had. “I heard about Aaron.”
Claire doesn’t answer that, doesn’t acknowledge it. She shivers at the name, forcing herself not to tear up. Not to get upset. She can’t think about him. She just can’t.
“For what it’s worth I’m sorry. I didn’t know...I didn’t know what the effects of leaving the island would be.” Juliet looks at her in the mirror, almost expectantly, waiting to see some kind of forgiveness in her eyes, some sign that Claire isn’t going to put this all on her.
She would if she could but she can’t. Aaron got sick. They left the island and he got sick and that was it. And Juliet, she may have been one of the Others, but she was a doctor, a fertility doctor at that, and Claire knew that she had tried her damnedest to help the pregnant women on the island and if there was anything she could’ve done to help Aaron she would’ve. Juliet wasn’t this horrible person that everyone made her out to be just because she was with the Others. Claire knew that.
Even so, even though Claire can rationalize this out and remind herself that Juliet isn’t to blame, it’s still easier to pretend that she is. It’s still easier to say it was the Others fault, that they did something to her when she was pregnant. It makes it less of her own fault. And she can’t live blaming herself.
She nods in spite of herself. That’s all she’s going to give Juliet.
“I guess I’ll see you around.” Juliet tells her, sensing that this conversation is going nowhere, rightly so. She brushes past Claire, not waiting for an answer, and out the restroom door, leaving Claire staring at her own reflection. Alone.
---
A few minutes later she manages to pull herself together and head back out to her table, to Kevin, trying to put that behind her. There is no sign of Juliet.
“What was that all about?” He asks, mildly suspicious, but trying his best not to pry.
“Just a...past acquaintance.” She can’t think of anything to describe Juliet other than that. She doesn’t really know what Juliet is to her.
“You seem awfully startled for it just to be an acquaintance.”
“I just...I didn’t plan on ever seeing her again.” He’s staring at her now, and she really doesn’t want to have to explain herself, so she shakes it off, switches topics, and they, slowly but surely, get back to their normal lunchtime conversation.
---
This time next week she’s in her car, driving up the east coast.
There will be no more chance run-ins. She doesn’t need any more reminders.
Part 3
Fandom: Lost
Characters/Pairings: Claire, Juliet, mentions of other characters.
Word Count: 1,493
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: Part three and four are up tomorrow.
Summary: AU, post island. The second month she's there she befriends a Miami-Dade cop, name of Kevin.
She settles in Florida. Miami, to be exact. She’s used to the heat by now, both from her upbringing in Australia and from time spent on the island. The fact that it’s on the opposite side of the country from where most of the other survivors have settled - up and down California - only adds to the appeal.
The second month that she’s there she befriends a Miami-Dade cop, name of Kevin. He’s got just as much as baggage as anyone, but he’s fairly easy company. They meet up on his lunch break on the rare days where she’s not working as a clerk at the local grocery store. He seems to think that she’s interesting, and she’s just grateful to have a friend. She doesn’t tell him about the island, and he doesn’t seem to make the connection even if her name was plastered on the screen just a few months ago, and every now and then people give her odd looks.
“That guy that was fired,” she starts, pausing to take a sip of her iced tea. “Turns out he’d been huffing the fumes from those aerosol Reddi-whip cans, and they caught him on camera.”
Kevin looks like he’s somewhere between amusement and amazement at the utter stupidity of the people she works with. “They could’ve had him arrested.” She raises an eyebrow. “Stealing.”
“Probably would’ve taken too much work. The manager is…isn’t it a cliché to hate your boss?”
“I think so.”
She shrugs, looking down at the napkin she’s managed to fold into one eighth of its normal size. “I guess it could be worse. Actually I know it could be worse, I’ve had worse.”
“I don’t know, grocery store clerks ain’t no great shakes.” He replies.
“I was a fry cook.” She admits, just to prove him wrong. “There is nothing worse than a fry cook who is barely getting paid minimum wage.”
“You have a point.” Kevin says, and he looks like he’s going to add something more, but he gets distracted by the waitress, come to take their order. He doesn’t hesitate at all, folding up the menu, with a smile and “I’ll have the usual.” They come here so much that the wait staff knows their orders a little too well.
The waitress, Marissa, turns to Claire, waits for her order, and Claire lets her eyes run over it one more time, trying to remember what was just on the tip of her tongue before she got into this conversation and forgot it. And as she looks up she catches a glimpse of someone familiar, heading towards the bathroom in the back.
“Claire?” Kevin asks, worry etched on his features, turning to follow her gaze. He remains none the wiser; it’s not something obvious unless you’re her. Unless you’re one of them.
“I’ll um…” she tries to think of what to say, tries to remember what she was just doing, but her mind is elsewhere, her mind is following the woman she’s just seen, and so all she says is, “I’ll be right back.”
She doesn’t give a reason, and she knows he won’t follow. It’s not like he could, she thinks, as she makes her way into the woman’s restroom, thinking this is only slightly ridiculous to track someone down in restroom. She could wait, she really could, but that doesn’t mean she will.
Neither will the other woman, she realizes, as she opens the door and finds the woman almost waiting for her, standing by the sinks. They stare at each other in the half-length mirrors that line the walls, not quite ready to say anything to each other.
Then, “I thought you were living with Jack.”
Claire looks down, wonders if everyone knows everyone else’s business, if she was just somehow left out of the loop because Jack had no desire to be in the loop and that just transferred to her. It doesn’t help that she can’t seem to stay in the same place. Or that she’s sort of avoiding everyone, trying to start over. “I was.”
“I’m guessing he didn’t kick you out. Doesn’t seem like a very Jack thing to do.”
“He didn’t kick me out. I left.” Claire nearly laughs as she says, “I was trying to get away from everything about the island. I was trying to move on. Guess that didn’t work so well.”
Though she doesn’t laugh, Claire can see the corners of her mouth turn up ever so slightly, before she turns.
Juliet looks at her with eyes that seem just as tired as Claire’s, but even so she looks more relaxed than she ever did on the island. She wonders if all their eyes look like that, tired, almost grayish in certain lights where they used to be blue or green or brown. She’s seen it in Jack. Like they’re all carrying a burden that none of them signed up for, of what happened and can never be changed.
“You live here?” Juliet asks her, and Claire simply nods. “How long?”
“A few months. It’s just…it’s temporary.” She tries to find something to say, something to ask. It’s not like they talked for hours on the island. “What made you settle down here?”
“I’m from here. My sister and my nephew live here so when we got back I figured I might as well really go back home.” Juliet turns back to the mirror, runs her hands through her hair and pulls it back into a ponytail. The dim lighting in the restroom isn’t helping either one of them in the looks department. “I’m guessing you didn’t have the same idea.”
“What?”
“You’re from Australia right? Your accent...” Claire nods in response even though, slowly but surely, she’s starting to lose that, if only just a little bit. “How come you didn’t go back there?”
“Didn’t you have files on this? On the island. Don’t you already know all this?” To say she doesn’t like talking about her family is an understatement at this point, because really, what’s there to talk about.
“You still have family.”
“Not any that I’m particularly attached to. Not any that I want to see.”
Juliet nods, doesn’t prod anymore. At least not about that. After hearing her next question, Claire almost wishes she had. “I heard about Aaron.”
Claire doesn’t answer that, doesn’t acknowledge it. She shivers at the name, forcing herself not to tear up. Not to get upset. She can’t think about him. She just can’t.
“For what it’s worth I’m sorry. I didn’t know...I didn’t know what the effects of leaving the island would be.” Juliet looks at her in the mirror, almost expectantly, waiting to see some kind of forgiveness in her eyes, some sign that Claire isn’t going to put this all on her.
She would if she could but she can’t. Aaron got sick. They left the island and he got sick and that was it. And Juliet, she may have been one of the Others, but she was a doctor, a fertility doctor at that, and Claire knew that she had tried her damnedest to help the pregnant women on the island and if there was anything she could’ve done to help Aaron she would’ve. Juliet wasn’t this horrible person that everyone made her out to be just because she was with the Others. Claire knew that.
Even so, even though Claire can rationalize this out and remind herself that Juliet isn’t to blame, it’s still easier to pretend that she is. It’s still easier to say it was the Others fault, that they did something to her when she was pregnant. It makes it less of her own fault. And she can’t live blaming herself.
She nods in spite of herself. That’s all she’s going to give Juliet.
“I guess I’ll see you around.” Juliet tells her, sensing that this conversation is going nowhere, rightly so. She brushes past Claire, not waiting for an answer, and out the restroom door, leaving Claire staring at her own reflection. Alone.
---
A few minutes later she manages to pull herself together and head back out to her table, to Kevin, trying to put that behind her. There is no sign of Juliet.
“What was that all about?” He asks, mildly suspicious, but trying his best not to pry.
“Just a...past acquaintance.” She can’t think of anything to describe Juliet other than that. She doesn’t really know what Juliet is to her.
“You seem awfully startled for it just to be an acquaintance.”
“I just...I didn’t plan on ever seeing her again.” He’s staring at her now, and she really doesn’t want to have to explain herself, so she shakes it off, switches topics, and they, slowly but surely, get back to their normal lunchtime conversation.
---
This time next week she’s in her car, driving up the east coast.
There will be no more chance run-ins. She doesn’t need any more reminders.
Part 3