Two Steps Behind (One)
Title: Two Steps Behind
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Sawyer/Juliet + some Jate and Jack/Sawyer friendship :)
Words: 2000+
Summary: Post-Finale. "Anything which didn't happen yesterday won't happen tomorrow, right?" She didn't think she would open her eyes again. She didn't think that she would remember when everyone else didn't.
Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine.
Prologue
^
Two Steps Behind
One
They both stood frozen for a few seconds, neither willing to open their mouths long enough to voice what they were thinking. His eyes narrowed as she challenged his gaze with one that was filled with something sad and untraceable. The emotions radiating from her seemed to tickle the bad mood he had been in all day...no, all week. He tilted his head, slightly irked that she had the audacity to involve herself in his business. It had already been the flight from hell, complete with snappy flight attendants, not enough booze, and enough turbulence for him to expect the damn thing to go nose down.
"What's your problem man?" Michael dusted himself off and pulled Walt closer to him. The boy tried to shrug away both apprehensive and uncomfortable. "I'm just trying to get my boy home."
"Well, stay out of my damn way." Sawyer returned evenly, leaning close enough to knock the dark skinned man over again if his momentum allowed it.
"Hey, is there a problem here?" Jack had been watching the exchange from the other side of the crosswalk. It was impossible not to hear the two men shouting at each other even with the background noise from the cars on the freeway echoing in the distance. He poised himself between them, staring the southerner down and bracing his shoulders.
"You stay out of this, Jackass. You too Blondie," Sawyer snarled at them.
The way he said it stung. His tone was all wrong. Juliet bit her lip to keep from flinching as the con man and the doctor glared at each other venomously. She watched Jack's bottom lip tremble, knowing full well that he wasn't the type to take the first shot, where James, on the other hand, seemed quite eager.
"Look," Michael huffed after he had Walt settled in the back seat of the cab, his yellow lab strewn across his lap. The dog lifted his head long enough to glance at Juliet, his tail thumping against the car door.
"I don't want to start anything." He bared his teeth in Sawyer's direction. "We have an early flight in the morning. I'm gonna have enough trouble trying to find a hotel that'll take dogs," he half muttered.
Jack gave an impassive nod and stepped back. "Let's leave it at that then. We've all had a long day." He turned his head and gave Sawyer another hard look before he headed back in the direction of his truck. The cocktail napkin he had written his father's eulogy on burned in his pocket. He had no doubt the ink was smudged and he would have to rewrite it before tomorrow. A long day was going to easily turn into a long night. The tequila he was going to pick up on the way home seemed suddenly wrong on the eve of his father's burial. Being hung over when they put him in the ground suddenly seemed even worse. He couldn't help it.
Juliet didn't move as the taxi pulled away from the curb and six others took its place. People came and went around them, luggage scraping the concrete and car doors slamming, but neither one of them bothered to look away. They were alone, two strangers staring the other down at the entrance to one of the busiest airports in the world. It was just them, for the smallest of moments, no one else existed.
"Stupid Jackass," he wheezed after a moment. "The damn Doc's always sticking his nose in other peoples business."
"How do you know he's a doctor?" She asked, slightly breathless. Was there a chance?
His expression changed, but only for a moment, as if he was trying to figure it out for himself. The glint in his eyes was like an unshakable fatigue, but a hopeful one. Sawyer shrugged it off quickly, forgetting the question was even presented to him.
"There a reason you keep hanging around me, Sweet Cheeks?" He still sounded a little shocked.
"No, I just happen to greet everyone at the airport," she retorted dryly.
"Well, good to know." He straightened up to flash her a cocky grin. "As much as I appreciate the hospitality, the Koreans over there might be more in need of your services."
Sun and Jin were walking just up ahead of them, suitcases in tow and arguing vehemently.
Juliet frowned. He was watching something from across the traffic. She traced his gaze until it fell on Jack, bent low in the back of his trunk, trying to make room. The sky was darker now. Rain clouds were starting to move in and she could already see some of the cars starting to turn their wipers on.
"Let Jack be, James," she sighed, scolding him for old times sake. It was an automatic reaction and she damn well bit her tongue the moment the sound of her own voice filtered through her ears. He rounded on her at once, grabbing her wrist and twisting her into his body.
"How the hell do you know my name?" he hissed. His voice was so low that it made the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up. If the circumstances were any different she would be perfectly content to be there, pressed into his lanky figure with her head against his heart. They had held each other like that every night for longer than she would ever want to admit, when their two weeks together had turned into months and the months they shared had turned into years. Their bodies knew the drill even if their minds didn't. She felt the heat rolling off of him just as much as she felt the force of his hand squeezing her wrist.
Whatever Sawyer was feeling shocked him enough that he didn't move when she pulled her arm free and stepped far enough away to be out of arms reach. It almost seemed worse than the fall that had almost killed her. Had it killed her? She could feel her eyes start to tear up, wet and burning her skin. Breaking down wasn't something she let herself do very often.
Just because two people love each other, doesn't always mean they're supposed to be together.
Her mother's words spun a thousand times over in he head, almost like they were permanently etched there. A manta to live by. If she loved him she would have to leave him. She detonated the bomb―this was ultimately her choice. She did this to him.
Juliet stumbled back in the direction of the bench. She could have kicked herself, it was like her mouth wasn't connected to her brain anymore...it was connected to her heart.
James just stood there, watching dumbly as she retreated into the night. Something stung him, sending a cold sweat to the very base of his spine. He knew her, but he didn't know her. She was a complete stranger and it drove him wild. His fists clenched, knees almost buckling under the pressure he put on his legs as he stormed across the parking lot with a steadfast determination.
"Who the hell is she, Doc?" There it was again, that nickname slipping over his lips before he could reign it back in. It was like someone else was holding a tenuous control over a tiny portion of his brain―almost like a tickle. He didn't like the feeling.
Jack was crouched in the back of the Ford Bronco, moving a large purple first aid bag to his front seat. He struck his head on the roof at the sound of the southerner's irritated tone. Unlike Sawyer, he wasn't too surprised by the name, considering 'St. Sebastian's Hospital' was clearly marked on the bag he was holding.
"Excuse me?" He brushed a hand against the peak of his head, rubbing it vigorously to ease away the throbbing. He bent lower and turned around, slipping out of the back with an annoyed huff and hoping the other man didn't want to start something; it was the last thing he needed tonight.
"The snappy blonde," Sawyer almost growled, clearly annoyed. "She called you by name."
The spinal surgeon raised his eyebrows as he blinked, letting out a short puff of air. He glanced toward where they had been standing.
"You must be mistaken," he started in his attempt to picture the woman from earlier. He remembered seeing her sitting on one of the benches.
"She must have overheard it from somewhere. We've never even spoken so if you wanted me to set you up I'm afraid you're out of luck." Jack brushed the other man off and resumed his improvised cleaning.
His words only seemed to piss Sawyer off more. "She knew my name too," he grudgingly admitted with air of irritation. "And she damn well wasn't on our flight."
Why was he confiding in this stranger anyway?
Jack looked at him like he was crazy. "Look, you've obviously had a rough day..."
"You gonna give me a lolly pop, Jacko? Make it all better?" He snared.
Jack doubled back, blinking. Whatever had came over him he shook it off much faster than Sawyer had.
"I'm sorry I can't help you." He repeated firmly, not quite letting his guard down as Sawyer scoffed in his face and sauntered away, scowling.
She found another bench at the far end of the terminal and sat with her legs tucked up close to her chest and her chin resting on her knees. She was wearing the same clothes from the day she had gotten on the submarine out of Portland, thankful only for the reassuring weight of her wallet in her coat pocket and the knowledge that she had at least someway of getting home.
Where was home, anyway?
She guessed she would go back to Miami with Rachel, make up for lost time with Julian, beg for her old job back. She had been wanting it to point it used to gnawed away at her insides. Now it was just a hollow aspiration because she had nothing better to do.
The sky opened up, stalling her thoughts in a sloppy puddle of water.
"Wow dude, not a good place to be sitting."
The voice shook her enough that she opened her eyes and lifted her head. Hurley was beaming down at her.
"It's raining," he pointed out over the thunderous roar of the water. It had mixed with the tears making it difficult to determine what was now dripping off the strong ridge of her cheeks and down her nose.
Juliet felt his eyes roam over how ridiculously dressed she was, sleeveless white shirt, beige skirt, uncomfortable shoes and a grubby black wind breaker with a mud stain running from the fringe all the way up under her armpit.
She winced as the rain washed over them, somehow glad that he hadn't changed any. The next thing she knew, the larger man had shrugged out of the thick denim jacket he was wearing and folded it around her shoulders like a giant blanket.
"Thank you," she croaked, trying not to sound as pathetic as she was sure she looked.
"It's cool, name's Hurley." He gently reached to shake her hand. "Ya know, if you're waiting to catch a flight, it's a lot warmer inside. Just beware the grumpy redneck jerk pacing around the front entrance...major attitude problem."
She kept herself from reacting and almost smiled at his playful thumbs up.
"Later, dude." He waved at her, continuing on to try and remember where his Hummer was parked. Tomorrow was his mother's birthday and he still hadn't gotten her a gift.
She didn't have the energy to lift her legs and move back inside. For her the day had been much more than a boring flight across the South Pacific with irritable stewardesses and uncomfortable pillows. Even though her wounds were no longer there her muscles still felt heavy from the impossible amount of running they had been exposed to, her hands still calloused from her days on the beach.
Whether it was real or not, she didn't know, almost didn't care anymore; so even though the rain was pelting around her she didn't so much as lift a finger. Instead she just let herself sit and think about if it was all really and truly worth it
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Sawyer/Juliet + some Jate and Jack/Sawyer friendship :)
Words: 2000+
Summary: Post-Finale. "Anything which didn't happen yesterday won't happen tomorrow, right?" She didn't think she would open her eyes again. She didn't think that she would remember when everyone else didn't.
Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine.
Prologue
^
Two Steps Behind
One
They both stood frozen for a few seconds, neither willing to open their mouths long enough to voice what they were thinking. His eyes narrowed as she challenged his gaze with one that was filled with something sad and untraceable. The emotions radiating from her seemed to tickle the bad mood he had been in all day...no, all week. He tilted his head, slightly irked that she had the audacity to involve herself in his business. It had already been the flight from hell, complete with snappy flight attendants, not enough booze, and enough turbulence for him to expect the damn thing to go nose down.
"What's your problem man?" Michael dusted himself off and pulled Walt closer to him. The boy tried to shrug away both apprehensive and uncomfortable. "I'm just trying to get my boy home."
"Well, stay out of my damn way." Sawyer returned evenly, leaning close enough to knock the dark skinned man over again if his momentum allowed it.
"Hey, is there a problem here?" Jack had been watching the exchange from the other side of the crosswalk. It was impossible not to hear the two men shouting at each other even with the background noise from the cars on the freeway echoing in the distance. He poised himself between them, staring the southerner down and bracing his shoulders.
"You stay out of this, Jackass. You too Blondie," Sawyer snarled at them.
The way he said it stung. His tone was all wrong. Juliet bit her lip to keep from flinching as the con man and the doctor glared at each other venomously. She watched Jack's bottom lip tremble, knowing full well that he wasn't the type to take the first shot, where James, on the other hand, seemed quite eager.
"Look," Michael huffed after he had Walt settled in the back seat of the cab, his yellow lab strewn across his lap. The dog lifted his head long enough to glance at Juliet, his tail thumping against the car door.
"I don't want to start anything." He bared his teeth in Sawyer's direction. "We have an early flight in the morning. I'm gonna have enough trouble trying to find a hotel that'll take dogs," he half muttered.
Jack gave an impassive nod and stepped back. "Let's leave it at that then. We've all had a long day." He turned his head and gave Sawyer another hard look before he headed back in the direction of his truck. The cocktail napkin he had written his father's eulogy on burned in his pocket. He had no doubt the ink was smudged and he would have to rewrite it before tomorrow. A long day was going to easily turn into a long night. The tequila he was going to pick up on the way home seemed suddenly wrong on the eve of his father's burial. Being hung over when they put him in the ground suddenly seemed even worse. He couldn't help it.
Juliet didn't move as the taxi pulled away from the curb and six others took its place. People came and went around them, luggage scraping the concrete and car doors slamming, but neither one of them bothered to look away. They were alone, two strangers staring the other down at the entrance to one of the busiest airports in the world. It was just them, for the smallest of moments, no one else existed.
"Stupid Jackass," he wheezed after a moment. "The damn Doc's always sticking his nose in other peoples business."
"How do you know he's a doctor?" She asked, slightly breathless. Was there a chance?
His expression changed, but only for a moment, as if he was trying to figure it out for himself. The glint in his eyes was like an unshakable fatigue, but a hopeful one. Sawyer shrugged it off quickly, forgetting the question was even presented to him.
"There a reason you keep hanging around me, Sweet Cheeks?" He still sounded a little shocked.
"No, I just happen to greet everyone at the airport," she retorted dryly.
"Well, good to know." He straightened up to flash her a cocky grin. "As much as I appreciate the hospitality, the Koreans over there might be more in need of your services."
Sun and Jin were walking just up ahead of them, suitcases in tow and arguing vehemently.
Juliet frowned. He was watching something from across the traffic. She traced his gaze until it fell on Jack, bent low in the back of his trunk, trying to make room. The sky was darker now. Rain clouds were starting to move in and she could already see some of the cars starting to turn their wipers on.
"Let Jack be, James," she sighed, scolding him for old times sake. It was an automatic reaction and she damn well bit her tongue the moment the sound of her own voice filtered through her ears. He rounded on her at once, grabbing her wrist and twisting her into his body.
"How the hell do you know my name?" he hissed. His voice was so low that it made the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up. If the circumstances were any different she would be perfectly content to be there, pressed into his lanky figure with her head against his heart. They had held each other like that every night for longer than she would ever want to admit, when their two weeks together had turned into months and the months they shared had turned into years. Their bodies knew the drill even if their minds didn't. She felt the heat rolling off of him just as much as she felt the force of his hand squeezing her wrist.
Whatever Sawyer was feeling shocked him enough that he didn't move when she pulled her arm free and stepped far enough away to be out of arms reach. It almost seemed worse than the fall that had almost killed her. Had it killed her? She could feel her eyes start to tear up, wet and burning her skin. Breaking down wasn't something she let herself do very often.
Just because two people love each other, doesn't always mean they're supposed to be together.
Her mother's words spun a thousand times over in he head, almost like they were permanently etched there. A manta to live by. If she loved him she would have to leave him. She detonated the bomb―this was ultimately her choice. She did this to him.
Juliet stumbled back in the direction of the bench. She could have kicked herself, it was like her mouth wasn't connected to her brain anymore...it was connected to her heart.
James just stood there, watching dumbly as she retreated into the night. Something stung him, sending a cold sweat to the very base of his spine. He knew her, but he didn't know her. She was a complete stranger and it drove him wild. His fists clenched, knees almost buckling under the pressure he put on his legs as he stormed across the parking lot with a steadfast determination.
"Who the hell is she, Doc?" There it was again, that nickname slipping over his lips before he could reign it back in. It was like someone else was holding a tenuous control over a tiny portion of his brain―almost like a tickle. He didn't like the feeling.
Jack was crouched in the back of the Ford Bronco, moving a large purple first aid bag to his front seat. He struck his head on the roof at the sound of the southerner's irritated tone. Unlike Sawyer, he wasn't too surprised by the name, considering 'St. Sebastian's Hospital' was clearly marked on the bag he was holding.
"Excuse me?" He brushed a hand against the peak of his head, rubbing it vigorously to ease away the throbbing. He bent lower and turned around, slipping out of the back with an annoyed huff and hoping the other man didn't want to start something; it was the last thing he needed tonight.
"The snappy blonde," Sawyer almost growled, clearly annoyed. "She called you by name."
The spinal surgeon raised his eyebrows as he blinked, letting out a short puff of air. He glanced toward where they had been standing.
"You must be mistaken," he started in his attempt to picture the woman from earlier. He remembered seeing her sitting on one of the benches.
"She must have overheard it from somewhere. We've never even spoken so if you wanted me to set you up I'm afraid you're out of luck." Jack brushed the other man off and resumed his improvised cleaning.
His words only seemed to piss Sawyer off more. "She knew my name too," he grudgingly admitted with air of irritation. "And she damn well wasn't on our flight."
Why was he confiding in this stranger anyway?
Jack looked at him like he was crazy. "Look, you've obviously had a rough day..."
"You gonna give me a lolly pop, Jacko? Make it all better?" He snared.
Jack doubled back, blinking. Whatever had came over him he shook it off much faster than Sawyer had.
"I'm sorry I can't help you." He repeated firmly, not quite letting his guard down as Sawyer scoffed in his face and sauntered away, scowling.
She found another bench at the far end of the terminal and sat with her legs tucked up close to her chest and her chin resting on her knees. She was wearing the same clothes from the day she had gotten on the submarine out of Portland, thankful only for the reassuring weight of her wallet in her coat pocket and the knowledge that she had at least someway of getting home.
Where was home, anyway?
She guessed she would go back to Miami with Rachel, make up for lost time with Julian, beg for her old job back. She had been wanting it to point it used to gnawed away at her insides. Now it was just a hollow aspiration because she had nothing better to do.
The sky opened up, stalling her thoughts in a sloppy puddle of water.
"Wow dude, not a good place to be sitting."
The voice shook her enough that she opened her eyes and lifted her head. Hurley was beaming down at her.
"It's raining," he pointed out over the thunderous roar of the water. It had mixed with the tears making it difficult to determine what was now dripping off the strong ridge of her cheeks and down her nose.
Juliet felt his eyes roam over how ridiculously dressed she was, sleeveless white shirt, beige skirt, uncomfortable shoes and a grubby black wind breaker with a mud stain running from the fringe all the way up under her armpit.
She winced as the rain washed over them, somehow glad that he hadn't changed any. The next thing she knew, the larger man had shrugged out of the thick denim jacket he was wearing and folded it around her shoulders like a giant blanket.
"Thank you," she croaked, trying not to sound as pathetic as she was sure she looked.
"It's cool, name's Hurley." He gently reached to shake her hand. "Ya know, if you're waiting to catch a flight, it's a lot warmer inside. Just beware the grumpy redneck jerk pacing around the front entrance...major attitude problem."
She kept herself from reacting and almost smiled at his playful thumbs up.
"Later, dude." He waved at her, continuing on to try and remember where his Hummer was parked. Tomorrow was his mother's birthday and he still hadn't gotten her a gift.
She didn't have the energy to lift her legs and move back inside. For her the day had been much more than a boring flight across the South Pacific with irritable stewardesses and uncomfortable pillows. Even though her wounds were no longer there her muscles still felt heavy from the impossible amount of running they had been exposed to, her hands still calloused from her days on the beach.
Whether it was real or not, she didn't know, almost didn't care anymore; so even though the rain was pelting around her she didn't so much as lift a finger. Instead she just let herself sit and think about if it was all really and truly worth it