Following, Part Twenty-Two [R] [Jack/Juliet] [WIP]
~~
“God, it’s like hell, isn’t it?”
Charlotte’s hair was colorless as she moved in front of Jack: the light from the fire had turned everything around them red, so that the shade had begun to lose all meaning. In no direction that he looked could he see to the end of the flames, and before the wind shifted the smoke away from him, it had seemed to him that the whole island was on fire.
Vast as the blaze was, he barely felt it. When Charlotte had nodded at him, affirming that she had seen Juliet, the gesture had wrung his heart, made sweat trickle down the back of his neck. He had only realized then how strangely steady Juliet had made him feel over the past few days, as if he really still was the same person through all of the flashes through space and time. Now, he felt like had come slightly unhinged; his desire to see her, to have her in his presence and to know that she was alive felt like thirst, like a physical craving. When he reached out through the smoke for Charlotte, the movement was almost convulsive.
“Why couldn’t you bring her to me, when you woke me up?” The knot that was holding his throat closed loosened suddenly as he touched her arm, and Charlotte looked up at him nervously, biting her lip.
“Because she’s unconscious.”
“She’s-” he floundered, his mind stumbling painfully on the idea, “She’s unconscious? Did you check her pulse? Did you-”
“Jack, she’s alive: I may not look like it now, but I think I can still tell the difference.” Charlotte’s eyes flicked down at his fingers where they had wrapped around her wrist.
“I’m sorry,” he released her abruptly, trying hard to compose himself, “I just-”
“I know,” she sighed after a moment, her sharp blue eyes dulling in sympathy. As he drew away from her, he felt her pat the back of his hand, and the movement was so awkward, so unlike her, that it almost made him laugh, half-mad with the anxiety that was still threading through him.
It was easy to suppress the impulse, however: another question about Juliet was already rising to his lips.
But before he had a chance to form the words, Charlotte’s whole face changed, her eyes widening, her jaw dropping open, and he just had time to realize that she was looking at something behind him before the air fanned out around him, a massive vibration shaking through the jungle. For an instant as he turned to face the source, the smoke vanished, and he could see with perfect clarity the yellow and red light that was surging toward them, glimmering over the surface of the blackened trees.
At first, he thought it had been another flash, but when he heard the sound of trunks crashing to the ground, and the smoke bloomed again, milky and thick around them, he realized that it had been an explosion. He choked on the black air, his eyes burning and watering: the smoke had become so dense so quickly that he couldn’t see Charlotte next to him. He didn’t even know she was still there until he heard her voice.
“Bloody hell,” she coughed, and then there was a short pause, “Jack?”
“I’m here,” he returned anxiously, trying to figure out whether the explosion had come from the direction in which they had been heading.
“Christ. Do you smell that? It’s gunpowder. No wonder the smoke was so black-I should have- God-do you think that somebody could’ve set this fire?”
Her words brushed against his mind, refusing to sink in.
“Charlotte-” he interrupted her, “Where’s Juliet?” While he was speaking the smoke began to dissipate, and he could see Charlotte again blurrily as she looked up at him through the thinning black air: his eyes were watering so much that at first, it was hard to distinguish the features of her face.
“She wasn’t over there, Jack. Just give me a second to-” her eyes darted suddenly to the left and she took hold of his elbow, “Come on,” she pulled him through a group of large and hollow trees slumping toward one another, gaping with flames.
“There was a rock,” she said after a moment, half to herself and half to him, and his eyes flicked over the scene in front of them, aching with the effort of keeping them open. When he saw a large, dark shape on the horizon, he tapped Charlotte’s arm impatiently.
“Is that-” he began breathlessly.
She followed the direction of his gaze.
“Yeah,” she said, just before another explosion rang out behind them.
~~
Part Twenty-Three
“God, it’s like hell, isn’t it?”
Charlotte’s hair was colorless as she moved in front of Jack: the light from the fire had turned everything around them red, so that the shade had begun to lose all meaning. In no direction that he looked could he see to the end of the flames, and before the wind shifted the smoke away from him, it had seemed to him that the whole island was on fire.
Vast as the blaze was, he barely felt it. When Charlotte had nodded at him, affirming that she had seen Juliet, the gesture had wrung his heart, made sweat trickle down the back of his neck. He had only realized then how strangely steady Juliet had made him feel over the past few days, as if he really still was the same person through all of the flashes through space and time. Now, he felt like had come slightly unhinged; his desire to see her, to have her in his presence and to know that she was alive felt like thirst, like a physical craving. When he reached out through the smoke for Charlotte, the movement was almost convulsive.
“Why couldn’t you bring her to me, when you woke me up?” The knot that was holding his throat closed loosened suddenly as he touched her arm, and Charlotte looked up at him nervously, biting her lip.
“Because she’s unconscious.”
“She’s-” he floundered, his mind stumbling painfully on the idea, “She’s unconscious? Did you check her pulse? Did you-”
“Jack, she’s alive: I may not look like it now, but I think I can still tell the difference.” Charlotte’s eyes flicked down at his fingers where they had wrapped around her wrist.
“I’m sorry,” he released her abruptly, trying hard to compose himself, “I just-”
“I know,” she sighed after a moment, her sharp blue eyes dulling in sympathy. As he drew away from her, he felt her pat the back of his hand, and the movement was so awkward, so unlike her, that it almost made him laugh, half-mad with the anxiety that was still threading through him.
It was easy to suppress the impulse, however: another question about Juliet was already rising to his lips.
But before he had a chance to form the words, Charlotte’s whole face changed, her eyes widening, her jaw dropping open, and he just had time to realize that she was looking at something behind him before the air fanned out around him, a massive vibration shaking through the jungle. For an instant as he turned to face the source, the smoke vanished, and he could see with perfect clarity the yellow and red light that was surging toward them, glimmering over the surface of the blackened trees.
At first, he thought it had been another flash, but when he heard the sound of trunks crashing to the ground, and the smoke bloomed again, milky and thick around them, he realized that it had been an explosion. He choked on the black air, his eyes burning and watering: the smoke had become so dense so quickly that he couldn’t see Charlotte next to him. He didn’t even know she was still there until he heard her voice.
“Bloody hell,” she coughed, and then there was a short pause, “Jack?”
“I’m here,” he returned anxiously, trying to figure out whether the explosion had come from the direction in which they had been heading.
“Christ. Do you smell that? It’s gunpowder. No wonder the smoke was so black-I should have- God-do you think that somebody could’ve set this fire?”
Her words brushed against his mind, refusing to sink in.
“Charlotte-” he interrupted her, “Where’s Juliet?” While he was speaking the smoke began to dissipate, and he could see Charlotte again blurrily as she looked up at him through the thinning black air: his eyes were watering so much that at first, it was hard to distinguish the features of her face.
“She wasn’t over there, Jack. Just give me a second to-” her eyes darted suddenly to the left and she took hold of his elbow, “Come on,” she pulled him through a group of large and hollow trees slumping toward one another, gaping with flames.
“There was a rock,” she said after a moment, half to herself and half to him, and his eyes flicked over the scene in front of them, aching with the effort of keeping them open. When he saw a large, dark shape on the horizon, he tapped Charlotte’s arm impatiently.
“Is that-” he began breathlessly.
She followed the direction of his gaze.
“Yeah,” she said, just before another explosion rang out behind them.
~~
Part Twenty-Three