Following, Part One [Juliet/Jack] [R] [WIP]

May 06, 2010 20:08

“Jack.” Her hands trembled against his shoulders before she let them rest tentatively around his neck. She was staring at him in disbelief, her swollen lips parted, so still that it was almost as if she hung in suspension, outside of time.

Yet he could feel her heart beating hard against his chest, and the feeling reminded him that she was moving through time with him, that she had always been moving with him, even if he hadn’t always known it. He touched her cheek, pressed his thumb against her full bottom lip and held it there, wanting to reassure her somehow. Part of him still wanted to make this right-to tell Juliet that he would take care of her and protect her, that he loved her-but it wasn’t that exactly, not yet, and when she raised her eyebrow at him, some of her genuine astonishment evaporating, he knew all of this and bit his tongue accordingly.

“I-” he stuttered instead, “I can’t promise you anything, Juliet,” and there was supposed to be a “but” after that, but the sentence trailed off when he looked back up at her. She still had her eyebrow raised and the serene curve of her mouth was threatening to invalidate all the unformed words waiting in his throat. He felt ashamed when his eyes fell involuntarily to her body, lingering on her breasts. I want you, he could say, because at least that would be true, but it felt wrong somehow, and just thinking the words made his face hot.

“Jack,” she lifted his chin with her fingers, her eyes mocking and full of forgiveness at the same time, and then smiled sharply, the barbs at either end of her mouth cutting at both of them equally. “I don’t need you to.”

He could see then that she loved him: he could feel it, undeniable as the ocean surrounding them, and just as overwhelming. The dark fondness in her eyes frustrated him on an almost physical level: the easy way that she held her love and her resignation together, without being destroyed by the contradiction, made him want to shake her, ask him why she couldn’t hate him, be angry, tell him he was a selfish son of a bitch who should leave her alone. When he thought about himself and what he had done in these last three months on the island, much worse phrases had occurred to him. But she didn’t do any of those things. Instead, she leaned forward, her lips almost touching his ear, and whispered, “It’s ok.”

Somehow, the soft communication reminded him of being married without reminding him of Sarah: it was like pillow talk, or the way you lowered your voice in a crowded room so you couldn’t be heard by anybody else. When Juliet cupped his cheek and turned his face toward hers, he let her, transfixed by the intimacy of it. This close, he could see through the translucent parts of her shirt where it stuck to her skin; he noticed that one pearl-like button at the top was coming undone.

He swallowed and was trying to focus on her face again when she kissed him softly at the corner of his mouth. When her tongue found his, stroking against his, his hands moved to her hips, clutching and releasing as though he wanted to do both but couldn’t commit to either. He kissed her back wetly, unable to stop himself, a soft, desperate sound leaving him as he gave himself over to the action, pressing his body against hers. He felt seared wherever he touched her, her hands were in his hair, her breasts pressed against his chest, as his fingers stroked the bare skin between her blouse and her jeans. He became hard almost instantly, his reaction so quick that he couldn’t pull fast enough away to prevent her hips from pressing against him. He could hear her make a sound of surprise against his mouth as he released her, his face glowing with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry. It’s, uh, it’s been a while since I-” He had been looking away from her when he began, but when he felt her arms begin to shake against him, he looked up, his curiosity temporarily stronger than his discomfiture.

She was laughing, her eyes sparkling and warm, her fingers stroking gently at the back of his neck. His face got even more flushed, but he couldn’t help smiling back at her anyway.

“It’s ok, Jack: it’s hardly the worst thing that can happen to-”

“Hey Ja-uh…oops.” Jack turned his head to see Hurley standing in the door, looking abashed and curious at once. “Sorry for interrupting but Charlotte’s kinda bleeding all over the place and uh…” he looked at Juliet, “you’re not, like, still mad at her, are you?”

Jack felt Juliet’s arms slip from his shoulders.

“No, Hurley,” her mouth quirked up, “I’m not mad.” Her voice was different than Jack remembered it, somehow more vibrant and resonant, and he seemed to feel it even though they were no longer touching. “In fact, maybe this is my chance to patch things up with her.” She laughed a little at the corniness of the pun and then looked at him warmly, her eyes sparkling, “Jack, do you mind if I take this one?”

“Sure,” he answered, nodding slightly, “The supplies are in my tent. Everything you need should be in the grey metal box.”

“Thanks. I’ll catch up with you later,” she touched his upper arm quickly before turning toward Hurley.

Jack barely had time to answer “okay” in response before she was gone.

He stood there for quite a few moments afterward cooling off, feeling vaguely teased.

~~~

He didn’t see Juliet for the rest of that day, or most of the next, either, except when she’d come to his tent briefly to let him know of her plan. She had let Sayid and some of the others know that there was an old canoe near the beach which, with some patching, could be used to take additional passengers to the freighter, should they need to do so. She and Sayid had set out with a group of volunteers to do the repairs. Jack had decided to stay on the beach, wanting to keep an eye on Charlotte and Daniel, who, though injured, were looking as suspicious as ever.

Jack was playing (and losing) his fourth ping pong game to Hurley, no longer paying much attention to the balls that flew past him.

“Dude, you keep looking over there at the jungle. It’s no fun beating you if you’re not even trying.”

Jack sighed and focused on the man across from the table, who was visibly annoyed.

“Sorry Hurley. Maybe we should take a break for now. It’s tiring trying to watch those two and play you at the same time.”

“Right. ‘Cause that’s what you were doing,” Hurley rolled his eyes, collecting Jack’s paddle.

“What?”

“You’re looking over there ‘cause you’re waiting for Juliet to come out of the jungle. Look, I know you two are dating now or whatever. It’s alright to admit that you miss her…even if she has only been gone for like, half a day.”

“Hurley, we’re not-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. It was like this with Kate and now it’s like this with Juliet. Just know man, that if you’re serious, you should tell her, or do something about it. ‘Cause right now it looks like we’re getting off the island soon and we’re all going to have some kind of happy ending, but in case you haven’t noticed, it usually doesn’t work out that way for us. What I’m saying is, you never know when the smoke monster’s going to show up and drag somebody into the jungle, you know?”

“I-” He wasn’t sure what to say. Libby was written all over Hurley’s face, and for a second, Jack faltered. Then suddenly figures began to emerge from the tree line, first Sayid, recognizable in his wife-beater, and then Jin, holding a box of tools. When Juliet and Sun finally appeared underneath the canopy, Jack felt a certain sense of calm return to him. He had not been worried, exactly, but it was somehow reassuring to see Juliet’s strong, easy gait, the way she smiled and laughed at something Sun said to her, and then turned toward the beach, her eyes meeting his across the distance. She nodded at him and he nodded back, the heat making her and everyone else across the beach seem to wave in the air.

“Dude-” Hurley interjected.

“I got it, Hurley,” Jack answered.

~~~

As the party in the jungle got closer, Juliet made her way toward Jack as Hurley moved off toward Jin and Sun, punctuating his greeting with “dudes” that were audible from the ping pong table.

Juliet was wearing a tank top which looked dirtier than usual, some black marks stretching all the way from her cheek to her shoulder. Her hair was tied back into a ponytail messily, the wind picking up the strands as it changed direction. She moved slowly, looking tired. As she came nearer, Jack could see that her skin shone with sweat.

“Hey,” he said, smiling at the sight of her. He wanted to kiss her or touch her, but he held back out of habit, holding the pockets of his jeans open with his thumbs, turning Hurley’s words over in his head.

“Hey,” she smiled back, stopping a few feet a way from him. When he looked at her curiously, she said, “I’d better not get too close-I stink.”

“It went that well, huh?” he laughed.

“Well it’s done now, but it took longer than it needed to. We had some…communication issues.”

“Jin?”

“No-it wasn’t a language problem, exactly.”

“Oh, yeah. Sounds like what happened when we tried to build the raft.”

“Lots of yelling?”

“Uh huh. I don’t think anything you went through could be as bad as that. As long as nobody set it on fire, that is. They didn’t, did they?”

“No,” she grinned, her expression curious, “Say what you want about the Others, but they were a whole lot better at cooperating.”

“Must’ve been all those instructional Dharma videos,” he said warmly, and only realized halfway through his own sentence that she had just used had the word “they” to refer to the Others. There was a pause-maybe she realized it too-and then she shifted slightly, putting her hand on her hip.

“Well, at least we’re done for today. I can’t wait to take a shower.”

He caught himself beginning to look her up and down and stopped himself, trying to ignore the mental picture, “You’re going to the caves?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you want to come over after you’re done? I think I’m on serving duty tonight-I can probably manage to get you a choice cut of fish if you’re interested.”

“That would be great,” She smiled, her eyes sparkling the way they had the other night after he had finished kissing her.

“Be careful,” he felt himself saying as she turned toward the jungle.

“You too. Cooking can be dangerous. I should know,” she called out, her voice light and easy.

He smiled back, even though he knew she couldn’t see him.

~~~

He could just hear the first drop of rain hit the roof of his tent before the flap opened up and Juliet appeared at the door.

“Looks like I’m just in time,” she said, amused, looking back outside as the rain began to fall in earnest. She turned back to him, “Wow: I haven’t had this kind of luck in a long time-I should play the lottery.”

She stepped into the tent, her hair still wet and wavy from the shower. She was wearing something he had never seen her in before-a pair of pajama pants, striped red and pink, and a clean red tank top. Her feet were bare. She looked-soft-this way:  It seemed like what she might’ve worn when she was still living in her yellow house, safe from the elements. He didn’t realize he had been staring until she interrupted him.

“Oh-sorry about the pajamas. I had to wash my clothes, they were so dirty from the canoe. I didn’t think it would rain like this.”

“No problem,” he said, recovering, patting the spot beside him, “Come here-we just finished serving them a few minutes ago. I think they’re still hot.”

As she settled down beside him, he handed her a makeshift plate and they began to eat.

“It’s good,” she took a bite, and paused, “Since when are you on cooking duty?”

“Scott-that guy out there-you know, the one with the-”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I think he thinks I have it too easy out here. Being the doctor doesn’t exempt you from cooking duties-that’s what he said.”

“Distribution of labor-fair enough, I guess. I sure wish we could’ve managed that out there in the jungle today. I think I wrenched my back trying to drag that thing out of the weeds with Jin,” she winced, putting her half-eaten fish down to rub her own shoulder.

He put his plate to the side and looked at her.

“Do you want me to take a look at it?”

“I don’t think it’s a medical problem, Jack.”

“I know that. I meant…” he swallowed, forcing himself to continue, “Do you want a backrub?”

“You offering?” her mouth turned up slightly, her eyebrow raised, but he could see that her cheeks were slightly pink, and it made his own face feel warm as he moved closer to her. He wanted to tease her back-to keep things light, but he couldn’t think straight. The ping pong game was still bouncing through his head, making everything seem more serious than it needed to be.

“Yeah. Turn around,” he said simply as he rested his hands on her shoulders. He began to touch her lightly, rubbing his thumbs gently against the hollows between her shoulder blades, working over her neck.

Touching her felt nearly as good as it had last night. Her skin was warm and soft; her hair smelled like flowers-like the shampoo Sun had helped them make from the things in her garden, and must have given her when she came to the beach.

“That feels good,” she murmured, just loudly enough for him to catch the words as they drifted backward. They made his heart beat a little faster as he pressed his hands along her spine over the thin tank top.

“Where does it hurt?” He asked over her shoulder, slipping back into doctor mode almost automatically.

“The right side,” she took a moment before answering, “just under my shoulder blade-oh: that’s it.”

“Right there?” he asked, digging his thumbs into the spot.

“Yeah.”

After a few minutes spent working at it, her breathing began to slow and he felt her relax against his hands. Sweeping her back a few times more, he sat down cautiously, stretching out his legs on either side of hers. She turned her face toward him, startled, as he wrapped his arms around her waist, her eyes dark and shining in the lantern light, surprised but somehow still composed. He met her gaze as well as he could and then felt her lean back into his chest, letting him hold her.

“I missed you today,” he heard himself say before he could stop himself.

She moved slightly in his arms, her mouth forming a silent O. He felt awkward for only a short moment before she looked up at him, resting her head under his chin, her lips curving, and answered, “I missed you too.” Then she yawned, “Sorry. Long day.”

“Right. Hey-Juliet, why don’t you stay here tonight? It doesn’t look like the rain’s going to stop anytime soon, and I doubt your lean-to is very good at keeping it out.”

“It does get pretty wet in there,” she agreed sleepily, murmuring against his neck, “How’d you score such a nice tent?” He shivered a little and smiled against her hair.

“It isn’t so roomy with patients in here.”

“On call twenty-four seven, huh?”

“That’s the downside of having the biggest tent.”

“I’ll bet,” she giggled like a schoolchild, nudging him in the ribs, and he blushed belatedly at the double meaning. He opened his mouth to respond, but by the time he found the words, he looked down at her and saw that her whole face had changed. She was looking at the wall of the tent as though she could see through it.“They gave me a nice house too.”

“The Others.”

“Yeah. I was so impressed back then. I thought I was only going to be there for six months.” She closed her eyes and pressed close against him, and he hugged her back, unsure what to say. Then she yawned again and laughed, breaking the somber mood, and he felt relieved for not having to say anything.

“Let’s go to bed, Jack.” The words, combined with Juliet’s proximity, sent a flash of heat through his body, and he felt suddenly flushed despite her apparent disregard. He touched her arm gently and began to stand.

“Okay,” he said, “I’m just going to get rid of this fish so it doesn’t stink in here in the morning. If you want to settle in, my blankets and pillows are over there in the corner.” He bit his tongue before he could say anything else, gathering their makeshift plates and making his way outside the tent into the cool night air, where it was raining lightly but steadily. The camp was mostly quiet outside-he could see Sayid sitting under the pantry tarp, in conversation with Bernard, and Daniel and Charlotte trying to take down laundry that was soaking wet. All in all, tonight seemed peaceful, except for the rain. It looked like he wasn’t going to have any surprise patients tonight. After disposing of the dishes, Jack made his way back toward his tent, the rain cooling his skin and making him shiver.

Juliet was straightening out his blankets when he opened the door.

“Sorry-it’s kind of messy. I have trouble sleeping sometimes.” He began to unlace his shoes.

“I can’t imagine who doesn’t on this island.” When the blankets were smoothed out, she placed two airline pillows at one end, patting them for sand.

“Even people in Dharma houses?” He hesitated after taking off his socks, trying to decide whether or not it would be weirder for him to sleep in his jeans than it would be for him to take them off.  He resolved on the latter quickly, busying himself with his belt before she could tease him for his indecision.

“Especially in Dharma houses,” she continued, “It’s so quiet there, it feels dead: here, at least you can hear the ocean.”

“I don’t know,” he considered, laying his jeans on top of his laundry pile, “I kind of miss the hatch’s washing machine. And the bunk beds. Hell, even all those terrible seventies’ records that Hurley and Sayid used to play.” He turned to face her. She was lying in his bed, her long hair spread out over one of the pillows, the blankets folded over at her waist. He swallowed hard, half drawn to her and half afraid.

“Geronimo Jackson is an acquired taste,” she answered dryly, and he laughed softly, feeling sure of her but uncertain of himself.

He felt himself moving forward stupidly, a slight smile finding its way onto his face as he saw her bury hers against the pillow like she was sleeping in the most comfortable bed in the world. She lifted the covers for him as he sat down and then stretched out next to her. He reached for her tentatively, resting his arm on her waist, and before he knew it, she was nestled against his shoulder, her hair hiding her expression from him.

It was surreal to have her next to him-to touch or be touched gently by anyone felt incongruous in this weird, hostile place. The bed, neatly smoothed at both corners, and her clean-smelling clothes made him feel oddly civilized. Yet, there was something animal about the way the heat of her body soothed him, made him somehow less anxious even though he knew he had just as many reasons to worry as he’d had yesterday. He took a deep breath and tried to accept his body’s inclinations for once. Sighing, he held her close, kissing the top of her head gently, and closing his eyes.

“Goodnight,” she mumbled, half-asleep already from the sound of it.

“Night,” he answered quietly. She went to sleep very quickly-he could feel her relax against him, her fingers loosening against his chest. He wondered if she fell quickly because she was so tired or because she trusted him, or some combination of the two.

It took him longer to drift off, as it usually did, but the long, semi-conscious prelude to sleep was unusually pleasant with her near.

~~~

He was disoriented when he woke up in the middle of the night, partially because he wasn’t used to sleeping with anybody else, but also because it wasn’t clear to him why he had woken up. There had been no sound or motion, and he hadn’t been dreaming-not that he could remember, anyway. Then he looked over at Juliet and saw that her eyes were wide open.

It startled him at first, and he flinched, because he wasn’t sure whether she was awake or asleep. Her look was blank; she seemed to be staring at his sleeve; at nothing in particular.

“Juliet?” He reached for her, whispering, and she seemed struck suddenly back into motion, her eyes flicking up at him, pained, distressed at the interruption. For a minute when he looked down into the blue, he could see tears running down her face in the dark, and he felt as though he were seeing through her, hurting her somehow; hurting himself, so he looked away quickly, but hugged her to him and murmured over her shoulder, “what’s the matter?”

She didn’t answer at first, but one arm wrapped awkwardly around his neck, and he could feel her shaking, though she made no sound. Still startled, he rubbed her back and ran his hands through her hair, trying to soothe her.

“Jack,” her voice cracked on his name, “I need you to do me a favor.” His hands stilled. He had not expected the words, and drew away quickly to look at her. She looked serious, calm, her eyes clear and looking deep into him, and he didn’t know what she wanted him to promise, but he felt himself nodding anyway, unable to stop himself, though he feared what she was about to ask.

“If you get off the island, and I don’t-” The feeling was suddenly gone from her voice: she sounded as though she was talking to him through the glass at the Hydra.

“Juliet-” He seized her arms, trying to make her remember that there was nothing between them now, but she interrupted him,

“Jack-just listen to me. If you get off, and I don’t, I want you to do something for me. Will you do it?”

“Of course,” he whispered back, sounding as vehement as he felt. He was looking her over, forgetting to hide his distress. He met her eyes, and she returned his gaze, but only looked terribly doubtful and sad. He touched her face, and repeated, “Of course.” It wasn’t like before-he didn’t need convincing this time: she did.

“My sister-her name is Rachel. Rachel Carlson. She-lived in Miami, and she had a son. I don’t know his name. I don’t-” she looked up at him, her cheek twitching, the rest of her a mask, “I want you to find out if they’re still alive. And if you can-If you can do anything for them-”

“I will. Juliet-” His mind was racing, full of questions-Who was her sister? Why didn’t she know her nephew’s name, and why did she have reason to believe they wouldn’t still be alive?-he ignored them, knowing that they weren’t at all what she needed from him right now. So he pulled her close again instead. He felt her unravel against him when he whispered, “I promise.”

“Thank you,” she choked against his neck, hiding face there as she recovered.

“Juliet,” he said later into her hair, when she had stilled, and was resting against him warmly.

“Hmm?”

“I’m going to get us both off this island-I’m not going to leave you here.”

“Jack,” she sounded-and looked-like she was talking to a small child when she moved to look up at him without hurry or surprise, “I know you’re going to try-”

“Hey-” he took hold of her forearm where it rested on his chest, and met her eyes almost angrily, wanting to protest but feeling wholly at a loss for what to say.

“I know you’re going to try: I know that,” her eyes were soft for him for a moment, pained, and then she blinked and looked completely different, absolute certainty covering her face like a mask, “but I also know that nobody can promise anything on this island. And I can’t let myself-” She squeezed them shut and opened them again, “I can’t count on leaving.”

He gripped her arm harder, wanting to shake her out of her resolution.

“I’ve accepted it, Jack,” she raises her voice just enough to overcome his, “I’ve accepted that I might never see my sister again. But I want her to be ok, even if I can’t see it myself. You can understand that, can’t you? In the Hydra, you said you wanted your wife to be happy, even if-” He felt a familiar heat begin to suffuse him; his face went hot remembering that low time as a dark green blur, his desperation, his embarrassment, and Juliet watching through glass from the other end of a dingy tank as he broke down, her eyes clear and uninvolved, or so it had seemed. Now, he wondered whether in turning into himself, he had missed something in her face and eyes then-a distant mirror of his own pain.

When she looked at him now, she looked like a patient whose anesthesia was just beginning to wear off, a hint of pain in her forced placidity that even she couldn’t fully deny. He stroked her cheek gently, brushing her hair away from her face, and she accepted the gesture, looking determined and crumbling all at once.

“I’m going to-” he paused, wincing, “I’ll do whatever I can to help,” and the promise felt horribly feeble-an admission of powerlessness-and terrifically truthful at once: a more honest promise than he had ever made. She smiled at him, relief washing over her features, and he caressed her jaw with the back of his hand. She closed her eyes, the corners of her mouth still turned up at the ends, and the sight of her made him feel warm inside when he whispered, “Now I want you to promise me something.”

Her eyes opened, and she looked puzzled. He liked the look on her face-uncertainty made her look like someone who was not resigned to her fate. He imagined that she might have looked like this once, a long time ago.

“Try to have some hope that we’re going to leave. Please. I know you’ve had this dangling in front of you forever and you don’t want to lose, but this time, it’s different.”

“Okay,” she smiled back, and he could see the pain surrounding her effort, the cautious willingness in her eyes, and then she hugged him suddenly, her arms going around his neck tightly, her breath coming out in a sigh over his shoulder. He spread his hands out over her back, feeling her heart beat comfortingly against his.

“I’ll try,” she whispered.

~~~
part 2

charlotte, fan fic, following, juliet, jack, daniel, jack/juliet

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