Sawyer/Juliet Fan Fic: Free To Stay
Title: Free To Stay - Chapter 3
Rating: PG
Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews! I love hearing feedback and you guys are simply wonderful. I know I have the tendency to switch tenses; I tried to fix that this time. I’ll probably make it a few more chapters, more or less-I guess we’ll see where I take this lol. Enjoy.
~
Chapter 3: This Fine Progression
Miles grew up distrusting love, deeming the hope of it trivial, pointless. It’s not that he denied its existence (sometimes he swore he caught a glimpse of it in the way his mother would serenely look at him), he just never had a prime example to personally believe in; his father was gone, and his mother died alone.
What was concrete, though, was money. It was a simple equation: the more you had of it, the more you benefited. It was a definite outcome compared to the chances you could take on love. This seemed less painful. This seemed more rewarding. He didn’t have to guess with money, he didn’t have to put his heart out on the line, and he didn’t have to feel so alone (or at least with wads of cash stacked up to break his fall, it was easier to deny it altogether).
He didn’t hate his mother. It wasn’t a fact he would refute after he evolved past his angst-filled adolescence, because he saw how difficult this world had been for her, saw how lonesome the cards were she was dealt. He does regret that he didn’t realize that sooner, writhing in the wake of his own confusion, his own remote pain. She was a true fighter, though-he’d give her that, but she would never understand him. A piece of her would always be afraid of him and what she could never comprehend-supernatural, or just pure human nature.
It was curious, how strong the yearning was for a little boy to know who his father was. It was curious, how someone could be given the mysterious gift to touch and to know, and they would end up feeling as isolated as the cold corpses they could communicate with.
He began using his ‘powers’ for his own benefit when he was sixteen. If the world wouldn’t appreciate him, then he’ll take all he can get-trick the vulnerable, bend the truth, and perhaps gain a hefty fortune from it all-as if he’ll receive comfort from that, as if he’ll win some sort of righteous prize he was owed for feeling so misunderstood in the first place.
When he came to this island, he didn’t expect much. Hell, when he signed up he was indifferent to whatever was in store for him as long as the cash was involved.
And then he remembered a change, remembered a feeling, remembered the spirit of a boy named Karl wondering if the girl he loved had survived. Although skeptical and indifferent in the past, maybe love once existed here. And maybe, he thought as he observed the daily progression of Juliet and Sawyer-bickering and reluctant companionship all at once-maybe, it could again. As much as he never cared to get involved, as he watched her inward battle this morning, he thought that maybe it existed. Hope, that is.
~
“How is she?” Miles inquired as he easily trekked up the couple steps from the grass to the porch of the infirmary.
It was nearing past midnight and he stayed behind in their house with Dan and Jin as Sawyer went ahead with bringing her here at Jin’s suggestion. After carrying her in, they were adamant that Sawyer was stay out here and wait until further notice. Miles could tell he didn’t like that order one bit.
“I don’t know. Maybe if Nurse Betty here would quit tryin’ to shoo me away, I’d have an answer for ya,” Sawyer quipped, nodding to the on-call nurse standing in front of the double doors.
As Rosie, who probably would’ve let him in by now if she wasn’t being supervised, fixed them with an apologetic glance and opened her mouth to timidly comment, a young doctor with brown hair and wiry glasses stepped in front of her.
“I’m sorry sir, but she’s just following policy. It’s past visiting hours and facility regulations clearly state I cannot permit you to stay if you are not blood related or legally married.” He stated straight from handbook context, as if rehearsed in front of a mirror.
As soon as Sawyer opened his mouth to retort, Miles was between him and the doctor, a palm firmly preventing Sawyer from stepping forward and effectively silencing him for the time being.
“Look, Dr-“ Miles let his eyes flick abruptly downwards to the intern’s nametag. “-Reynolds. I know that it’s late and you’re just trying to do your job, but we just need to see how our friend is doing.” Miles spoke in a controlled calm as Sawyer trudged a few feet away, muttering to himself about where exactly they could shove their facility regulations.
“Your friend?” The doctor lifted an eyebrow.
“Friend, crewmember, platonic female companion-what have you.”
Dr. Reynolds didn’t seem amused or compliant. Miles could see why Sawyer had short-circuited with him so quickly. “So that’s your relation to her?” It came out more like a curt bit of sarcasm than a question.
Sawyer piped up behind Miles at the doctor’s doubtful glance.
“What? Ya wanna signature in blood?” Sawyer sneered at him and his too-big glasses. “Well, I’m afraid all our customized pens perished in the boat crash along with our friendship certificates.”
Miles closed his eyes for a split second in amusement. Maintaining composure, he bit back a smirk and briskly turned around to give him a warning look as if to say ‘Shut up, man, I can handle this one.’ Rosie’s doe-like stare seemed to be switching back and forth from the intern to Sawyer. Miles lowered his voice.
“If you can only let one of us in, let it be him,” Miles suggested in a weary sigh as the doctor’s narrowed gaze flicked back in his direction. “I think you realize he’s about five seconds away from busting through those doors with or without your consent anyway.”
At last, the intern relented, silently nodding the okay to Rosie, who warily asked them to wait on the porch for just another moment. As soon as the nurse and the doctor were both inside, Sawyer stalked up to him.
“What did ya shush me for? I coulda lied and told them she was my old lady or something.”
Miles merely chuckled in response.
“Look man, we survived lethal flashes, somehow teleported 30 years into the past, and you two can’t even decide if you like or hate each other. I think our back stories are complicated enough without throwing holy matrimony into the mix.”
Instead of sneering on instinct, Sawyer simply smirked gratefully at him before following Rosie as she beckoned him to enter. As the white doors shut behind them both, Miles began to pace upon the creaking wooden floorboards of the porch.
A split second later, Sawyer was reemerging from the double doors.
“What? Don’t tell me you’re scared. I swear, La Fleur, if I have to hold your hand along the way-"
“Oh shut up, Bruce. The stupid doc’s gone off duty. Nurse Betty said we can both head on back there.”
Miles mumbled slightly in a response that sounded a lot like a feeble ‘oh’, blinking as he followed Sawyer in.
The infirmary seemed like a typical, sterile institution, filled with stale air, rows of empty cotton-mattress cots, and green cupboards full of unused medical supplies.
“Go ahead,” Miles urges him, signaling Sawyer to go forward and check on her as he idles by the door once they’re inside. He nods once to him as Miles takes a seat in a waiting chair placed against the wall.
As he watches Sawyer amble in past the row of beds, his vision is momentarily obscured as a woman with long dark hair takes a seat next to him. She seems to be lost in thought and he barely looks at her until she turns his way.
It was his mother, Lara.
~
“This is absurd. I don’t need more than some simple gauze-the bleeding stopped and I didn’t even fracture anything,” Juliet asserts in a quick slur, half trying to raise herself as Rosie fumbles with her bandages, urging her to lay down against the gurney.
“I know, Ms. Burke, but we had to surgically remove the glass. This warrants a bit of rest on your part. Now if you could please lie down-”
Sawyer couldn’t help but smile a little that she tried to fight sitting still, even when she’s half subdued by anesthetics, even when he’s sure she probably can’t walk all that well. He observed as she let out a sigh that sounded a lot like defeat and settled back down against the white sheets. It took a moment for the pair to realize he’s standing there.
He silently takes the chair Rosie offers him before she exits, scooting it tentatively closer to the edge of her bed as Juliet stares at the ceiling in silence.
“How are you doing?” he asks quietly, fidgeting slightly, his fingers tapping out a silent tune upon her blanket.
“Better,” she replies hazily, her voice raspy and her eyes seemingly studying a spot on the stucco.
“Better?” he repeats, an amused tone catching in his throat as he looks at her clearly, her blonde curls falling haphazardly out of its hasty bun.
“Well, drunk and bitter aren’t exactly what I’d call seeing me at my best,” she counters and bites back any signs of a smile, finally mustering the courage to make subtle eye contact.
“Yeah, well,” he breaks off, and his voice soon settles and he pauses for a moment in thought. “Look,” he starts, a little unsure of himself. “If you felt like I was makin’ ya stay here-”
“Who said you had that kind of power over me, James?” Juliet deadpans, and Sawyer gapes at her for a moment in surprise before letting out a breath that sounded somewhere in between a sigh and a chuckle.
“Yer insufferable you know that?”
“Yeah. You’re insufferable too, James,” She says lightly, a gentle glow in her sleepy gaze that wasn’t there a moment ago. She can feel the medicine lulling her to sleep now, beckoning her to close her eyes. He shakes his head as if considering her statement, leaning back in his chair with a subtle smirk on his face. He placed a hand gently on hers.
“Okay,” he mutters vaguely, as if momentarily accepting her silent proposal to not bring up anything serious-not missed subs, not apologies-as if to say for right now none of it matters, just that she’s alright.
“Okay,” she agrees softly as her eyes finally close themselves. He leaves his hand on hers, hesitant to move. As the pad of his thumb begins to make gentle circles around her knuckles he remains sitting there staring as she drifts off to unconsciousness, leaving him unsure of what this all really means.
~
TBC
I’m not really satisfied with this chapter, but I figured they deserved a nice little calm for now. Thanks for reading!
Rating: PG
Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews! I love hearing feedback and you guys are simply wonderful. I know I have the tendency to switch tenses; I tried to fix that this time. I’ll probably make it a few more chapters, more or less-I guess we’ll see where I take this lol. Enjoy.
~
Chapter 3: This Fine Progression
Miles grew up distrusting love, deeming the hope of it trivial, pointless. It’s not that he denied its existence (sometimes he swore he caught a glimpse of it in the way his mother would serenely look at him), he just never had a prime example to personally believe in; his father was gone, and his mother died alone.
What was concrete, though, was money. It was a simple equation: the more you had of it, the more you benefited. It was a definite outcome compared to the chances you could take on love. This seemed less painful. This seemed more rewarding. He didn’t have to guess with money, he didn’t have to put his heart out on the line, and he didn’t have to feel so alone (or at least with wads of cash stacked up to break his fall, it was easier to deny it altogether).
He didn’t hate his mother. It wasn’t a fact he would refute after he evolved past his angst-filled adolescence, because he saw how difficult this world had been for her, saw how lonesome the cards were she was dealt. He does regret that he didn’t realize that sooner, writhing in the wake of his own confusion, his own remote pain. She was a true fighter, though-he’d give her that, but she would never understand him. A piece of her would always be afraid of him and what she could never comprehend-supernatural, or just pure human nature.
It was curious, how strong the yearning was for a little boy to know who his father was. It was curious, how someone could be given the mysterious gift to touch and to know, and they would end up feeling as isolated as the cold corpses they could communicate with.
He began using his ‘powers’ for his own benefit when he was sixteen. If the world wouldn’t appreciate him, then he’ll take all he can get-trick the vulnerable, bend the truth, and perhaps gain a hefty fortune from it all-as if he’ll receive comfort from that, as if he’ll win some sort of righteous prize he was owed for feeling so misunderstood in the first place.
When he came to this island, he didn’t expect much. Hell, when he signed up he was indifferent to whatever was in store for him as long as the cash was involved.
And then he remembered a change, remembered a feeling, remembered the spirit of a boy named Karl wondering if the girl he loved had survived. Although skeptical and indifferent in the past, maybe love once existed here. And maybe, he thought as he observed the daily progression of Juliet and Sawyer-bickering and reluctant companionship all at once-maybe, it could again. As much as he never cared to get involved, as he watched her inward battle this morning, he thought that maybe it existed. Hope, that is.
~
“How is she?” Miles inquired as he easily trekked up the couple steps from the grass to the porch of the infirmary.
It was nearing past midnight and he stayed behind in their house with Dan and Jin as Sawyer went ahead with bringing her here at Jin’s suggestion. After carrying her in, they were adamant that Sawyer was stay out here and wait until further notice. Miles could tell he didn’t like that order one bit.
“I don’t know. Maybe if Nurse Betty here would quit tryin’ to shoo me away, I’d have an answer for ya,” Sawyer quipped, nodding to the on-call nurse standing in front of the double doors.
As Rosie, who probably would’ve let him in by now if she wasn’t being supervised, fixed them with an apologetic glance and opened her mouth to timidly comment, a young doctor with brown hair and wiry glasses stepped in front of her.
“I’m sorry sir, but she’s just following policy. It’s past visiting hours and facility regulations clearly state I cannot permit you to stay if you are not blood related or legally married.” He stated straight from handbook context, as if rehearsed in front of a mirror.
As soon as Sawyer opened his mouth to retort, Miles was between him and the doctor, a palm firmly preventing Sawyer from stepping forward and effectively silencing him for the time being.
“Look, Dr-“ Miles let his eyes flick abruptly downwards to the intern’s nametag. “-Reynolds. I know that it’s late and you’re just trying to do your job, but we just need to see how our friend is doing.” Miles spoke in a controlled calm as Sawyer trudged a few feet away, muttering to himself about where exactly they could shove their facility regulations.
“Your friend?” The doctor lifted an eyebrow.
“Friend, crewmember, platonic female companion-what have you.”
Dr. Reynolds didn’t seem amused or compliant. Miles could see why Sawyer had short-circuited with him so quickly. “So that’s your relation to her?” It came out more like a curt bit of sarcasm than a question.
Sawyer piped up behind Miles at the doctor’s doubtful glance.
“What? Ya wanna signature in blood?” Sawyer sneered at him and his too-big glasses. “Well, I’m afraid all our customized pens perished in the boat crash along with our friendship certificates.”
Miles closed his eyes for a split second in amusement. Maintaining composure, he bit back a smirk and briskly turned around to give him a warning look as if to say ‘Shut up, man, I can handle this one.’ Rosie’s doe-like stare seemed to be switching back and forth from the intern to Sawyer. Miles lowered his voice.
“If you can only let one of us in, let it be him,” Miles suggested in a weary sigh as the doctor’s narrowed gaze flicked back in his direction. “I think you realize he’s about five seconds away from busting through those doors with or without your consent anyway.”
At last, the intern relented, silently nodding the okay to Rosie, who warily asked them to wait on the porch for just another moment. As soon as the nurse and the doctor were both inside, Sawyer stalked up to him.
“What did ya shush me for? I coulda lied and told them she was my old lady or something.”
Miles merely chuckled in response.
“Look man, we survived lethal flashes, somehow teleported 30 years into the past, and you two can’t even decide if you like or hate each other. I think our back stories are complicated enough without throwing holy matrimony into the mix.”
Instead of sneering on instinct, Sawyer simply smirked gratefully at him before following Rosie as she beckoned him to enter. As the white doors shut behind them both, Miles began to pace upon the creaking wooden floorboards of the porch.
A split second later, Sawyer was reemerging from the double doors.
“What? Don’t tell me you’re scared. I swear, La Fleur, if I have to hold your hand along the way-"
“Oh shut up, Bruce. The stupid doc’s gone off duty. Nurse Betty said we can both head on back there.”
Miles mumbled slightly in a response that sounded a lot like a feeble ‘oh’, blinking as he followed Sawyer in.
The infirmary seemed like a typical, sterile institution, filled with stale air, rows of empty cotton-mattress cots, and green cupboards full of unused medical supplies.
“Go ahead,” Miles urges him, signaling Sawyer to go forward and check on her as he idles by the door once they’re inside. He nods once to him as Miles takes a seat in a waiting chair placed against the wall.
As he watches Sawyer amble in past the row of beds, his vision is momentarily obscured as a woman with long dark hair takes a seat next to him. She seems to be lost in thought and he barely looks at her until she turns his way.
It was his mother, Lara.
~
“This is absurd. I don’t need more than some simple gauze-the bleeding stopped and I didn’t even fracture anything,” Juliet asserts in a quick slur, half trying to raise herself as Rosie fumbles with her bandages, urging her to lay down against the gurney.
“I know, Ms. Burke, but we had to surgically remove the glass. This warrants a bit of rest on your part. Now if you could please lie down-”
Sawyer couldn’t help but smile a little that she tried to fight sitting still, even when she’s half subdued by anesthetics, even when he’s sure she probably can’t walk all that well. He observed as she let out a sigh that sounded a lot like defeat and settled back down against the white sheets. It took a moment for the pair to realize he’s standing there.
He silently takes the chair Rosie offers him before she exits, scooting it tentatively closer to the edge of her bed as Juliet stares at the ceiling in silence.
“How are you doing?” he asks quietly, fidgeting slightly, his fingers tapping out a silent tune upon her blanket.
“Better,” she replies hazily, her voice raspy and her eyes seemingly studying a spot on the stucco.
“Better?” he repeats, an amused tone catching in his throat as he looks at her clearly, her blonde curls falling haphazardly out of its hasty bun.
“Well, drunk and bitter aren’t exactly what I’d call seeing me at my best,” she counters and bites back any signs of a smile, finally mustering the courage to make subtle eye contact.
“Yeah, well,” he breaks off, and his voice soon settles and he pauses for a moment in thought. “Look,” he starts, a little unsure of himself. “If you felt like I was makin’ ya stay here-”
“Who said you had that kind of power over me, James?” Juliet deadpans, and Sawyer gapes at her for a moment in surprise before letting out a breath that sounded somewhere in between a sigh and a chuckle.
“Yer insufferable you know that?”
“Yeah. You’re insufferable too, James,” She says lightly, a gentle glow in her sleepy gaze that wasn’t there a moment ago. She can feel the medicine lulling her to sleep now, beckoning her to close her eyes. He shakes his head as if considering her statement, leaning back in his chair with a subtle smirk on his face. He placed a hand gently on hers.
“Okay,” he mutters vaguely, as if momentarily accepting her silent proposal to not bring up anything serious-not missed subs, not apologies-as if to say for right now none of it matters, just that she’s alright.
“Okay,” she agrees softly as her eyes finally close themselves. He leaves his hand on hers, hesitant to move. As the pad of his thumb begins to make gentle circles around her knuckles he remains sitting there staring as she drifts off to unconsciousness, leaving him unsure of what this all really means.
~
TBC
I’m not really satisfied with this chapter, but I figured they deserved a nice little calm for now. Thanks for reading!