LOST Fic: Juliet & Kate : Fire in her eyes: Chapter 6
Title: Fire in her eyes
Author(s): kassandra_luem & carlyisnot
Fandom: Lost
Pairing: Juliet & Kate- (Juliate!)
Rating: PG ish for now
Summary:* "I know all about you, Juliet. You're dead already. Completely dead on the inside. You're not even a human being anymore."
"You know what, Kate? Maybe you're right."*
**The aftermath of a suspicious fire causes Kate to re-evaluate everything she has ever believed about Juliet Burke.**
***Set roughly amidst the chaos of season 3. ***
Disclaimer: We don't own anything!
1 & 2 the2julies.livejournal.com/1328.html
3 the2julies.livejournal.com/1608.html
4 the2julies.livejournal.com/2002.html
5 the2julies.livejournal.com/2132.html
Chapter 6- Juliet
Kate’s binding her hands again, avoiding her eyes, silently condemning her. She doesn’t remember. She won’t remember. She won’t let her remember. She won’t. If this is how it’s going to be from now on, if strained silence and the occasional accusation or insult thrown her way is going to be all that she gets, then so be it. There’s no way out of this. It’s either that or telling Kate that she was the one to kill Jack Shepherd. And there’s simply no way she can do that. God, how she wants to right now, but she just can’t. Can’t even imagine the look on Kate’s face, the fading of the light in those brown eyes without wishing the world to stop. It’s no choice, really. And so silently, she accepts the nature of her life from now on.
But God, it hurts. Her shoulder hurts, her head hurts, her insides hurt. Everything hurts. And even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t know how to deal with all of this anymore. And so she does what she told herself she wouldn’t ever do again, wouldn’t ever be weak enough to have to do again: she closes her eyes and gets lost in her own head.
It was dark in the store room and Juliet had to strain her eyes to make out Kate’s face. Apparently, she wasn’t too impressed with what Juliet had found out about the deal between Jack and Ben, her brows were drawn into a straight line and the hands on her hips were telling a whole story of tension and impending fight.
“So apparently it all revolves around a sub that’s supposed to come in a month’s time. Ben promised Jack he could be on that if only he kept to his side of the deal.”
“His side of the deal… Yeah, I bet. And that’s all? They just made that deal and that’s it? I can’t believe that Jack would trust Ben’s word at face value. Are you sure there’s not more?”
Now she’s growing frustrated, too, because really, trying to find out about Ben’s secret affairs in this place is like treading on a minefield. The whole thing could blow up right in her face every moment and she really is doing her best.
“What do you think I’m doing here, Kate? Searching the library for apple pie recipes? I’m prying into Ben’s private business and trust me there’s a reason it’s called private. Especially when it comes to a man like Ben. This is dangerous, Kate. If we’re not careful, we’re both going to end up dead, so excuse me if my information doesn’t fully satisfy you.”
She swears she’s only imagining Kate’s blush, but the somewhat apologetic shrug is definitely real and also serves to calm her.
“Whatever. I know you’re placing yourself on the line here, Juliet. And truth to be told, I still don’t get why you’re doing this.”
“It doesn’t matter.” she answers and suddenly she’s glad the darkness hides her expression.
“Well, I think it matters to me.” Kate says and there’s something new in her voice that makes Juliet wish she could see her face. “I mean, I trusted Jack and now he’s … he’s doing that and I never trusted you and now you’re doing this with me.” Her hands indicate the confined space of the store room around them and if the situation wasn’t so dead serious, Juliet would be laughing. Because really, her and Kate doing this in a semi-dark, cramped store room? Somehow that sounds more like a wet fantasy than real life.
Yet here she is, in what is decidedly not a wet fantasy, with madmen practically breathing down their necks, only a few minutes away from being discovered and Kate is expecting an answer from her.
“Things aren’t always as they seem, Kate. Sometimes people do things not because they want to do them but for some reason - real or imagined - feel like they have to do them. And sometimes people just grow tired of being caught in the same old game of threats and promises and they decide to do something different for once. To do the right thing. Whatever that’s supposed to mean.”
It takes Kate a moment to process her words and once she’s sure just who Juliet’s talking about, Juliet can practically feel her eyes boring into her. And part of her berates herself for ever opening her mouth. There’s no reason to tell Kate all of that. No reason at all. They’re on a mission here, this is about getting Kate out of this place before something horrible happens. This is not about her feelings, her own buried hopes and desires and her guilt and emptiness and silent despair.
“What are you saying? That you never wanted to capture us? That you didn’t enjoy it when Tom was beating the living daylights out of Sawyer? That you were forced to flaunt your superiority at us while we were chopping those bleeding stones?”
And there it is, the attack she was waiting for, preparing herself for and finds herself still strangely unable to counter.
“I’m just saying that maybe I’m not here for the reasons you think I am.”
“So what? Aliens abducted you and put you here and took off in their shiny green little spaceship, leaving poor Juliet all alone to wander through the jungle until Ben found you and took you in and made you his own personal ice queen?”
She knows that Kate’s venting her frustrations about Jack’s betrayal right now too, that she’s just lashing out, saying whatever comes to her mind and probably going to regret this conversation later on. It doesn’t take the sting out of her words however, and Juliet can’t help but to shrink back in response.
And then comes the anger. Just who does Kate think she is? Frustrated, okay. Snapping at her, fine. But mocking her when she’s practically wearing her heart on her sleeve? Not okay. Not okay at all. Part of her wishes she had just kept her mouth shut in the first place. But what’s done is done and now that she started going down that road she somehow has to make sure Kate gets what she is saying. That things weren’t like that. She needs Kate to understand just how little of what she thinks about her is true. It shouldn’t be that important to her what Kate thinks. But it is and somehow the idea that Kate thinks she enjoyed any part of these last three years nearly makes her choke.
“No, Kate. It wasn’t like that. Nothing like that. And you know it.”
“Oh, do I? Because it damn well looked like it from where I was standing!”
“Well, maybe you didn’t look hard enough.”
“I didn’t? Come on then, tell me Juliet, what was it that I missed? What would I have seen?”
And that’s the million dollar question. Somehow, Juliet didn’t think she’d ever have to actually spell it out like that. Kate looks at her expectantly, defiantly and Juliet knows she’ll only have this one chance to explain things to Kate. To get Kate to trust her. And for a second, Juliet is scared. What if she tells her everything and Kate still decides it’s not enough? What if she says it’s been Juliet’s own fault all along? That she still had choices and if she really thinks she can win Kate over with a story like that she better develop some connection to reality soon.
She doesn’t know what it is that Kate sees in her expression then, but something in her face changes. Her eyes seem to soften in the dim light and Juliet imagines she can see some of the tension in her posture fade.
“Tell me, Juliet.” Kate prompts and her voice is gentle and it takes Juliet by surprise. She feels almost physically pulled to Kate and it’s nearly impossible to resist the sudden urge to just go with the feeling and spill everything to Kate. Trusting that warm voice and cautious concern in her eyes. But she’s learned all too well what can happen if you just go with your feelings and she tries to steel herself against Kate and the way she makes her feel.
“There’s not much to tell. I was stupid, I trusted the wrong people and I ended up here with Ben refusing to let me leave. There was nothing I wanted more than to go back, but he told me I was his and I wouldn’t go until he said so. And then he started promising me I could leave if only I did a little something for him. And I did it. And he still didn’t let me go, because there was this other something I still had to do. And another. And another. And if you say that’s no excuse for what we did to you, what I did to you, Kate, then you’re right. But please remember that in a way, I’m a prisoner here too. And that all I ever wanted was to go back home.”
There, she said it. And Kate doesn’t look disgusted. Or angry. Yet. At the moment she just looks at Juliet like she’s still trying to make sense of everything the other woman told her. And Juliet wants to keep this moment in mind like that. She doesn’t want to wait for Kate’s expression to change from intense focus to angry condemnation. Better break things off now with the illusion still in tact.
“Come on.” She says, her voice harsher than she intended it to be “let’s get you to where you’re supposed to be before someone gets suspicious.”
As Juliet moves to open to door of the store room, trying her best not to think about the possible consequences of her revelation, something suddenly holds her back and she looks down to find Kate’s hand on her wrist and then up to find her eyes searching Juliet’s face.
“I’m sorry.” Is what she hears.
“Kate!”
“Kate!”
Somehow the sounds don’t fit to the picture in her mind. Sure, she was half-expecting someone to notice their little disappearing act, to notice that Kate wasn’t were she, Juliet, was supposed to have taken her. This is what she’s been trying to prevent and prepare herself for at the same time: this is detection. But then she realizes something’s off. Why are they yelling Kate’s name? It’s not like they’d seriously expect her to just jump out at the sound of them calling her if they thought she was trying to get away. And besides, the pitch’s all wrong. That’s not the angry sound of someone calling for their prisoner. It’s the concerned voice of someone calling out for their friend. It’s Sawyer’s concerned voice and he wasn’t even near that particular store room.
“Kate!”
And Sun wasn’t at the camp at all.
She opens her eyes and takes in the familiar surroundings of Jack’s tent. The makeshift table and the bed and the cupboard. And while it takes her a second to process the sudden jump in time, the sinking feeling immediately lodges in the pit of her stomach. Kate’s gone. She’s not in the tent anymore and somehow Juliet doesn’t even need the worried shouts from outside to realize that Kate’s gone further than just back to the campfire. She replays Kate’s avoiding eyes, her uneasy stance, that confused, troubled look on her face from earlier. Yes, Kate’s gone. Gone to run as far away as she physically can get.
And she left her behind.
She doesn’t have a hard time breathing, her heart doesn’t stop. But still she feels something irrevocably change. She doesn’t know what it is, doesn’t even want to, but when she imagines her insides now, it’s all volcanic stone, black, burned stone, with the tiniest layer of ice glimmering on top.
She gets up, not really knowing why, just somehow pulled by those concerned, caring voices. They’re not calling her name, they’re calling hers, but it doesn’t matter. There’s not much left that matters, if anything at all, anyway. She finds herself still bound, but the ropes are so loose, it doesn’t take much effort to shed them. The voices are moving further away, she can’t make out who’s the one calling anymore. But she still hears her name.
Sawyer and Sayid are gone when she steps outside and so is everyone else. The camp’s dark, there are a few fires lit, but also a few places with the scattered, slightly blackened wood of a fire kicked out, with only a few embers left. She would probably wonder about that, if she could somehow find it in herself to care. It’s cold however and she shivers in her top. Without thinking about it, she moves to the next tent to find something warm to put on and she can actually hear the sand shifting between her feet as she walks. For a second, the sound and the feeling of sand under her shoes captivates her. It sparks a memory of herself as a young woman running along the beach, trying to catch a Frisbee someone else had thrown her. A woman with hair a few shades darker than her own and an easy laugh on her lips. Rachel. The memory’s gone as soon as it came and she finds herself fumbling around for a long-sleeved something in the dark of the tent. In the end, her hands touch something soft that feels large enough to be a blanket and she grabs it and heads outside again.
Her eyes wander around the deserted camp site and finally settle on the glowing embers on the ground. She ignores the bigger fires and moves towards them, somehow feeling a strange compassion for those embers, the way they keep glimmering against the cold, spending their last energy on such a useless activity as lighting up in different shades of red every now and then, hoping that somehow a gust of wind passing by will notice them and either set them ablaze again or just put them out of their misery.
She stands, contemplating, when suddenly there’s a loud wail breaking the silence that has decended over the camp. She vaguely wonders what that could have been, but then goes back to her musings. That’s until a second wail rings out and then a third one and a fourth one that somehow turns into a constant wailing she instinctively recognizes as that of an infant.
The sound beckons her closer and so she turns and follows the high-pitched cries, dropping the blanket and finding herself not giving a damn. It doesn’t take long for her to find the makeshift crib with the moving bundle inside. In the darkness she can’t make out the baby’s features, but his cries tear at her heart and she picks him up.
The sensation of the baby settling against her chest is something that catches her off guard. The warmth of that tiny body against hers, the instinctive trust with which he presses himself into her, it all makes her heart clench and then expand almost painfully. It’s been so long since she held a living baby in her arms that she’s forgotten what it feels like.
In the back of her head, the thought registers that this is Aron, Claire’s child, the child of the woman with long blonde hair that they’d been scheming to get their hands on. It doesn’t seem important now, however. Claire’s gone, along with everyone else and the baby in her arms has quieted down and is now staring at her through wide curious eyes. She wants to talk to him but the words just won’t form and so she simply stares back. And then the most amazing thing happens. He shifts a bit and then reaches out with his chubby little hands for her face, her locks, her own hands. And Juliet wants to cry, wants to wail like he did just moments earlier cause she can’t remember the last time somebody reached out to her like that, so open, so trusting, so completely without hesitation or fear. She feels the tears on her face before she can even think to keep them in and in the end, it doesn’t matter anyway. She smiles at the little human being in her arms and holds her hand to him and he grabs her little finger in his whole hand and pulls on it until she gives.
She stares in complete wonder as he starts squeaking with delight. That little boy, his eyes, his warmth, his hands and little, wriggling feet are all her world consists of now. She moves to retrieve the blanket and sits down beside the embers again while wrapping the both of them in it. There’s an odd sense of peace washing over her as she loses herself completely in their interactions, in his hands pulling on her curls, the sound of his gurgling, his squeals and his breathing.
She doesn’t know how long they sit there but sometime into the night, she doesn’t see Aron anymore when she looks at him. There’s the image of another little boy pushing to the front of her consciousness, also blonde, albeit a little taller. A boy named after his lost aunt. She looks down at the baby in her arms and it’s Julian’s face staring back at her in the soft darkness. It’s Julian’s hands reaching out for her, his laughter she can hear and finally his warm, moist breath against her collarbone as his breathing evens out. And she holds him, cradling him against her and the world’s alright. Soon Rachel will be home and then they’ll put him into his little bed upstairs and have a glass of wine on the couch before heading to bed themselves.
She doesn’t hear the voices approaching and neither does she hear the angry growl from the man she knows as Charlie. She doesn’t hear the panicked shriek from Claire or the dull thud as Jin and Sayid simultaneously drop their bags on the sand. She’s finally home in Miami and Julian’s asleep and they’re waiting for Rachel.
That is, until someone steps in front of her and wrenches the little sleeping baby from her arms. She tries to hold on to him, tries with all her might, but they’re just too strong and she’s losing her grip and she doesn’t want to hurt him and she’s pleading with them not to take him, not to take Julian away from her, but they don’t listen, they take him and she can’t see where they’re taking him, who they’re giving him to, but as soon as he’s gone they’re moving in on her and one of them snarls at her “No blondie, I don’t think so. No stealing other people’s kids tonight.” and there’s another man grinning at her in a way that makes her insides shake and then there’s a fist to her face, to her stomach, to her back. And Julian’s gone, gone, and she’s screaming his name on the top of her lungs, scrambling to get to her feet, trying to push through the cycle they form around her, but they won’t let her, they move in on her and everything’s a blur. Then, suddenly, it stops and the smaller man with dark, curly hair steps forward and takes her face in his hand, forcing her to meet his eyes.
“Stop screaming. That kid’s name is Aron and don’t you think for a second I’m buying your little act here. No-one and I mean no-one’s ever gonna let you near that kid again, you hear me?”
And it all comes flashing back to her in seconds. The compound, Ben, the fire, Jack, Kate, the tent, Kate, Julian, Rachel, Aron and Claire.
God, no!
She wrenches from Sayid’s grasp and past him. She can’t see where she’s going, it’s dark and even the dark’s blurry and she can’t breathe, but she stumbles forward. She has to get away, nothing but away from there, from them, from this.
Oh please, no!
Author(s): kassandra_luem & carlyisnot
Fandom: Lost
Pairing: Juliet & Kate- (Juliate!)
Rating: PG ish for now
Summary:* "I know all about you, Juliet. You're dead already. Completely dead on the inside. You're not even a human being anymore."
"You know what, Kate? Maybe you're right."*
**The aftermath of a suspicious fire causes Kate to re-evaluate everything she has ever believed about Juliet Burke.**
***Set roughly amidst the chaos of season 3. ***
Disclaimer: We don't own anything!
1 & 2 the2julies.livejournal.com/1328.html
3 the2julies.livejournal.com/1608.html
4 the2julies.livejournal.com/2002.html
5 the2julies.livejournal.com/2132.html
Chapter 6- Juliet
Kate’s binding her hands again, avoiding her eyes, silently condemning her. She doesn’t remember. She won’t remember. She won’t let her remember. She won’t. If this is how it’s going to be from now on, if strained silence and the occasional accusation or insult thrown her way is going to be all that she gets, then so be it. There’s no way out of this. It’s either that or telling Kate that she was the one to kill Jack Shepherd. And there’s simply no way she can do that. God, how she wants to right now, but she just can’t. Can’t even imagine the look on Kate’s face, the fading of the light in those brown eyes without wishing the world to stop. It’s no choice, really. And so silently, she accepts the nature of her life from now on.
But God, it hurts. Her shoulder hurts, her head hurts, her insides hurt. Everything hurts. And even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t know how to deal with all of this anymore. And so she does what she told herself she wouldn’t ever do again, wouldn’t ever be weak enough to have to do again: she closes her eyes and gets lost in her own head.
It was dark in the store room and Juliet had to strain her eyes to make out Kate’s face. Apparently, she wasn’t too impressed with what Juliet had found out about the deal between Jack and Ben, her brows were drawn into a straight line and the hands on her hips were telling a whole story of tension and impending fight.
“So apparently it all revolves around a sub that’s supposed to come in a month’s time. Ben promised Jack he could be on that if only he kept to his side of the deal.”
“His side of the deal… Yeah, I bet. And that’s all? They just made that deal and that’s it? I can’t believe that Jack would trust Ben’s word at face value. Are you sure there’s not more?”
Now she’s growing frustrated, too, because really, trying to find out about Ben’s secret affairs in this place is like treading on a minefield. The whole thing could blow up right in her face every moment and she really is doing her best.
“What do you think I’m doing here, Kate? Searching the library for apple pie recipes? I’m prying into Ben’s private business and trust me there’s a reason it’s called private. Especially when it comes to a man like Ben. This is dangerous, Kate. If we’re not careful, we’re both going to end up dead, so excuse me if my information doesn’t fully satisfy you.”
She swears she’s only imagining Kate’s blush, but the somewhat apologetic shrug is definitely real and also serves to calm her.
“Whatever. I know you’re placing yourself on the line here, Juliet. And truth to be told, I still don’t get why you’re doing this.”
“It doesn’t matter.” she answers and suddenly she’s glad the darkness hides her expression.
“Well, I think it matters to me.” Kate says and there’s something new in her voice that makes Juliet wish she could see her face. “I mean, I trusted Jack and now he’s … he’s doing that and I never trusted you and now you’re doing this with me.” Her hands indicate the confined space of the store room around them and if the situation wasn’t so dead serious, Juliet would be laughing. Because really, her and Kate doing this in a semi-dark, cramped store room? Somehow that sounds more like a wet fantasy than real life.
Yet here she is, in what is decidedly not a wet fantasy, with madmen practically breathing down their necks, only a few minutes away from being discovered and Kate is expecting an answer from her.
“Things aren’t always as they seem, Kate. Sometimes people do things not because they want to do them but for some reason - real or imagined - feel like they have to do them. And sometimes people just grow tired of being caught in the same old game of threats and promises and they decide to do something different for once. To do the right thing. Whatever that’s supposed to mean.”
It takes Kate a moment to process her words and once she’s sure just who Juliet’s talking about, Juliet can practically feel her eyes boring into her. And part of her berates herself for ever opening her mouth. There’s no reason to tell Kate all of that. No reason at all. They’re on a mission here, this is about getting Kate out of this place before something horrible happens. This is not about her feelings, her own buried hopes and desires and her guilt and emptiness and silent despair.
“What are you saying? That you never wanted to capture us? That you didn’t enjoy it when Tom was beating the living daylights out of Sawyer? That you were forced to flaunt your superiority at us while we were chopping those bleeding stones?”
And there it is, the attack she was waiting for, preparing herself for and finds herself still strangely unable to counter.
“I’m just saying that maybe I’m not here for the reasons you think I am.”
“So what? Aliens abducted you and put you here and took off in their shiny green little spaceship, leaving poor Juliet all alone to wander through the jungle until Ben found you and took you in and made you his own personal ice queen?”
She knows that Kate’s venting her frustrations about Jack’s betrayal right now too, that she’s just lashing out, saying whatever comes to her mind and probably going to regret this conversation later on. It doesn’t take the sting out of her words however, and Juliet can’t help but to shrink back in response.
And then comes the anger. Just who does Kate think she is? Frustrated, okay. Snapping at her, fine. But mocking her when she’s practically wearing her heart on her sleeve? Not okay. Not okay at all. Part of her wishes she had just kept her mouth shut in the first place. But what’s done is done and now that she started going down that road she somehow has to make sure Kate gets what she is saying. That things weren’t like that. She needs Kate to understand just how little of what she thinks about her is true. It shouldn’t be that important to her what Kate thinks. But it is and somehow the idea that Kate thinks she enjoyed any part of these last three years nearly makes her choke.
“No, Kate. It wasn’t like that. Nothing like that. And you know it.”
“Oh, do I? Because it damn well looked like it from where I was standing!”
“Well, maybe you didn’t look hard enough.”
“I didn’t? Come on then, tell me Juliet, what was it that I missed? What would I have seen?”
And that’s the million dollar question. Somehow, Juliet didn’t think she’d ever have to actually spell it out like that. Kate looks at her expectantly, defiantly and Juliet knows she’ll only have this one chance to explain things to Kate. To get Kate to trust her. And for a second, Juliet is scared. What if she tells her everything and Kate still decides it’s not enough? What if she says it’s been Juliet’s own fault all along? That she still had choices and if she really thinks she can win Kate over with a story like that she better develop some connection to reality soon.
She doesn’t know what it is that Kate sees in her expression then, but something in her face changes. Her eyes seem to soften in the dim light and Juliet imagines she can see some of the tension in her posture fade.
“Tell me, Juliet.” Kate prompts and her voice is gentle and it takes Juliet by surprise. She feels almost physically pulled to Kate and it’s nearly impossible to resist the sudden urge to just go with the feeling and spill everything to Kate. Trusting that warm voice and cautious concern in her eyes. But she’s learned all too well what can happen if you just go with your feelings and she tries to steel herself against Kate and the way she makes her feel.
“There’s not much to tell. I was stupid, I trusted the wrong people and I ended up here with Ben refusing to let me leave. There was nothing I wanted more than to go back, but he told me I was his and I wouldn’t go until he said so. And then he started promising me I could leave if only I did a little something for him. And I did it. And he still didn’t let me go, because there was this other something I still had to do. And another. And another. And if you say that’s no excuse for what we did to you, what I did to you, Kate, then you’re right. But please remember that in a way, I’m a prisoner here too. And that all I ever wanted was to go back home.”
There, she said it. And Kate doesn’t look disgusted. Or angry. Yet. At the moment she just looks at Juliet like she’s still trying to make sense of everything the other woman told her. And Juliet wants to keep this moment in mind like that. She doesn’t want to wait for Kate’s expression to change from intense focus to angry condemnation. Better break things off now with the illusion still in tact.
“Come on.” She says, her voice harsher than she intended it to be “let’s get you to where you’re supposed to be before someone gets suspicious.”
As Juliet moves to open to door of the store room, trying her best not to think about the possible consequences of her revelation, something suddenly holds her back and she looks down to find Kate’s hand on her wrist and then up to find her eyes searching Juliet’s face.
“I’m sorry.” Is what she hears.
“Kate!”
“Kate!”
Somehow the sounds don’t fit to the picture in her mind. Sure, she was half-expecting someone to notice their little disappearing act, to notice that Kate wasn’t were she, Juliet, was supposed to have taken her. This is what she’s been trying to prevent and prepare herself for at the same time: this is detection. But then she realizes something’s off. Why are they yelling Kate’s name? It’s not like they’d seriously expect her to just jump out at the sound of them calling her if they thought she was trying to get away. And besides, the pitch’s all wrong. That’s not the angry sound of someone calling for their prisoner. It’s the concerned voice of someone calling out for their friend. It’s Sawyer’s concerned voice and he wasn’t even near that particular store room.
“Kate!”
And Sun wasn’t at the camp at all.
She opens her eyes and takes in the familiar surroundings of Jack’s tent. The makeshift table and the bed and the cupboard. And while it takes her a second to process the sudden jump in time, the sinking feeling immediately lodges in the pit of her stomach. Kate’s gone. She’s not in the tent anymore and somehow Juliet doesn’t even need the worried shouts from outside to realize that Kate’s gone further than just back to the campfire. She replays Kate’s avoiding eyes, her uneasy stance, that confused, troubled look on her face from earlier. Yes, Kate’s gone. Gone to run as far away as she physically can get.
And she left her behind.
She doesn’t have a hard time breathing, her heart doesn’t stop. But still she feels something irrevocably change. She doesn’t know what it is, doesn’t even want to, but when she imagines her insides now, it’s all volcanic stone, black, burned stone, with the tiniest layer of ice glimmering on top.
She gets up, not really knowing why, just somehow pulled by those concerned, caring voices. They’re not calling her name, they’re calling hers, but it doesn’t matter. There’s not much left that matters, if anything at all, anyway. She finds herself still bound, but the ropes are so loose, it doesn’t take much effort to shed them. The voices are moving further away, she can’t make out who’s the one calling anymore. But she still hears her name.
Sawyer and Sayid are gone when she steps outside and so is everyone else. The camp’s dark, there are a few fires lit, but also a few places with the scattered, slightly blackened wood of a fire kicked out, with only a few embers left. She would probably wonder about that, if she could somehow find it in herself to care. It’s cold however and she shivers in her top. Without thinking about it, she moves to the next tent to find something warm to put on and she can actually hear the sand shifting between her feet as she walks. For a second, the sound and the feeling of sand under her shoes captivates her. It sparks a memory of herself as a young woman running along the beach, trying to catch a Frisbee someone else had thrown her. A woman with hair a few shades darker than her own and an easy laugh on her lips. Rachel. The memory’s gone as soon as it came and she finds herself fumbling around for a long-sleeved something in the dark of the tent. In the end, her hands touch something soft that feels large enough to be a blanket and she grabs it and heads outside again.
Her eyes wander around the deserted camp site and finally settle on the glowing embers on the ground. She ignores the bigger fires and moves towards them, somehow feeling a strange compassion for those embers, the way they keep glimmering against the cold, spending their last energy on such a useless activity as lighting up in different shades of red every now and then, hoping that somehow a gust of wind passing by will notice them and either set them ablaze again or just put them out of their misery.
She stands, contemplating, when suddenly there’s a loud wail breaking the silence that has decended over the camp. She vaguely wonders what that could have been, but then goes back to her musings. That’s until a second wail rings out and then a third one and a fourth one that somehow turns into a constant wailing she instinctively recognizes as that of an infant.
The sound beckons her closer and so she turns and follows the high-pitched cries, dropping the blanket and finding herself not giving a damn. It doesn’t take long for her to find the makeshift crib with the moving bundle inside. In the darkness she can’t make out the baby’s features, but his cries tear at her heart and she picks him up.
The sensation of the baby settling against her chest is something that catches her off guard. The warmth of that tiny body against hers, the instinctive trust with which he presses himself into her, it all makes her heart clench and then expand almost painfully. It’s been so long since she held a living baby in her arms that she’s forgotten what it feels like.
In the back of her head, the thought registers that this is Aron, Claire’s child, the child of the woman with long blonde hair that they’d been scheming to get their hands on. It doesn’t seem important now, however. Claire’s gone, along with everyone else and the baby in her arms has quieted down and is now staring at her through wide curious eyes. She wants to talk to him but the words just won’t form and so she simply stares back. And then the most amazing thing happens. He shifts a bit and then reaches out with his chubby little hands for her face, her locks, her own hands. And Juliet wants to cry, wants to wail like he did just moments earlier cause she can’t remember the last time somebody reached out to her like that, so open, so trusting, so completely without hesitation or fear. She feels the tears on her face before she can even think to keep them in and in the end, it doesn’t matter anyway. She smiles at the little human being in her arms and holds her hand to him and he grabs her little finger in his whole hand and pulls on it until she gives.
She stares in complete wonder as he starts squeaking with delight. That little boy, his eyes, his warmth, his hands and little, wriggling feet are all her world consists of now. She moves to retrieve the blanket and sits down beside the embers again while wrapping the both of them in it. There’s an odd sense of peace washing over her as she loses herself completely in their interactions, in his hands pulling on her curls, the sound of his gurgling, his squeals and his breathing.
She doesn’t know how long they sit there but sometime into the night, she doesn’t see Aron anymore when she looks at him. There’s the image of another little boy pushing to the front of her consciousness, also blonde, albeit a little taller. A boy named after his lost aunt. She looks down at the baby in her arms and it’s Julian’s face staring back at her in the soft darkness. It’s Julian’s hands reaching out for her, his laughter she can hear and finally his warm, moist breath against her collarbone as his breathing evens out. And she holds him, cradling him against her and the world’s alright. Soon Rachel will be home and then they’ll put him into his little bed upstairs and have a glass of wine on the couch before heading to bed themselves.
She doesn’t hear the voices approaching and neither does she hear the angry growl from the man she knows as Charlie. She doesn’t hear the panicked shriek from Claire or the dull thud as Jin and Sayid simultaneously drop their bags on the sand. She’s finally home in Miami and Julian’s asleep and they’re waiting for Rachel.
That is, until someone steps in front of her and wrenches the little sleeping baby from her arms. She tries to hold on to him, tries with all her might, but they’re just too strong and she’s losing her grip and she doesn’t want to hurt him and she’s pleading with them not to take him, not to take Julian away from her, but they don’t listen, they take him and she can’t see where they’re taking him, who they’re giving him to, but as soon as he’s gone they’re moving in on her and one of them snarls at her “No blondie, I don’t think so. No stealing other people’s kids tonight.” and there’s another man grinning at her in a way that makes her insides shake and then there’s a fist to her face, to her stomach, to her back. And Julian’s gone, gone, and she’s screaming his name on the top of her lungs, scrambling to get to her feet, trying to push through the cycle they form around her, but they won’t let her, they move in on her and everything’s a blur. Then, suddenly, it stops and the smaller man with dark, curly hair steps forward and takes her face in his hand, forcing her to meet his eyes.
“Stop screaming. That kid’s name is Aron and don’t you think for a second I’m buying your little act here. No-one and I mean no-one’s ever gonna let you near that kid again, you hear me?”
And it all comes flashing back to her in seconds. The compound, Ben, the fire, Jack, Kate, the tent, Kate, Julian, Rachel, Aron and Claire.
God, no!
She wrenches from Sayid’s grasp and past him. She can’t see where she’s going, it’s dark and even the dark’s blurry and she can’t breathe, but she stumbles forward. She has to get away, nothing but away from there, from them, from this.
Oh please, no!