Bed of Roses and Thorns (100moods - Prompt #55: Jealous)
Title: Bed of Roses and Thorns
Fandom: LOST
Characters: James "Sawyer" Ford x Juliet Burke
Prompt: #55 (Jealous)
Word Count: 2001
Rating: G
Warning(s): None.
Summary: He's not the kind of man who gets jealous so easily.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.
A/N: This is a remix of scandaloussteph's fic Through His Eyes.
Bed of Roses and Thorns
He's not the kind of man who gets jealous so easily. He's the kind of man who simply watches other men swoon over his woman, and he's the kind of man who will wrap his arms around her, pull her close, smirk and proudly say that she's his. And he's the kind of man who doesn't need her constant reassurance, because the joy that radiates from her smile is enough to let him know that there's no reason to worry.
But she's changing, he can see that. And so is he. So is he.
*
She hasn't been home much lately, he's noticed.
Wide awake, he's in bed, watching the ceiling fan above spin and spin when the cycle is interrupted by sound of the door opening quietly. And he hears the keys jingle as she places them on the counter, and he hears the sigh that tells him that she's had a long day, and she's relieved it's over, relieved that she has some time to rest before it starts all over again tomorrow.
She immediately climbs in the bed next to him. And on most days where she's late coming home, he's all right with that, thinking that she's just too tired to change or go anywhere else first--but this is becoming a daily habit, and he can't help but think that she's trying to trick him into thinking she still cares, so he'll take care of her like he always has, like he says he always will.
"Where ya been, Blondie?" he asks, trying to keep his voice calm.
"At the hospital, as always," she replies. He notes how quick she was, how prepared her answer seemed to be.
"I see."
"Yeah. I don't have to be, but this one family's having a tough time right now. A divorced couple is expecting another child. The mother's devastated and the father's turning to alcohol, and their teenager is forced to be in the middle of it all. And I just... feel the need to help them."
He swears his heart stops as he says breathlessly, "Is that so?"
"Yeah. I know you understand. Don't worry, though. As soon as they're back on their feet, I'll be able to spend more time at home with you and Clementine again."
He doesn't say anything.
*
They take turns picking up Clementine at school. It's Juliet's turn today and she still comes home long after she's supposed to. Clementine's in her arms, sleeping soundly, but this fact doesn't cause his fury to cease, because he had been calling and calling and had not gotten an answer, and it was way past her bedtime, and he needed some kind of explanation as to why Juliet would act this way in front of their daughter.
"Where the hell have you been with--"
"Will you take her and put her to bed? She's getting so heavy," Juliet interrupts tiredly, holding out her arms for him to take the child. He takes her, not taking his eyes off of the woman who (he thinks) is refusing to make direct eye contact with him. He takes his daughter to her room, cursing under his breath. When he places the child on her bed, he sees that she's awake, and he apologizes for the language, says that it's a bad habit that he needs to break, that's all.
"It's okay, Daddy," she says, "but don't be mad. We were having fun."
"Having fun, huh?" he says, smiles slightly, unable to decide if he should question further or not. He decides that it's necessary to ask and eagerly and nervously waits for an answer.
"Yeah. Mommy picked me up from school and took me to a restaurant and there were two guys there. We ate with them. One of them was named David. He was nice. He told me what the best food there was, because he said he didn't want me to eat anything bad there! And Mommy was talking to this guy named Jack. He looked kind of sad, but on the way home Mommy said that she had never seen him look happier."
Ignoring the part about David, he asks, "Yeah? What did Mommy and this guy named Jack talk about?"
Clementine pauses, shifts around uncomfortably for a few moments. "I don't really know. I wasn't paying attention, but they were laughing and smiling a lot. But Jack still looked so sad. And before we left they hugged and Mommy said that she would help him be happy again."
He looks down to the floor, nods his head sadly over and over until he realizes he should go, before Clementine starts to realize that something's not right with what she had told him. He doesn't regret asking, but he does regret ever trusting Juliet, and he doesn't want his daughter to know.
He curses again, this time to himself, and he storms out of the room without apologizing this time.
*
He follows her, once. If she knew, she'd call it an invasion of privacy, but she doesn't know, and so he's calling it the path that destroys lies.
He takes Clementine with him to make sure that this is the family that he should be suspicious of. And he sees Juliet follow the same damn run-down car for twenty minutes. He sees her get out of the car and follow two men who got out of the car that she was following. One's got a hideous beard and the little one looks like a natural rebel. He doesn't look like a kid Juliet would want to raise, he thinks bitterly. And they're going into what looks like an apartment. Definitely not worthy of her. Not enough money, not enough space. Just--not enough for her.
"Where are we, exactly?"
He asks no one in particular, but Clementine answers him anyway: "Home."
"This is not home, Clementine," he says harshly. Here, he's angry at how he can't seem to focus on the situation at hand, angry at how he's asking pointless questions that won't tell him whether or not he should be worried about the future.
"I was here with Mommy before. This is where Jack and David live, but David, he told me it could be our home, too. We are welcome anytime, he said," Clementine explains, and here, he's angry the world for putting such ridiculous ideas into his wife and daughter's heads.
And this is the only proof he needs to confirm his suspicions. Or it's admitting that he doesn't want to see anything else that might crush his heart even more. Either way, he tells Clementine that she shouldn't speak of this visit at all, and he chooses to go home, to the real home, and he waits until Juliet returns from work or wherever she'll say she's been for the last twenty-four hours.
*
"We need to talk about this family you've been tryin' to help lately," he finally says that night in a broken voice. She's just walked through the door, and he's in the living room, watching television, a bottle of beer in his hand. Clementine, she's sleeping on the couch, snoring quietly. He had let her sleep there. And with all of this, he is hoping that he won't have to explain every little detail to her during the inevitable conversation. It was painful for him just to start it.
"What about the family, James?" she asks, placing her keys on the coffee table near him. It's all so familiar. It makes him sick.
"I don't know if you remember what happened the last time you tried to help a family like that," he began, looking back and forth between the bottle and his daughter and her confused expression.
"A family like... what?"
"Troubled father not knowin' what to do about their troubled child," he replies simply. He turned off the television in order to distract himself, but regretted it as nothing but tension from a few moments of silence lingered in the room afterward.
"I don't understand, James. Every family is different, and--"
"Of course every family is different! But the ending can be the same. Don't you understand? You helped me and Clementine here get on with our lives and we ended up married! And now you're helpin' this other man with his son and a new kid and you've been gone so much I'm startin' to think there's somethin' more." He pauses, seeing his daughter move slightly and realizing his mistake in speaking too loudly. "I know exactly what you mean by feeling the need to help them, but your feelings, I think, are not the ones you should be feelin'."
Juliet stares at him blankly. Her mouth is open wide, as if she wants to say something, anything, but she can't speak the words though they're flying through her mind at a hundred miles an hour. A few moments later she moves toward the couch and sits down next to him, and doesn't seem surprised when she reaches for his hand and he pulls away.
"I think there's been a big misunderstanding here, James," she says simply.
"Obviously. And we better get to the bottom of it 'cause I ain't playin' no more games. I've seen and heard enough."
"Well," she says, her voice cracking and her eyes trying to hold back tears, "I don't know what you've seen and I don't know what you've heard, but you should forget about all of it. It's not what you think, James."
"And why the hell would I do that, Blondie? Haven't I told you that I'm done livin' with lies? And aren't you the one who encouraged me to stop livin' with lies?"
"Yes, James, and we are quite happy, aren't we? Can you honestly deny that? Yes, I've been spending a lot of time with that family. And yes, they are a lot like us. I'm trying to save them because I know they can be saved. I know they can be happy, just like us. Why shouldn't I spread the happiness in the world if I can? I want others to experience something so pure and so full of joy like us. I am not going to leave you or Clementine for them. What--"
At this point she stops speaking, puts her hand to her mouth and tries to hold back her tears, the tears that have built up over the last few days because of exhaustion and confusion and desperation due to both of the families weighing on her. She was willing to deal with it then, knowing it was just a small price to pay for everyone's inevitable happiness, but now she can't help it, thinking that her efforts were all for nothing.
Her sobs only cease when he sighs and puts his arm around her waist and pulls her close with the same force that he does when he's claiming that she's his. He allows her to rest her head on his chest and whispers, "Look, Blondie, I'm sorry I didn't look at it that way. I just got a little jealous is all. I guess I'm not used to having other people takin' time away from us."
"You should be sorry," she says, using the back of her hand to wipe her eyes. "I didn't think I would have to explain it to you. I thought you would want me to do the same, too."
"And I do. I do. It's just--I didn't look at it that way. I think you can save everyone. Anyone. I think you even savin' me is proof enough of that. I love you, all right? I do, and I'm sorry."
She lifts her head and looks at him with a barely visible but still existent smile. She doesn't say anything more, but she leans forward and kisses him, and he knows that he's forgiven and that the same happiness exists throughout the world because of his woman and her endless love that knows no bounds.
Fandom: LOST
Characters: James "Sawyer" Ford x Juliet Burke
Prompt: #55 (Jealous)
Word Count: 2001
Rating: G
Warning(s): None.
Summary: He's not the kind of man who gets jealous so easily.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters.
A/N: This is a remix of scandaloussteph's fic Through His Eyes.
Bed of Roses and Thorns
He's not the kind of man who gets jealous so easily. He's the kind of man who simply watches other men swoon over his woman, and he's the kind of man who will wrap his arms around her, pull her close, smirk and proudly say that she's his. And he's the kind of man who doesn't need her constant reassurance, because the joy that radiates from her smile is enough to let him know that there's no reason to worry.
But she's changing, he can see that. And so is he. So is he.
*
She hasn't been home much lately, he's noticed.
Wide awake, he's in bed, watching the ceiling fan above spin and spin when the cycle is interrupted by sound of the door opening quietly. And he hears the keys jingle as she places them on the counter, and he hears the sigh that tells him that she's had a long day, and she's relieved it's over, relieved that she has some time to rest before it starts all over again tomorrow.
She immediately climbs in the bed next to him. And on most days where she's late coming home, he's all right with that, thinking that she's just too tired to change or go anywhere else first--but this is becoming a daily habit, and he can't help but think that she's trying to trick him into thinking she still cares, so he'll take care of her like he always has, like he says he always will.
"Where ya been, Blondie?" he asks, trying to keep his voice calm.
"At the hospital, as always," she replies. He notes how quick she was, how prepared her answer seemed to be.
"I see."
"Yeah. I don't have to be, but this one family's having a tough time right now. A divorced couple is expecting another child. The mother's devastated and the father's turning to alcohol, and their teenager is forced to be in the middle of it all. And I just... feel the need to help them."
He swears his heart stops as he says breathlessly, "Is that so?"
"Yeah. I know you understand. Don't worry, though. As soon as they're back on their feet, I'll be able to spend more time at home with you and Clementine again."
He doesn't say anything.
*
They take turns picking up Clementine at school. It's Juliet's turn today and she still comes home long after she's supposed to. Clementine's in her arms, sleeping soundly, but this fact doesn't cause his fury to cease, because he had been calling and calling and had not gotten an answer, and it was way past her bedtime, and he needed some kind of explanation as to why Juliet would act this way in front of their daughter.
"Where the hell have you been with--"
"Will you take her and put her to bed? She's getting so heavy," Juliet interrupts tiredly, holding out her arms for him to take the child. He takes her, not taking his eyes off of the woman who (he thinks) is refusing to make direct eye contact with him. He takes his daughter to her room, cursing under his breath. When he places the child on her bed, he sees that she's awake, and he apologizes for the language, says that it's a bad habit that he needs to break, that's all.
"It's okay, Daddy," she says, "but don't be mad. We were having fun."
"Having fun, huh?" he says, smiles slightly, unable to decide if he should question further or not. He decides that it's necessary to ask and eagerly and nervously waits for an answer.
"Yeah. Mommy picked me up from school and took me to a restaurant and there were two guys there. We ate with them. One of them was named David. He was nice. He told me what the best food there was, because he said he didn't want me to eat anything bad there! And Mommy was talking to this guy named Jack. He looked kind of sad, but on the way home Mommy said that she had never seen him look happier."
Ignoring the part about David, he asks, "Yeah? What did Mommy and this guy named Jack talk about?"
Clementine pauses, shifts around uncomfortably for a few moments. "I don't really know. I wasn't paying attention, but they were laughing and smiling a lot. But Jack still looked so sad. And before we left they hugged and Mommy said that she would help him be happy again."
He looks down to the floor, nods his head sadly over and over until he realizes he should go, before Clementine starts to realize that something's not right with what she had told him. He doesn't regret asking, but he does regret ever trusting Juliet, and he doesn't want his daughter to know.
He curses again, this time to himself, and he storms out of the room without apologizing this time.
*
He follows her, once. If she knew, she'd call it an invasion of privacy, but she doesn't know, and so he's calling it the path that destroys lies.
He takes Clementine with him to make sure that this is the family that he should be suspicious of. And he sees Juliet follow the same damn run-down car for twenty minutes. He sees her get out of the car and follow two men who got out of the car that she was following. One's got a hideous beard and the little one looks like a natural rebel. He doesn't look like a kid Juliet would want to raise, he thinks bitterly. And they're going into what looks like an apartment. Definitely not worthy of her. Not enough money, not enough space. Just--not enough for her.
"Where are we, exactly?"
He asks no one in particular, but Clementine answers him anyway: "Home."
"This is not home, Clementine," he says harshly. Here, he's angry at how he can't seem to focus on the situation at hand, angry at how he's asking pointless questions that won't tell him whether or not he should be worried about the future.
"I was here with Mommy before. This is where Jack and David live, but David, he told me it could be our home, too. We are welcome anytime, he said," Clementine explains, and here, he's angry the world for putting such ridiculous ideas into his wife and daughter's heads.
And this is the only proof he needs to confirm his suspicions. Or it's admitting that he doesn't want to see anything else that might crush his heart even more. Either way, he tells Clementine that she shouldn't speak of this visit at all, and he chooses to go home, to the real home, and he waits until Juliet returns from work or wherever she'll say she's been for the last twenty-four hours.
*
"We need to talk about this family you've been tryin' to help lately," he finally says that night in a broken voice. She's just walked through the door, and he's in the living room, watching television, a bottle of beer in his hand. Clementine, she's sleeping on the couch, snoring quietly. He had let her sleep there. And with all of this, he is hoping that he won't have to explain every little detail to her during the inevitable conversation. It was painful for him just to start it.
"What about the family, James?" she asks, placing her keys on the coffee table near him. It's all so familiar. It makes him sick.
"I don't know if you remember what happened the last time you tried to help a family like that," he began, looking back and forth between the bottle and his daughter and her confused expression.
"A family like... what?"
"Troubled father not knowin' what to do about their troubled child," he replies simply. He turned off the television in order to distract himself, but regretted it as nothing but tension from a few moments of silence lingered in the room afterward.
"I don't understand, James. Every family is different, and--"
"Of course every family is different! But the ending can be the same. Don't you understand? You helped me and Clementine here get on with our lives and we ended up married! And now you're helpin' this other man with his son and a new kid and you've been gone so much I'm startin' to think there's somethin' more." He pauses, seeing his daughter move slightly and realizing his mistake in speaking too loudly. "I know exactly what you mean by feeling the need to help them, but your feelings, I think, are not the ones you should be feelin'."
Juliet stares at him blankly. Her mouth is open wide, as if she wants to say something, anything, but she can't speak the words though they're flying through her mind at a hundred miles an hour. A few moments later she moves toward the couch and sits down next to him, and doesn't seem surprised when she reaches for his hand and he pulls away.
"I think there's been a big misunderstanding here, James," she says simply.
"Obviously. And we better get to the bottom of it 'cause I ain't playin' no more games. I've seen and heard enough."
"Well," she says, her voice cracking and her eyes trying to hold back tears, "I don't know what you've seen and I don't know what you've heard, but you should forget about all of it. It's not what you think, James."
"And why the hell would I do that, Blondie? Haven't I told you that I'm done livin' with lies? And aren't you the one who encouraged me to stop livin' with lies?"
"Yes, James, and we are quite happy, aren't we? Can you honestly deny that? Yes, I've been spending a lot of time with that family. And yes, they are a lot like us. I'm trying to save them because I know they can be saved. I know they can be happy, just like us. Why shouldn't I spread the happiness in the world if I can? I want others to experience something so pure and so full of joy like us. I am not going to leave you or Clementine for them. What--"
At this point she stops speaking, puts her hand to her mouth and tries to hold back her tears, the tears that have built up over the last few days because of exhaustion and confusion and desperation due to both of the families weighing on her. She was willing to deal with it then, knowing it was just a small price to pay for everyone's inevitable happiness, but now she can't help it, thinking that her efforts were all for nothing.
Her sobs only cease when he sighs and puts his arm around her waist and pulls her close with the same force that he does when he's claiming that she's his. He allows her to rest her head on his chest and whispers, "Look, Blondie, I'm sorry I didn't look at it that way. I just got a little jealous is all. I guess I'm not used to having other people takin' time away from us."
"You should be sorry," she says, using the back of her hand to wipe her eyes. "I didn't think I would have to explain it to you. I thought you would want me to do the same, too."
"And I do. I do. It's just--I didn't look at it that way. I think you can save everyone. Anyone. I think you even savin' me is proof enough of that. I love you, all right? I do, and I'm sorry."
She lifts her head and looks at him with a barely visible but still existent smile. She doesn't say anything more, but she leans forward and kisses him, and he knows that he's forgiven and that the same happiness exists throughout the world because of his woman and her endless love that knows no bounds.