Juliet has been awake as long as James has been gone. She knew this would happen; she knew that sooner or later, the good that she had would just slip through her fingers because it always does, every time she gets a piece of it. She's terrified for him, and as soon as she can talk Horace into it, she's out with a gun looking with the rest of them. In the valley, when she sees how flooded it is, her stomach drops and Jin has to hold onto her shoulders for a second while she bends over, hands on her knees, trying not to vomit.
Miles is the one who promises James can't be dead because he can't pick up on him, and it's what makes her keep going. When the sun sets she wants to stay, but as it is, she can barely speak anymore, her throat raw from screaming out for James over the pouring rain. She's awake, the lights on in their house because she can't stop pacing, Miles and Jin both sitting on the couch pretty much staring at her until she tells them to go get some sleep.
At three in the morning, she's sitting in his chair holding a now cold mug of tea, staring vacantly at the wall in front of her, trying to figure out how much she needs to save to get off of this fucking island that keeps taking from her. After James, she'd have nothing left to give. But when the door opens and he stumbles into the house, she drops the mug, not caring that it shatters and tea goes everywhere. And she doesn't care that he is literally covered head to toe in mud. She springs out of the chair and goes to him immediately.
"Oh, God, come here," she croaks out, her voice barely a hoarse whisper as she leads him to the bathroom, mud and water going everywhere, but she can hardly care. She needs to get him warm; he's been out in the monsoon for too long. She starts a bath and then, before she can do anything else, she wraps her arms tightly around him, mud and all, she doesn't care. She clings, and when she knows she can speak without crying, she whispers, though it's raspy and thin.
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Miles is the one who promises James can't be dead because he can't pick up on him, and it's what makes her keep going. When the sun sets she wants to stay, but as it is, she can barely speak anymore, her throat raw from screaming out for James over the pouring rain. She's awake, the lights on in their house because she can't stop pacing, Miles and Jin both sitting on the couch pretty much staring at her until she tells them to go get some sleep.
At three in the morning, she's sitting in his chair holding a now cold mug of tea, staring vacantly at the wall in front of her, trying to figure out how much she needs to save to get off of this fucking island that keeps taking from her. After James, she'd have nothing left to give. But when the door opens and he stumbles into the house, she drops the mug, not caring that it shatters and tea goes everywhere. And she doesn't care that he is literally covered head to toe in mud. She springs out of the chair and goes to him immediately.
"Oh, God, come here," she croaks out, her voice barely a hoarse whisper as she leads him to the bathroom, mud and water going everywhere, but she can hardly care. She needs to get him warm; he's been out in the monsoon for too long. She starts a bath and then, before she can do anything else, she wraps her arms tightly around him, mud and all, she doesn't care. She clings, and when she knows she can speak without crying, she whispers, though it's raspy and thin.
"You kept your promise."