Lost Fic: The Awakening (Juliet, Rachel)

[ozmissage]

This one got away from me a little bit. I doubt the others will be quite so long. Also please note this sucker was written under the influence of a fever and copious amounts of cold medication so my apologies if it makes no sense. I promise it felt logical at the time. More Halloween ficlets to come later this weekend, I’m going to try to group the rest in batches so I don’t spam you guys with fic all week. :)

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Title: The Awakening
Characters: Juliet, Rachel
Rating: PG
Words: 1,578
Spoilers/Warnings: Through season five. Attempts at creepiness.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Title stolen shamelessly from Kate Chopin.
Summary: They keep telling themselves it’s only a game.
A/N: This was written formissy_useless who asked for Juliet, Rachel and the witching hour. And I promise it’s Juliet/Sawyer free. ;)

Juliet carefully carries Julian to his room. His tiny little arms are wrapped tightly around her neck and his black vampire cape is still draped over his shoulders. He barely stirs as she tucks him in and she can’t help but grin when she kisses his cheek and tastes chocolate. It’s clear that a certain little boy had a nice Halloween.

“Night, sweetheart,” she whispers before quietly shutting his door.

She yawns as she makes her way back to the living room. It’s past midnight and after an afternoon of knocking on doors and chasing little witches and vampires around the apartment building she’s exhausted, but the moment she steps into the living room it becomes apparent she’s going to have to wait a little while longer before she can get to sleep.

Rachel is sitting on the floor surrounded by candles with a board game in one hand and a Milky Way in the other.

“If you think challenging me to a game of Scrabble when I’m sleep deprived is going to increase your chances of winning, you’re going to be very disappointed,” Juliet says.

Rachel flashes her a mischievous grin and Juliet eyes the board game warily.

“We’re not playing Scrabble, Jules.”

“Then what are we going to play?”

“It’s the witching hour on Halloween night, we’re going to call up the dead,” Rachel whispers dramatically.

Juliet groans as she settles herself on the floor next to her sister. She knew she should have monitored her sister’s board game addiction better. She picks up the board before arching an eyebrow at Rachel.

“A Ouija board? How old are we again?”

Rachel shakes her head sadly at her sister; Juliet knows this look, it’s the stop being such a killjoy stare Rachel perfected around the time she started sneaking boys in her window while their mother was sleeping.

“Come on, sis. It’ll be fun.”

“Who exactly are we going to call up? Uncle Phil? Because I doubt his knock-knock jokes are any funnier now that he’s dead.”

Rachel snorts as she sets the board between them on the carpet. She carefully places the plastic planchette on the center of the board right below the elaborately drawn alphabet. Juliet was pretty sure the last time she had seen a Ouija board she was eleven and had been forced to attend a sleepover at Betsy Noble’s house. It still looked the same though, alphabet in the middle, yes and no printed in the left and right-hand corners respectively with the numbers one through zero printed under the letters; then to add an extra level of creepiness to the proceedings the fellows over at Milton-Bradley had printed “Good-Bye” at the bottom of the board, most likely to illicit screams from little girls attempting to communicate with Beelzebub.

“Relax, we won’t call up Uncle Phil. We’ll consult the spirits on more important matters---like our love lives.”

“I’m buying you a magic eight-ball for Christmas,” Juliet says dryly.

“Good to know,” Rachel replies before bringing her fingertips to rest on the planchette. Juliet reluctantly follows suit.

“I’ll start,” says Rachel. “Will I ever find a nice guy with a Porsche, who also happens to be into single moms?”

Both women can’t help but giggle when the planchette moves quickly to the word “No”. Rachel tries to look indignant, but it’s hard to keep a straight face when your little sister is shaking with laughter.

“Maybe there’s something to this game after all,” Juliet says. Rachel slaps her arm playfully before turning her attention back to the board.

“Will my little sister die alone?”

“Hey!” Juliet protests.

“You started it,” Rachel replies.

Juliet watches as the planchette begins to move rapidly across the board. She was expecting a simple yes or no answer but instead the pointer slips from one letter to the next, spelling out a longer message.

S-H-E A-L-R-E-A-D-Y D-I-D

Juliet shoots Rachel a skeptic look.

“Very funny, Rach.”

Rachel’s eyes are trained on the board and Juliet can’t help but note that she looks a little shaken.

“I didn’t do that. I swear.”

Juliet laughs. “Sure you didn’t. Your magic board must have a philosophical side then.”

“Jules, I didn’t move it.”

“Whatever you say, anyway it’s my turn to ask a question.”

Rachel looks hesitant and Juliet sighs.

“Fingers on the thing.”

“Planchette,” Rachel corrects.

“Whatever.”

Rachel still looks wary. Juliet never imagined her sister would take this sort of thing so seriously, she figures it must be a result of the cancer. She knows how scared her sister was during that time, but that’s no reason to put so much stock in a toy you can pick up at any major chain store in the country.

“Come on Rachel, it’s just a game. Here I’ll prove it.”

Juliet places her fingertips back on the planchette and asks, “How am I dead if I’m asking you questions?”

For a moment nothing happens and Juliet is about to look smugly at her sister when she feels the little plastic pointer quiver before once again darting around the board.

A-S-K J-A-C-K

Rachel frowns at the board and shoots Juliet a quizzical look.

“Who’s Jack?”

Juliet shrugs, but she can’t stop the shiver creeping down her spine. She doesn’t know any Jacks, none well anyway, but there’s something so familiar about the name, as if she should she know it, as if it should call a face to her mind. She steadies herself and forces a smile for her sister.

“I have no idea. My old pharmacist was named Jack, I think. Maybe he’s trying to kill me.”

“I sense that you’re not taking this very seriously,” Rachel says.

“Rach, I love you, but the Ouija board just told me I was dead, which doesn’t appear to be terribly accurate since I’m still breathing.”

Rachel laughs shakily. “I guess you’re right. For curiosity’s sake let’s find out how you supposedly died.”

Juliet smiles. “I hope it wasn’t something boring.”

Rachel clears her throat before asking, “How did she die?”

The planchette moves again, but the message is short this time.

W-E-L-L

“What does that mean?” Rachel asks.

“It means we need a better spirit guide. Are you ready to put this thing up now?”

Rachel shakes her head. “One more. Where is Jack?”

Juliet holds her breathe as the pointer stirs.

I-S-L-A-N-D

She can’t stop herself from gasping. Rachel looks up at her sister, surprised.

“Jules, what is it?”

“I…I don’t know. It’s nothing.”

It’s something. Island. It’s so vague, there are lots of islands and yet she feels like she knows exactly which one the board means. She can see it, green and lush, beautiful and there’s a man there, a small man who shakes her hand and brings her flowers. She hates him---a loathing that comes from somewhere deep inside of her. And there’s more. There are guns and she can almost feel her finger pressing the trigger, and Latin and blood, so much blood…

And another man. There are red stars on his arm and the number five. He’s stubborn, so stubborn.

Jack. She feels the phantom press of glass against her throat and remembers the hot hiss of metal heating up, and later cool fingers on the small of her back.

Jack. He came back---but from where?

She’s shaking and she can hear Rachel calling to her, but her voice sounds far away. She doesn’t understand any of this. She’s never been to any island, it’s just her imagination, it must be…

“There was a bomb.”

She doesn’t know where the words are coming from.

“I detonated a bomb.”

“Juliet you’re scaring me.”

Juliet is vaguely aware of Rachel’s fingernails digging into her arm. She feels numb. None of this can be true. It doesn’t make sense, there’s no logic to it. She’s never even held a gun.

“We’re putting this up. You were right, Jules. It’s just a game. You’re tired; I should have never made you…” Rachel trails off and Juliet turns when she hears her sister gasp.

The planchette is moving on it’s on. Rachel backs away from the board, but Juliet moves toward it. Maybe she’s going mad or maybe she’s dreaming. But why does it feel so much like waking up?

Y-O-U H-A-V-E T-O G-O B-A-C-K

Juliet reaches towards the board hesitantly, as if it might snap at her. But it’s still again. She closes it in one swift movement and looks up at Rachel who is watching her carefully as if she’s about to shatter and break.

“I don’t want to play anymore,” Juliet says quietly.

“Me either,” Rachel replies.

Together they shove the board back into the box and carry it out into the hallway where they drop it down the trash chute. They don’t talk about it anymore, instead they say goodnight and head to their respective rooms.

Juliet feels silly once she’s curled up in her bed. She can hear Julian snoring gently from the room next door. She’s safe. It must have been a trick. Magnets or something. Or maybe she was just tired. She’s a doctor, she knows how powerful the mind can be and it is Halloween after all---it’s easy to get carried away.

But that night she dreams of a sub and a little yellow house and a monster---a black, sprawling thing and when she wakes up with a start she can’t shake the feeling that something is calling her home.