Lost Fic: Half Awake in a Fake Empire
8/28/09 01:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ozmissageTitle: Half Awake in a Fake Empire
Pairing: Sawyer/Juliet (implied Sawyer/Kate)
Rating: PG-13
Words: 875
Disclaimer: Not mine. Title is from The National’s song, “Fake Empire”.
Summary: They always tell the truth when they’re in bed.
Warnings: Angst. A whole lot of angst.
From the very beginning the bed is their confessional. They murmur their truths in the dark, a steady stream of bad things, of secret things, of things they buried long ago. It is only at night when they are alone, wrapped around each in the darkness that they find a way to say the words that are too harsh for the bright light of day, words that don’t quite fit among the colorful houses and chipper Dharma folk that make up their day to day life.
The first time they have sex it’s rough and sloppy. It isn’t about love, it’s about forgetting (for him) and solace (for her). It’s after they disentangle themselves, awkwardly unwinding legs and slipping to their respective sides of the bed that they truly begin. He speaks first.
“She was never going to love me.”
His voice is small, softer than she’s ever heard it. There’s a lilt to his words that tells her he doesn’t quite believe what he just said. She doesn’t know how to respond. She’s not sure what he wants to hear; she doesn’t really know him at all yet. She compromises by turning over onto her side so that she is facing his back. She reaches across the space between them and traces the hard line of his spine and feels her stomach tighten when he shivers under her touch.
He doesn’t turn to look at her but he says, “It don’t matter much now, does it?”
She moves closer to him and slips an arm around his waist, carefully tucking her knees into the space behind his until there is nothing between them anymore.
“No it doesn’t,” she whispers against the base of his neck.
***
They go on like this for three years. Their histories unfold under the soft glow of moonlight. She tells him about Rachel and Julian, not quite meeting his eyes when she tells him how much she wants to hold the little boy. He tells her about a daughter he’s never met.
Sometimes the confessions are darker. These things they divulge hesitantly, always drenched in shame, but they are each of them sinners in their own way and they never judge the other. He tells her a story about a rainy night when he sat in his car staring at blood on his hands. She tells him how heavy the gun felt before she shot a man she counted as a friend.
And other times, when the nightmares come they don’t speak at all. They swallow each other’s explanations with a kiss, they calm shivers with steady hands, they act as anchors muttering only, “It’s just a dream, just a dream.”
On these nights there is no need for confessions. This is a burden they both understand.
***
The day the others come back, falling out of the sky like unwanted angels, Juliet looks forward to the night. She has been watching James all day as he runs about trying desperately to keep this new wind from tipping their always shaky house of cards. She listens as he reassures her that everything will be alright and she hopes that he knows she doesn’t believe him. She hopes he knows better than to believe himself.
She thinks that if they could only slip between the sheets, if they could only get a moment away from the rest of the world he would tell her the truth. She wants to hear him say, “I’m scared” or “When I saw her I felt something” because even though those things would hurt her at least they would be real.
The last time they make love it’s rough and sloppy. He’s trying to convince her he’s not thinking of someone else, she’s trying to make herself believe that it’s true. It’s only after he slips out of her, after he’s pulled her against his chest, after he wraps his arms around her a little too tightly, that they truly end. She speaks first, all the while silently willing him not to lie to her. Not here, not now.
“This was never going to last, was it?”
If he hears the pain in her voice, he doesn’t let on. He answers too quickly, his words coming with an air of having been rehearsed.
“It’s under control, Blondie. We’re going to get through this just fine.”
She winces. He misunderstood, or worse he’s pretending that he did. She tries again.
“It was strange seeing them again.”
He’s silent this time and she holds her breath, bracing herself for the truth, but his answer is vague, guarded and he doesn’t know it but her heart is breaking under his fingers draped so casually across her breast.
“A little bit. It was nice seeing Hurley again though.”
She rolls away from his touch, turning over onto her stomach. She tries not to flinch when he presses a kiss between her shoulder blades. She can see that he’s going to pretend that this is just another night; he’s going to pretend that he doesn’t see what’s coming.
“Night, Blondie,” he whispers as he moves away from her to his own side of their bed.
She doesn’t have to look to see how wide the space between them has become.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 8/29/09 01:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 8/29/09 11:45 am (UTC)*whispers* Your S/J fic should be up by Monday and spoiler alert---it's fluffier than a whole bag cotton candy. ;)
no subject
Date: 8/29/09 04:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 8/29/09 02:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 8/29/09 11:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 8/29/09 05:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 8/29/09 11:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 8/30/09 04:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 8/31/09 12:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 8/30/09 06:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 8/31/09 12:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 9/1/09 01:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 9/1/09 02:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 9/4/09 02:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 3/16/10 12:06 am (UTC)This line... gah. Gorgeous. Poor Juliet. :(
Loved this.
no subject
Date: 3/16/10 04:35 am (UTC)