Pronouns

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Title:  Pronouns
Rating: PG- one bad word
Characters/ Pairing: Sayid, Juliet, Sawyer, Sayid/ Juliet
Summary: Maybe taking themselves out of it with bring the other ones back...
Notes: Season Four speculation. Spoilers and all that fun stuff.I would really appreciate constructive criticism or comments. Thanks so much!
Also posted for Challenge 65: Lost fic challenge.

 Sayid will watch them get into the plane. With him. And her. Whoever thought they would be the ones left?

The camp is quiet; the six left in plain sight; there was no disguising the fact, no hiding from the watchers. In a way, it should hurt less. It doesn’t.

 He still watches for boats. For planes and helicopters. Sometimes, she joins him and the two stare in silence. If she would, she could say something teasingly tender about his optimism, which they both know is foolishness. If she would, she could say something cruel. She decides the safest route is neither.

 They- the three- become the leaders. The con man, the torturer, and the other. There’s a joke about a bar in there somewhere. One thinks they will return. The other doubts it. The other says the one, but watches the skies and the seas when no one is looking.

 And they continue on with routine. Eat, sleep, watch. Eat, sleep, watch. Until one day, the watching stops.

 They- the six of them- are not coming back. Who would?

 And you would think that, following this realization, the apocalypse would begin shortly after. People would cry, some would die- most certainly the new leaders; Sayid, Juliet, and Sawyer.

 But the world ends slowly, pieces crumple and fall apart. People walk off and don’t come back. Locke goes first and no one is surprised. Then others leave. Sayid is worried but optimistic.

 Until the day he leaves the beach forever. Juliet is sitting by him, her head buried in her arms until he says, “Where can we go?”. She knows.

 It feels like betrayal, like cowardice. They go to the Other’s old community (Ben is gone, there is nothing to fear, no danger left in those without a leader). Sawyer finds a small house on the very outside; right by the electric fence. There is a library and a wine casket and he keeps to himself. Every now and then, Sayid will come over and the men will sit, drink, and talk. Talk about the books, talk about the wine, and sometimes make plans to leave. But eventually one will say something and the other will leave.

 Sayid dreams about a beautiful woman in a dark basement. About a young girl with blonde hair and innocence still in tact. Every once and a while, he sees one of them. Or Jack. Or Kate. He ignores it.

 He has begun to fix things around where he lives now. Fixing and baking. Cleaning, repairing. He should be ashamed. He’s too tired to care.

 She finds him one night. He is on his porch looking up into the sky.

 “It’s too late for anyone to fly out,” she says.
“I was looking at the stars,” he replies.
"Liar,” she says, not completely cruelly.
“Would you like to have a drink?” he asks.

 Of course she would. And so they go inside the home he is staying inside. And she’ll stay there, for a time. Because there is something about Sayid that impresses her, something that she respects, and something- a small part of him- that reminds her of herself. Or maybe, as she’s fond of calling herself, she’s just the island slut. Or maybe she’s just as stupidly romantic and foolish as he is.

 Whatever the reason, they build a relationship. And the last remaining survivors of Oceanic 815 form a life somehow; they make their own community inside of a larger one, and- like being on this island, like being on the beach- they all manage to convince themselves that this is not giving up; this is not failure; they do not hate this life, this way of living. They are simply waiting- waiting…

 Sayid has a secret. It’s in the top drawer of one of the cupboards in the room where he spends most of his time. It’s silent most of the time, but every time there is a slight noise- a whisper, a cough, lovers speaking to one another, sure that no one is listening…but Sayid is. And he’s waiting…hoping…praying to God, to Allah, to whatever name given to him in any part of the world…and waiting.

 And, one day, the walkie will squeak and dust will seem to come out of the speakers. People will return- from boats, from planes, from the jungle where they lost themselves again- people will return. And on the walkie, a familiar and forgotten voice will sound out and Juliet instantly will regret tormenting Sayid for his optimism…

 They have returned.