A chill wind picks up around her as she looks out over the island, and she subconsciously folds her arms across her chest for warmth. The ocean is surprisingly calm today, sparkling gently in the sun. The sky still bears the sluggish grey of morning, though there are some holes in the clouds. The blue of day is breaking through.

A pillar of smoke rises into the sky from somewhere in the south. Juliet knows that it comes from the mid-section of Oceanic flight 815. The tail-section fell somewhere far behind her. If she turned around, she would see no smoke, as it crashed into the ocean. There are survivors despite this. She knows that.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" He says beside her. She barely hears him, introspective as she is right now, but she catches the tone of his voice. She thinks she hears admiration.

"Do you mean the island?" She asks, not looking at him. "Or the plane crash?"

He chuckles to himself, but he doesn't answer her question. They fade back into silence, the way, she feels, they should be.

"Juliet?" He breaks the silence again, and despite her chilled demeanour and hardened expression, touches her shoulder. "I hope you don't think any different of me after what I've done."

It takes her a moment to compose herself. His comment did not, admittedly, surprise her in the slightest. He had caught her off guard. As always.

"Of course not," she says. "You did what you had to do."

Even though she was lying through her teeth, he seems happy with her acquiescence. He looks down for a moment and smiles to himself before saying goodbye to Juliet and leaving her alone.

She watches him leave. When she is sure that he's finally gone, she looks back out over the island, and she allows herself a short, desperate sob. It's not much in the face of the emotion she feels, but for some reason it helps. It helps because she's alone now, with Ben, and she has nobody else. The others…they put on a smile around her, but she knows that she is unwanted.

"Oh, and, Juliet," Ben is back, suddenly, and he grabs her wrist and pulls her around so she faces him. He steps closer, too close, so she can feel his breath on her face. He pulls her wrist away from her, and she almost falls into him, steadying herself at the last moment.

"Don't fuck me over, Juliet," he says.

And this time he leaves her for good.

She stands still for a while, frozen. Her hand is still out in front of her where he let her go. She was, in truth, startled. In all of three years, she'd never heard him swear. He was more careful with his words than the average man, she knew that. He knew how to turn a simple sentence into something of a poem, so the word fuck had seemed wrong coming from him. The way he'd pronounced every letter, the way he'd lingered on the k. He'd said it so slowly, with so much control, it was almost as though he'd meant to say it. It wasn't flippant, a slip of the tongue. It was for effect, to hit home. It did. Hard.

Juliet, suddenly aware of herself, drops her hand to her side, and looks around as though she's just woken up. She thinks about going home, finding Goodwin and heading to the secluded beach they'd spent time in before. Hiding there until they forgot they existed. In her head it seems so simple. In reality there are always consequences. Cause and effect.

Action, reaction.

It almost hurts her to think about Ben. Where did this feeling come from? It isn't much, but it's definitely there. In amongst the hatred, the fear and the deep loathing she feels for him. Somehow, the tiniest spark of affection has wormed it's way into her. No, it isn't affection. It isn't respect either – it falls somewhere in between the two. The part that bothers her is the fact that it's there in the first place. She grabs her stomach instinctively, as if she's trying to rip the feeling out. She hates herself for even feeling a scrap of emotion for that monster.

Monster.

It is strange, she thinks, to call Benjamin Linus a monster. To even think of him in that way seems wrong, like a step into uncharted territory. Sadly, however, she knows that the word monster is applicable. Always has been, probably always will be. Although, when this monster has her life in his hands, Juliet doesn't want to find herself thinking of him in this way.

And he'd been so great. So charming.

In the beginning.

The smoke has long since stopped. Juliet decides that she should go back to the place she has been forced to call home. If she had the choice, she would stay where she was forever, but the sun is setting, and the sky has already turned an ominous shade of purple. For a second her thoughts turn to the survivors, and for the briefest of moments she feels guilty that she has a home to go to. She feels guilty because she was given time to adjust to this weird and, ultimately, wonderful place.

She feels guilty because they have no idea what they're in for.

The compound is empty when she gets there. It's even more strange, considering that people are usually out until well after midnight. But today, it is empty. The grass is still even though there is a strong breeze blowing through. The lights are off in every home. The curtains are closed. Juliet walks determinedly to her home, head down, arms folded. She thinks to herself, 'If I can get there and nothing happens, I will be safe tonight'. It is childish, she knows that, but somehow her mind is reassured. Even though it is an empty promise, she is reassured and she does not feel as worried.

"Hello Juliet."

She stops instantly, head still turned towards the ground. She knows that voice, knows that lilt. She looks up slowly, dreading what she already knows she will see. Ben is standing square in her path. He is wearing his jungle clothes, and Juliet understands why the compound is empty. He looks at her. It's so hard to read his mind when he's so flat.

"Ben," she says, tightening the grip she has around her chest, "I…"

"No, no, Juliet," Ben holds up a hand dismissively, "Your apologies won't work on me. We have work to do."

He holds out his hand – something that would be, if their circumstances were different, an extension of friendship. As they are, however, it's a leash. Suddenly she is crying, something she has wanted to do all day while looking out over the ocean. Ben does nothing for several seconds, but eventually he steps forward and puts a hand on her shoulder.

"Ben," she says through her tears, "Please…I just want to go home…"

His hand disappears immediately.

"No," he says quickly, and he walks away, leaving Juliet on her knees, sobbing the day away.

He leaves her because he knows that she will be back.

And she knows it too.