Lost fic: The Long Goodbye; or, The New Jacob of Craphole Island (Charlie/Boone, R)
Title: The Long Goodbye; or, The New Jacob of Craphole Island
Pairing: Charlie/Boone; with Shannon, Eko, and Ana, and mentions of other dear departed island denizens
Rating: R
Summary: Afterlife love story. Mostly lighthearted, boredline cracky stuff about being dead, but the interpersonal stuff with these two actually gets decently serious. Spoilers through the end of season three. 5000 words.
Note: This is something I wrote the bulk of in late January and never posted because it's a little odd. But I thought it might be entertaining, for all its inability to decide if it's silly or serious. Actually, it's both.
The Long Goodbye; or, The New Jacob of Craphole Island
In the end, being dead wasn't that bad. Everything was a little muffled, but you got used to it. Sometimes you found yourself in places you couldn't remember going to, but you shrugged it off. You shrugged everything off, because there was really nothing you could do about anything. Being dead meant finally realizing that that was always true.
The one thing that might've been annoying for Charlie was that he was stuck on the island, at least for the time being. Shannon sometimes called it the shifty time, Ana called it purgatory, Eko refused to talk about it at all, but it was Boone's name for it he liked best of all: the long goodbye. But, then again, he liked everything about Boone best of all, eventually. That was the surprising thing about death: liking things, having the freedom and space to genuinely enjoy things, like the clear water and the bright sun and the white sand. He was amazed to find how different the world looked when the threat of dying in it was taken away.
Shannon said the long goodbye was morbid, but Charlie came to see that she was still harboring more than a little resentment about not getting to say goodbye to so many people she loved. She spent a good deal of her between life (they didn't call it afterlife, because they knew they were moving on to that later) talking to Libby about it. Of course, they knew Libby wasn't really a shrink the same way they knew a lot of things they had no other way of knowing. They had a lot of vague superhuman powers, but Boone tended to shrug them off, too, saying about the fuzzy ESP that it was really only that their powers of observation had grown. That's all they really had to do anymore: watch. Through watching, they learned lots of things. What Boone had learned, apparently, in his much longer stretch of time between, was that he really, really wanted Charlie.
After Charlie had been dead some time and had begun to learn the ropes-which were surprisingly easy to learn; it was just a matter of acceptance-Boone told him he'd been hoping the next person to come to the between life would be him. Charlie, of course, was skeptical. It seemed to him like Nikki and Paolo would have covered either end of the sexual spectrum as most desired new residents of here-but-not-here. Apparently, though, all they did was bicker and shag and mostly keep to themselves, and, anyway, Boone said that if he could've picked anyone on the island, it would've been him.
Charlie said, "You sit up here wishing people dead?"
"Not exactly."
"So you didn't have anything to do with Desmond's visions?"
"Nope."
Charlie believed him.
"Why me?" Charlie said.
"Because I think I'm in love with you."
Charlie didn't reply.
Boone said, "Ah, shit. Too soon, right?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Sorry."
"It's fine," he replied with a shrug. Even if it wasn't. Not a problem, exactly, but not fine, either.
Boone said, "We knew it would be you or Desmond."
"Knew?"
"Yeah. The way we know things. Shan was kinda hoping for Desmond. She has a thing for accents."
Charlie just stared at him.
"Uh, Scottish ones."
"Boone, we're dead. You don't have to spare my feelings. Your sister-"
"Step-sister."
It suddenly dawned on him. "Bloody hell, you've slept with her, haven't you?"
"Yeah."
"You're so fucked up."
"I know."
"Anyway, I'm perfectly aware that your sister thinks I'm short and odd looking and strange."
"You are."
"Fuck you."
"I meant that in a good way. I'm glad it was you that went down into that hatch. We thought it was the bravest thing we've seen yet."
"We?"
"I think everybody was watching that day. Even some of the Others. You were amazing."
"Stupid."
"Stupidly brave."
Boone nodded and Charlie couldn't think of anything else to say.
Charlie really didn't know what to do about this business of Boone being in love with him. It wasn't like he could avoid him in a group their size, not unless he wanted to mix with the Others (not that there were many), or the Dharma people, who he learned were an entirely separate group. Don't even get him started on the island natives and the French group and the real Henry Gale. The Dharma people were the largest group here besides themselves, and they were fucking creepy. Kept to their side of the island mainly. Good for information, though. Roger had a bad habit of popping in on them in their enclave near the camp and reporting about things, which was apparently actually rather helpful when Jack and Kate and Sawyer were captured.
Not that they couldn't have just gone and watched the show for themselves. They could go wherever they wanted on the island, but Charlie had spent his between life so far floating about the shoreline he knew so well, watching Claire and Desmond and Hurley, missing the hell out of them. About the time the Boone thing began to get to him, he decided it was time he got the fuck away from there for a while, to stop pretending he was still alive and living with the other survivors. He wanted to see the other parts of the island, so he went with Ana and Eko on an expedition.
Turns out if you have a long enough purgatorio, you can learn to control where you go when you…teleport? Whatever it was. Ana and Eko were stubborn enough to train their celestial spirits quite well despite their comparatively short time spent kicking around the long goodbye. They were in it for the long haul, they said. Although one dead man (and a really bad one at that!) versus several hundred didn't compute for Charlie as the same length of time to serve, Eko said it was all so much more complex than some sin equation. If it wasn't, Charlie wouldn't have gotten hung up there at all. Martyrs, in the Bible, move on immediately.
Ana said, "Maybe you aren't a martyr, Ringo. Maybe you're just a moron."
Eko smacked her on the ass with his scripture stick. He was a bit less dour in this not-life. A bit. They made a good pair, actually.
Eko said, "It's not about how many people you wronged. It's about the state of your soul."
"State?" she said. "Seems to me like I'm dead."
"Yes," he said. "With so much anger and bitterness built up on your wings that you'll never be able to soar and leave this place."
Charlie was comforted by how Eko was still rather obliquely spiritual. But he still didn't know what the fuck he was talking about a lot of the time.
"Wings," Charlie said. "We get wings?"
"No," Ana said. "Metaphor. Just about everything he says anymore is in metaphor."
"Why?"
She just shrugged her shoulders and said, "C'mon, Frodo. Get your ass over here if you want to travel with me."
"This is just like in Harry Potter, y'know? Apparating. It's like you're taking me sidealong. I wonder how everything came out in the last two books."
Ana shrugged but Eko said, "The old Wizard turned out to be a homosexual."
"Dumbledore?"
"Yes. Dumbledore. Ask Joanna to tell you the whole story later. She's far more in tune with the world over there."
It seemed odd to Charlie to think that they could somehow tap into the outside world and just know things, but it was only odd because they couldn't do a damn thing about what was right in front of them. Libby told him early on that he would make himself crazy trying to get people's attention to try and warn them about things. She said he would have to learn to let them be stupid. It took a lot of learning.
On the third day of their expedition (or the fourth-who the hell knew what actually measured a day anymore) he and Eko and Ana had been gliding across the beach on the far side of Craphole Island when Shannon suddenly appeared out of thin air. He'd mostly gotten used to that kind of thing, but it was still a little disconcerting for her to show up miles from where she had undoubtedly been, given the terrifying expression she wore.
"Alright. Which one of you summoned me?"
Her tone made them not at all anxious to answer her. Ana especially. She stared at her feet.
Finally, Eko said, "It is a stupid question, Shannon. Obviously, Ana did not, and neither one of us are so loose of spirits to send a summons flinging across the island at you, so-"
Shannon glared at Charlie. "You. I should've known. So-what? What is so goddamn important?"
"I don't know," he said. "I didn't know I could do that. I was just thinking…"
"Oh my God," she said, eyes widening. At first he thought it was because she thought he was stupid. But then he saw that she knew what he was just thinking. She flailed her arms dramatically. "He's not in love with me, okay. We fucked about three times after I got here, because we were so happy to see each other. It was fine. It wasn't anything to write home about. He's been watching your dumb ass for weeks now. It's annoying. 'Shan, do you think he ever got stoned and screwed around with his bandmates?' 'Shan, do you think he would do it if he got to top, because you know I don't mind being the bottom?' (As if I've done anything that fucking kinky with him.) 'Shan, do you think he'll deal with the change okay?' I swear to God, I'm tired of contemplating your every thought and feeling."
"Then stop," Ana snapped. "Let Boone go poking around Charlie's head if he wants."
"Hey!" Charlie said.
Ana said, "As if we don't all know everything about each other anyway."
Shannon said, "Well, that's the thing. Boone can't read Charlie. I think that's why he's got this ridiculous jones for him. And it is ridiculous. Look at him."
"Hey," Charlie said. "I'm standing right here."
Eko said, "And look at you, Shannon. I don't recall anyone having a jones for you and your shameless bikini over several new arrivals now."
Ana bit back a laugh as Shannon flipped Eko off and stalked out into the woods.
But as she went, she said, "Can I fucking go now, Master Pace?"
"Yeah. Whatever."
After a few more days out, they'd completed their circuit, and by the time Charlie got back to the beach, he'd almost forgotten what Shannon said about Boone. Almost, but not quite.
The nicest thing about being dead on the island turned out to be meeting the other people who had been on the plane. They called themselves the never-survivors, as opposed to the had beens and the still ares, more commonly simply the living. Many of the people from the plane were stuck ocean walking, which was apparently not so bad, but several of them had landed dead on the island or died shortly thereafter, so Charlie had a whole new crop of people to get to know. Learning to leave the old beach meant he met even more of them. They made passing the time fun instead of just numb.
But one of those never-survivors in particular made him rather nervous. She had set her sights on Boone, and she was going to have him. Had already had him, in fact. Charlie didn't like it at all, and he didn't know why. Surely she'd been glued to Boone since Charlie got to the long goodbye, but he hadn't noticed it until he went away and came back. Everything looked different now, with a little perspective, even himself and his between life. He'd thought he was already perfectly adjusted to being dead before he left for his trip, but when he got back he realized there was still a level of acceptance he was just beginning to reach. Now that he knew that, he hoped he could finally begin.
When Charlie found Boone one afternoon sitting by the fire, he sat down beside him without in the slightest thinking about this weird tension between them. Or maybe instead thinking it wasn't so weird, actually. On the other side of the fire, Sawyer and Jack were bickering and Boone was watching it like it was a really good soap opera. It was his favorite pastime, so much that his body tended to take him wherever they were if they started arguing or even simply spoke heatedly about something. Since Juliet's arrival in camp, there had been a lot of what Nikki, in her calmer and more lucid moments, called free almost-porn, although she was more fond of the Sawyer and Sayid show. Boone preferred Jack and Sawyer.
"They're not shagging," Charlie said as he sat down. By then, he'd gotten used to speaking and knowing they couldn't hear or see him. It was a wonderful freedom. Jack and Sawyer just kept glaring at each other. Boone watched every twitch of their muscles and every frown intently.
Without looking at him, he replied, "I know that. They're straight."
"Well, I didn't know that. You sure?"
"Positive. Not that the dominance game isn't fun."
"Which one of them do you want to shag?"
"Neither."
"Oh, come off it."
"Which one do you?"
"I'm pretty straight, Boone."
"Pretty?"
"In practice."
Boone nodded. "Jack."
For a second, Jack's eyes scanned across the fire, but then they shifted back to Sawyer.
Spooked, Charlie said, "What the hell was that?"
Boone just grinned knowingly. "I think they can hear me."
"That's impossible."
"I don't know. I've been thinking-I can't control my movements very much; maybe I got an extra dose of the ESP thing."
"Crazy."
"Was there ever a time you thought you heard me?"
"What? No. I don't know."
"You don't know, or you don't want to say?"
"Boone…"
"I'm serious."
"Yeah. I know. Too serious sometimes. Is it true that you can't read me?"
"What?"
"Shannon said…"
"I can read you if I want. I just don't."
"Why not?"
"I don't want to invade your privacy."
"There's not really privacy anymore, though, is there? I know things about you."
"Such as…"
"Such as you were actually hoping the most for Jack to cross over."
"Yeah. Sure. Because I wanted him to know I'm okay. I think he does, now. I've told him."
"But he doesn't hear you."
"Yes. I think he does."
"Because you wanna shag him."
"I don't-- Okay, I won't lie. I'm very attracted to Jack. But if he were here right now-"
"He is."
"Actually here, where I could put my hands on him. If he were, I wouldn't. Not if you wanted me."
"Are you, like, waiting for me to decide I'm gay or something?, because-"
"You're not gay."
"I'm glad you seem to realize that."
"But you're dead. Things change. You like me. I saw you cry at my grave once."
"If that's what you're basing this on, you're crazy. I was going a bit mad, then, about my own life, and-"
"I'm not stupid. All I'm saying is you went to my grave to do it. Shan was gone, too. And Ana. And Eko. You came to me. And I know I heard you say you wished I'd been around longer so you could get to know me."
"How do you know it wasn't just an empty thing to say?"
"I don't. But me wanting you came a long time before that."
"Before you died?"
"No. Then, I didn't pay attention. Now, I do. We pick people like we pick good movies or good novels. You know that by now. Yours was the most compelling story. At least to me."
"I didn't do anything but constantly get yelled at and saved."
"First, you're an idiot if you think that's all you did. Second, it was you that interested me, not the things that happened to you."
"I still don't get it. Why me?"
"I think you're hot?" he said with a shrug.
"It's more than that."
"Did you ever imagine what it would've been like to have me there with everybody, doing something the whole group was doing?"
"Once."
"I know you did. That's the closest I ever came to prying into your head intentionally. I had been minding my own fucking business, dicking around with Carmen Abogodo, one of the nevers, down at the shore. Collecting seashells. Anyway, something dragged me out to the camp. You. I heard you think it, that you wished I was there. I wanted to know why, but I didn't slip in and see."
"So…I'm more important than Carmen?"
He nodded, and a grin spread over his face. "Of course."
"I thought…"
"Just passing the time. She's hot."
"Yeah."
"But you know which day I mean, don't you? That you thought about me?"
"I do. But it wasn't the day you tried to talk to me."
Boone shook his head, grinning again. "So you did hear me?"
"Hear? No. Felt."
Boone shivered, and for the first time in the conversation, he turned away from Jack and Sawyer entirely and looked only at him.
Charlie said, "I don't understand how you could want me so much knowing that story in particular."
Boone contemplated an answer for a moment, then said, "Sawyer's a very persuasive person, and you were…weak then. And you didn't hurt her."
Charlie shrugged, unable to look at him.
Boone offered, "I banged my sister. Does that make you hate me?"
"Step sister. And it's not the same thing."
"Maybe not. But we're both kinda pathetic. Were, anyway."
Charlie got quiet then, hoping Boone was going to be flaky as usual and drop off from the conversation, to watch Jack and Sawyer again and not make him think too much about himself. He was unaccustomed to doing that anymore; it's not like he couldn't go back over the bad, but there was no real reason to. It was over.
About the time he'd actually begun to think he'd gotten lucky, Boone said, "So, you were, like, jealous because Carmen's been hovering over me?"
"Maybe."
"I'll take it."
"Boone?"
"Yeah."
"It's not that you're not… Jesus. You know you're not bad to look at, and I like you a lot as a person. It's only… Well, I don't think I'm supposed to be here very long."
Boone sighed. "I know."
"Well, if you know, why haven't you just made a move already?"
"I don't need to make a move. I'm content just to be your friend."
"Bullshit."
"It's not."
"It is. I don't get this 'I'm content' posture. Like you're the fucking Buddha or something. Or worse. How come everybody else on this not-island has the energy to travel and start petty personal wars, and you just sit here watching Jack and Sawyer spew their testosterone all day?"
"I've got a long road."
"Whatever," Charlie huffed.
Boone gave him a heavy glance, doing that thing where eyes went momentarily deep, almost bottomless with cool blue. "I'm serious. I will be here for a long, long time."
"Why?"
"Because they need me."
Charlie could feel how serious he was before he even said it, and it made him nervous.
"You're taking this martyr thing a little too seriously, mate," he replied, halfway between joking and frustrated.
Boone shook his head. "The island took me. I'm tied to it in ways you aren't. I think I might never leave."
"God. Really?"
"Yeah. And I think it's why they can hear me. If they're close enough to the island, they can hear me."
"You're starting to freak me out."
Boone huffed out a breath, suddenly smiling, perhaps bitterly. "It gets better. You know that bug-eyed guy on the other side of the island?"
"Used to be Henry Gale? Roger's kid Ben?"
"Yeah. He thinks the island talks to him."
"Does it?"
"Somebody did. Somebody who moved on when I came in. That last sacrifice, I think. His name was Jacob. And now I talk in his place."
"What?"
Boone nodded, looking suddenly mischievous. "I couldn't help it. He had John up there."
"Up where?"
"Shack in the hills. It was before you crossed. Anyway, he brought John up there and I… Well, I put on a show."
"Jesus. We're not ghosts, Boone. You told me that when I first got here."
"I know. That's how I know I'm different. Somehow. Charlie, when you felt me, that day you dragged Sun out of her garden, where did you feel me?"
"A palm. On my chest." He reached out and pressed his hand to Boone's chest. "Holding me back."
"How did you know it was me?"
"I just…did."
"Do you want me?"
His hand was still on Boone's chest, and it amused him the way it always did to feel a pulse there, a heartbeat. Sometimes it was easy to forget that none of this was really real. It felt real enough. This, with Boone, felt real. Honest, too, in a way it was easy to lose track of honesty in a place where everyone already knew most everything about each other.
Charlie realized, then, how reluctant he'd been to actually probe into Boone's mind. Or his own, apparently.
He replied, "I don't know."
"That's fair."
"Stop it!" Charlie said, finally taking his had back. "Stop acting like you don't care if I'm here."
"I do care."
"Then why did you let me go off to the other side of the fucking island and ignore you?"
"I want you to want me. I'm trying to let things happen in their own time. That's what this place is about."
"Boone," he said. "I admire this stupid thing you have about not invading my privacy, I really do, but it's not helping you. I promise. If you'd just poked around in my head for, I don't know, five minutes-hell, if you paid as much attention to me as you say you have-you'd know I never know what I want until somebody makes me see it. You hear the shit they're saying about me? Hero. It's bullshit."
"But it's not. You-"
"Stepped up to the plate, once the plate was practically thrown at me. I did what anybody else would've done, but only because Desmond looked me in the eyes and told me it needed doing and if I did it, it would matter. For once in my goddamned life."
Boone just stared at him.
"Jesus Christ," Charlie said. "Come here." As Charlie stood up and settled himself in Boone's lap, straddling his thighs, he grabbed him by the wrist. The fire crackled behind him, and he felt this kind of adrenaline he didn't usually feel anymore. Maybe the last time had been when Marshal Ed took him cliff diving.
Charlie pulled Boone's hand up and pressed it to his heart, just where it had been before, that day he was sure ghosts were real. "Feel this. No, don't just feel. Listen. I give you permission, you twit. There isn't a bloody thing in my head that I don't mind you knowing. But I think you should pay attention to the kind of women I've always been attracted to, including your fucking step-sister."
It was weird. He found himself trying to concentrate on particular memories, but all that kept going through his head was how pink Boone's lips were, how good he smelled, how he kind of liked how nervous he was, how warm his skin was under his hands.
Boone shifted, finally, and drew him into a long, insistent kiss. It was better than anything Charlie could ever remember remembering.
As he pulled back, Charlie felt a flood of warmth come over his body, laying down soft over an arousal that spiked up into his chest and made him feel tight and alive. Almost. It was maybe better than being alive, because he had no doubt about what was going through Boone's head.
Still, Charlie groused: "About fucking time. I think I'd been feeling your crazy ass hovering over me for a long time before I died. No wonder was so bleeding tense."
"Sorry."
"Shit. No. It's fine. I think I've also been weirdly calm at- Fuck, you were down there when I…? Weren't you?"
Boone stared at him for a long time, then he finally nodded, quick and solemn.
"Jesus," Charlie said.
"Sorry. Is that…?"
"Weird? Yeah. But nice, too, I think. Like this is nice."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Are you always so scared to make a move?"
"Actually, no," Boone said with a chuckle, pressing his face against his throat. "I never was. I wouldn't have been, if we were both alive."
"So why now?"
"I don't know what I'm doing here, and it…"
"What?" Charlie drew back to look at him.
"I'm scared. Not about you. You're not scary at all. It's this deal with the island."
"I thought you said you felt like you have a purpose."
"I do. That's what's scary. And knowing I might be stuck here indefinitely until somebody else makes a sacrifice… You know, I was the most scared it would be you and we'd miss each other."
"I wasn't a sacrifice."
"No." He turned his head away. "I'm really, really afraid you were a gift."
"No," Charlie said, taking his head in his hands and turning it back. "No. Whatever happened to me was bigger than your sodding island. And I chose it of my own free will."
"Okay."
"Boone, whatever it was, I'm here in the between life, stuck too. And it's no more fair than it was when you crossed, all because you were stupid enough to believe John had the answers."
"Maybe he does."
"Maybe. Maybe you're here for a reason. Maybe I am, too. What I wanna know is what the fuck your problem is? I come here and you're telling me you love me, then you're acting like you're scared of me."
"Not of you. Of getting too close and having you leave."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
Charlie took a deep breath, but just as the gravity of Boone's admission began to hit him-he was only now starting to really listen to Boone's heart and mind as well as his words-suddenly a weird combination of infinite patience with this strange universe and infinite lack of patience with wasting time in it surged through him and he said:
"Well, wouldn't you rather have me than not have me?"
Boone smiled softly. "I guess."
"Fucking hell, Boone."
"No-fucking hell, you." Boone pushed him up and off him. As Charlie fell back into the place he's been in before, Boone rose nervously and stared down at him. "You're straight, remember?" he said with an emphatic gesture. "You're the one running all over the island to get away from me. How in hell should I have known that all it takes to get in your pants is to just manhandle you a little? And why should I think that's what you actually want?"
"Did your step-sister bother to tell you how she ended up talking to me about you? I accidentally called her from across the whole fucking island, just because I was thinking about whether you were in love with her or she was in love with you."
"I know that," he said, turning his back on him to watch Jack and Sawyer over the fire. "So."
"So? I was thinking about you without even knowing it. Who knows how long I've been doing that. And when I came back and saw you with Carmen the other day, I forgot for a minute that we can't die, because I sure as hell wanted to strangle her just for talking to you."
Boone turned back and gave him a quick, sly grin. Hot as hell. "I knew you were the jealous type," he said.
"Well, get used to it. As long as I'm here, you're a one-man man. Got that?"
As Boone came and sat back down, he said, "Bossy, too."
"You like bossy."
"I do. But you're straight."
"If you say that one more time, I'll…"
"Frown at me?"
"Shut up."
"I'm serious, Charlie. I don't wanna pressure you into anything."
"That's it," he said. "That's it. Right now. You and me. I'm going to throw you on the ground right here and grope you within an inch of your life, or at least until you're convinced I do want you." Charlie scooted off his seat and onto the sand, reaching for his hand, which Boone willingly offered.
"Okay," Boone said.
"Okay?" Charlie groused, pulling him down to the ground on top of him. "I'm about to show you okay, you fucking chicken."
In the end, it was Charlie who got shown. Boone gave him the best blowjob of any state of his life, and Charlie was, thankfully, not to at all bothered by this new dimension to his sexuality. He vaguely wondered if maybe his normal straightness was overcome by how much easier sex was with this ESP thing, but he decided he didn't actually care. All that mattered was he knew he would be able to suck Boone's cock and make it pretty good. He knew like he knew a lot of things he shouldn't know.
The more important thing, something he wouldn't have told Boone, only he had to since there were no secrets on Craphole Island, not even between them anymore: he now felt like he had the ability to stay in the long goodbye as long as he damn well wanted. Longer, anyway, than he strictly needed to. Long enough, hopefully, to help Boone find a purpose for his possibly permanent in-between.
That is, a purpose apart from scaring the piss out of John Locke and Roger's kid. Oh, yes-this was going to be a long goodbye indeed.
~
Pairing: Charlie/Boone; with Shannon, Eko, and Ana, and mentions of other dear departed island denizens
Rating: R
Summary: Afterlife love story. Mostly lighthearted, boredline cracky stuff about being dead, but the interpersonal stuff with these two actually gets decently serious. Spoilers through the end of season three. 5000 words.
Note: This is something I wrote the bulk of in late January and never posted because it's a little odd. But I thought it might be entertaining, for all its inability to decide if it's silly or serious. Actually, it's both.
The Long Goodbye; or, The New Jacob of Craphole Island
In the end, being dead wasn't that bad. Everything was a little muffled, but you got used to it. Sometimes you found yourself in places you couldn't remember going to, but you shrugged it off. You shrugged everything off, because there was really nothing you could do about anything. Being dead meant finally realizing that that was always true.
The one thing that might've been annoying for Charlie was that he was stuck on the island, at least for the time being. Shannon sometimes called it the shifty time, Ana called it purgatory, Eko refused to talk about it at all, but it was Boone's name for it he liked best of all: the long goodbye. But, then again, he liked everything about Boone best of all, eventually. That was the surprising thing about death: liking things, having the freedom and space to genuinely enjoy things, like the clear water and the bright sun and the white sand. He was amazed to find how different the world looked when the threat of dying in it was taken away.
Shannon said the long goodbye was morbid, but Charlie came to see that she was still harboring more than a little resentment about not getting to say goodbye to so many people she loved. She spent a good deal of her between life (they didn't call it afterlife, because they knew they were moving on to that later) talking to Libby about it. Of course, they knew Libby wasn't really a shrink the same way they knew a lot of things they had no other way of knowing. They had a lot of vague superhuman powers, but Boone tended to shrug them off, too, saying about the fuzzy ESP that it was really only that their powers of observation had grown. That's all they really had to do anymore: watch. Through watching, they learned lots of things. What Boone had learned, apparently, in his much longer stretch of time between, was that he really, really wanted Charlie.
After Charlie had been dead some time and had begun to learn the ropes-which were surprisingly easy to learn; it was just a matter of acceptance-Boone told him he'd been hoping the next person to come to the between life would be him. Charlie, of course, was skeptical. It seemed to him like Nikki and Paolo would have covered either end of the sexual spectrum as most desired new residents of here-but-not-here. Apparently, though, all they did was bicker and shag and mostly keep to themselves, and, anyway, Boone said that if he could've picked anyone on the island, it would've been him.
Charlie said, "You sit up here wishing people dead?"
"Not exactly."
"So you didn't have anything to do with Desmond's visions?"
"Nope."
Charlie believed him.
"Why me?" Charlie said.
"Because I think I'm in love with you."
Charlie didn't reply.
Boone said, "Ah, shit. Too soon, right?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Sorry."
"It's fine," he replied with a shrug. Even if it wasn't. Not a problem, exactly, but not fine, either.
Boone said, "We knew it would be you or Desmond."
"Knew?"
"Yeah. The way we know things. Shan was kinda hoping for Desmond. She has a thing for accents."
Charlie just stared at him.
"Uh, Scottish ones."
"Boone, we're dead. You don't have to spare my feelings. Your sister-"
"Step-sister."
It suddenly dawned on him. "Bloody hell, you've slept with her, haven't you?"
"Yeah."
"You're so fucked up."
"I know."
"Anyway, I'm perfectly aware that your sister thinks I'm short and odd looking and strange."
"You are."
"Fuck you."
"I meant that in a good way. I'm glad it was you that went down into that hatch. We thought it was the bravest thing we've seen yet."
"We?"
"I think everybody was watching that day. Even some of the Others. You were amazing."
"Stupid."
"Stupidly brave."
Boone nodded and Charlie couldn't think of anything else to say.
Charlie really didn't know what to do about this business of Boone being in love with him. It wasn't like he could avoid him in a group their size, not unless he wanted to mix with the Others (not that there were many), or the Dharma people, who he learned were an entirely separate group. Don't even get him started on the island natives and the French group and the real Henry Gale. The Dharma people were the largest group here besides themselves, and they were fucking creepy. Kept to their side of the island mainly. Good for information, though. Roger had a bad habit of popping in on them in their enclave near the camp and reporting about things, which was apparently actually rather helpful when Jack and Kate and Sawyer were captured.
Not that they couldn't have just gone and watched the show for themselves. They could go wherever they wanted on the island, but Charlie had spent his between life so far floating about the shoreline he knew so well, watching Claire and Desmond and Hurley, missing the hell out of them. About the time the Boone thing began to get to him, he decided it was time he got the fuck away from there for a while, to stop pretending he was still alive and living with the other survivors. He wanted to see the other parts of the island, so he went with Ana and Eko on an expedition.
Turns out if you have a long enough purgatorio, you can learn to control where you go when you…teleport? Whatever it was. Ana and Eko were stubborn enough to train their celestial spirits quite well despite their comparatively short time spent kicking around the long goodbye. They were in it for the long haul, they said. Although one dead man (and a really bad one at that!) versus several hundred didn't compute for Charlie as the same length of time to serve, Eko said it was all so much more complex than some sin equation. If it wasn't, Charlie wouldn't have gotten hung up there at all. Martyrs, in the Bible, move on immediately.
Ana said, "Maybe you aren't a martyr, Ringo. Maybe you're just a moron."
Eko smacked her on the ass with his scripture stick. He was a bit less dour in this not-life. A bit. They made a good pair, actually.
Eko said, "It's not about how many people you wronged. It's about the state of your soul."
"State?" she said. "Seems to me like I'm dead."
"Yes," he said. "With so much anger and bitterness built up on your wings that you'll never be able to soar and leave this place."
Charlie was comforted by how Eko was still rather obliquely spiritual. But he still didn't know what the fuck he was talking about a lot of the time.
"Wings," Charlie said. "We get wings?"
"No," Ana said. "Metaphor. Just about everything he says anymore is in metaphor."
"Why?"
She just shrugged her shoulders and said, "C'mon, Frodo. Get your ass over here if you want to travel with me."
"This is just like in Harry Potter, y'know? Apparating. It's like you're taking me sidealong. I wonder how everything came out in the last two books."
Ana shrugged but Eko said, "The old Wizard turned out to be a homosexual."
"Dumbledore?"
"Yes. Dumbledore. Ask Joanna to tell you the whole story later. She's far more in tune with the world over there."
It seemed odd to Charlie to think that they could somehow tap into the outside world and just know things, but it was only odd because they couldn't do a damn thing about what was right in front of them. Libby told him early on that he would make himself crazy trying to get people's attention to try and warn them about things. She said he would have to learn to let them be stupid. It took a lot of learning.
On the third day of their expedition (or the fourth-who the hell knew what actually measured a day anymore) he and Eko and Ana had been gliding across the beach on the far side of Craphole Island when Shannon suddenly appeared out of thin air. He'd mostly gotten used to that kind of thing, but it was still a little disconcerting for her to show up miles from where she had undoubtedly been, given the terrifying expression she wore.
"Alright. Which one of you summoned me?"
Her tone made them not at all anxious to answer her. Ana especially. She stared at her feet.
Finally, Eko said, "It is a stupid question, Shannon. Obviously, Ana did not, and neither one of us are so loose of spirits to send a summons flinging across the island at you, so-"
Shannon glared at Charlie. "You. I should've known. So-what? What is so goddamn important?"
"I don't know," he said. "I didn't know I could do that. I was just thinking…"
"Oh my God," she said, eyes widening. At first he thought it was because she thought he was stupid. But then he saw that she knew what he was just thinking. She flailed her arms dramatically. "He's not in love with me, okay. We fucked about three times after I got here, because we were so happy to see each other. It was fine. It wasn't anything to write home about. He's been watching your dumb ass for weeks now. It's annoying. 'Shan, do you think he ever got stoned and screwed around with his bandmates?' 'Shan, do you think he would do it if he got to top, because you know I don't mind being the bottom?' (As if I've done anything that fucking kinky with him.) 'Shan, do you think he'll deal with the change okay?' I swear to God, I'm tired of contemplating your every thought and feeling."
"Then stop," Ana snapped. "Let Boone go poking around Charlie's head if he wants."
"Hey!" Charlie said.
Ana said, "As if we don't all know everything about each other anyway."
Shannon said, "Well, that's the thing. Boone can't read Charlie. I think that's why he's got this ridiculous jones for him. And it is ridiculous. Look at him."
"Hey," Charlie said. "I'm standing right here."
Eko said, "And look at you, Shannon. I don't recall anyone having a jones for you and your shameless bikini over several new arrivals now."
Ana bit back a laugh as Shannon flipped Eko off and stalked out into the woods.
But as she went, she said, "Can I fucking go now, Master Pace?"
"Yeah. Whatever."
After a few more days out, they'd completed their circuit, and by the time Charlie got back to the beach, he'd almost forgotten what Shannon said about Boone. Almost, but not quite.
The nicest thing about being dead on the island turned out to be meeting the other people who had been on the plane. They called themselves the never-survivors, as opposed to the had beens and the still ares, more commonly simply the living. Many of the people from the plane were stuck ocean walking, which was apparently not so bad, but several of them had landed dead on the island or died shortly thereafter, so Charlie had a whole new crop of people to get to know. Learning to leave the old beach meant he met even more of them. They made passing the time fun instead of just numb.
But one of those never-survivors in particular made him rather nervous. She had set her sights on Boone, and she was going to have him. Had already had him, in fact. Charlie didn't like it at all, and he didn't know why. Surely she'd been glued to Boone since Charlie got to the long goodbye, but he hadn't noticed it until he went away and came back. Everything looked different now, with a little perspective, even himself and his between life. He'd thought he was already perfectly adjusted to being dead before he left for his trip, but when he got back he realized there was still a level of acceptance he was just beginning to reach. Now that he knew that, he hoped he could finally begin.
When Charlie found Boone one afternoon sitting by the fire, he sat down beside him without in the slightest thinking about this weird tension between them. Or maybe instead thinking it wasn't so weird, actually. On the other side of the fire, Sawyer and Jack were bickering and Boone was watching it like it was a really good soap opera. It was his favorite pastime, so much that his body tended to take him wherever they were if they started arguing or even simply spoke heatedly about something. Since Juliet's arrival in camp, there had been a lot of what Nikki, in her calmer and more lucid moments, called free almost-porn, although she was more fond of the Sawyer and Sayid show. Boone preferred Jack and Sawyer.
"They're not shagging," Charlie said as he sat down. By then, he'd gotten used to speaking and knowing they couldn't hear or see him. It was a wonderful freedom. Jack and Sawyer just kept glaring at each other. Boone watched every twitch of their muscles and every frown intently.
Without looking at him, he replied, "I know that. They're straight."
"Well, I didn't know that. You sure?"
"Positive. Not that the dominance game isn't fun."
"Which one of them do you want to shag?"
"Neither."
"Oh, come off it."
"Which one do you?"
"I'm pretty straight, Boone."
"Pretty?"
"In practice."
Boone nodded. "Jack."
For a second, Jack's eyes scanned across the fire, but then they shifted back to Sawyer.
Spooked, Charlie said, "What the hell was that?"
Boone just grinned knowingly. "I think they can hear me."
"That's impossible."
"I don't know. I've been thinking-I can't control my movements very much; maybe I got an extra dose of the ESP thing."
"Crazy."
"Was there ever a time you thought you heard me?"
"What? No. I don't know."
"You don't know, or you don't want to say?"
"Boone…"
"I'm serious."
"Yeah. I know. Too serious sometimes. Is it true that you can't read me?"
"What?"
"Shannon said…"
"I can read you if I want. I just don't."
"Why not?"
"I don't want to invade your privacy."
"There's not really privacy anymore, though, is there? I know things about you."
"Such as…"
"Such as you were actually hoping the most for Jack to cross over."
"Yeah. Sure. Because I wanted him to know I'm okay. I think he does, now. I've told him."
"But he doesn't hear you."
"Yes. I think he does."
"Because you wanna shag him."
"I don't-- Okay, I won't lie. I'm very attracted to Jack. But if he were here right now-"
"He is."
"Actually here, where I could put my hands on him. If he were, I wouldn't. Not if you wanted me."
"Are you, like, waiting for me to decide I'm gay or something?, because-"
"You're not gay."
"I'm glad you seem to realize that."
"But you're dead. Things change. You like me. I saw you cry at my grave once."
"If that's what you're basing this on, you're crazy. I was going a bit mad, then, about my own life, and-"
"I'm not stupid. All I'm saying is you went to my grave to do it. Shan was gone, too. And Ana. And Eko. You came to me. And I know I heard you say you wished I'd been around longer so you could get to know me."
"How do you know it wasn't just an empty thing to say?"
"I don't. But me wanting you came a long time before that."
"Before you died?"
"No. Then, I didn't pay attention. Now, I do. We pick people like we pick good movies or good novels. You know that by now. Yours was the most compelling story. At least to me."
"I didn't do anything but constantly get yelled at and saved."
"First, you're an idiot if you think that's all you did. Second, it was you that interested me, not the things that happened to you."
"I still don't get it. Why me?"
"I think you're hot?" he said with a shrug.
"It's more than that."
"Did you ever imagine what it would've been like to have me there with everybody, doing something the whole group was doing?"
"Once."
"I know you did. That's the closest I ever came to prying into your head intentionally. I had been minding my own fucking business, dicking around with Carmen Abogodo, one of the nevers, down at the shore. Collecting seashells. Anyway, something dragged me out to the camp. You. I heard you think it, that you wished I was there. I wanted to know why, but I didn't slip in and see."
"So…I'm more important than Carmen?"
He nodded, and a grin spread over his face. "Of course."
"I thought…"
"Just passing the time. She's hot."
"Yeah."
"But you know which day I mean, don't you? That you thought about me?"
"I do. But it wasn't the day you tried to talk to me."
Boone shook his head, grinning again. "So you did hear me?"
"Hear? No. Felt."
Boone shivered, and for the first time in the conversation, he turned away from Jack and Sawyer entirely and looked only at him.
Charlie said, "I don't understand how you could want me so much knowing that story in particular."
Boone contemplated an answer for a moment, then said, "Sawyer's a very persuasive person, and you were…weak then. And you didn't hurt her."
Charlie shrugged, unable to look at him.
Boone offered, "I banged my sister. Does that make you hate me?"
"Step sister. And it's not the same thing."
"Maybe not. But we're both kinda pathetic. Were, anyway."
Charlie got quiet then, hoping Boone was going to be flaky as usual and drop off from the conversation, to watch Jack and Sawyer again and not make him think too much about himself. He was unaccustomed to doing that anymore; it's not like he couldn't go back over the bad, but there was no real reason to. It was over.
About the time he'd actually begun to think he'd gotten lucky, Boone said, "So, you were, like, jealous because Carmen's been hovering over me?"
"Maybe."
"I'll take it."
"Boone?"
"Yeah."
"It's not that you're not… Jesus. You know you're not bad to look at, and I like you a lot as a person. It's only… Well, I don't think I'm supposed to be here very long."
Boone sighed. "I know."
"Well, if you know, why haven't you just made a move already?"
"I don't need to make a move. I'm content just to be your friend."
"Bullshit."
"It's not."
"It is. I don't get this 'I'm content' posture. Like you're the fucking Buddha or something. Or worse. How come everybody else on this not-island has the energy to travel and start petty personal wars, and you just sit here watching Jack and Sawyer spew their testosterone all day?"
"I've got a long road."
"Whatever," Charlie huffed.
Boone gave him a heavy glance, doing that thing where eyes went momentarily deep, almost bottomless with cool blue. "I'm serious. I will be here for a long, long time."
"Why?"
"Because they need me."
Charlie could feel how serious he was before he even said it, and it made him nervous.
"You're taking this martyr thing a little too seriously, mate," he replied, halfway between joking and frustrated.
Boone shook his head. "The island took me. I'm tied to it in ways you aren't. I think I might never leave."
"God. Really?"
"Yeah. And I think it's why they can hear me. If they're close enough to the island, they can hear me."
"You're starting to freak me out."
Boone huffed out a breath, suddenly smiling, perhaps bitterly. "It gets better. You know that bug-eyed guy on the other side of the island?"
"Used to be Henry Gale? Roger's kid Ben?"
"Yeah. He thinks the island talks to him."
"Does it?"
"Somebody did. Somebody who moved on when I came in. That last sacrifice, I think. His name was Jacob. And now I talk in his place."
"What?"
Boone nodded, looking suddenly mischievous. "I couldn't help it. He had John up there."
"Up where?"
"Shack in the hills. It was before you crossed. Anyway, he brought John up there and I… Well, I put on a show."
"Jesus. We're not ghosts, Boone. You told me that when I first got here."
"I know. That's how I know I'm different. Somehow. Charlie, when you felt me, that day you dragged Sun out of her garden, where did you feel me?"
"A palm. On my chest." He reached out and pressed his hand to Boone's chest. "Holding me back."
"How did you know it was me?"
"I just…did."
"Do you want me?"
His hand was still on Boone's chest, and it amused him the way it always did to feel a pulse there, a heartbeat. Sometimes it was easy to forget that none of this was really real. It felt real enough. This, with Boone, felt real. Honest, too, in a way it was easy to lose track of honesty in a place where everyone already knew most everything about each other.
Charlie realized, then, how reluctant he'd been to actually probe into Boone's mind. Or his own, apparently.
He replied, "I don't know."
"That's fair."
"Stop it!" Charlie said, finally taking his had back. "Stop acting like you don't care if I'm here."
"I do care."
"Then why did you let me go off to the other side of the fucking island and ignore you?"
"I want you to want me. I'm trying to let things happen in their own time. That's what this place is about."
"Boone," he said. "I admire this stupid thing you have about not invading my privacy, I really do, but it's not helping you. I promise. If you'd just poked around in my head for, I don't know, five minutes-hell, if you paid as much attention to me as you say you have-you'd know I never know what I want until somebody makes me see it. You hear the shit they're saying about me? Hero. It's bullshit."
"But it's not. You-"
"Stepped up to the plate, once the plate was practically thrown at me. I did what anybody else would've done, but only because Desmond looked me in the eyes and told me it needed doing and if I did it, it would matter. For once in my goddamned life."
Boone just stared at him.
"Jesus Christ," Charlie said. "Come here." As Charlie stood up and settled himself in Boone's lap, straddling his thighs, he grabbed him by the wrist. The fire crackled behind him, and he felt this kind of adrenaline he didn't usually feel anymore. Maybe the last time had been when Marshal Ed took him cliff diving.
Charlie pulled Boone's hand up and pressed it to his heart, just where it had been before, that day he was sure ghosts were real. "Feel this. No, don't just feel. Listen. I give you permission, you twit. There isn't a bloody thing in my head that I don't mind you knowing. But I think you should pay attention to the kind of women I've always been attracted to, including your fucking step-sister."
It was weird. He found himself trying to concentrate on particular memories, but all that kept going through his head was how pink Boone's lips were, how good he smelled, how he kind of liked how nervous he was, how warm his skin was under his hands.
Boone shifted, finally, and drew him into a long, insistent kiss. It was better than anything Charlie could ever remember remembering.
As he pulled back, Charlie felt a flood of warmth come over his body, laying down soft over an arousal that spiked up into his chest and made him feel tight and alive. Almost. It was maybe better than being alive, because he had no doubt about what was going through Boone's head.
Still, Charlie groused: "About fucking time. I think I'd been feeling your crazy ass hovering over me for a long time before I died. No wonder was so bleeding tense."
"Sorry."
"Shit. No. It's fine. I think I've also been weirdly calm at- Fuck, you were down there when I…? Weren't you?"
Boone stared at him for a long time, then he finally nodded, quick and solemn.
"Jesus," Charlie said.
"Sorry. Is that…?"
"Weird? Yeah. But nice, too, I think. Like this is nice."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Are you always so scared to make a move?"
"Actually, no," Boone said with a chuckle, pressing his face against his throat. "I never was. I wouldn't have been, if we were both alive."
"So why now?"
"I don't know what I'm doing here, and it…"
"What?" Charlie drew back to look at him.
"I'm scared. Not about you. You're not scary at all. It's this deal with the island."
"I thought you said you felt like you have a purpose."
"I do. That's what's scary. And knowing I might be stuck here indefinitely until somebody else makes a sacrifice… You know, I was the most scared it would be you and we'd miss each other."
"I wasn't a sacrifice."
"No." He turned his head away. "I'm really, really afraid you were a gift."
"No," Charlie said, taking his head in his hands and turning it back. "No. Whatever happened to me was bigger than your sodding island. And I chose it of my own free will."
"Okay."
"Boone, whatever it was, I'm here in the between life, stuck too. And it's no more fair than it was when you crossed, all because you were stupid enough to believe John had the answers."
"Maybe he does."
"Maybe. Maybe you're here for a reason. Maybe I am, too. What I wanna know is what the fuck your problem is? I come here and you're telling me you love me, then you're acting like you're scared of me."
"Not of you. Of getting too close and having you leave."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
Charlie took a deep breath, but just as the gravity of Boone's admission began to hit him-he was only now starting to really listen to Boone's heart and mind as well as his words-suddenly a weird combination of infinite patience with this strange universe and infinite lack of patience with wasting time in it surged through him and he said:
"Well, wouldn't you rather have me than not have me?"
Boone smiled softly. "I guess."
"Fucking hell, Boone."
"No-fucking hell, you." Boone pushed him up and off him. As Charlie fell back into the place he's been in before, Boone rose nervously and stared down at him. "You're straight, remember?" he said with an emphatic gesture. "You're the one running all over the island to get away from me. How in hell should I have known that all it takes to get in your pants is to just manhandle you a little? And why should I think that's what you actually want?"
"Did your step-sister bother to tell you how she ended up talking to me about you? I accidentally called her from across the whole fucking island, just because I was thinking about whether you were in love with her or she was in love with you."
"I know that," he said, turning his back on him to watch Jack and Sawyer over the fire. "So."
"So? I was thinking about you without even knowing it. Who knows how long I've been doing that. And when I came back and saw you with Carmen the other day, I forgot for a minute that we can't die, because I sure as hell wanted to strangle her just for talking to you."
Boone turned back and gave him a quick, sly grin. Hot as hell. "I knew you were the jealous type," he said.
"Well, get used to it. As long as I'm here, you're a one-man man. Got that?"
As Boone came and sat back down, he said, "Bossy, too."
"You like bossy."
"I do. But you're straight."
"If you say that one more time, I'll…"
"Frown at me?"
"Shut up."
"I'm serious, Charlie. I don't wanna pressure you into anything."
"That's it," he said. "That's it. Right now. You and me. I'm going to throw you on the ground right here and grope you within an inch of your life, or at least until you're convinced I do want you." Charlie scooted off his seat and onto the sand, reaching for his hand, which Boone willingly offered.
"Okay," Boone said.
"Okay?" Charlie groused, pulling him down to the ground on top of him. "I'm about to show you okay, you fucking chicken."
In the end, it was Charlie who got shown. Boone gave him the best blowjob of any state of his life, and Charlie was, thankfully, not to at all bothered by this new dimension to his sexuality. He vaguely wondered if maybe his normal straightness was overcome by how much easier sex was with this ESP thing, but he decided he didn't actually care. All that mattered was he knew he would be able to suck Boone's cock and make it pretty good. He knew like he knew a lot of things he shouldn't know.
The more important thing, something he wouldn't have told Boone, only he had to since there were no secrets on Craphole Island, not even between them anymore: he now felt like he had the ability to stay in the long goodbye as long as he damn well wanted. Longer, anyway, than he strictly needed to. Long enough, hopefully, to help Boone find a purpose for his possibly permanent in-between.
That is, a purpose apart from scaring the piss out of John Locke and Roger's kid. Oh, yes-this was going to be a long goodbye indeed.
~