Lost fanfic: You, Me, And The Baby; chapter 3
Title: You, Me, And The Baby (3/?)
Rating: Just in case, M (16+)
Genre: Angst, humour, romance, H/C
Pairings: Charlie/Ana, Charlie/Claire, Claire/Desmond
Summary: A year after being rescued from the island, Charlie and Ana-Lucia are raising their three month old love child whilst Desmond helps Claire look after a fatherless Aaron. As Charlie struggles with his relationship with Ana, Claire must battle with her feelings towards Desmond, whilst they both try to cover up their long-term love affair that leaves both Ana and Desmond very tired and suspicious…
"Ana?" a soft voice questioned, "Is there something you want to say? Are you having any more troubles?"
She fidgeted in her seat, snapping out of her anxious thoughts. "It's getting worse, doc," Ana mumbled, sitting awkwardly, "I don't know how much more I can take."
Doctor Finley leant forwards and stared at his patient carefully, "Tell me, how are things getting worse?"
"Well they certainly aren't getting better," she moaned with a frown.
"How are things with you and Charlie?"
"Pretty much the same," she shrugged. "Except the arguing has become more frequent, I think."
"And how about little Paige?"
Ana remained quiet.
"Ana-Lucia, in order for these sessions to be useful to you, you need to talk to me. Vent out all the emotions you don't feel comfortable expressing at home. Tell me the things you can't discuss with Charlie, or anyone else. It's why you're here. Are things better with Paige?"
She sat back in the chair and covered her eyes with her hand. "No," she swallowed. "Things are not better with her."
Her counsellor nodded sympathetically, "You know, Ana, postnatal depression is pretty common for women your age to experience." She rolled her eyes and sighed. "And considering your circumstances it's perfectly understandable."
"How is it understandable that I hate the sight of my own child?" she snapped angrily, chewing her bottom lip in frustration.
"No one is saying that."
"I'm saying it," she responded, breathing in shakily. "I can't feed her, I can't change her, I can't hold her, I can't even look at her. What kind of a mother do you call that?"
"You are not the only one who has felt like this. It gets better."
She scorned. "Yeah. I'm sure."
"I think you need to be honest with Charlie about this. I think you and him should come in for one session. Just one, so we can bring all this out in to the open and help you get through it."
"He's not coming in," she muttered hatefully. "He is not hearing about ANY of this."
"I know you're scared, Ana. You've been through so many tragedies, including the loss of your first child. But in the four months you saw me before that crash you improved tremendously."
Ana felt her heart beat faster. If only he knew how wrong he was. She hadn't improved at all. She had him fooled like a gullible child.
"You need to be honest with Charlie. Pretending will get you nowhere and I'm afraid the situation won't get any better for you if you continue in this manner."
She was silent for a beat, leaning forwards so her elbows rested on her knees and she rubbed her hands together anxiously. "You know, he almost got hit by a car the other day. He's fine but," she paused, her gaze drifting off to nothing in particular, "when I heard the news, apart from that damn plane crash, it was probably one of the most frightening moments of my life." She swallowed hard, shaking her head. "I want nothing more then to get rid of him," she laughed ironically, "But him leaving me to look after the baby alone is probably one of my biggest fears," she suddenly frowned. "I can't….do this without him."
"That makes perfect sense, Ana."
"Does it?" she scorned. "Sounds like nonsense to me."
"Look, I know how you feel about Charlie and I understand that the situation you're in has put pressure on you. You're angry, Ana, and in order to ease that pain and anger you're feeling, a serious change needs to be made in your life."
"Have you got a time machine?" she almost spluttered.
He raised his eyebrows. She rolled her eyes. "One session," he repeated. "It's all I'm suggesting. And I'm sure he'll appreciate you asking him to come."
She let out a groan. "Fine. One session. But if I don't want anything discussed with him, it stays strictly between you and me, okay?"
"Absolutely," he insisted,."Anything you don't want him to know stays confidential."
"Terrific," she sighed.
It was nearly 5PM by the time Claire, Desmond and Aaron arrived home. Claire was hugging a sleepy Aaron close to her chest whilst Desmond helped lug in the pram and place it by the door. Claire laughed slightly as Desmond struggled with the damned thing, but eventually managed to put it in its correct place. She smiled as she stroked Aaron's blonde hair and Desmond approached her, dusting off his hands.
"Thank you so much, Des. I had a wonderful time and I know Aaron did too," she beamed, patting the infant's back as he snoozed.
"Not a problem at all, sistah. Happy to do it. And I had a blast an' all," he grinned widely at her before gently running a hand through Aaron's hair. "Wee one's already dropped off to sleep, eh?"
"He's tired out from all the fun," Claire explained, her pink lips forming in to a smile. "I'll put him in his cot. No doubt he'll be waking us up later wanting feeding!"
Desmond chuckled and watched her leave to put the baby to bed. His gaze was still intently fixed on her when she walked back in to the room.
"I'm just going to pop on the laptop and check my emails. Then afterwards I'll make us dinner as a thank you."
"I can make it if you want, it's no problem."
"No, don't be silly!" She pouted humorously. "Sit down, put your feet up and watch some telly. You've done enough already." She placed a soft hand on his shoulder affectionately. He looked down and smiled modestly before watching her leave to enter the study and switch on her laptop.
Claire has just signed in.
Charlie_Pace: Hello, stranger.
Claire: We must stop meeting like this.
Charlie_Pace: How was the zoo?
Claire: It was good.
Charlie_Pace: Good?
Claire: Yeah. Anyway how are you?
Charlie_Pace: Stressy. She's screaming, yelling, and being a real pain in the arse.
Claire: Well that's babies for you.
Charlie_Pace: Baby? I was talking about Ana.
Claire: Oh haha. She would murder you for that.
Charlie_Pace: She'd murder me for a lot of things.
Charlie_Pace: I have a question. How do you change your username on this thing?
Claire: You don't know? Seriously?
Charlie_Pace: Wait. Aha! I think I figured it out.
Charlie: Did it work?
Claire: How original.
Charlie: Bloody machine's playing up again.
Claire: You should be grateful you have a computer.
Charlie: Yes, I know. How often is it we talk on here? Our 'Other Halves' must think we're complete internet addicts.
Claire: Yes, we surf the net instead of finding jobs to feed our families.
Charlie: I have a job!
Claire: You play guitar at a club for tips.
Charlie: And what do you do?
Claire: Touché, Charlie Pace. But I will have a job soon. I don't even care where anymore.
Charlie: Ah, the joys of adulthood. Aren't you glad our lives turned out this way?
Claire: Not really but I'm smart enough to know we can't change the past.
Charlie: If only!
Claire: Indeed.
Charlie: Claire….something really weird just happened.
Claire: What?
Charlie: Ana just asked me to go to her therapy session with her tomorrow…Well I say ask, I mean 'told'.
Claire: That's good…right?
Charlie: Yeah. Maybe I'll find out why she's been acting so strange lately. I don't remember her being like this while she was pregnant. She was bad but this…I don't like it all. If anything I thought things were getting better and then when Paige was born we went straight back to, well, this.
Claire: You've never been to any of her other sessions?
Charlie: Only one. And things were just awkward. We didn't really sort out anything. I usually just leave them to it, you know. He knows her better, they saw each other before the crash.
Claire: Why was she seeing a therapist before the crash?
Charlie: I asked her once but I didn't like the look she gave me so I dropped it. I think it was something serious though.
Claire: Well…good luck. I have to go do boring adult stuff and make the dinner. See you later.
Charlie: I hope it's sooner rather than later. Aren't you coming to the club tonight?
Claire: We'll see about that. Bye.
Charlie: Bye.
"What do you fancy tonight?" Charlie asked, swivelling around in his chair, "Pork chops, or a pasta dish, or maybe even a take-a-way again if we're that lazy."
"Take-a-way?" Ana asked as she folded some clothes in to a laundry basket.
"Like I said last time, I believe you call it a take-out?" He sat back.
"Oh. Fine, I don't care."
"I'll make the call," he sighed, jumping out his seat, "You fed Paige?"
Ana bit her lip and shook her head, "Busy."
"Yeah, yeah. Alright. I'll do it in a minute," he mumbled as he picked up the phone and dialled. "Still think you should reconsider about the breast-feeding."
"As you would say, Charlie: Bugger off," she rolled her eyes, grabbed the basket and disappeared in to the other room.
"So that's still a no then?" he called after her sarcastically before addressing the person on the other end of the line, "Yes, hello. I'd like to make an order."
Ana threw the basket on the floor before sorting her clothes in to her draws. She dreaded tomorrow and her therapy session with Charlie. She never liked to open up to him. The night they slept together and Paige was conceived was perhaps the only time Charlie had seen her so vulnerable. She had never cried much, she wouldn't allow herself to become that weak, as if it were the universe's mission to see her cry and mock her silently because of it. But since then, she had found it hard to stop. No one else knew this of course, except Doctor Finley, but nowadays she cried more often than ever before. And it made her detest herself even more.
She opened up a draw to reveal her old police uniform. She hadn't worn it in years and it was painful to see it folded up so neatly, unused. She liked how she looked in it, and the power it gave her. Power she had occasionally abused, a power she once used to help people with. Now it was just a miserable reminder.
She wandered out in to the corridor where she saw Charlie sitting on the sofa happily with the little baby wrapped up in his arms and a bottle in his hand. She looked so content with him. The scene looked so natural. And she couldn't help thinking how unnatural it would be if she were in that scene, holding Paige. She chewed on her lip and swallowed, listening to Charlie talk softly to the small child. The infant didn't cry once, she didn't even make a sound. And Ana only wished she could have that sort of reaction from her whenever she held her. Nowadays, she just stopped trying. It wasn't natural or right for her. Some women seemed made for motherhood, their children meant everything to them. But Ana couldn't help thinking how easy it would be for her to walk out the front door and never come back. She felt her eyes sting and she glanced down just as Charlie looked up to see her standing there.
"I ordered Chinese. Then I gotta go to work and earn us some much needed cash." He exhaled again and slowly got to his feet, kissing the baby's fluffy brunette head.
She only nodded, avoiding his gaze. "I'm gonna take a shower," she muttered before leaving his sight and vanishing off in to the bathroom.
Claire hummed to the tune of "Catch a Falling Star" as she turned on the stove and danced over to the cupboards. She pulled out a packet of pasta shapes and poured them in to the boiling water.
"Need any help?" Desmond appeared at the door, his shirt hugging his body tightly.
She held her breath when she saw him. "No, I'm good," she smiled politely, pulling her blonde curls away from her face. He leant against the door frame, watching her. "Actually," she began, "Can you pass me the tomato sauce? And the tuna?"
"Can do," he replied, grabbing the jars and handing them over to her. She took them gratefully. "Tuna pasta? Sounds delicious."
"You're good at massages, I'm good at making tuna pasta," she laughed. "They used to make it a lot at the restaurant I worked at back home." She sighed.
"You miss it there? Home, I mean?"
She pondered on it for a moment. Then looked at him with those large blue eyes."Nah. This is my home now. What about you? Miss it in Britain?"
"Well the weather's a lot better here, I'll say that much," he chuckled and she bit her lip, smiling.
"Oh, looks like it's nearly ready," she told him, mixing in the tuna. "There's some veggies too if you want to serve up."
"Smells gorgeous," he commented, collecting the plates.
"Wait until you try it," she winked at him humorously.
Another difficult day was washed from Ana-Lucia's tanned skin as the hot water drenched her body. The steam filled the room and the water was a nice relief as it hit her face. This was her quiet time, her alone time. When she could reflect on the poorness of her life and let loose her frustrations without being judged by anyone else. She thought about what they had discussed today and what she had been through. The arguments, the analysing of her circumstances and fears. The apparent resolution that would magically make everything better. She couldn't talk about those things with Charlie. It was unthinkable. She didn't want his judgements, or his pity.
Loosing her child had been a painful experience. It had hardened her, made her bitter, bitchy. But that was how she had dealt with the situation. It was how she survived. Charlie wouldn't understand that. He was the complete opposite to her. Granted, she noted some similarities, particularly when everyone suspected him of using drugs on the island - that was one of the reasons why she let herself give in to him in the first place - because they had both been loners, and they had nobody else.
And this ridiculous fear? This fear that Charlie would somehow disappear and leave her to look after a child she had no interest in taking care of by herself? She had lived with this fear for months. The thought of him not being here, leaving her to do all those things expected of a mother made her shudder. She wasn't a mother. Charlie was a father AND a mother. Ana was just….there. That wasn't right, was it? She had often wondered what motherhood would have been like with her first baby, and occasionally found herself looking forward to it in her early days of pregnancy. It was a challenge, right? And she had someone she loved there to get through it with her that time. But it wasn't to be.
She feared history would repeat itself. Only, the role of Danny was taken by a washed-out, know-it-all British ex-rock star (who she was ashamed to call the father of her child), and the little baby was actually here. It was real. If Charlie was to be absent from her life, Ana wouldn't know what to do. And she felt like even she would find his absence disconcerting for her own convenience.
God, how had she allowed her life to end up like this?
She felt her face scrunch up and a tear roll down her face, unnoticeable as the warm water streamed down her cheeks. Just as her crying was inaudible due to the sound of the water running. This was her time.
Desmond speared the food with his fork, raising it to his lips and emptying it in to his mouth. Claire watched with anticipation for his approval. He savoured it, felt his tongue familiarise itself with the flavours, and felt his stomach beg for more. He licked the sauce from his lips and nodded with an approving smile. "Claire, this is delicious," he told her, already collecting more of it on to his fork from his plate. "You're a brilliant cook."
She felt herself brighten at the comment and she blushed before helping herself to her own portion. "I suppose it makes a nice change from frozen food and ready meals."
Des nodded again with an "mmm" as his mouth was already full again.
"What kind of food did you eat when you were locked in that hatch?" she asked him curiously, chewing on a small portion of the pasta.
"Nothing as good as this," he laughed, glancing at her pretty face quickly.
She took a sip of her red wine, which she had suggested they have a long with their meal seeing as though they were treating themselves tonight, and she noticed the muscles in his arms move slightly as he ate. She swallowed hard and shook her head to snap herself out of her trance.
"You look lovely tonight," Des commented quickly, though he had been thinking it for a while now. "You changed your clothes?"
She glanced down at her short evening dress and beamed with the flattery. "Thank you. Thought it would go with the mood this evening. I just threw it on while you were helping to serve up," she told him, but in reality had spent minutes upon minutes changing her outfit and choosing which dress showed off her smooth legs and gave her a cleavage. She had no idea why she was trying so hard to impress a man she shouldn't be impressing, then found herself lost in his eyes and questioned why she hadn't tried even harder with her appearance. There was something about him that made her feel as though she should put in an effort.
It was only until they had finished their meal that Claire remembered Charlie would be at the club by now, waiting to meet her after his performance. But Desmond was looking at her now quite expectantly, with those deep brown eyes of his which begged her to stay and continue to gaze in to them. She granted them their wish; it was too late now, and she hadn't made any promises. She wasn't in the mood to lie and sneak around to fulfil her and Charlie's secret desires tonight. She was quite content sitting here with Desmond, eating cheesecake.
"I forgot how delicious cheesecake was," Desmond commented, making conversation.
"It usually is," Claire shrugged. "Don't know what's wrong with this one."
"What do you mean?" he asked, chewing on a particularly mouth-watering piece.
Claire pouted again and poked at the thing with her fork. "It's dry," she complained, "I'm sorry. It looked good in the shop. It's not creamy at all, either. And the base isn't nearly as crumbly enough."
Desmond wrinkled his nose. "Mine's fine. Let me try it."
She raised her fork and he leant over the table to gently sample the piece of unsatisfying cheesecake. He sat back, continued to chew, and expressed a series of different facial expressions. Claire tilted her head slightly and watched with confusion. "Well?"
"Tastes just like mine," he shrugged with a half-smile.
"Well then the whole thing must be off or something," she frowned getting up and grabbing the plates.
"No, no," he insisted, grabbing her arm and at his touch, she instantly froze, "It tastes just fine, Claire. Honestly."
She blushed and sat back down. "If you say so," she smiled saccharinely, and Desmond thought she looked as sweet as the cheesecake.
"Thanks for this," he told her, spontaneously finding his hand on top of hers."I had a great evening. A great day, even. I can't remember the last time I felt like this." There was truth in his words. He knew the only time he had felt these feelings were with Penny, but at that moment he couldn't envisage when or where. It was if she were a pleasant yet painful memory that was beginning to float away and be lost forever. And strangely enough, he found himself not caring.
Her heart beat wildly and it took all her might not to take his large, warm hands and bring them to her pale cheeks or to her wet lips, "It's my pleasure," she told him, "It's the least I could do, after everything you've done for me and Aaron."
Their eyes locked together for what seemed like hours, and Claire had to break away to remind herself she couldn't fall for this man. It was getting and harder and harder to resist those tanned muscles, or dark eyes, or Scottish accent of which she often found herself smiling or giggling at. It had gotten to the point where she was fed up of just looking and wanted to try the Scottish man for herself. To see what he felt like, what he tasted like. And then she often scolded herself for thinking such adulterous thoughts, and her heart reminded her of her love for Charlie. Her sweet Charlie, who would be heartbroken if he were to find out about her lustful obsession for his enemy.
Then she thought of Ana-Lucia and the sickening image of her and Charlie together, and she questioned why she shouldn't hurt Charlie the way he had hurt her.
She cleared her throat, felt her heart ache, and suggested they get on with clearing up the remainder of their dinner.
Charlie's fingers began to sting as he continued to strum his guitar on stage and it didn't help that his head still ached from the accident yesterday. He sung the lyrics with a dry mouth and promised he would get himself a drink or two afterwards. Usually Claire was here by now but he could not see her among the small crowd who sat at their tables and ignored his music by engaging in idle drunken chatter. He sighed inwardly, reflecting on what his career had become. He had ended up right where he started.
He still thought back to the old days, when it was him and the boys. When he and his brother were close friends, and created music for fun. The reaction to their performances had been immense, and he had no doubts when he claimed it was one of the best things he had ever experienced. It was just a shame that it lead to such a dark stage in his life. A nightmare rather than a fulfilled dream.
He understood why Liam hadn't wanted to reunite the band. Having a family was a responsible job, and Charlie could see why he didn't want to get mixed up in all that craziness again. He couldn't imagine juggling his family life with his rock-star lifestyle now. It was unthinkable, and he felt guilty for trying to force Liam to leave his wife and daughter for that reason. Since his return, the boys had made up and straightened out all the issues that had been left lingering between them. That had given Charlie a little more reassurance in approaching the next chapter of his life, with a family of his own to support and care for.
He played one last song before glancing at his watch. 8pm. That's it, he thought with relief, time for a drink. He set down the instrument and climbed off the stage to an almost inaudible and messy applause. He nodded a brief thanks and headed towards the bar before a young woman practically jumped in front of him.
"Oh my God! You're Charlie Pace, aren't you?"
Charlie's face brightened, "Yeah, that's me."
"Can I get your autograph?"
He felt as though a weight had been lifted from him and all his energy came springing back to him. She recognised him! A grin emerged across his face. "Course you can!" She handed him a pen and paper and he began to write his name across it in the black ink. "Are you a fan then?"
"Kind of!" she beamed, "It's just so amazing to be in the same room with you. I saw you on the news and in the papers! I mean, you survived that plane crash with hardly a scratch on you. Amazing!"
Charlie felt his face fall in to a frown at the disappointment. Of course he had been recognised for that once again, and not his musical talents. This woman knew nothing about him, only the fact that he had survived a tragic accident, and she probably cared about nothing else. He forced a polite smile and handed her back the autograph. She thanked him and left him alone again. He dropped his head and sighed before getting that much-needed drink.
"The usual please, Lisa," he told the barmaid before miserably slouching on to one of the barstools. She set a glass in front of him and he downed the contents with ease, the liquid pleasantly slipping down his throat. He looked at the time again. Where was she? He missed her, needed her. He wanted the smell of her blonde hair in his face and the sensation of her soft touch against his skin. Perhaps she was still shaken up from the accident, or she was simply trying to avoid him? He bit down hard on his lip. The thought of Desmond Hume entertaining her all day, looking after her and keeping her company infuriated him and he shuddered at the thought. He ordered another drink.
Desmond and Claire had moved to the kitchen where they sipped the remainder of their wine. Claire leant against the side opposite him, giggling wildly,
"Okay. My turn! I Never had a crush on a teacher at school," she said with a suspicious smirk, refusing to sip her drink for this round. Desmond paused, then sighed, then drank. Claire widened her eyes and smiled widely, "Who?"
"I was 16 and it was my history teacher, Ms Manson," Desmond cringed, shrugging.
The woman wrinkled her nose and leant back. "For some reason when you say 'history teacher', I imagine a 50-something dusty old man who's as boring as hell."
"Well she definitely made history class more interesting," he shrugged again before chuckling. Claire shook her head and laughed with him. Desmond cleared his throat,
"Hmmm, I Never cheated on a test," he stated, holding his drink away from him. Claire bit her lip and guiltily sipped her drink. Desmond pointed at her accusingly. "YOU'VE cheated on a test? I can't believe it."
She rolled her eyes humorously. "Don't tell me you've never even copied a friend's answers so you'd get a higher mark!"
Des shook his head and held his hands up. "Nope. I'm as good as gold."
"We'll see about that," she remarked teasingly. "Now you've had to have this one; my friends always had this problem when we were kids - I've never fantasised about a friend's lover." She watched his expression suddenly become very grave, and she almost gasped. Had she just done that? Had her mind done it deliberately, just to confirm his feelings for her? She sensed something between them and it was obvious he cared for her, but she often wondered whether her feelings were reciprocated in quite the same way.
He stared in to her eyes, almost icily, though he revealed a half-smirk and raised his glass high. "Got me there." He closed his eyes and drank the remainder of the wine.
Her cheeks burned red. How stupid she had been! She silently cursed herself for embarrassing them both and offered Des a brief smile before frowning again and collecting the empty glasses. She took his and avoided his gaze, placing the glass on the counter behind him. He didn't look away from her and she felt his stare as if he had been touching her. She looked up at him slowly and forced that serene smile of hers.
"I better get to bed, Desmond. Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
Instinctively, she found herself standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. She lingered too long and wasn't sure what to do next. She pulled away slowly, finding that her hands had fought their way to his chest. The urge to break her silent vow was more powerful than ever. But at that moment her secret rule wasn't even occurring to her. She could feel his warm breath on her now, and his hot skin felt pleasant against hers. She trembled, closed her eyes, and leant her head forward to feel another pair of lips meet hers.
She felt his mouth upon hers, and he kissed her. Gentle at first. But then he tilted his head the other way and kissed her harder. She felt those warm hands envelope her and squeeze her against him. One of hers disappeared in to his hair, which she ran her hand through madly, while the other hand massaged his firm chest.
At the bar, Charlie frowned and ordered himself another drink.
TBC