Lost fanfic: You, Me, And The Baby; chapter 7
Title: You, Me, And The Baby (7/?)
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…
The stench of chlorine was overpowering as Desmond sat in the lifeguard seat overlooking the swimming pool. He watched the blue water lap against the edges and he sighed, thinking back to his sailing days. The days he spent running away and proving himself a coward when he was trying to be the hero, letting the woman he loved slip through his fingers. He thought about his life now and how he didn't want to make the same mistakes again. If only she knew how I felt, he thought, and if only I knew what was going on in that head of hers.
He was distracted by a yelp and his eyes fell upon a body floating in the water below him. Alarmed, he slid down the small ladder of the chair. "Get out the way!" He yelled before diving in and swimming rapidly towards a woman who was face down in the water, her brunette hair dancing in the waves. He grabbed her and turned her over, making sure her head was above the water.
By the time he had got her safely out of the pool and lying flat on the side, it was clear to see she had stopped breathing. Instinctively, Desmond began CPR while everybody else looked on nervously. His mind concentrated on the chest compressions, pushing all other distracting thoughts and fears out. He willed her to breathe, to open her eyes. She was already so pale, so lifeless. He refused to give up; he tried harder.
Relief swept over him when she opened her eyes and coughed out water. He found that his hand was placed on her shoulder as a comfort while she spluttered, his breathing just as desperate and sudden as hers. "It's okay," he reassured her. "You're fine now." She glanced up at him with pink-circled eyes, shivering uncontrollably. He forced a smile to comfort her, and she smiled back.
A short while later as Desmond was collecting his things from his locker, he was told that someone wanted to see him at the main entrance. For a brief moment, he visualised Claire and Aaron waiting for him with big smiles on their faces. He had to cover up his disappointment upon seeing that it wasn't them. It was a girl. She was smiling somewhat awkwardly and her wet hair was tied back in a short pony tail. It took Des a moment but he identified the girl as the same one he had saved from drowning not long before.
"Hi," she said, extending a hand to shake his. Des smiled and took her hand.
"What's your name?" he asked her.
"Tracy." She let go of his hand and smiled a sweet smile.
"How're you feeling, Tracy?"
"A lot better. I just wanted to thank you. Thank you so much for what you did. It's not very often I'm saved by a handsome stranger."
He chuckled and gave a small shrug. "No problem. All in a day's work. I'm glad you're doing better."
"I don't know what happened," she admitted, her smile loosening. "I guess I hit my head while I was swimming. Stupid, huh?"
"These things happen," he told her with that charming smile of his. "Take care of yourself, yeah?" he squeezed her shoulder gently.
She glanced down and blushed. "Am I jealous of the girl who ends up with you!" she laughed and thanked him once again before heading for the automatic doors.
His polite smile vanished and he sighed to himself miserably. The girl who ends up with me, whoever that'll be. His gaze fell upon the magazine rack by the desk and his eye caught a familiar face. Claire? Walking over to investigate, he could see clearly now Claire's image on the cover of a magazine, her blonde hair flowing in the cool breeze from underneath her hat. And she wasn't alone.
The photo looked as if it were taken from some distance, perhaps across the busy road and zoomed in to capture Charlie leaning in to kiss Claire. His heart sank suddenly. Charlie. He recognised the clothes Claire was wearing and realised this must have been taken the day of the accident. He grabbed the magazine and flicked through the pages.
Page 5. "Lost Lover's Reunion?"
Charlie Pace and Claire Littleton, survivors of Oceanic Flight 815 which crashed tragically on an uninhabited island last year, were pictured earlier this week in the middle of a somewhat steamy reunion. The couple were rescued in December last year and were rumoured to have been involved in a romantic relationship during their struggling survival on the island, despite Mr. Pace's current involvement with a fellow crash survivor, Ana-Lucia Cortez, who was later discovered to be around one month pregnant at the time of rescue. Miss Littleton herself gave birth to her son, Aaron, whilst on the island and is now rumoured to be in a romantic relationship of her own, though the identity of her mystery man remains just that: a mystery. It looked as though a lover's reunion was in the works for these two before an ironic twist of fate in the form of a minor car accident pulled them apart…
Photographs of the car accident were at the bottom of the page. Desmond shoved the magazine back in the rack, and frowned. He knew it. He had refused to believe it at first, instead believing Claire when she insisted she was finished with Charlie. But deep down, he had known it.
He decided to take a detour on the way home.
"Ana, you know I can't prescribe you anything," Doctor Finley told his patient in a serious tone as she paced his office, her screaming baby in a pram by his desk.
She raised a hand to her head and sighed. "Can't you do something for me?" she asked over the baby's crying.
"I can talk to you."
She frowned. "So you haven't got a secret bottle of scotch or something hidden away in that desk of yours?"
The doctor cracked a smile and told her to sit down. Reluctantly she did as he asked. "Why are you really here, Ana? What's happened?"
She exhaled and stared at the baby beside her. A long, painful moment passed before she turned her gaze to the wooden desk and opened her mouth to respond. "Charlie and I had a fight. And it wasn't like the usual, either. It was…it was a big one." She paused and wet her lips before continuing. "I gotta tell you, doc…I don't think he's going to stick around for much longer."
Doctor Finley nodded, frowning. "And you still don't want him to go?"
She bit her tongue. "Yes and no. I guess for the sake of the baby, you know." She shook her head slowly as she watched Paige's face return to normal colour and her crying begin to cease. The doctor studied her for a moment.
"Did you two get a chance to talk after our last meeting?"
She sucked in a short breath. "Well, we argued some more."
"You didn't sort out any issues yet?"
She avoided his gaze. His frown deepened.
"What happened?"
She looked up to the ceiling. "Some things I think should just stay between me and him."
He breathed a sigh through his nose and scratched at his beard before nodding. "If you're sure."
She looked at him. He waited. She muttered a curse word under her breath. "Alright. We slept together."
Again, he nodded. "Is that what you wanted?"
She shrugged.
"Is this the kind of relationship you two want, is what I'm asking, Ana. You've told me a number of times how you both can't seem to get on - do you think going down this road again is going to fix things? Were you just trying to run away from your problems?"
She narrowed her eyes. Then she shook her head. "It was a mistake."
"Why was it a mistake?"
She ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek, hating this. "Because I did it to avoid whatever other problems I had," she mumbled. "Every time - I was running away. Okay? I did it to feel….better about myself. In control."
He leant forwards slightly. "You know what might help? Getting to know one another. I bet you hardly know each other."
"I know him well enough," she scoffed and leant back in her seat.
"I think you should both just take a break from arguing, from parenting, and sit down to ask each other questions."
"Like what?"
"Ask him about his childhood."
"I'd rather not."
"Then tell him about your childhood."
"No way!"
"Just talk about something other than your daughter, or your living conditions, or whatever else you argue about, and for God's sake, keep it out of the bedroom! Alright?"
For a moment she looked somewhat horrified. Then, she shrugged and her mouth formed in to a twisted smile as if to mock his suggestion. The doctor just told her to think about it and she sighed and told him she would, even though she planned to forget about the whole thing as soon as she left.
"Just try it. You might find you have something in common!" he told her, smiling encouragingly.
She laughed inwardly. Not in a million years.
Claire has just signed in.
Claire: You're not offline!
Claire: You're ALWAYS online at this time.
Claire: Have you blocked me or something? We need to talk.
Claire: Fine. Be this way.
Claire: Charlie?
Desmond made his way in to the pub, craving a drink to erase his pain like he had so many times before. But upon entering he spotted an old rival slumped in the corner over the bar, his hand around a glass. For a moment he thought about just leaving, but the dim glimmer in the man's eyes made him curious. He stepped towards him and joined him at the bar.
"I'll have what he's having," he said to the waitress with a charming smile.
Charlie didn't look up from his glass and continued to run a finger around the rim. "You don't want what I'm having," he assured him, his voice low.
Des leant forward and indicated to the half-empty glass. "Something wrong? Everything okay with Ana and the baby?"
Charlie raised his head sleepily and glanced at him. "What do you care?" he said aggressively before raising his glass to his lips.
Des studied the man suspiciously. These symptoms were very familiar indeed. "Are you drunk, brutha?"
"I've told you before," Charlie started, pronouncing his words lazily, "I'm not your sodding brother." He clutched his head in mental agony and hid his face from the world, suddenly feeling a lump in his throat. Yes, this seemed very familiar.
"This isn't the first time is it, Charlie?" his companion asked seriously.
He continued covering his face with his hands, leaning on his elbows and slumping over the counter. "What do you want, Desmond?" he asked, finally looking him in the eye. "You already have everything: Claire, Aaron, even my sodding house! Why don't you leave me alone?"
Looking down guiltily, Desmond took in a deep breath. "I think you need some help."
Charlie stifled a bitter laugh. "Help? And who's gonna help me, huh? You? You'll look out for me, yeah? Like back on that bloody island when you told me I was going to die," he said fiercely. "Remember that, Des? When you told me I wouldn't see my own kid grow up and I probably wouldn't even make it to her birth!"
Desmond was biting his lip now and wishing he had never stepped foot inside this place. He shook his head apologetically, desperately. "I was wrong. I'm sorry. The visions - they were confusing. It's not your fate to die, Charlie. It's to raise Paige, have a family!"
Charlie scorned and looked away. "Yeah, well, that's the problem," he began, pausing to down the contents of his drink. "I've got the wrong family," he glared. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to see if I still have a job."
With that last sentence, Charlie shoved past him and stumbled outside in to the cold. Desmond watched him leave and shook his head with frustration. It looked like nothing he said or did would make the man stop hating him. If he only knew his feelings for the woman he so obviously was still in love with, the secret kiss they had shared - Charlie would probably murder him.
Still, he thought as his drink finally arrived and he tasted the strength of what Charlie had been drinking, he seemed to be on a downward spiral that only one person could stop. He chewed on his lip and frowned. He knew what to do next.
Claire was napping next to Aaron by the television when he got home. Upon hearing the door shut, she sat up sleepily and wiped her eyes. "Desmond?"
Even staring in to those brilliant blue eyes wouldn't make him any happier. Looking at her only made him feel disappointment. "I need to talk to you. I think you should put Aaron in his room."
She seemed worried then, but did as he said and returned with an anxious frown. "What is it?"
He paused and bit his lip, tempted to forget about what he was going to say and just continue with their pretence. Sod Charlie and his feelings for her! But he couldn't. He knew Claire was in love with him, and Charlie loved her. And even through the hatred, Des knew he couldn't stand in the way of that.
"I, uh, saw Charlie at the bar earlier just before his shift."
"Oh?"
"He's not doing so good." He inhaled deeply and wet his lips. "He…he needs you."
Claire swallowed. "What?"
"I know, Claire."
Her frightened eyes gazed in to his. "Know what?"
He shook his head, almost angrily. "Don't…pretend that there's nothing going on between you two. I know there is. Alright?"
Her face reddened and she looked at him in disbelief. "Oh, Des. I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you…" She could feel her heart sinking.
He nodded and let his eyes drop to the floor. "It's alright. I understand. Just…you need to talk some sense in to him, okay? God knows why I want to help him," he scoffed. "Maybe it's because I sort of know how he feels." He knew all too well what it was like to spend most of his days drunk senseless, with only the reminders of his cowardice and uselessness as a companion. To be in love with someone he thought he could never be with... "And," he continued, "I only want you to be happy."
She felt her eyes water, unsure how to respond. In some ways she was glad he knew. But his face…she couldn't look at it any longer. She nodded and forced a sad smile before grabbing her purse and her coat. She was almost at the door when he called over to her again, that solemn smile still on that handsome face.
"Before you go," he paused, his brown eyes locked with hers, "I just think you should know that…I love you..."
Oh, God.
She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. She would never have dreamt of this ever happening. Her hand reached for the door handle as Des offered her a sad smile, and she disappeared out the front door to try and catch her breath.
(TBC)