Fanfiction: When The Sand Runs Out 2/2
Title: When The Sand Runs Out
Part: 2/2 (Charlie POV)
Genre: angst, tragedy, fluff
Rating/warnings: PG-13, character death and mature themes
Spoilers: a death from 3x06
Summary: Charlie regrets his decision to not go on the hike to find Eko when the team returns without the holy man and they confirm his worst fears.
Disclaimer: Lost doesn’t belong to me and neither does Rascal Flatts, whose song I have stolen the lyrics to in the cut and for the title of this fic.
Dedication: to all of you who read and review - and especially those who concrit me! And to all my fanfiction writing buddies - you’re all in deservance of a very big, very shiny gold star.
Authors Note: Don't worry! It might look really angsty now but it has a happy ending! I promise!
PART ONE
~*~
Since the hatch had exploded - for whatever reason - Charlie had not yet brought himself to spend the night with Claire and he was still sleeping in the flimsy shelter he had made for himself when she hadn’t been speaking to him. She had dropped a few hints that he was welcome to move back in but he was tentative in doing so although he wasn’t entirely sure why.
Knowing his luck, somebody else would take over his shelter and then, next thing he could be out on his own again. Not that he thought that Claire was going to kick him out again - she had no reason to at present and their relationship seemed to be going nowhere but up.
Which is why he was - understandably he thought - slightly paranoid about moving back in with her so to speak. The memory of Claire’s uncanny past ability to swing her emotions from fondness to anger within a day wasn’t helping convince him either.
For once it was Charlie, not Claire who didn’t completely trust in their relationship.
His shelter seemed even more depressingly dilapidated tonight, the tarpaulin was drooping particularly low in one corner but he couldn’t be bothered fixing it. His guitar wasn’t being very co-operative either - refusing to tune itself in for him enough to play even one song. After five minutes of fiddling with the pegs he gave up and cast it aside, snapping the case closed and resting his face against his knees.
Eko was dead.
The thought made him tremble all over again - even though the sobs that had nearly made him ill before had subsided long ago. The very thought seemed alien to him, let alone the concept that it was true. It was completely impossible. Eko? Dead? How the hell could this have happened?
Charlie had seen a lot of strange things since he had crash landed on an island in the middle of nowhere. Even when he’d been well into the drugs he hadn’t seen nearly as much crazy shit as he had here in the past two and a half months. He hadn’t done nearly half as much weird shit back in the real world - and that was saying something.
This entire island defied normal logic.
Eko was dead.
Mr Eko - was dead.
Sodding bloody hell.
Charlie sat up and wiped a hand over his face, surprised when it came away sopping wet. Apparently his tear ducts had been going for a while without him even realising. Letting out a shaky breath, he curled up on the cushions he used as a bed and wrapped his arms around his stomach, praying for sleep to take him quickly. His brain however, had different plans and was buzzing around like it was high on twenty cups of coffee.
His face still felt wet, fresh tears turning cold on his cheeks when he finally dared to touch his face an indeterminate time later. Opening his eyes he saw that the sky had finally darkened - well he must have been lying here for a fair while then.
He shut his eyes again, one hand reaching to his neck and gripping Eko’s cross in a tight fist. The feel of the metal, cool against his hand made him go shaky again and he brought his hand to his mouth, trying to stifle the sobs that were threatening him again.
Charlie hadn’t grieved like this since his mother had died nearly two years ago, when he had been on tour with Driveshaft. At least then he’d had his drugs to help him cope with the pain - the suddenness of this death felt surprisingly raw in comparison to her long, drawn out struggle with cancer.
The tears started again.
He must have dozed off at some point because the next thing he was conscious of was the sound of someone padding through the sand towards him. He listened carefully to their footfalls in the sand but for the life of him couldn’t distinguish who it was between the sound of the wind and the crashing of the waves. He opened his eyes the barest fraction and saw a sideways view of a single pair of bare feet and knew instantly who it was.
His visitor knelt down and placed a soft hand on his shoulder. Charlie squeezed his eyes shut as tight as they would go.
Please don’t stay. Please don’t lie down with me and try to comfort me because I’m going to lose it if you do…
‘I know you’re awake.’ The visitor said softly, her voice almost lost in the night soundtrack surrounding them. ‘So don’t try to pretend like you’re not.’
Charlie didn’t answer and his visitor touched his face, pressing gentle lips against his eyelids, the sensitive skin inflamed from all the salt.
‘You aren’t okay. Are you?’
Charlie shook his head, holding himself together - but just barely - as Claire lay down beside him and wrapped her arms around him. When he finally dared open his eyes it was to find her nose to nose with him and his tears surprisingly quiet.
‘Where’s Aaron?’
Claire kissed him gently before answering. ‘I asked Sun to watch him - just for tonight. I think you need me more than he does right now.’
‘But what if something happens to him?’ Charlie instantly began to panic. ‘What if something happens and Sun doesn’t know what to do?’
‘Then she’ll bring him back to me,’ Claire said, supremely calm. ‘You need me more than he does tonight.’
Charlie swallowed nervously. ‘You shouldn’t compromise Aaron for me.’
Claire frowned at him. ‘Charlie, I just told you that he doesn’t need me right now.’
‘If he does need you…’
‘Then Sun will bring him to me,’ Claire said, a strong tone of finality in her voice that Charlie could no more argue with than fly to the moon. ‘Now please stop arguing with me Charlie and try to sleep.’
The two of them fell silent.
Five minutes later Claire opened her eyes to find Charlie staring blankly ahead, his eyes sparkling with fresh, unshed tears.
‘I’m sorry,’ he apologised. ‘I just…I’m not used to sleeping with somebody else.’
Claire looked suitably upset at this but tried to hide her disappointment. ‘Would you rather I go?’
‘No.’ he said quickly then added, a little slower. ‘Please, stay.’
She readjusted herself more comfortably, pressing her face into his neck and Charlie finally moved to put his arms around her, his left hand resting lightly on her lower back.
‘Night Charlie.’
‘Night,’ he returned.
~*~
The sun rose early on the new day and Charlie was up with it. Having had less than four hours of restless sleep hadn’t agreed with him - the dark circles under his eyes were a testament to that - but at least it had given him adrenaline enough to go on a short hike.
‘Desmond - I need you to take me to where Eko was buried.’
The Scottish man was barely awake and fairly grumpy at being woken up when Charlie dragged him off to the jungle. As quickly as they filled up their drink bottles however, they still weren’t quick enough to beat Claire who confronted Charlie at the tree line, Aaron tucked into the Bjorn and a bag strapped to her back to balance out the weight.
‘You’re not going to Eko’s grave without Aaron and me,’ she said, prodding him hard in the chest. ‘And don’t you dare start lecturing me about taking Aaron into the jungle because I swear to God I will hit you.’
Charlie didn’t say a word, simply offered Claire his hand and she took it with a firm grasp that could have been mistaken for affection if the circumstances had been different.
There was no talking as the three of them meandered through the jungle, Charlie holding Claire’s hand most of the way whilst Desmond lead, putting his inexpert tracking skills together with his own memories to find the way back. It took nearly two hours to reach their destination and by that time, Aaron had begun to fuss terribly and Claire had to nurse him in the relative privacy of the trees whilst Charlie and Desmond waited impatiently for her.
‘Sorry,’ she apologised, her cheeks colouring as she came back, taking Charlie’s hand again. He squeezed it gratefully - thankful for the small comfort it offered.
‘We almost there yet mate?’ Charlie asked.
‘Yeah,’ Desmond pointed through the trees. ‘It’s just through there. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get us back to the beach again but at least we got here alright eh?’
Charlie strode forwards and within seconds had the clearing in sight. The early sunlight was streaming down onto the crude grave through the trees, much like light coming in through stained glass windows in a church. Charlie nearly choked at the irony but managed to find his voice again. ‘You never told us why John and Sayid never came back yesterday.’
Desmond shrugged as he walked. ‘Box man went a bit weird - I think he read something on the scripture stick, meant something to him - and he went off into the jungle and Sayid followed.’
‘Box man?’ Claire asked as they broke the cover of the trees.
Desmond grinned at her as Charlie detached himself from Claire and walked slowly to the grave. ‘It’s what I call John. He used to work in a box factory - back in the real world.’
Claire looked honestly surprised. ‘A box factory? I would have thought he’d have been a… well anything other than a box maker.’
‘I’d’ve said taxidermist myself,’ Charlie called back over his shoulder mildly as he squatted down next to the grave and touched the rocks that the others had laid over the top of the disturbed soil.
Claire came over quietly and joined him whilst Desmond hovered awkwardly behind them.
‘I’ll leave you two to say your goodbyes yeah?’
‘Thank you,’ Charlie murmured, his hand still worrying one of the rocks as his eyes roamed over the grave. ‘They used his scripture stick as a grave marker.’
Claire was silent as Charlie slowly shifted his weight and sat down next to the grave, his legs crossed. She simply stood, Aaron quite silent in her arms. Charlie jumped when she began to speak.
‘I feel pretty stupid talking to a pile of rocks but… knowing that you’re down there somewhere helps a little bit.
‘I just really wanted to say thank you for everything you did for me - it may not have seemed like a lot at the time but I do appreciate everything. Thank you for baptising my son and for baptising me. I know that if anything happens to us now, wherever we end up, we’ll be together. And that’s a comforting thought even if the prospect of dying here, on this island, like you did is a scary one.
‘Thank you for taking care of Charlie for me when I needed my space. I never told anyone but I was glad that he had someone looking out for him. I know that you two got close, building the church and all, and I know that he’ll miss you - probably a lot more than anyone else will.
‘Rest in peace, Eko.’
A long silence fell over the assembled and finally, Claire knelt down next to Charlie carefully.
‘Are you going to say anything?’
Charlie nodded, his face still and impassive, his eyes fixed on the grave. ‘Yeah I will but…I think I need to just need to sit here for a while - with him.’
Beside him, Claire lowered her eyes and nodded. ‘How long will you need?’ Charlie saw her glance back up to the side of his face again in his peripheral vision, a quizzical expression on her face.
Charlie shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’ Aaron warbled suddenly from within the Bjorn and he turned to Claire. ‘You should take Aaron back to the beach. I may be here a while yet and he’ll need a feed and a nap soon.’
Claire’s face creased. ‘I’m not leaving you out here all alone!’ She said hotly. ‘What if you get lost on the way home? What if you get hurt? What if…’ she trailed off and then added, quietly but firmly, ‘We’re not going back to camp without you.’
‘Claire,’ Charlie sighed and took one of her hands in his. ‘You’ve done more than enough for me. I just need some time alone now - just to wrap my brain around all of this. To pray that Eko gets up to heaven okay, to let him know that I’m going to finish the church for him, even if it takes me the next twenty bloody years...’
Claire burst into tears at this last statement and Charlie wrapped his arms around her neck, pulling her close to him as his own tears started up again for the millionth time.
Death had a strange habit, he had noticed, of either bringing people a lot closer together or an infinite distance apart. In this particular case, it had brought him and Claire crashing back together again to the point where he almost felt brave enough to suggest moving his things back into her tent when he returned to the beach.
Almost.
‘You need to look after your son,’ he murmured, drawing away to look her in the face. ‘You’ve done everything for me I could possibly ask for and now I’m asking you to just give me this chance to say my goodbyes in my own way, on my own terms.’
Claire sniffed loudly, and finally nodded, wiping at her cheeks with the heel of her palm. ‘If you aren’t back at the camp by this afternoon I’ll be out here to get you and drag you home.’
Charlie grinned. ‘I know. Don’t worry - I’ll be back by then.’
Once Claire had explained the situation to Desmond she returned to the edge of the clearing. Charlie was still sitting next to the grave but he turned when she called his name.
‘We’re going now,’ she called out to him and waved one of Aaron’s arms at him. ‘Say bye Aaron.’
‘See you Turnip-head,’ Charlie waved back and smiled properly for the first time since the day before. ‘Take care of your mum for me.’
Claire smiled at the old nickname and then sobered. ‘Don’t stay out here too long Charlie.’
Charlie nodded at her. ‘Yeah. I know.’
Claire nodded back and went to leave, hesitated and turned back to him. Charlie watched silently as she bit her lip, clearly wanting to say something but seemingly unable to.
Finally, she gave in and mouthed something to him.
Charlie frowned. ‘Sorry, what?’
Claire bit her lip even more violently before calling softly out to him, across the clearing.
‘Love you.’
Charlie’s mouth fell open as Claire flashed him a final, rueful smile and turned swiftly to disappear into the jungle.
Charlie stayed at the grave until the sun was at its zenith and then he finally stood, brushed the dirt off his jeans and began to make his way home.
~*~
The camp was quiet in the late afternoon when Charlie found his way back and made his way immediately to Claire’s tent, his stride purposeful. She was sitting down rocking Aaron’s cradle when he walked up but at the sound of his footfalls she automatically looked up and a wide smile crossed her face. A second later it faltered when she obviously realised that he was walking quickly for a reason that may or may not have been good.
‘Charlie?’ she said, rising cautiously to her feet as he strode right inside her shelter and swerved around Aaron’s crib to reach her. ‘What’s wrong?’
In answer, Charlie pulled her fully to her feet and then, without any warning, swung her into a dip and kissed her deeply. Claire went totally limp, pliant in his arms - it literally felt like she was melting into his embrace - her hands tangled limply around his neck.
When he finally broke the kiss, Charlie’s lips lingered over hers as he spoke. ‘I’ve always wanted to do that to a girl,’ he admitted breathlessly and brought Claire upright again. ‘But I was always terrified that I’d drop them on their head.’
Claire stared at Charlie, her mouth slightly agape. ‘I think,’ she managed to say in a tiny voice. ‘…I think my knees just dissolved.’
Charlie’s face split into a wide grin. ‘Nice to know I’ve still got the charm thing down pat then.’
Claire laughed quietly and then rested her hands on either side of his face tentatively.
‘Are you okay?’
Charlie nodded, his grin fading into a much smaller smile. ‘Yeah. Said my goodbyes, felt a whole lot better.’ He continued to speak, his voice tumbling over the words quickly to reach the conclusion of his speech all the quicker. ‘Did a bit of praying, a bit of crying - finished off my yearly quota of tears while I was at it. I don’t think I’m…quite over it all yet - grieving is a bloody messy process, I’ll probably end up crying my eyes out again over him at some point in the near distant future but I’m okay for now. And,’ he said, clearly enjoying what he was about to say. ‘I thought I’d better come back and tell you - that I love you too.’
Claire’s cheeks coloured instantly and she averted her eyes. ‘So you did hear me then?’
Charlie nodded, trying not to grin. ‘Yep.’
‘I wasn’t sure how you’d react,’ Claire murmured, her eyes flickering from a point somewhere over Charlie’s shoulder and then back to his eyes. ‘That’s why I kind of…ran off after I said it.’
Charlie leant forward, very slowly, very deliberately, and kissed her softly.
‘You don’t need to run away Claire,’ he whispered, pulling back just enough to speak, his lips still brushing hers with every word. ‘You don’t have to be scared of loving me.’
Claire smiled against his lips and the sensation made him smile too.
‘I’m not scared of loving you Charlie. Not anymore.’
Part: 2/2 (Charlie POV)
Genre: angst, tragedy, fluff
Rating/warnings: PG-13, character death and mature themes
Spoilers: a death from 3x06
Summary: Charlie regrets his decision to not go on the hike to find Eko when the team returns without the holy man and they confirm his worst fears.
Disclaimer: Lost doesn’t belong to me and neither does Rascal Flatts, whose song I have stolen the lyrics to in the cut and for the title of this fic.
Dedication: to all of you who read and review - and especially those who concrit me! And to all my fanfiction writing buddies - you’re all in deservance of a very big, very shiny gold star.
Authors Note: Don't worry! It might look really angsty now but it has a happy ending! I promise!
PART ONE
~*~
Since the hatch had exploded - for whatever reason - Charlie had not yet brought himself to spend the night with Claire and he was still sleeping in the flimsy shelter he had made for himself when she hadn’t been speaking to him. She had dropped a few hints that he was welcome to move back in but he was tentative in doing so although he wasn’t entirely sure why.
Knowing his luck, somebody else would take over his shelter and then, next thing he could be out on his own again. Not that he thought that Claire was going to kick him out again - she had no reason to at present and their relationship seemed to be going nowhere but up.
Which is why he was - understandably he thought - slightly paranoid about moving back in with her so to speak. The memory of Claire’s uncanny past ability to swing her emotions from fondness to anger within a day wasn’t helping convince him either.
For once it was Charlie, not Claire who didn’t completely trust in their relationship.
His shelter seemed even more depressingly dilapidated tonight, the tarpaulin was drooping particularly low in one corner but he couldn’t be bothered fixing it. His guitar wasn’t being very co-operative either - refusing to tune itself in for him enough to play even one song. After five minutes of fiddling with the pegs he gave up and cast it aside, snapping the case closed and resting his face against his knees.
Eko was dead.
The thought made him tremble all over again - even though the sobs that had nearly made him ill before had subsided long ago. The very thought seemed alien to him, let alone the concept that it was true. It was completely impossible. Eko? Dead? How the hell could this have happened?
Charlie had seen a lot of strange things since he had crash landed on an island in the middle of nowhere. Even when he’d been well into the drugs he hadn’t seen nearly as much crazy shit as he had here in the past two and a half months. He hadn’t done nearly half as much weird shit back in the real world - and that was saying something.
This entire island defied normal logic.
Eko was dead.
Mr Eko - was dead.
Sodding bloody hell.
Charlie sat up and wiped a hand over his face, surprised when it came away sopping wet. Apparently his tear ducts had been going for a while without him even realising. Letting out a shaky breath, he curled up on the cushions he used as a bed and wrapped his arms around his stomach, praying for sleep to take him quickly. His brain however, had different plans and was buzzing around like it was high on twenty cups of coffee.
His face still felt wet, fresh tears turning cold on his cheeks when he finally dared to touch his face an indeterminate time later. Opening his eyes he saw that the sky had finally darkened - well he must have been lying here for a fair while then.
He shut his eyes again, one hand reaching to his neck and gripping Eko’s cross in a tight fist. The feel of the metal, cool against his hand made him go shaky again and he brought his hand to his mouth, trying to stifle the sobs that were threatening him again.
Charlie hadn’t grieved like this since his mother had died nearly two years ago, when he had been on tour with Driveshaft. At least then he’d had his drugs to help him cope with the pain - the suddenness of this death felt surprisingly raw in comparison to her long, drawn out struggle with cancer.
The tears started again.
He must have dozed off at some point because the next thing he was conscious of was the sound of someone padding through the sand towards him. He listened carefully to their footfalls in the sand but for the life of him couldn’t distinguish who it was between the sound of the wind and the crashing of the waves. He opened his eyes the barest fraction and saw a sideways view of a single pair of bare feet and knew instantly who it was.
His visitor knelt down and placed a soft hand on his shoulder. Charlie squeezed his eyes shut as tight as they would go.
Please don’t stay. Please don’t lie down with me and try to comfort me because I’m going to lose it if you do…
‘I know you’re awake.’ The visitor said softly, her voice almost lost in the night soundtrack surrounding them. ‘So don’t try to pretend like you’re not.’
Charlie didn’t answer and his visitor touched his face, pressing gentle lips against his eyelids, the sensitive skin inflamed from all the salt.
‘You aren’t okay. Are you?’
Charlie shook his head, holding himself together - but just barely - as Claire lay down beside him and wrapped her arms around him. When he finally dared open his eyes it was to find her nose to nose with him and his tears surprisingly quiet.
‘Where’s Aaron?’
Claire kissed him gently before answering. ‘I asked Sun to watch him - just for tonight. I think you need me more than he does right now.’
‘But what if something happens to him?’ Charlie instantly began to panic. ‘What if something happens and Sun doesn’t know what to do?’
‘Then she’ll bring him back to me,’ Claire said, supremely calm. ‘You need me more than he does tonight.’
Charlie swallowed nervously. ‘You shouldn’t compromise Aaron for me.’
Claire frowned at him. ‘Charlie, I just told you that he doesn’t need me right now.’
‘If he does need you…’
‘Then Sun will bring him to me,’ Claire said, a strong tone of finality in her voice that Charlie could no more argue with than fly to the moon. ‘Now please stop arguing with me Charlie and try to sleep.’
The two of them fell silent.
Five minutes later Claire opened her eyes to find Charlie staring blankly ahead, his eyes sparkling with fresh, unshed tears.
‘I’m sorry,’ he apologised. ‘I just…I’m not used to sleeping with somebody else.’
Claire looked suitably upset at this but tried to hide her disappointment. ‘Would you rather I go?’
‘No.’ he said quickly then added, a little slower. ‘Please, stay.’
She readjusted herself more comfortably, pressing her face into his neck and Charlie finally moved to put his arms around her, his left hand resting lightly on her lower back.
‘Night Charlie.’
‘Night,’ he returned.
~*~
The sun rose early on the new day and Charlie was up with it. Having had less than four hours of restless sleep hadn’t agreed with him - the dark circles under his eyes were a testament to that - but at least it had given him adrenaline enough to go on a short hike.
‘Desmond - I need you to take me to where Eko was buried.’
The Scottish man was barely awake and fairly grumpy at being woken up when Charlie dragged him off to the jungle. As quickly as they filled up their drink bottles however, they still weren’t quick enough to beat Claire who confronted Charlie at the tree line, Aaron tucked into the Bjorn and a bag strapped to her back to balance out the weight.
‘You’re not going to Eko’s grave without Aaron and me,’ she said, prodding him hard in the chest. ‘And don’t you dare start lecturing me about taking Aaron into the jungle because I swear to God I will hit you.’
Charlie didn’t say a word, simply offered Claire his hand and she took it with a firm grasp that could have been mistaken for affection if the circumstances had been different.
There was no talking as the three of them meandered through the jungle, Charlie holding Claire’s hand most of the way whilst Desmond lead, putting his inexpert tracking skills together with his own memories to find the way back. It took nearly two hours to reach their destination and by that time, Aaron had begun to fuss terribly and Claire had to nurse him in the relative privacy of the trees whilst Charlie and Desmond waited impatiently for her.
‘Sorry,’ she apologised, her cheeks colouring as she came back, taking Charlie’s hand again. He squeezed it gratefully - thankful for the small comfort it offered.
‘We almost there yet mate?’ Charlie asked.
‘Yeah,’ Desmond pointed through the trees. ‘It’s just through there. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get us back to the beach again but at least we got here alright eh?’
Charlie strode forwards and within seconds had the clearing in sight. The early sunlight was streaming down onto the crude grave through the trees, much like light coming in through stained glass windows in a church. Charlie nearly choked at the irony but managed to find his voice again. ‘You never told us why John and Sayid never came back yesterday.’
Desmond shrugged as he walked. ‘Box man went a bit weird - I think he read something on the scripture stick, meant something to him - and he went off into the jungle and Sayid followed.’
‘Box man?’ Claire asked as they broke the cover of the trees.
Desmond grinned at her as Charlie detached himself from Claire and walked slowly to the grave. ‘It’s what I call John. He used to work in a box factory - back in the real world.’
Claire looked honestly surprised. ‘A box factory? I would have thought he’d have been a… well anything other than a box maker.’
‘I’d’ve said taxidermist myself,’ Charlie called back over his shoulder mildly as he squatted down next to the grave and touched the rocks that the others had laid over the top of the disturbed soil.
Claire came over quietly and joined him whilst Desmond hovered awkwardly behind them.
‘I’ll leave you two to say your goodbyes yeah?’
‘Thank you,’ Charlie murmured, his hand still worrying one of the rocks as his eyes roamed over the grave. ‘They used his scripture stick as a grave marker.’
Claire was silent as Charlie slowly shifted his weight and sat down next to the grave, his legs crossed. She simply stood, Aaron quite silent in her arms. Charlie jumped when she began to speak.
‘I feel pretty stupid talking to a pile of rocks but… knowing that you’re down there somewhere helps a little bit.
‘I just really wanted to say thank you for everything you did for me - it may not have seemed like a lot at the time but I do appreciate everything. Thank you for baptising my son and for baptising me. I know that if anything happens to us now, wherever we end up, we’ll be together. And that’s a comforting thought even if the prospect of dying here, on this island, like you did is a scary one.
‘Thank you for taking care of Charlie for me when I needed my space. I never told anyone but I was glad that he had someone looking out for him. I know that you two got close, building the church and all, and I know that he’ll miss you - probably a lot more than anyone else will.
‘Rest in peace, Eko.’
A long silence fell over the assembled and finally, Claire knelt down next to Charlie carefully.
‘Are you going to say anything?’
Charlie nodded, his face still and impassive, his eyes fixed on the grave. ‘Yeah I will but…I think I need to just need to sit here for a while - with him.’
Beside him, Claire lowered her eyes and nodded. ‘How long will you need?’ Charlie saw her glance back up to the side of his face again in his peripheral vision, a quizzical expression on her face.
Charlie shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’ Aaron warbled suddenly from within the Bjorn and he turned to Claire. ‘You should take Aaron back to the beach. I may be here a while yet and he’ll need a feed and a nap soon.’
Claire’s face creased. ‘I’m not leaving you out here all alone!’ She said hotly. ‘What if you get lost on the way home? What if you get hurt? What if…’ she trailed off and then added, quietly but firmly, ‘We’re not going back to camp without you.’
‘Claire,’ Charlie sighed and took one of her hands in his. ‘You’ve done more than enough for me. I just need some time alone now - just to wrap my brain around all of this. To pray that Eko gets up to heaven okay, to let him know that I’m going to finish the church for him, even if it takes me the next twenty bloody years...’
Claire burst into tears at this last statement and Charlie wrapped his arms around her neck, pulling her close to him as his own tears started up again for the millionth time.
Death had a strange habit, he had noticed, of either bringing people a lot closer together or an infinite distance apart. In this particular case, it had brought him and Claire crashing back together again to the point where he almost felt brave enough to suggest moving his things back into her tent when he returned to the beach.
Almost.
‘You need to look after your son,’ he murmured, drawing away to look her in the face. ‘You’ve done everything for me I could possibly ask for and now I’m asking you to just give me this chance to say my goodbyes in my own way, on my own terms.’
Claire sniffed loudly, and finally nodded, wiping at her cheeks with the heel of her palm. ‘If you aren’t back at the camp by this afternoon I’ll be out here to get you and drag you home.’
Charlie grinned. ‘I know. Don’t worry - I’ll be back by then.’
Once Claire had explained the situation to Desmond she returned to the edge of the clearing. Charlie was still sitting next to the grave but he turned when she called his name.
‘We’re going now,’ she called out to him and waved one of Aaron’s arms at him. ‘Say bye Aaron.’
‘See you Turnip-head,’ Charlie waved back and smiled properly for the first time since the day before. ‘Take care of your mum for me.’
Claire smiled at the old nickname and then sobered. ‘Don’t stay out here too long Charlie.’
Charlie nodded at her. ‘Yeah. I know.’
Claire nodded back and went to leave, hesitated and turned back to him. Charlie watched silently as she bit her lip, clearly wanting to say something but seemingly unable to.
Finally, she gave in and mouthed something to him.
Charlie frowned. ‘Sorry, what?’
Claire bit her lip even more violently before calling softly out to him, across the clearing.
‘Love you.’
Charlie’s mouth fell open as Claire flashed him a final, rueful smile and turned swiftly to disappear into the jungle.
Charlie stayed at the grave until the sun was at its zenith and then he finally stood, brushed the dirt off his jeans and began to make his way home.
~*~
The camp was quiet in the late afternoon when Charlie found his way back and made his way immediately to Claire’s tent, his stride purposeful. She was sitting down rocking Aaron’s cradle when he walked up but at the sound of his footfalls she automatically looked up and a wide smile crossed her face. A second later it faltered when she obviously realised that he was walking quickly for a reason that may or may not have been good.
‘Charlie?’ she said, rising cautiously to her feet as he strode right inside her shelter and swerved around Aaron’s crib to reach her. ‘What’s wrong?’
In answer, Charlie pulled her fully to her feet and then, without any warning, swung her into a dip and kissed her deeply. Claire went totally limp, pliant in his arms - it literally felt like she was melting into his embrace - her hands tangled limply around his neck.
When he finally broke the kiss, Charlie’s lips lingered over hers as he spoke. ‘I’ve always wanted to do that to a girl,’ he admitted breathlessly and brought Claire upright again. ‘But I was always terrified that I’d drop them on their head.’
Claire stared at Charlie, her mouth slightly agape. ‘I think,’ she managed to say in a tiny voice. ‘…I think my knees just dissolved.’
Charlie’s face split into a wide grin. ‘Nice to know I’ve still got the charm thing down pat then.’
Claire laughed quietly and then rested her hands on either side of his face tentatively.
‘Are you okay?’
Charlie nodded, his grin fading into a much smaller smile. ‘Yeah. Said my goodbyes, felt a whole lot better.’ He continued to speak, his voice tumbling over the words quickly to reach the conclusion of his speech all the quicker. ‘Did a bit of praying, a bit of crying - finished off my yearly quota of tears while I was at it. I don’t think I’m…quite over it all yet - grieving is a bloody messy process, I’ll probably end up crying my eyes out again over him at some point in the near distant future but I’m okay for now. And,’ he said, clearly enjoying what he was about to say. ‘I thought I’d better come back and tell you - that I love you too.’
Claire’s cheeks coloured instantly and she averted her eyes. ‘So you did hear me then?’
Charlie nodded, trying not to grin. ‘Yep.’
‘I wasn’t sure how you’d react,’ Claire murmured, her eyes flickering from a point somewhere over Charlie’s shoulder and then back to his eyes. ‘That’s why I kind of…ran off after I said it.’
Charlie leant forward, very slowly, very deliberately, and kissed her softly.
‘You don’t need to run away Claire,’ he whispered, pulling back just enough to speak, his lips still brushing hers with every word. ‘You don’t have to be scared of loving me.’
Claire smiled against his lips and the sensation made him smile too.
‘I’m not scared of loving you Charlie. Not anymore.’