Maybe, You're Gonna Be The One That Saves Me
Title: Maybe, You're Gonna Be The One That Saves Me
Fandoms: Being Human, Lost.
Characters: Mitchell, Carl, Dan, Ivan, Daisy, Charlie, Liam. Mentions of George, Annie, Nina, Lia, Herrick, Desmond, Hurley, Jack, Claire.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: References to drug addiction and vampirism. Spoilers for S3 of Being Human and for Charlie's centric episodes in Lost.
Summary: Written for the crossovers challenge at 1_million_words. When Mitchell's friends drag him to a DriveSHAFT concert, he has an encounter with Charlie Pace where they share their experiences of cold turkey. Years later, Mitchell encounters Charlie's ghost who attempts to give him hope regarding Lia's prophecy of his death.
Mitchell wondered again why he had let his friends talk him into this concert. Was it just him, or did their song seem to have no other words apart from “you all everybody” sung over and over again? This had been Carl’s lover Dan’s idea (humans, Mitchell thought with disgust). Ivan and Daisy had been happy to go along for the ride, and Mitchell’s objections of “Who the hell ever even heard of DriveSHAFT anyway?” had been overruled.
He often wondered what people found appealing about some of the more modern music in comparison to the music of his day, but this took the piss. It had been mildly entertaining at one point when two of the guys in the band (the two Dan said were brothers) looked like they were about to come to blows - it looked as though one brother was trying to take over the other’s lines or something. But that had resolved itself as far as Mitchell could tell.
“Anyone else clapping because this is finally over?” Mitchell muttered under his breath as DriveSHAFT left the stage, ignoring the dirty looks from Carl and Dan. Suddenly, he felt stifled by the crowd around him, by the atmosphere, by his friends. He had to get out of there, get some air. As Mitchell pushed his way past the crowd, Daisy called out to him about getting something to eat, but he just ignored her. This wasn’t the life he wanted. Sometimes, he wondered where he would be now if Carl hadn’t forced him to get clean over New Year’s. He’d be going off with Daisy and Ivan right now for “something to eat”, waking up in another situation from which Herrick would normally get him out of, but he hadn’t spoken to him in a while. Was the life he was living now really any better?
He turned around to see someone stumbling out of the venue; Mitchell was surprised to see it was the bass player from the band.
“Go on, baby brother, piss off,” came a voice from behind him, which Mitchell realised was that of the lead singer. “I’m the bloody band now, Charlie.”
Mitchell found himself walking over to the bass player. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“We were supposed to walk away.” Charlie stared at Mitchell with unfocused eyes. “That’s the deal we made. Liam promised me. And look at him. Smackhead. Completely off his face back there, wankered. He’s been like this for ages. I’m the one who has to pick up the sodding pieces every time he cocks up. And now look.” Charlie held out a small bag in Mitchell’s direction; Mitchell didn’t have to take it from him to know what it contained. “I always said I’d never touch this stuff. And now look at me. I tried to understand what he saw in it, I was tempted. And now I’m hooked.”
Mitchell immediately flashed back to the time when Herrick had infected him; how he’d been determined initially that he wouldn’t resort to killing anyone, having made the decision to allow Herrick to infect him so as to save his fellow soldiers, and yet it had not been long before he had succumbed to his new-found desire for blood.
“I’ve been there,” Mitchell said. “My Liam was my former friend Herrick. I said all the same things as you once, and I still -“ he hastily caught himself before talking about blood - “used. It took a hell of a lot, but I’m clean now. You might not think it, but you can do it too.”
“How did you do it?” Charlie asked. “If you don’t mind talking about it.”
“My friend Carl and I tried to get clean together.” Mitchell explained. “He was, um, practically tying me to a chair at one point so I wouldn’t go out for a fix. But he and his partner Dan, they both supported me a lot with it, they were always there when I needed help. You should talk to your friends or family, see if they can do the same for you.”
“Only real friends I have are in the sodding band, and they’re the ones I’m trying to find a fix with. My mum’s dead, I daren’t even let my dad know I’m using, I chose the band over my girlfriend and she doesn’t want to know me any more. All I’ve got left is a bunch of crappy hangers-on who wouldn’t want to know me if I couldn’t get them the gear.”
Mitchell thought for a few seconds, then hastily took a pen and paper from his pocket. “Here. My name’s Mitchell, and these are my contact details. If you want to talk, or want any help getting clean, you give me a call. If I can help you, I will.”
Another of the band members poked his head around the door. “Charlie! What are you doing out here, you dickhead? You’re missing the party backstage.”
“You don’t have to go,” Mitchell began, but was himself interrupted by Ivan and Daisy calling his name. “Remember what I said. You ever need any help, you call me.”
Mitchell had to admit that he wasn’t surprised when Charlie never did call him. He’d followed DriveSHAFT’s career after that night, watched as they fell from grace. Eventually, they’d just disappeared off the radar, and Mitchell only ever gave them a thought when Dan and Carl got drunk and started playing their album. Over time, he just stopped thinking about Charlie altogether, until the day when he turned on the news and heard that Charlie was one of the passengers on Flight 815, a plane that had disappeared over the Pacific Ocean. He’d felt guilty when he realised how he hadn’t thought of Charlie in a long while, and even more so when he heard about the rescue of the Oceanic Six and saw on the news that one of the survivors had said that Charlie had survived the initial crash, but had drowned weeks before the rest of them were rescued. Mitchell wondered if he ever had succeeded in getting clean before the crash. Must have been hell for him on that island if he hadn’t.
He wished now that Charlie had called him, asked for help in getting clean. Maybe then he’d never even have been on that flight at all. His brother Liam had spoken to the media, explained that Charlie had been in Australia trying to get him to start the band again, and talked about how he wished he’d managed to persuade Charlie to stay with him and get clean.
Mitchell wished the same thing.
Mitchell made his way slowly towards the place he was still getting used to calling home. Everyone was thrilled to have Annie back, so they hadn’t noticed anything different about him at the moment, but it was only a matter of time before George and Nina noticed something. And how was he supposed to be able to explain that to them? What was he meant to say, “Oh, by the way, someone I killed tells me that I’m gonna be killed by a werewolf, and guess what, it might be one of you two?” He could just see the look on George’s face if he tried starting that conversation.
“Maybe, you’re gonna be the one that saves me...” he faintly heard in the background. Gonna need some of that myself soon, Mitchell thought, then stopped. He was sure he recognised that voice. He ran to where the sound was coming from, then shook his head as he realised he’d been right.
“Charlie bloody Pace.”
Charlie turned around in shock. “Mitchell? What the...? You can see me?”
Mitchell nodded. “Yes, I can see ghosts.” He debated getting into the whole vampire thing, but decided to leave it for now. “So what are you doing here?”
“This is where DriveSHAFT had one of their first proper gigs.” Charlie rolled his eyes. “Seriously, I wish I knew. I thought I knew the reason why I was still here. It wasn’t true, what you all saw on the telly. More of us survived. Some people got left behind on the island, and I had to convince those who’d left, like Hurley and Jack, to go back because they needed them. But they did go back. Hurley’s there now, taking care of the island. They rescued Claire, my girlfriend, and brought her home to her family. I thought my work was done. But I’m still stuck here.”
“In my experience of ghosts, you must still have some unfinished business here,” Mitchell began, only to be interrupted by Charlie frowning and asking “What do you mean, your experience of ghosts?”
“I’m a vampire,” Mitchell sighed. “When I talked to you before about going cold turkey, it wasn’t heroin I was talking about. As for how I know about ghosts, my flatmate Annie is one. My other flatmates, George and Nina, are werewolves. And one of them might be about to kill me.”
“What do you mean?” Charlie asked.
“It’s crazy. There’s this girl, Lia,” Mitchell decided against explaining exactly who that was. “She just told me that the date of my death has been confirmed, and that I’m going to be killed by a werewolf. And that would be the point where you tell me the girl’s crazy and talking out of her arse.”
“I wish I could do that.” Charlie shook his head. “But I can’t. My mate Desmond, from the island, he had lots of visions of my death before it happened, and I said the same thing to Hurley, that I wanted him to tell me I was being a nutter for believing it. But he couldn’t do it, and it turned out he was right. They both were.”
“So how did you deal with it, knowing that?” Mitchell asked.
“Hurley helped me, and Claire.” Charlie explained. “They said that they had hope, and that we’d face it together. You should talk to your friends George and Nina, let them in. Maybe they’ll be able to show you that there’s hope for you, too.”
Mitchell wanted to ask Charlie how he could think that, considering that he was now standing in front of him as a ghost, but decided against it. Who knew, maybe Charlie was right. He and George had helped each other through so much in the past, and this may be one more time when they would do the same.
Fandoms: Being Human, Lost.
Characters: Mitchell, Carl, Dan, Ivan, Daisy, Charlie, Liam. Mentions of George, Annie, Nina, Lia, Herrick, Desmond, Hurley, Jack, Claire.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: References to drug addiction and vampirism. Spoilers for S3 of Being Human and for Charlie's centric episodes in Lost.
Summary: Written for the crossovers challenge at 1_million_words. When Mitchell's friends drag him to a DriveSHAFT concert, he has an encounter with Charlie Pace where they share their experiences of cold turkey. Years later, Mitchell encounters Charlie's ghost who attempts to give him hope regarding Lia's prophecy of his death.
Mitchell wondered again why he had let his friends talk him into this concert. Was it just him, or did their song seem to have no other words apart from “you all everybody” sung over and over again? This had been Carl’s lover Dan’s idea (humans, Mitchell thought with disgust). Ivan and Daisy had been happy to go along for the ride, and Mitchell’s objections of “Who the hell ever even heard of DriveSHAFT anyway?” had been overruled.
He often wondered what people found appealing about some of the more modern music in comparison to the music of his day, but this took the piss. It had been mildly entertaining at one point when two of the guys in the band (the two Dan said were brothers) looked like they were about to come to blows - it looked as though one brother was trying to take over the other’s lines or something. But that had resolved itself as far as Mitchell could tell.
“Anyone else clapping because this is finally over?” Mitchell muttered under his breath as DriveSHAFT left the stage, ignoring the dirty looks from Carl and Dan. Suddenly, he felt stifled by the crowd around him, by the atmosphere, by his friends. He had to get out of there, get some air. As Mitchell pushed his way past the crowd, Daisy called out to him about getting something to eat, but he just ignored her. This wasn’t the life he wanted. Sometimes, he wondered where he would be now if Carl hadn’t forced him to get clean over New Year’s. He’d be going off with Daisy and Ivan right now for “something to eat”, waking up in another situation from which Herrick would normally get him out of, but he hadn’t spoken to him in a while. Was the life he was living now really any better?
He turned around to see someone stumbling out of the venue; Mitchell was surprised to see it was the bass player from the band.
“Go on, baby brother, piss off,” came a voice from behind him, which Mitchell realised was that of the lead singer. “I’m the bloody band now, Charlie.”
Mitchell found himself walking over to the bass player. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“We were supposed to walk away.” Charlie stared at Mitchell with unfocused eyes. “That’s the deal we made. Liam promised me. And look at him. Smackhead. Completely off his face back there, wankered. He’s been like this for ages. I’m the one who has to pick up the sodding pieces every time he cocks up. And now look.” Charlie held out a small bag in Mitchell’s direction; Mitchell didn’t have to take it from him to know what it contained. “I always said I’d never touch this stuff. And now look at me. I tried to understand what he saw in it, I was tempted. And now I’m hooked.”
Mitchell immediately flashed back to the time when Herrick had infected him; how he’d been determined initially that he wouldn’t resort to killing anyone, having made the decision to allow Herrick to infect him so as to save his fellow soldiers, and yet it had not been long before he had succumbed to his new-found desire for blood.
“I’ve been there,” Mitchell said. “My Liam was my former friend Herrick. I said all the same things as you once, and I still -“ he hastily caught himself before talking about blood - “used. It took a hell of a lot, but I’m clean now. You might not think it, but you can do it too.”
“How did you do it?” Charlie asked. “If you don’t mind talking about it.”
“My friend Carl and I tried to get clean together.” Mitchell explained. “He was, um, practically tying me to a chair at one point so I wouldn’t go out for a fix. But he and his partner Dan, they both supported me a lot with it, they were always there when I needed help. You should talk to your friends or family, see if they can do the same for you.”
“Only real friends I have are in the sodding band, and they’re the ones I’m trying to find a fix with. My mum’s dead, I daren’t even let my dad know I’m using, I chose the band over my girlfriend and she doesn’t want to know me any more. All I’ve got left is a bunch of crappy hangers-on who wouldn’t want to know me if I couldn’t get them the gear.”
Mitchell thought for a few seconds, then hastily took a pen and paper from his pocket. “Here. My name’s Mitchell, and these are my contact details. If you want to talk, or want any help getting clean, you give me a call. If I can help you, I will.”
Another of the band members poked his head around the door. “Charlie! What are you doing out here, you dickhead? You’re missing the party backstage.”
“You don’t have to go,” Mitchell began, but was himself interrupted by Ivan and Daisy calling his name. “Remember what I said. You ever need any help, you call me.”
Mitchell had to admit that he wasn’t surprised when Charlie never did call him. He’d followed DriveSHAFT’s career after that night, watched as they fell from grace. Eventually, they’d just disappeared off the radar, and Mitchell only ever gave them a thought when Dan and Carl got drunk and started playing their album. Over time, he just stopped thinking about Charlie altogether, until the day when he turned on the news and heard that Charlie was one of the passengers on Flight 815, a plane that had disappeared over the Pacific Ocean. He’d felt guilty when he realised how he hadn’t thought of Charlie in a long while, and even more so when he heard about the rescue of the Oceanic Six and saw on the news that one of the survivors had said that Charlie had survived the initial crash, but had drowned weeks before the rest of them were rescued. Mitchell wondered if he ever had succeeded in getting clean before the crash. Must have been hell for him on that island if he hadn’t.
He wished now that Charlie had called him, asked for help in getting clean. Maybe then he’d never even have been on that flight at all. His brother Liam had spoken to the media, explained that Charlie had been in Australia trying to get him to start the band again, and talked about how he wished he’d managed to persuade Charlie to stay with him and get clean.
Mitchell wished the same thing.
Mitchell made his way slowly towards the place he was still getting used to calling home. Everyone was thrilled to have Annie back, so they hadn’t noticed anything different about him at the moment, but it was only a matter of time before George and Nina noticed something. And how was he supposed to be able to explain that to them? What was he meant to say, “Oh, by the way, someone I killed tells me that I’m gonna be killed by a werewolf, and guess what, it might be one of you two?” He could just see the look on George’s face if he tried starting that conversation.
“Maybe, you’re gonna be the one that saves me...” he faintly heard in the background. Gonna need some of that myself soon, Mitchell thought, then stopped. He was sure he recognised that voice. He ran to where the sound was coming from, then shook his head as he realised he’d been right.
“Charlie bloody Pace.”
Charlie turned around in shock. “Mitchell? What the...? You can see me?”
Mitchell nodded. “Yes, I can see ghosts.” He debated getting into the whole vampire thing, but decided to leave it for now. “So what are you doing here?”
“This is where DriveSHAFT had one of their first proper gigs.” Charlie rolled his eyes. “Seriously, I wish I knew. I thought I knew the reason why I was still here. It wasn’t true, what you all saw on the telly. More of us survived. Some people got left behind on the island, and I had to convince those who’d left, like Hurley and Jack, to go back because they needed them. But they did go back. Hurley’s there now, taking care of the island. They rescued Claire, my girlfriend, and brought her home to her family. I thought my work was done. But I’m still stuck here.”
“In my experience of ghosts, you must still have some unfinished business here,” Mitchell began, only to be interrupted by Charlie frowning and asking “What do you mean, your experience of ghosts?”
“I’m a vampire,” Mitchell sighed. “When I talked to you before about going cold turkey, it wasn’t heroin I was talking about. As for how I know about ghosts, my flatmate Annie is one. My other flatmates, George and Nina, are werewolves. And one of them might be about to kill me.”
“What do you mean?” Charlie asked.
“It’s crazy. There’s this girl, Lia,” Mitchell decided against explaining exactly who that was. “She just told me that the date of my death has been confirmed, and that I’m going to be killed by a werewolf. And that would be the point where you tell me the girl’s crazy and talking out of her arse.”
“I wish I could do that.” Charlie shook his head. “But I can’t. My mate Desmond, from the island, he had lots of visions of my death before it happened, and I said the same thing to Hurley, that I wanted him to tell me I was being a nutter for believing it. But he couldn’t do it, and it turned out he was right. They both were.”
“So how did you deal with it, knowing that?” Mitchell asked.
“Hurley helped me, and Claire.” Charlie explained. “They said that they had hope, and that we’d face it together. You should talk to your friends George and Nina, let them in. Maybe they’ll be able to show you that there’s hope for you, too.”
Mitchell wanted to ask Charlie how he could think that, considering that he was now standing in front of him as a ghost, but decided against it. Who knew, maybe Charlie was right. He and George had helped each other through so much in the past, and this may be one more time when they would do the same.