Finish This - Lost - Gen (Desmond)
Title: Finish This
Characters/Pairings: Desmond, Charlie, Liam (Desmond/Penny; Charlie/Claire; some Desmond/Charlie subtext)
Word Count: 6300
Rating: PG-13
A/N: Written with writing_rainbow's Melancholy prompt. AU post-island.
Summary: Charlie returns to deal with his unfinished business - but he needs to enlist the help of an old friend.
The man radiated with quiet desperation, his blue eyes wide behind rectangular glasses. Desmond felt the light joy rushing away from him - air from a balloon - as he saw the stranger standing on his doorstep. Not a stranger at all, of course, so instantly recognisable.
"Are you Desmond?" he asked. The accent was all too familiar. A little different, but fundamentally the same. "Desmond Hume?"
Desmond's hand tightened on the door handle; he considered slamming it shut. Penny was upstairs. He could join her there, lie in their bed and hold her while he pretended his past hadn't come knocking. Looking at the man waiting here he could only see Charlie staring back at him. It was like being down in the underwater hatch all over again - and he hadn't thought of Charlie, hadn't allowed himself to think of him, since he'd left the island and the 'Oceanic Six' behind him years ago.
The stranger shifted and Desmond cleared his throat. "Aye," he confirmed reluctantly. "That's… That's me."
"Great." A smile masking all uncertainly bloomed. "I'm Liam Pace. My baby brother, Charlie - he was on Oceanic Flight 815."
Desmond remembered the lie: he knew what the official story was and yet at times he had to wonder why they stuck to it with such religious dogma. Grieving families, they deserved the truth. He had to force himself to shake his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't know him."
"Please," Liam urged. "I know they weren't telling the truth about the crash. I know everything. Just let me in, alright? I want to talk to you."
Desmond's heart thudded, heavy and fast. How could Liam have found out? It hardly mattered - all that mattered was that he did know, somehow: Desmond would have to dig out Jack's phone number and give him this information. The idea troubled him. Maybe it would be easier to tell Sayid. Less prone to panic, more likely to take a second to think. He'd known Charlie as well, he'd been friends with him.
"Come on in," he said, stepping aside from the doorway. Despite the initial resemblance between the brothers, Liam was different - in his movements, in the nosy way he looked around the hallway once inside, in the very way he carried himself. Everything was bigger than Charlie. Desmond could imagine them as children, as teenagers. A residual ache in his chest reawakened at the thought. If Liam had been on the plane, on the island, he would have protected Charlie so much better than Desmond had managed to do.
Judging by the cold look in Liam's eyes once he was led to the living room, he agreed. He took a seat on the leather couch, lounging back and spreading out. "So you were there when he died, right?" he asked. No time wasted with chit-chat. No ignoring why he was here.
Desmond stayed on his feet, arms crossed over his chest. He tried not to see Charlie reflected in Liam's eyes. "How do you know about that?"
"I'll take that as a 'yes'," Liam said. He nodded once, slowly. "You watched my little brother drown and then you… You just let them lie about it."
"We had to," Desmond rasped. They hadn't had a choice: he'd been told to fade away, to leave the six survivors alone. He'd needed to be with Penny and away from the island so badly that he hadn't questioned what they were doing - anything to escape. "I'm sorry. We just… We had to."
Liam's grin was cruel, ugly. "Is that how you guys sleep at night? Charlie gives up his sodding life for you and then you just pretend he didn't even exist - but, yeah, it's fine. You 'had' to do it, didn't you? Didn't have a choice."
"You don't know…" Desmond started to say, but Liam shook his head before he'd found an explanation.
"I know everything," he said, leaning forward and resting his arms on his legs. He didn't break eye contact for even a second, confident, cold, calculating. "I know Charlie sacrificed himself so that his girl and his kid would get off the island - but that Claire was left behind and that Aaron's being raised by a bloody murderer."
"Kate was found not guilty," Desmond murmured - and he knew that there was no way that Liam should have been able to know about any of this.
"You and I know better than that, don't we?" Liam winked and him and stayed grinning, the smile of Driveshaft's front man. It was charming and bright and absolutely fake. "You turned your back on them, mate. Turned your back on my little brother so I'm here to make you set things right."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"The island, Desmond. You've got to go back."
Desmond laughed, empty as an abandoned mineshaft. Going back to that place was something he only did in his nightmares. "Are you serious?"
Liam still smiled, but there was an absence of humour in his eyes. He pushed up his glasses with the knuckle of one finger over his nose and then leaned back against Desmond's couch. It seemed impossible for him to keep still. "Completely. You have to go back."
"We don't even know where the island is, not any more," Desmond said - because he wouldn't go back there, not ever, not for anything or anyone.
"Yeah, I know. You guys moved it, so this is going to difficult but d'you want to know something? I don't give a flying fuck how difficult it is. Your little flash said that Claire and Aaron get onto a helicopter, that they get rescued. We're going to make that happen."
"No." Desmond shook his head. "No, we're not. I'm not. I don't even know you, brother."
"It's what Charlie wants."
"Charlie's gone," Desmond said - and that still didn't seem real. Charlie had seemed as if he would never die: despite all those flashes Desmond had began to think that they'd be able to beat fate. He'd been wrong. "I'm sorry, but he's gone and that's… That's it. I want you to leave now."
Liam glanced away to the corner of the room, falling silent for a few stretching seconds. His hands clasped together and he released one long, slow breath. "Fine," he said, standing up. "Just think about it, okay?"
Desmond looked down at the carpet and didn't respond, shifting to the side as Liam walked past him. He counted the fall of his footsteps as he moved to the door, listened to it slamming closed behind him, and felt his breath choke out of him. He leaned against the wall and swept a hand over his chin: the beard was gone, shaved clean. Hair was cut. He could change his appearance but he couldn't stop his past mistakes from haunting him. He'd never wanted Charlie to die. He'd never wanted any of this.
The stairs creaked. "Desmond?" Penny called. Her voice was all he'd ever wanted to hear but now the sound of it made the air freeze in his chest. Silenced. Adrenaline flooded unneeded throughout his body. "Des?"
I shouldn't be here, he thought - and he wouldn't be here, not at all, if it wasn't for Charlie. He would never have seen her beautiful face again.
She came into the room - he couldn't hide forever - with a smile. "Des, didn't you hear me? Who was at the…" The words and smile faded as she saw him. Desmond didn't know what it was that stopped her, but something on his face said it all. She grew worried, stern. "What happened?"
He wanted to answer, but from the second she laid her soft hand on his arm he felt the sting of tears he couldn't shed. "I just-" he said, then his voice caught. She drew him in until his arms wrapped around her, held her close. His eyes closed - I just met the brother of the man I allowed to die, wouldn't spill easily from his lips. His face buried against the side of her neck, surrounded by the scent of her skin, her hair.
"Aw," came a voice from the other side of the room. "Very sweet. Cosy, even. She's a wonderful girl, Des." He opened his eyes and looked over Penny's shoulder to find Charlie on his couch. A gentle smile settled on Charlie's face, as if he'd never been gone at all. "Though, I've got to admit, I was kind of hoping that an appeal from the grieving brother would've been enough to get you moving. Looks like I've got to prod you myself though, doesn't it? Claire needs you."
Desmond's arms tightened around Penny, holding onto her as tightly as he dared. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening.
"I'm really here," Charlie said with a sigh, "and you have no idea how boring it gets to have this conversation with every one of you guys when I turn up: I'm dead but also here, alright? It's complicated - just go along with it, okay? And don't freak out."
Not possible. After so long on the island and the string of deaths that led to their final rescue and the constant lying afterwards…. Perhaps he should have followed Penny's advice and visited her therapist. "You're not here," Desmond whispered, watching him. Charlie raised a challenging eyebrow - but it wasn't really happening. It was just a manifestation of his guilt following Liam's visit. That was all. "I'm just seeing things: you're not real."
"Desmond," Penny said as she pulled back from his arms to look at him instead. Her hand rose and cupped his cheek, so calm and soothing. He tried to look at her, only her, but he could see Charlie behind her, a blurry outline. Shorter hair, different clothes, he looked like a whole new man. "Please, what's wrong? Tell me."
"I can see him," Desmond whispered. "Charlie. I can see him."
"Yeah, 'cause I'm right here," Charlie complained as he stood up and wandered across the room. He peered through the blinds of the front window, out over the lawn and flowerbeds. "Seriously, mate. Right here. That's why you can see me."
"There's nothing there," Penny said. "There's no one."
"She can't see me. That doesn't mean I'm not real." Charlie gave an annoyed sigh and hung his head for a few stretching moments. Desmond watched him instead of Penny, the outline of his back and the way he was breathing. Like he was alive. "I'm going to tell Liam to be waiting in the park two streets down tomorrow. On the kids' swings." Charlie looked over his shoulder, the strips of sunlight from beyond the blinds zigzagging on his face. "If you're ready to face up to that last flash be there at midday. Otherwise… Guess I'll see you again in a week."
"Please, Desmond, focus on me. Just on me," Penny pleaded. Her eyes glittered - here he was hurting her again. He looked at her, only her, and pushed his hand through her hair. So soft, always so soft. "Please, Desmond," she whispered again, with a quiver in her voice.
He looked back to the window. The sunlight flowed undisturbed: Charlie was gone. Shaken and with too many faded memories stirred, Desmond rested his head against Penny's shoulder. "I'm okay," he whispered. Penny's lips pressed to his forehead and he clung to her: if she could keep him grounded then, yes, he would be okay.
*
The sunshine was nearly blinding the following day, hot and heavy on the back of his neck. It was island-weather, taking him straight back to those long years. He hadn't planned on coming here: he should have stayed at home, spent the morning with Penny in the garden, forgotten all about what had happened yesterday. Instead here he was, walking towards the park.
It was just to prove a point. Charlie hadn't been real: Liam wouldn't be here. It would be all the proof he needed to put these ghosts back to rest. He looked at the ground as he walked there, one hand hanging in his pocket. Despite knowing that there could be no one waiting for him, butterflies buzzed in his stomach.
The red-painted metal fence around the park gleamed as he approached. It was busy inside and the sound of children screaming and laughing pierced the summer heat. Desmond's footsteps faltered as he spotted a dark figure lingering uneasily by the swings. Liam had switched his clear glasses for shades, but he was still instantly recognisable. Impossible, Desmond thought - but impossible or not, Charlie's brother was there.
Desmond paused outside the gates. He could turn around now, retreat home and never have to face this insanity. His feet wouldn't move in either direction. Frozen. Paused.
He never got a chance to run. Liam looked up, directly at him, and grinned. He moved away from the swing-set, out the gates and straight to Desmond's side. "Didn't think you'd turn up," Liam said. "Had a bet running with Charlie about it. Looks like he wins."
"Charlie…" Desmond repeated. Was this really happening?
"Yeah. You saw him too, didn't you?"
"I don't know." He shook his head. "He's dead."
Liam removed his sunglasses and kept on grinning - he looked manic. "He gave the 'but also here' speech, right? He likes that one. Thinks it makes him sound mysterious."
"Aye," Desmond murmured, his mind both blank and busy. "Mysterious."
"You could look a little happier about it." Liam spread his arms wide and gave a disbelieving laugh. "Charlie's here. He's been gone for years and now… Now I get to talk to him. Apologise. You too - how can you not be fucking excited?"
It made sense. Desmond had a chance to say he was sorry for the way everything had turned out. Yet - "He wants me to go back to the island."
"He wants you to rescue Claire," Liam said. He gestured along the street with one arm and they turned, beginning to walk slowly side-by-side as they talked. The sound of the children began to fade behind them. This all felt too normal: Desmond couldn't handle having this situation in as ordinary a place as this. "Claire's his Penny, mate. In his position… You'd want her saved, wouldn't you?"
Desmond knew the answer to that: he knew he'd never rest until he knew Penny was safe and home. He looked to Liam, at the barely contained eagerness and desperation there. He didn't want to do this - he didn't even know how to try - but his throat felt clogged and he didn't know how to say no.
"C'mon," Liam urged quietly, "you know Charlie wouldn't let anything happen to us."
That ought to have been reassuring, but what could a ghost do? How would a dead man prevent him from being trapped on the island for another three years? "Liam, I don't think I'm the right man for this. I don't think-"
"You're the one that had the flashes," Liam said. "Charlie says it has to be you."
"Then- " He didn't want to agree, he didn't want to do this, but he owed Charlie everything. "Then I guess I can't say no."
"Seriously?" Liam waited until Desmond nodded before he gave a triumphant whoop and punched the air. His arm fell around Desmond's shoulders as if they were already good friends. "That is definitely the right decision."
Desmond was still highly dubious about that, second thoughts creeping up already, but he nodded. "So what's the plan?"
"Plan?" Liam seemed surprised and looked ahead along the road, as if searching for answers there. Desmond wished that he'd urged Charlie to tell him more about his family when he was alive: an insight into Liam's mind would have been a useful thing to have right now. Liam shrugged wildly. "Guess we've got to find ourselves a helicopter."
Desmond felt his grip on normality fading further. Self-control slipping, logic failing, fate ruling. He had no idea where this road would take them - but when he looked at Liam's face he knew there was no going back on his word now.
*
Penny cried. He'd had the sneaking suspicion that she would when he'd told her he had to go away for a while - and that she couldn't come too. He'd broken her heart too many times already but there was no other choice. The promise to return to her as soon as he could hadn't been enough to wipe away the silent tear tracks on her face.
Now he was in a hotel room in Fiji and wishing he was back home with her instead. Chartering a helicopter had been much easier than he'd hoped it would be. Time moved too fast, slipping past effortlessly. Tomorrow they would be heading out to the area highlighted on Liam's map: he'd said that Charlie had told him about it months ago.
Desmond cast an uneasy glance in the direction of his co-traveller. Liam was Charlie magnified, but the flaws were bigger too: his instability was out of control. Desmond didn't dare to ask about is poor wife and daughter left behind in Australia. According to Driveshaft's lovingly maintained fan site, Liam was supposed to have settled down. Right now he looked so very far from 'settled'.
"Yeah," Charlie agreed, suddenly sitting on the end of Desmond's bed. Liam didn't stir, didn't look up and didn't give any indication of hearing their new visitor at all. "The last few years have been pretty tough on him He'll be okay once we're done here."
Desmond raised his head but Charlie hushed him before he could say anything. He flicked his thumb towards Liam. "This is just between me and you, okay? Don't let on that you're talking to me." Charlie lay back on the bed, his hands resting over his stomach. "When I was alive, me and Liam had an argument the day before I got on the plane. He's been blaming himself ever since - I just…" He trailed off and Desmond had to bite his tongue to stop himself from talking, pretending to focus on his book instead. "I wanted him to be able to help me. Y'know, so he'll feel… I dunno. He's my big brother. Even if he was a right wanker most days he wants to make it right now. Look out for me. This'll give him some closure."
Closure. Desmond wasn't sure if he liked the sound of that word dripping wearily from Charlie's mouth.
Charlie sat up again, the far-away expression on his face banished and replaced with a knowing grin. "C'mon - make an excuse and come for a walk with me. We should probably talk, right?"
He stood up, stretching his legs and leaving, walking straight through the door. Desmond closed the book that had laid open, unread, on his lap and glanced towards Liam. "I'm going to go and get some air," he said. Liam nodded but didn't glance towards him.
Charlie was leaning against the wall in the corridor outside. He looked alive, real - and that should have been impossible. "You look good, y'know," Charlie mused. "Glad the beard's gone - you look less Yeti-ish now. It's good. I like it."
"I'm happy you approve," Desmond murmured, bemused. They wandered along the corridor, past plastic plants and garish lighting. "Charlie, I-"
"You're sorry. I know." Charlie shrugged, hands in his pockets. "I was always going to die on that island, Des. It was just a question of when."
Desmond didn't know if he could accept that, but Charlie didn't seem in a rush to yell at him about his role in his death. "It shouldn't have happened like that."
They entered the lift and Desmond held his tongue because of the other passengers. Though Charlie stood beside him perfectly visible and corporeal, his reflection didn't show in the mirror at the back of the elevator. Desmond leaned forward to press the button for the ground floor and politely stepped back. It wasn't too crowded in here but there were still a handful of people to share the space with.
"You're right," Charlie said as Desmond tried not to look as if he was listening to thin air. "It all went wrong - which is why we're here, why we're fixing it. Once they're rescued… It'll all be set right again, won't it?"
"You'll still be-" Desmond cut himself off as the older woman beside him looked up in alarm. He focused on the elevator floor and stayed silent until the doors pinged and opened up at the right floor: he ignored the sound of Charlie's barely contained laughter until they'd managed to make it out of the hotel lobby. "You realise I look absolutely insane when I'm talking to you?" he hissed as quietly as he could when they walked along the sidewalk.
"Yeah, I know. It's sodding brilliant." Charlie grinned. It didn't last long but he looked genuinely happy. Desmond wished that he'd known him before the island, out in the real world. Somewhere without the flashes and fate hanging over their friendship. "Look, I can't stay too long. I-"
"Why?" He couldn't hide the alarm in his voice: where exactly did Charlie go when he wasn't here with them?
Charlie laughed again. "I just can't; trust me. It's… hard. Difficult. And way too complicated to try and explain so take my word on it." Desmond nodded reluctantly; he was out of his depth here, surrounded by the afterlife, the supernatural and the damn island. Charlie stopped walking beneath a street lamp and looked up at him. "Like I was saying - I wanted you to know that I don't blame you. Not one bit."
"Charlie…"
"What happened down in that hatch was supposed to happen. Please, I don't… I don't want anyone to feel guilty about it. I made a choice and I stand by it. Seeing you and Liam and Hurley and… Seeing everyone blaming themselves makes it bloody hard to move on."
Move on.
Closure.
"When we get to the island…" Desmond said, though he almost didn't want to know. "When we rescue Claire - what's gonna happen to you, brother?"
Charlie didn't smile this time. He met Desmond's eyes, steady and without glancing away; Desmond found himself hesitant to get on the helicopter tomorrow. He'd only just got Charlie back. "It'll be okay," Charlie promised, but that wasn't the kind of reassurance he needed.
Charlie put an arm around him and pulled him close, letting Desmond hold onto him in the same way that Penny had. He was solid, warm, here - Desmond didn't think about how he must have looked to the others on the street, hugging someone who wasn't there. Charlie patted his back and murmured quietly, "It'll be okay, I promise. Just- look out for my brother, okay? Make sure he goes back home to Karen and Megan. And Claire, she'll need help too. Visit Hurley if you can. He gets lonely."
"Charlie, don't," Desmond whispered. The time that they should have pulled back came and went unheeded: he still held tightly and Charlie didn't try to pull away. "Everyone still needs you here: you just said it yourself."
"Everyone needs someone, not me in particular," Charlie whispered back. He sounded too calm, too rational. "I'm not scared. I'm not - you shouldn't be either."
"I'm so sorry, brother. I'm-"
Charlie hushed him, warm air by his ear. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? It's not the time for goodbyes."
"Not yet, right?"
Charlie pulled away from him. There was a smile on his face now, but his eyes were wet. "You are going to be fine," he said. The calm front was finally broken. His hand squeezed Desmond's shoulder - that wasn't enough to be reassuring.
A blink of an eye later and he was gone: Desmond stood alone in the street, a painful lump growing in his throat as tears threatened his eyes.
*
Flying made him feel ill. It had ever since the rescue: he and Penny had found a place together just outside of London and he had vowed never to leave his safe little country again. He'd never envisioned sitting in a helicopter flying over the ocean as they searched for the very place he'd vowed never to return to.
Liam's eyes stayed firmly on the perfectly blue water beneath them. Desmond's hands refused to stay still and he tried to recall the sound of Penny's voice to keep himself calm. She had urged him to come back home last night when he'd called her: if everything went according to plan today then by tonight he could be on a flight back to England.
"You'd think Charlie would've come," Liam said over the intercom. Desmond closed his eyes. Even blocked out, the helicopter sounded far too loud. George, their pilot, didn't glance back at them, focused instead on the route they had asked him to fly.
"He'll be here when we need him," Desmond said confidently. Whether Charlie had also paid Liam a visit last night or not was impossible to tell. "You're sure this is the right route?" There was nothing but water below them for miles, no green drops of land waiting.
"Charlie said this way, on this bearing," Liam confirmed.
Desmond nodded sombrely; if Charlie said that this was the right way then Desmond could put all the faith he had in him. George stayed calm and stoic; Desmond didn't care to find out what he thought of his passengers or their odd requests as long as he kept flying where they asked.
"Hey, look sharp," George said - confused. "What's that?" He readjusted his steady grip on the controls, flexing his hands as if shaking away a cramp.
Desmond sat forward to get a better look out of the front of the helicopter - and there it was, their island. It loomed large in the near distance in a spot Desmond would have sworn had been nothing but water seconds ago. Like an optical illusion it appeared out of nowhere, every beach and mountain and jungle exactly as it should have been.
"Right, that's brilliant," Charlie's voice said over the intercom. Desmond spun around to look at the back of the helicopter. Charlie wasn't anywhere in sight, but Liam was grinning brightly. "Make sure the pilot sticks to the exact bearing I gave you. Dan says if you do that you'll get there safely."
"Dan?" Desmond asked, surprised. "You've been talking to Daniel?"
"I've been talking to just about everyone, mate. Don't get jealous." In Charlie's voice he could hear the smirk, even the wink. It was impossible not to smile back. "C'mon you two, focus. Stay strapped in, okay - this might get a little bit bumpy."
Liam checked his seatbelt, tightening it. "Why don't I like the sound of that?"
"Relax," Charlie said, sounding remarkably calm himself. "It's going to be fine."
"Fine. Yeah, fine. I trust you, baby brother," Liam promised, though his hands formed white-knuckled fists and his eyes screwed so tightly shut.
"Thanks." There was a long pause as the island came closer and closer. Desmond was almost convinced that Charlie had left again before he said, "Love you, Liam." The line cut out with a fizz like a flame plopped in water. It sounded too much like a goodbye - but when the helicopter shook, rocking violently, there was no chance for Liam to respond.
George swore under his breath, flicking controls and reading monitors. "Stay on this bearing," Desmond told him. "Don't change direction."
"No matter how tough it gets," Liam added.
The helicopter shook again. There were no clouds and the weather looked so calm, but their helicopter shook like an invisible hand played with it. George swore - fuck and fuck and fuck and fuck - and Desmond thought of Charlie. Charlie wouldn't have brought them here to die.
Like you did to him, his mind whispered, Maybe this is payback, not rescue, maybe this is revenge; Liam seems to think he has something to atone for, doesn't he, and you do too - of course you do too.
The sea faded beneath them until they were flying over land. The green jungle was bright in the sunshine. "Can you land down there?" Desmond yelled over the intercom, pointing down and ahead at the clear, grassy area: was that were Frank had landed? He didn't remember. He couldn't recognise any of it any more.
"I can try," George muttered, barely audible. The helicopter shuddered again like a giant fist slammed into the side of it. Desmond's nails dug into the flesh of his palm to keep himself steady: they'd survive this. He'd see Penny again.
George swore and now Desmond closed his eyes; he couldn't do anything to help. His heart thudded, blood pumped, the world shook. Going down. The world spun as they rushed towards the ground.
It'll be okay, Charlie whispered - a memory, a ghost, a voice, he didn't care. The helicopter's base bumped against the ground, bounced forward, hit again like a stone skimming over water. An alarm screamed from the control centre, lights flashed and -
They stopped.
It all stopped.
Desmond cracked one eye open. Sunlight shone through the helicopter's window: everything was still. Motionless. The blades above them slowed to a stop, moving lazily - Desmond pulled his headset off. "Is everyone okay?" he asked, glancing back at Liam.
Liam raised his head and took a second to look out of the window at their surroundings. Grass and trees and hills - the jungle. The look of wonder on Liam's face was almost enough to allay Desmond's fear of being back here. He released himself from his safety belt and shifted forward. "Can we go out?" Desmond asked George.
The pilot removed his headset and glanced over his shoulder. "Go ahead," he said with a faint smile. "I'm gonna go see if we've got any damage."
Desmond nodded - though he wished they'd brought Sayid along - and tugged on the sliding door of the helicopter. He stepped outside onto the soft grass. His eyes squinted against the light and he raised a hand to shade them.
Liam hopped out behind him, laughing quietly. "So this is it?" he asked. "This is Charlie's island?"
"Yeah," Desmond confirmed. "This is it." Being back here… It was too strange. He felt locked here, trapped, as if he was going to spend another three years underground pushing another button.
Liam roamed, taking long and aimless footsteps around the area. "Where are they then?" he asked. "Where is she? Claire. They've got to be around here somewhere, right?"
"They're coming," Charlie said, appearing beside Desmond. Liam didn't glance at him, didn't see him at all. Looking at Charlie, Desmond was glad that he was hidden from his brother: he looked ill, sweat beading on his forehead. His face was pale, clammy, and he'd shed the leather jacket he'd been wearing each time that Desmond had seen him before. He'd never known that a ghost could fall ill. "I told them. They're on their way here."
"Brother, are you alright?" Desmond asked. He ignored Liam's confused questions. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing. Nothing, I'm…" Charlie sat down despite his protests, plopping straight onto the grass. He breathed like an Olympic swimmer at the end of a race. "It's just hard work."
"And complicated, right?" Desmond knelt down beside him, brushed damp hair from his face. "Take it easy."
"Is that Charlie?" Liam asked. "Is Charlie there?"
Desmond nodded gravely. "He's not doing so good." He knew that Charlie was holding on until he saw Claire rescued - but what happened once a ghost's unfinished business was completed?
"Don't say that," Charlie murmured. "Don't let Liam worry."
"I'm not gonna lie to him." Desmond tried to ignore the frantic look in Liam's eyes when he returned his attention to him. "Charlie's not coming back with us, Liam. Once Claire's rescued…"
"I know," Liam said. "He told me that, I just…"
"It's okay." Desmond promised. It felt like watching Charlie die all over again - and once more Charlie was too accepting, too calm. "It'll all be okay."
"Preaching to the choir, mate. I'm looking forward to it. Moving on. Resting. It's… Bright. Bright lights, everything. The whole…" He frowned and the thought disappeared, faded far away. "They should be getting here soon."
"Yeah," Desmond promised. He found Charlie's hand and held onto it tightly: his palm felt scorching hot. "Not long now."
"The helicopter's fine. Few scratches, that's all," George yelled to them.
Just a matter of waiting, now. He had to ignore Liam constantly urging him to get Charlie to appear to him too - he couldn't, not now. Too hard. Too bloody complicated. Charlie lay down within five minutes, his head resting heavily in Desmond's lap. The helicopter was ready to leave: George sat a small distance away from them, out in the sun with a box of sandwiches.
Charlie noticed the crunching sound of footsteps coming towards them from the jungle before the rest of them were aware of the sound. His head shifted where it rested so that he could watch the exact right spot. "Here they come," he murmured.
The bushes shook and moments later three tanned and tired people appeared: Claire, Sawyer, Juliet. Their clothes were faded and patched and Desmond wanted to move away when he saw their faces. He'd only seen that expression once before: on Danielle's face. She'd spent sixteen years on this island. These three had been here only a fraction of the time. Desmond didn't want to know what had happened to paint their faces like that.
"Where's everyone else?" he asked. Jin, Bernard, Rose, Locke, Daniel…
There was no answer, only a hardened stare. "Where's Charlie?" Claire asked.
Still lying there, head on Desmond's lap, Charlie smiled as he watched her. "I'm gonna- gonna try and go talk to her, Des," he said, voice hushed.
"Guess this is goodbye, then," Desmond said - and the world was dropping away again. "Thank you, for…"
"For coming back to kick your arse into gear?" Charlie grinned and sat up. He pushed worriedly at his hair, wiped a hand over his face like he was getting ready for a date. "No problem. I'm just glad I got the chance to, y'know, set things right. Say… I dunno. Say something to Penny for me, alright?"
Desmond nodded but he didn't trust himself to speak, not even after Charlie disappeared from his sight. He climbed shakily to his feet when he saw Claire's wobbly smile and moved towards Sawyer and Juliet - to say hello to them all over again, to apologise, to try and ignore what they could hear of Claire and Charlie's last conversation.
"We should get over to the helicopter," he suggested as Claire clung to thin air, tears glittering. "The sooner we're out of here the better. This place still gives me the creeps."
"It's not so bad," Juliet said, looking around wistfully. The time that had passed had hardened her voice, cooled it further. It sounded like ice. "Not once you're used to it."
"Bullshit," Sawyer complained, but he kept a wary eye on Claire's whispered conversation with Charlie. "Let's get out of here."
Desmond had to grab onto Liam's arm to pull him to the helicopter and George's half-finished sandwich had to be discarded on the grass. They sat down, strapped themselves in, waited. "Claire!" Juliet called out of the helicopter's side; the blades were beginning to turn. "Claire, please - we need to go."
Claire looked towards them, eyes glassy and glittering, but she seemed unable to let go. Charlie can't move on until she's left the island, Desmond thought - he didn't want to say goodbye any more than she did but it was time. It was finally time: Charlie was ready.
"Claire," he yelled. "Claire, get in here. It's what Charlie wants."
She paused again, face tilted away from them as her hair was tucked behind her ear as if by the wind, and Desmond would have given the world to be able to see Charlie, to hear what he said to place that little smile on her face - and, most importantly, to finally get her to leave.
She ran to the helicopter, ducked low to avoid the spinning blades. Tumbling inside she found her seat, strapped herself in and pulled on one of the headsets. She brushed away tears from her face with the back of her hand, refusing to fall apart. Desmond looked towards her, caught her eyes; she nodded at him, sniffed, and that was enough. I'm okay, it seemed to promise. I'm going to be okay.
That was the most they could hope for, Desmond told himself as he looked out of the window.
"Have we got everyone?" George called over the intercom. It was confirmed by Juliet, calm and collected: they were the last survivors. The helicopter took off.
Desmond tuned out the conversation between Liam and the others, the introductions and explanations as he watched the island becoming smaller as the helicopter rose - up and up. He looked across the grass, right to the tree line, for any sign of Charlie, any last glimpse of his friend, one goodbye.
Nothing, nothing at all - only a bright flash of sunlight when they left the island behind. It disappeared from sight just as it had appeared before. Staring at the blank sea Desmond leaned back in his seat and felt a years-old tension vanish, releasing him. It was over, done, finally finished. Claire would be reunited with her son; Juliet with her sister; Sawyer with Kate. No need to go back.
They flew away and Desmond smiled, eyes closing in relief: the island would finally let them move on.
Characters/Pairings: Desmond, Charlie, Liam (Desmond/Penny; Charlie/Claire; some Desmond/Charlie subtext)
Word Count: 6300
Rating: PG-13
A/N: Written with writing_rainbow's Melancholy prompt. AU post-island.
Summary: Charlie returns to deal with his unfinished business - but he needs to enlist the help of an old friend.
The man radiated with quiet desperation, his blue eyes wide behind rectangular glasses. Desmond felt the light joy rushing away from him - air from a balloon - as he saw the stranger standing on his doorstep. Not a stranger at all, of course, so instantly recognisable.
"Are you Desmond?" he asked. The accent was all too familiar. A little different, but fundamentally the same. "Desmond Hume?"
Desmond's hand tightened on the door handle; he considered slamming it shut. Penny was upstairs. He could join her there, lie in their bed and hold her while he pretended his past hadn't come knocking. Looking at the man waiting here he could only see Charlie staring back at him. It was like being down in the underwater hatch all over again - and he hadn't thought of Charlie, hadn't allowed himself to think of him, since he'd left the island and the 'Oceanic Six' behind him years ago.
The stranger shifted and Desmond cleared his throat. "Aye," he confirmed reluctantly. "That's… That's me."
"Great." A smile masking all uncertainly bloomed. "I'm Liam Pace. My baby brother, Charlie - he was on Oceanic Flight 815."
Desmond remembered the lie: he knew what the official story was and yet at times he had to wonder why they stuck to it with such religious dogma. Grieving families, they deserved the truth. He had to force himself to shake his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't know him."
"Please," Liam urged. "I know they weren't telling the truth about the crash. I know everything. Just let me in, alright? I want to talk to you."
Desmond's heart thudded, heavy and fast. How could Liam have found out? It hardly mattered - all that mattered was that he did know, somehow: Desmond would have to dig out Jack's phone number and give him this information. The idea troubled him. Maybe it would be easier to tell Sayid. Less prone to panic, more likely to take a second to think. He'd known Charlie as well, he'd been friends with him.
"Come on in," he said, stepping aside from the doorway. Despite the initial resemblance between the brothers, Liam was different - in his movements, in the nosy way he looked around the hallway once inside, in the very way he carried himself. Everything was bigger than Charlie. Desmond could imagine them as children, as teenagers. A residual ache in his chest reawakened at the thought. If Liam had been on the plane, on the island, he would have protected Charlie so much better than Desmond had managed to do.
Judging by the cold look in Liam's eyes once he was led to the living room, he agreed. He took a seat on the leather couch, lounging back and spreading out. "So you were there when he died, right?" he asked. No time wasted with chit-chat. No ignoring why he was here.
Desmond stayed on his feet, arms crossed over his chest. He tried not to see Charlie reflected in Liam's eyes. "How do you know about that?"
"I'll take that as a 'yes'," Liam said. He nodded once, slowly. "You watched my little brother drown and then you… You just let them lie about it."
"We had to," Desmond rasped. They hadn't had a choice: he'd been told to fade away, to leave the six survivors alone. He'd needed to be with Penny and away from the island so badly that he hadn't questioned what they were doing - anything to escape. "I'm sorry. We just… We had to."
Liam's grin was cruel, ugly. "Is that how you guys sleep at night? Charlie gives up his sodding life for you and then you just pretend he didn't even exist - but, yeah, it's fine. You 'had' to do it, didn't you? Didn't have a choice."
"You don't know…" Desmond started to say, but Liam shook his head before he'd found an explanation.
"I know everything," he said, leaning forward and resting his arms on his legs. He didn't break eye contact for even a second, confident, cold, calculating. "I know Charlie sacrificed himself so that his girl and his kid would get off the island - but that Claire was left behind and that Aaron's being raised by a bloody murderer."
"Kate was found not guilty," Desmond murmured - and he knew that there was no way that Liam should have been able to know about any of this.
"You and I know better than that, don't we?" Liam winked and him and stayed grinning, the smile of Driveshaft's front man. It was charming and bright and absolutely fake. "You turned your back on them, mate. Turned your back on my little brother so I'm here to make you set things right."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"The island, Desmond. You've got to go back."
Desmond laughed, empty as an abandoned mineshaft. Going back to that place was something he only did in his nightmares. "Are you serious?"
Liam still smiled, but there was an absence of humour in his eyes. He pushed up his glasses with the knuckle of one finger over his nose and then leaned back against Desmond's couch. It seemed impossible for him to keep still. "Completely. You have to go back."
"We don't even know where the island is, not any more," Desmond said - because he wouldn't go back there, not ever, not for anything or anyone.
"Yeah, I know. You guys moved it, so this is going to difficult but d'you want to know something? I don't give a flying fuck how difficult it is. Your little flash said that Claire and Aaron get onto a helicopter, that they get rescued. We're going to make that happen."
"No." Desmond shook his head. "No, we're not. I'm not. I don't even know you, brother."
"It's what Charlie wants."
"Charlie's gone," Desmond said - and that still didn't seem real. Charlie had seemed as if he would never die: despite all those flashes Desmond had began to think that they'd be able to beat fate. He'd been wrong. "I'm sorry, but he's gone and that's… That's it. I want you to leave now."
Liam glanced away to the corner of the room, falling silent for a few stretching seconds. His hands clasped together and he released one long, slow breath. "Fine," he said, standing up. "Just think about it, okay?"
Desmond looked down at the carpet and didn't respond, shifting to the side as Liam walked past him. He counted the fall of his footsteps as he moved to the door, listened to it slamming closed behind him, and felt his breath choke out of him. He leaned against the wall and swept a hand over his chin: the beard was gone, shaved clean. Hair was cut. He could change his appearance but he couldn't stop his past mistakes from haunting him. He'd never wanted Charlie to die. He'd never wanted any of this.
The stairs creaked. "Desmond?" Penny called. Her voice was all he'd ever wanted to hear but now the sound of it made the air freeze in his chest. Silenced. Adrenaline flooded unneeded throughout his body. "Des?"
I shouldn't be here, he thought - and he wouldn't be here, not at all, if it wasn't for Charlie. He would never have seen her beautiful face again.
She came into the room - he couldn't hide forever - with a smile. "Des, didn't you hear me? Who was at the…" The words and smile faded as she saw him. Desmond didn't know what it was that stopped her, but something on his face said it all. She grew worried, stern. "What happened?"
He wanted to answer, but from the second she laid her soft hand on his arm he felt the sting of tears he couldn't shed. "I just-" he said, then his voice caught. She drew him in until his arms wrapped around her, held her close. His eyes closed - I just met the brother of the man I allowed to die, wouldn't spill easily from his lips. His face buried against the side of her neck, surrounded by the scent of her skin, her hair.
"Aw," came a voice from the other side of the room. "Very sweet. Cosy, even. She's a wonderful girl, Des." He opened his eyes and looked over Penny's shoulder to find Charlie on his couch. A gentle smile settled on Charlie's face, as if he'd never been gone at all. "Though, I've got to admit, I was kind of hoping that an appeal from the grieving brother would've been enough to get you moving. Looks like I've got to prod you myself though, doesn't it? Claire needs you."
Desmond's arms tightened around Penny, holding onto her as tightly as he dared. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening.
"I'm really here," Charlie said with a sigh, "and you have no idea how boring it gets to have this conversation with every one of you guys when I turn up: I'm dead but also here, alright? It's complicated - just go along with it, okay? And don't freak out."
Not possible. After so long on the island and the string of deaths that led to their final rescue and the constant lying afterwards…. Perhaps he should have followed Penny's advice and visited her therapist. "You're not here," Desmond whispered, watching him. Charlie raised a challenging eyebrow - but it wasn't really happening. It was just a manifestation of his guilt following Liam's visit. That was all. "I'm just seeing things: you're not real."
"Desmond," Penny said as she pulled back from his arms to look at him instead. Her hand rose and cupped his cheek, so calm and soothing. He tried to look at her, only her, but he could see Charlie behind her, a blurry outline. Shorter hair, different clothes, he looked like a whole new man. "Please, what's wrong? Tell me."
"I can see him," Desmond whispered. "Charlie. I can see him."
"Yeah, 'cause I'm right here," Charlie complained as he stood up and wandered across the room. He peered through the blinds of the front window, out over the lawn and flowerbeds. "Seriously, mate. Right here. That's why you can see me."
"There's nothing there," Penny said. "There's no one."
"She can't see me. That doesn't mean I'm not real." Charlie gave an annoyed sigh and hung his head for a few stretching moments. Desmond watched him instead of Penny, the outline of his back and the way he was breathing. Like he was alive. "I'm going to tell Liam to be waiting in the park two streets down tomorrow. On the kids' swings." Charlie looked over his shoulder, the strips of sunlight from beyond the blinds zigzagging on his face. "If you're ready to face up to that last flash be there at midday. Otherwise… Guess I'll see you again in a week."
"Please, Desmond, focus on me. Just on me," Penny pleaded. Her eyes glittered - here he was hurting her again. He looked at her, only her, and pushed his hand through her hair. So soft, always so soft. "Please, Desmond," she whispered again, with a quiver in her voice.
He looked back to the window. The sunlight flowed undisturbed: Charlie was gone. Shaken and with too many faded memories stirred, Desmond rested his head against Penny's shoulder. "I'm okay," he whispered. Penny's lips pressed to his forehead and he clung to her: if she could keep him grounded then, yes, he would be okay.
*
The sunshine was nearly blinding the following day, hot and heavy on the back of his neck. It was island-weather, taking him straight back to those long years. He hadn't planned on coming here: he should have stayed at home, spent the morning with Penny in the garden, forgotten all about what had happened yesterday. Instead here he was, walking towards the park.
It was just to prove a point. Charlie hadn't been real: Liam wouldn't be here. It would be all the proof he needed to put these ghosts back to rest. He looked at the ground as he walked there, one hand hanging in his pocket. Despite knowing that there could be no one waiting for him, butterflies buzzed in his stomach.
The red-painted metal fence around the park gleamed as he approached. It was busy inside and the sound of children screaming and laughing pierced the summer heat. Desmond's footsteps faltered as he spotted a dark figure lingering uneasily by the swings. Liam had switched his clear glasses for shades, but he was still instantly recognisable. Impossible, Desmond thought - but impossible or not, Charlie's brother was there.
Desmond paused outside the gates. He could turn around now, retreat home and never have to face this insanity. His feet wouldn't move in either direction. Frozen. Paused.
He never got a chance to run. Liam looked up, directly at him, and grinned. He moved away from the swing-set, out the gates and straight to Desmond's side. "Didn't think you'd turn up," Liam said. "Had a bet running with Charlie about it. Looks like he wins."
"Charlie…" Desmond repeated. Was this really happening?
"Yeah. You saw him too, didn't you?"
"I don't know." He shook his head. "He's dead."
Liam removed his sunglasses and kept on grinning - he looked manic. "He gave the 'but also here' speech, right? He likes that one. Thinks it makes him sound mysterious."
"Aye," Desmond murmured, his mind both blank and busy. "Mysterious."
"You could look a little happier about it." Liam spread his arms wide and gave a disbelieving laugh. "Charlie's here. He's been gone for years and now… Now I get to talk to him. Apologise. You too - how can you not be fucking excited?"
It made sense. Desmond had a chance to say he was sorry for the way everything had turned out. Yet - "He wants me to go back to the island."
"He wants you to rescue Claire," Liam said. He gestured along the street with one arm and they turned, beginning to walk slowly side-by-side as they talked. The sound of the children began to fade behind them. This all felt too normal: Desmond couldn't handle having this situation in as ordinary a place as this. "Claire's his Penny, mate. In his position… You'd want her saved, wouldn't you?"
Desmond knew the answer to that: he knew he'd never rest until he knew Penny was safe and home. He looked to Liam, at the barely contained eagerness and desperation there. He didn't want to do this - he didn't even know how to try - but his throat felt clogged and he didn't know how to say no.
"C'mon," Liam urged quietly, "you know Charlie wouldn't let anything happen to us."
That ought to have been reassuring, but what could a ghost do? How would a dead man prevent him from being trapped on the island for another three years? "Liam, I don't think I'm the right man for this. I don't think-"
"You're the one that had the flashes," Liam said. "Charlie says it has to be you."
"Then- " He didn't want to agree, he didn't want to do this, but he owed Charlie everything. "Then I guess I can't say no."
"Seriously?" Liam waited until Desmond nodded before he gave a triumphant whoop and punched the air. His arm fell around Desmond's shoulders as if they were already good friends. "That is definitely the right decision."
Desmond was still highly dubious about that, second thoughts creeping up already, but he nodded. "So what's the plan?"
"Plan?" Liam seemed surprised and looked ahead along the road, as if searching for answers there. Desmond wished that he'd urged Charlie to tell him more about his family when he was alive: an insight into Liam's mind would have been a useful thing to have right now. Liam shrugged wildly. "Guess we've got to find ourselves a helicopter."
Desmond felt his grip on normality fading further. Self-control slipping, logic failing, fate ruling. He had no idea where this road would take them - but when he looked at Liam's face he knew there was no going back on his word now.
*
Penny cried. He'd had the sneaking suspicion that she would when he'd told her he had to go away for a while - and that she couldn't come too. He'd broken her heart too many times already but there was no other choice. The promise to return to her as soon as he could hadn't been enough to wipe away the silent tear tracks on her face.
Now he was in a hotel room in Fiji and wishing he was back home with her instead. Chartering a helicopter had been much easier than he'd hoped it would be. Time moved too fast, slipping past effortlessly. Tomorrow they would be heading out to the area highlighted on Liam's map: he'd said that Charlie had told him about it months ago.
Desmond cast an uneasy glance in the direction of his co-traveller. Liam was Charlie magnified, but the flaws were bigger too: his instability was out of control. Desmond didn't dare to ask about is poor wife and daughter left behind in Australia. According to Driveshaft's lovingly maintained fan site, Liam was supposed to have settled down. Right now he looked so very far from 'settled'.
"Yeah," Charlie agreed, suddenly sitting on the end of Desmond's bed. Liam didn't stir, didn't look up and didn't give any indication of hearing their new visitor at all. "The last few years have been pretty tough on him He'll be okay once we're done here."
Desmond raised his head but Charlie hushed him before he could say anything. He flicked his thumb towards Liam. "This is just between me and you, okay? Don't let on that you're talking to me." Charlie lay back on the bed, his hands resting over his stomach. "When I was alive, me and Liam had an argument the day before I got on the plane. He's been blaming himself ever since - I just…" He trailed off and Desmond had to bite his tongue to stop himself from talking, pretending to focus on his book instead. "I wanted him to be able to help me. Y'know, so he'll feel… I dunno. He's my big brother. Even if he was a right wanker most days he wants to make it right now. Look out for me. This'll give him some closure."
Closure. Desmond wasn't sure if he liked the sound of that word dripping wearily from Charlie's mouth.
Charlie sat up again, the far-away expression on his face banished and replaced with a knowing grin. "C'mon - make an excuse and come for a walk with me. We should probably talk, right?"
He stood up, stretching his legs and leaving, walking straight through the door. Desmond closed the book that had laid open, unread, on his lap and glanced towards Liam. "I'm going to go and get some air," he said. Liam nodded but didn't glance towards him.
Charlie was leaning against the wall in the corridor outside. He looked alive, real - and that should have been impossible. "You look good, y'know," Charlie mused. "Glad the beard's gone - you look less Yeti-ish now. It's good. I like it."
"I'm happy you approve," Desmond murmured, bemused. They wandered along the corridor, past plastic plants and garish lighting. "Charlie, I-"
"You're sorry. I know." Charlie shrugged, hands in his pockets. "I was always going to die on that island, Des. It was just a question of when."
Desmond didn't know if he could accept that, but Charlie didn't seem in a rush to yell at him about his role in his death. "It shouldn't have happened like that."
They entered the lift and Desmond held his tongue because of the other passengers. Though Charlie stood beside him perfectly visible and corporeal, his reflection didn't show in the mirror at the back of the elevator. Desmond leaned forward to press the button for the ground floor and politely stepped back. It wasn't too crowded in here but there were still a handful of people to share the space with.
"You're right," Charlie said as Desmond tried not to look as if he was listening to thin air. "It all went wrong - which is why we're here, why we're fixing it. Once they're rescued… It'll all be set right again, won't it?"
"You'll still be-" Desmond cut himself off as the older woman beside him looked up in alarm. He focused on the elevator floor and stayed silent until the doors pinged and opened up at the right floor: he ignored the sound of Charlie's barely contained laughter until they'd managed to make it out of the hotel lobby. "You realise I look absolutely insane when I'm talking to you?" he hissed as quietly as he could when they walked along the sidewalk.
"Yeah, I know. It's sodding brilliant." Charlie grinned. It didn't last long but he looked genuinely happy. Desmond wished that he'd known him before the island, out in the real world. Somewhere without the flashes and fate hanging over their friendship. "Look, I can't stay too long. I-"
"Why?" He couldn't hide the alarm in his voice: where exactly did Charlie go when he wasn't here with them?
Charlie laughed again. "I just can't; trust me. It's… hard. Difficult. And way too complicated to try and explain so take my word on it." Desmond nodded reluctantly; he was out of his depth here, surrounded by the afterlife, the supernatural and the damn island. Charlie stopped walking beneath a street lamp and looked up at him. "Like I was saying - I wanted you to know that I don't blame you. Not one bit."
"Charlie…"
"What happened down in that hatch was supposed to happen. Please, I don't… I don't want anyone to feel guilty about it. I made a choice and I stand by it. Seeing you and Liam and Hurley and… Seeing everyone blaming themselves makes it bloody hard to move on."
Move on.
Closure.
"When we get to the island…" Desmond said, though he almost didn't want to know. "When we rescue Claire - what's gonna happen to you, brother?"
Charlie didn't smile this time. He met Desmond's eyes, steady and without glancing away; Desmond found himself hesitant to get on the helicopter tomorrow. He'd only just got Charlie back. "It'll be okay," Charlie promised, but that wasn't the kind of reassurance he needed.
Charlie put an arm around him and pulled him close, letting Desmond hold onto him in the same way that Penny had. He was solid, warm, here - Desmond didn't think about how he must have looked to the others on the street, hugging someone who wasn't there. Charlie patted his back and murmured quietly, "It'll be okay, I promise. Just- look out for my brother, okay? Make sure he goes back home to Karen and Megan. And Claire, she'll need help too. Visit Hurley if you can. He gets lonely."
"Charlie, don't," Desmond whispered. The time that they should have pulled back came and went unheeded: he still held tightly and Charlie didn't try to pull away. "Everyone still needs you here: you just said it yourself."
"Everyone needs someone, not me in particular," Charlie whispered back. He sounded too calm, too rational. "I'm not scared. I'm not - you shouldn't be either."
"I'm so sorry, brother. I'm-"
Charlie hushed him, warm air by his ear. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? It's not the time for goodbyes."
"Not yet, right?"
Charlie pulled away from him. There was a smile on his face now, but his eyes were wet. "You are going to be fine," he said. The calm front was finally broken. His hand squeezed Desmond's shoulder - that wasn't enough to be reassuring.
A blink of an eye later and he was gone: Desmond stood alone in the street, a painful lump growing in his throat as tears threatened his eyes.
*
Flying made him feel ill. It had ever since the rescue: he and Penny had found a place together just outside of London and he had vowed never to leave his safe little country again. He'd never envisioned sitting in a helicopter flying over the ocean as they searched for the very place he'd vowed never to return to.
Liam's eyes stayed firmly on the perfectly blue water beneath them. Desmond's hands refused to stay still and he tried to recall the sound of Penny's voice to keep himself calm. She had urged him to come back home last night when he'd called her: if everything went according to plan today then by tonight he could be on a flight back to England.
"You'd think Charlie would've come," Liam said over the intercom. Desmond closed his eyes. Even blocked out, the helicopter sounded far too loud. George, their pilot, didn't glance back at them, focused instead on the route they had asked him to fly.
"He'll be here when we need him," Desmond said confidently. Whether Charlie had also paid Liam a visit last night or not was impossible to tell. "You're sure this is the right route?" There was nothing but water below them for miles, no green drops of land waiting.
"Charlie said this way, on this bearing," Liam confirmed.
Desmond nodded sombrely; if Charlie said that this was the right way then Desmond could put all the faith he had in him. George stayed calm and stoic; Desmond didn't care to find out what he thought of his passengers or their odd requests as long as he kept flying where they asked.
"Hey, look sharp," George said - confused. "What's that?" He readjusted his steady grip on the controls, flexing his hands as if shaking away a cramp.
Desmond sat forward to get a better look out of the front of the helicopter - and there it was, their island. It loomed large in the near distance in a spot Desmond would have sworn had been nothing but water seconds ago. Like an optical illusion it appeared out of nowhere, every beach and mountain and jungle exactly as it should have been.
"Right, that's brilliant," Charlie's voice said over the intercom. Desmond spun around to look at the back of the helicopter. Charlie wasn't anywhere in sight, but Liam was grinning brightly. "Make sure the pilot sticks to the exact bearing I gave you. Dan says if you do that you'll get there safely."
"Dan?" Desmond asked, surprised. "You've been talking to Daniel?"
"I've been talking to just about everyone, mate. Don't get jealous." In Charlie's voice he could hear the smirk, even the wink. It was impossible not to smile back. "C'mon you two, focus. Stay strapped in, okay - this might get a little bit bumpy."
Liam checked his seatbelt, tightening it. "Why don't I like the sound of that?"
"Relax," Charlie said, sounding remarkably calm himself. "It's going to be fine."
"Fine. Yeah, fine. I trust you, baby brother," Liam promised, though his hands formed white-knuckled fists and his eyes screwed so tightly shut.
"Thanks." There was a long pause as the island came closer and closer. Desmond was almost convinced that Charlie had left again before he said, "Love you, Liam." The line cut out with a fizz like a flame plopped in water. It sounded too much like a goodbye - but when the helicopter shook, rocking violently, there was no chance for Liam to respond.
George swore under his breath, flicking controls and reading monitors. "Stay on this bearing," Desmond told him. "Don't change direction."
"No matter how tough it gets," Liam added.
The helicopter shook again. There were no clouds and the weather looked so calm, but their helicopter shook like an invisible hand played with it. George swore - fuck and fuck and fuck and fuck - and Desmond thought of Charlie. Charlie wouldn't have brought them here to die.
Like you did to him, his mind whispered, Maybe this is payback, not rescue, maybe this is revenge; Liam seems to think he has something to atone for, doesn't he, and you do too - of course you do too.
The sea faded beneath them until they were flying over land. The green jungle was bright in the sunshine. "Can you land down there?" Desmond yelled over the intercom, pointing down and ahead at the clear, grassy area: was that were Frank had landed? He didn't remember. He couldn't recognise any of it any more.
"I can try," George muttered, barely audible. The helicopter shuddered again like a giant fist slammed into the side of it. Desmond's nails dug into the flesh of his palm to keep himself steady: they'd survive this. He'd see Penny again.
George swore and now Desmond closed his eyes; he couldn't do anything to help. His heart thudded, blood pumped, the world shook. Going down. The world spun as they rushed towards the ground.
It'll be okay, Charlie whispered - a memory, a ghost, a voice, he didn't care. The helicopter's base bumped against the ground, bounced forward, hit again like a stone skimming over water. An alarm screamed from the control centre, lights flashed and -
They stopped.
It all stopped.
Desmond cracked one eye open. Sunlight shone through the helicopter's window: everything was still. Motionless. The blades above them slowed to a stop, moving lazily - Desmond pulled his headset off. "Is everyone okay?" he asked, glancing back at Liam.
Liam raised his head and took a second to look out of the window at their surroundings. Grass and trees and hills - the jungle. The look of wonder on Liam's face was almost enough to allay Desmond's fear of being back here. He released himself from his safety belt and shifted forward. "Can we go out?" Desmond asked George.
The pilot removed his headset and glanced over his shoulder. "Go ahead," he said with a faint smile. "I'm gonna go see if we've got any damage."
Desmond nodded - though he wished they'd brought Sayid along - and tugged on the sliding door of the helicopter. He stepped outside onto the soft grass. His eyes squinted against the light and he raised a hand to shade them.
Liam hopped out behind him, laughing quietly. "So this is it?" he asked. "This is Charlie's island?"
"Yeah," Desmond confirmed. "This is it." Being back here… It was too strange. He felt locked here, trapped, as if he was going to spend another three years underground pushing another button.
Liam roamed, taking long and aimless footsteps around the area. "Where are they then?" he asked. "Where is she? Claire. They've got to be around here somewhere, right?"
"They're coming," Charlie said, appearing beside Desmond. Liam didn't glance at him, didn't see him at all. Looking at Charlie, Desmond was glad that he was hidden from his brother: he looked ill, sweat beading on his forehead. His face was pale, clammy, and he'd shed the leather jacket he'd been wearing each time that Desmond had seen him before. He'd never known that a ghost could fall ill. "I told them. They're on their way here."
"Brother, are you alright?" Desmond asked. He ignored Liam's confused questions. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing. Nothing, I'm…" Charlie sat down despite his protests, plopping straight onto the grass. He breathed like an Olympic swimmer at the end of a race. "It's just hard work."
"And complicated, right?" Desmond knelt down beside him, brushed damp hair from his face. "Take it easy."
"Is that Charlie?" Liam asked. "Is Charlie there?"
Desmond nodded gravely. "He's not doing so good." He knew that Charlie was holding on until he saw Claire rescued - but what happened once a ghost's unfinished business was completed?
"Don't say that," Charlie murmured. "Don't let Liam worry."
"I'm not gonna lie to him." Desmond tried to ignore the frantic look in Liam's eyes when he returned his attention to him. "Charlie's not coming back with us, Liam. Once Claire's rescued…"
"I know," Liam said. "He told me that, I just…"
"It's okay." Desmond promised. It felt like watching Charlie die all over again - and once more Charlie was too accepting, too calm. "It'll all be okay."
"Preaching to the choir, mate. I'm looking forward to it. Moving on. Resting. It's… Bright. Bright lights, everything. The whole…" He frowned and the thought disappeared, faded far away. "They should be getting here soon."
"Yeah," Desmond promised. He found Charlie's hand and held onto it tightly: his palm felt scorching hot. "Not long now."
"The helicopter's fine. Few scratches, that's all," George yelled to them.
Just a matter of waiting, now. He had to ignore Liam constantly urging him to get Charlie to appear to him too - he couldn't, not now. Too hard. Too bloody complicated. Charlie lay down within five minutes, his head resting heavily in Desmond's lap. The helicopter was ready to leave: George sat a small distance away from them, out in the sun with a box of sandwiches.
Charlie noticed the crunching sound of footsteps coming towards them from the jungle before the rest of them were aware of the sound. His head shifted where it rested so that he could watch the exact right spot. "Here they come," he murmured.
The bushes shook and moments later three tanned and tired people appeared: Claire, Sawyer, Juliet. Their clothes were faded and patched and Desmond wanted to move away when he saw their faces. He'd only seen that expression once before: on Danielle's face. She'd spent sixteen years on this island. These three had been here only a fraction of the time. Desmond didn't want to know what had happened to paint their faces like that.
"Where's everyone else?" he asked. Jin, Bernard, Rose, Locke, Daniel…
There was no answer, only a hardened stare. "Where's Charlie?" Claire asked.
Still lying there, head on Desmond's lap, Charlie smiled as he watched her. "I'm gonna- gonna try and go talk to her, Des," he said, voice hushed.
"Guess this is goodbye, then," Desmond said - and the world was dropping away again. "Thank you, for…"
"For coming back to kick your arse into gear?" Charlie grinned and sat up. He pushed worriedly at his hair, wiped a hand over his face like he was getting ready for a date. "No problem. I'm just glad I got the chance to, y'know, set things right. Say… I dunno. Say something to Penny for me, alright?"
Desmond nodded but he didn't trust himself to speak, not even after Charlie disappeared from his sight. He climbed shakily to his feet when he saw Claire's wobbly smile and moved towards Sawyer and Juliet - to say hello to them all over again, to apologise, to try and ignore what they could hear of Claire and Charlie's last conversation.
"We should get over to the helicopter," he suggested as Claire clung to thin air, tears glittering. "The sooner we're out of here the better. This place still gives me the creeps."
"It's not so bad," Juliet said, looking around wistfully. The time that had passed had hardened her voice, cooled it further. It sounded like ice. "Not once you're used to it."
"Bullshit," Sawyer complained, but he kept a wary eye on Claire's whispered conversation with Charlie. "Let's get out of here."
Desmond had to grab onto Liam's arm to pull him to the helicopter and George's half-finished sandwich had to be discarded on the grass. They sat down, strapped themselves in, waited. "Claire!" Juliet called out of the helicopter's side; the blades were beginning to turn. "Claire, please - we need to go."
Claire looked towards them, eyes glassy and glittering, but she seemed unable to let go. Charlie can't move on until she's left the island, Desmond thought - he didn't want to say goodbye any more than she did but it was time. It was finally time: Charlie was ready.
"Claire," he yelled. "Claire, get in here. It's what Charlie wants."
She paused again, face tilted away from them as her hair was tucked behind her ear as if by the wind, and Desmond would have given the world to be able to see Charlie, to hear what he said to place that little smile on her face - and, most importantly, to finally get her to leave.
She ran to the helicopter, ducked low to avoid the spinning blades. Tumbling inside she found her seat, strapped herself in and pulled on one of the headsets. She brushed away tears from her face with the back of her hand, refusing to fall apart. Desmond looked towards her, caught her eyes; she nodded at him, sniffed, and that was enough. I'm okay, it seemed to promise. I'm going to be okay.
That was the most they could hope for, Desmond told himself as he looked out of the window.
"Have we got everyone?" George called over the intercom. It was confirmed by Juliet, calm and collected: they were the last survivors. The helicopter took off.
Desmond tuned out the conversation between Liam and the others, the introductions and explanations as he watched the island becoming smaller as the helicopter rose - up and up. He looked across the grass, right to the tree line, for any sign of Charlie, any last glimpse of his friend, one goodbye.
Nothing, nothing at all - only a bright flash of sunlight when they left the island behind. It disappeared from sight just as it had appeared before. Staring at the blank sea Desmond leaned back in his seat and felt a years-old tension vanish, releasing him. It was over, done, finally finished. Claire would be reunited with her son; Juliet with her sister; Sawyer with Kate. No need to go back.
They flew away and Desmond smiled, eyes closing in relief: the island would finally let them move on.