So my muse has like, exploded.
I’ve been icon-ing and writing non-stop since last Friday and I just can’t stop. Which is good and bad I suppose. Look out on my journal for icons, manips, headers, a C/C fanmix and a multitude of new fanfictions. And speaking of fanfictions, here’s my 97th Lost fanfiction to date. Major spoilers for the season finale in this - for God’s sake, don’t read if you haven’t seen it.
Title: The World Is Quiet Here
Rating/warnings: PG
Genre: angst, supernatural
Spoilers: through to the end of season three
Summary: Starting from the last moments of his life, Charlie starts to come to terms with his own demise and has an interesting post-mortem conversation with an unexpected passenger from flight 815...
Disclaimer: nearly a full hundred fanfictions now and I don’t even get an honorary mention. Fanfiction writers are severely unloved.
~*~
It might have been slow but the end was surprisingly painless - and for that, Charlie was thankful.
The world was quiet as his lungs filled slowly with water. At the same time the pressure on his eardrums became less and less and the edges of his mind seemed to melt away into nothingness. His body followed suit, starting at his fingers and toes and working up his limbs into the trunk of his body until finally, something cold touched his heart and it stilled.
‘You all right there son?’
White sand. Blue ocean. Blue sky. The waves were beating a familiar tattoo against the shore.
And there was a man - a man with grey hair sitting beside him.
‘Where am I?’
‘Wherever you want to be I suppose,’ the man stretched languidly. His suit was immaculate - wasn’t it uncomfortable for him here on the beach? ‘You’re here and I’m here. We’re all here together. There are others as well - you’d probably recognise a few.’
Charlie was momentarily dumbfounded until he began to realise what had happened.
‘I did it,’ he said - completely gob smacked. ‘I died doing it, didn’t I?’
‘Don’t know what you did but yeah, I guess you did die doing it,’ the mans lips curve into a sudden smile. ‘We need to find a new consonant - we’re overworking the D’s.’
There is a moment to contemplate the enormity of this moment but then habit takes over and Charlie reaches a hand towards the man beside him.
‘I’m Charlie,’
The man hesitates, looking at Charlie’s outstretched hand and then takes it. ‘Not much point shaking hands boy - but then old habits die hard eh?’ Charlie looks at him pointedly and the man finally concedes and offers his name. ‘Christian.’
‘And how’d you get here Christian?’
‘Myocardial infarction,’ Christian says glibly and then laughs mirthlessly. ‘At least I’m pretty sure that’s what happened. I didn’t exactly get a copy of my autopsy report.’
Charlie nods, then chipped in conversationally, ‘Well I drowned.’
‘Well that would have been fun,’ Christian offered dryly. Charlie shrugged, growing thoughtful.
‘It didn’t hurt or anything. I always thought I’d hate to go by drowning but it was actually pretty peaceful you know?’
‘Well yes because your brain was shutting down from a lack of oxygen,’ Christian pointed out. ‘And whilst discussing our deaths is fun and all, I’ve actually got something I’d like to ask you about…’
Christian paused and Charlie prompted him gently.
‘Yes?’
‘Well… it’s two things really…’
‘Well… why don’t you ask me then?’
A shaky intake of breath.
‘You know Jack?’
Charlie raised an eyebrow. ‘Well if you’re talking about the super-crazy, energizer-bunny, I-am-super-surgeon Jack who somehow managed to beat the life back into me with his bare hands then yeah I do.’
‘He’s still okay?’ Christian had toned his voice down into something sedate but Charlie could hear the relief beneath it. He stretched for a moment, imitating Christian’s earlier gesture before answering.
‘Well,’ he sighed. ‘He was drugged and kidnapped and tortured and he still didn’t manage to get off the island we crash landed on but apart from that he’s doing okay. He’s still alive in any case.’
Christian nodded, relieved, and Charlie waited patiently for the second question.
‘There was another person too - a girl,’ at this, his voice gave a very distinct wobble. ‘The others who came before you, one of them mentioned that there was a girl on the plane - an Australian girl. I’m pretty sure that she’s actually my-’
‘Claire,’ Charlie said instantly. A pang of something shot through him as he said the name - the first feeling he’d had since… since… ‘What about her?’
‘Claire Littleton?’
‘Yes. Again, why?’
Christian sighed and pressed his hands over his eyes, a sudden and unknown agony afflicting him. ‘It is her. Oh God…’
A combination of incredulity and curiosity makes Charlie lean forward. ‘Did you know her?’
Another sigh and the hands fall away. The eyes are open now - sad and pale and blue.
‘She’s my daughter.’
Charlie blinks.
‘Well that’s just… okay then.’
‘Is she okay?’ Christian presses and suddenly he’s gripping Charlie’s arm. ‘Is her baby safe?’
‘I-yes she’s okay - but doesn’t that… she’s your daughter?’
‘And Jack’s half sister, yes. Tell me about her.’
Charlie ran a bewildered hand through his hair. ‘Wow. Well Claire… she was my… she was…’ he drew in a shuddering breath. ‘I loved her. I loved her and her son both.’
‘So you are the one who was looking after her then!’ Christian looked inordinately delighted. ‘I’d say I’m pleased to meet you but under the circumstances…’
‘Who told you about me?’ Charlie frowned.
Christian waved an impatient hand. ‘Some dark haired bloke. Big eyes. Owned a business - thinks he’s the best damned thing since sliced bread.’
Charlie rolled his eyes. ‘Boone. That git - he always had his eye on Claire.’
‘But she’s okay?’ Christian urged. ‘You took care of her?’
‘I died so that she and her son could be rescued. Does that answer your question?’
Christian took a moment of pause before placing a consoling hand on Charlie’s shoulder. ‘I could never have asked for anything more for her. Thank you.’
Charlie was silent as his emotions swelled inside him and broke gently against his heart in mimicry of the waves before him. Two months ago he would have been feeling bitter at being parted so swiftly from his life but now all he felt was pride for what he’d done.
He had saved them - both Claire and Aaron - and he was beginning to fell like somehow he’d managed to save himself somewhere along the way too….
Christian was still speaking and Charlie came back to the conversation quite abruptly. ‘…Thank you Charlie. Thank you for taking care of my daughter - for loving her.’ he smiled ruefully at the younger man. ‘I was never very good at either.’
Charlie nodded and a smile curled around his lips. ‘There’s no need to thank me mate - it was an absolute pleasure.’
Title: The World Is Quiet Here
Rating/warnings: PG
Genre: angst, supernatural
Spoilers: through to the end of season three
Summary: Starting from the last moments of his life, Charlie starts to come to terms with his own demise and has an interesting post-mortem conversation with an unexpected passenger from flight 815...
Disclaimer: nearly a full hundred fanfictions now and I don’t even get an honorary mention. Fanfiction writers are severely unloved.
~*~
It might have been slow but the end was surprisingly painless - and for that, Charlie was thankful.
The world was quiet as his lungs filled slowly with water. At the same time the pressure on his eardrums became less and less and the edges of his mind seemed to melt away into nothingness. His body followed suit, starting at his fingers and toes and working up his limbs into the trunk of his body until finally, something cold touched his heart and it stilled.
‘You all right there son?’
White sand. Blue ocean. Blue sky. The waves were beating a familiar tattoo against the shore.
And there was a man - a man with grey hair sitting beside him.
‘Where am I?’
‘Wherever you want to be I suppose,’ the man stretched languidly. His suit was immaculate - wasn’t it uncomfortable for him here on the beach? ‘You’re here and I’m here. We’re all here together. There are others as well - you’d probably recognise a few.’
Charlie was momentarily dumbfounded until he began to realise what had happened.
‘I did it,’ he said - completely gob smacked. ‘I died doing it, didn’t I?’
‘Don’t know what you did but yeah, I guess you did die doing it,’ the mans lips curve into a sudden smile. ‘We need to find a new consonant - we’re overworking the D’s.’
There is a moment to contemplate the enormity of this moment but then habit takes over and Charlie reaches a hand towards the man beside him.
‘I’m Charlie,’
The man hesitates, looking at Charlie’s outstretched hand and then takes it. ‘Not much point shaking hands boy - but then old habits die hard eh?’ Charlie looks at him pointedly and the man finally concedes and offers his name. ‘Christian.’
‘And how’d you get here Christian?’
‘Myocardial infarction,’ Christian says glibly and then laughs mirthlessly. ‘At least I’m pretty sure that’s what happened. I didn’t exactly get a copy of my autopsy report.’
Charlie nods, then chipped in conversationally, ‘Well I drowned.’
‘Well that would have been fun,’ Christian offered dryly. Charlie shrugged, growing thoughtful.
‘It didn’t hurt or anything. I always thought I’d hate to go by drowning but it was actually pretty peaceful you know?’
‘Well yes because your brain was shutting down from a lack of oxygen,’ Christian pointed out. ‘And whilst discussing our deaths is fun and all, I’ve actually got something I’d like to ask you about…’
Christian paused and Charlie prompted him gently.
‘Yes?’
‘Well… it’s two things really…’
‘Well… why don’t you ask me then?’
A shaky intake of breath.
‘You know Jack?’
Charlie raised an eyebrow. ‘Well if you’re talking about the super-crazy, energizer-bunny, I-am-super-surgeon Jack who somehow managed to beat the life back into me with his bare hands then yeah I do.’
‘He’s still okay?’ Christian had toned his voice down into something sedate but Charlie could hear the relief beneath it. He stretched for a moment, imitating Christian’s earlier gesture before answering.
‘Well,’ he sighed. ‘He was drugged and kidnapped and tortured and he still didn’t manage to get off the island we crash landed on but apart from that he’s doing okay. He’s still alive in any case.’
Christian nodded, relieved, and Charlie waited patiently for the second question.
‘There was another person too - a girl,’ at this, his voice gave a very distinct wobble. ‘The others who came before you, one of them mentioned that there was a girl on the plane - an Australian girl. I’m pretty sure that she’s actually my-’
‘Claire,’ Charlie said instantly. A pang of something shot through him as he said the name - the first feeling he’d had since… since… ‘What about her?’
‘Claire Littleton?’
‘Yes. Again, why?’
Christian sighed and pressed his hands over his eyes, a sudden and unknown agony afflicting him. ‘It is her. Oh God…’
A combination of incredulity and curiosity makes Charlie lean forward. ‘Did you know her?’
Another sigh and the hands fall away. The eyes are open now - sad and pale and blue.
‘She’s my daughter.’
Charlie blinks.
‘Well that’s just… okay then.’
‘Is she okay?’ Christian presses and suddenly he’s gripping Charlie’s arm. ‘Is her baby safe?’
‘I-yes she’s okay - but doesn’t that… she’s your daughter?’
‘And Jack’s half sister, yes. Tell me about her.’
Charlie ran a bewildered hand through his hair. ‘Wow. Well Claire… she was my… she was…’ he drew in a shuddering breath. ‘I loved her. I loved her and her son both.’
‘So you are the one who was looking after her then!’ Christian looked inordinately delighted. ‘I’d say I’m pleased to meet you but under the circumstances…’
‘Who told you about me?’ Charlie frowned.
Christian waved an impatient hand. ‘Some dark haired bloke. Big eyes. Owned a business - thinks he’s the best damned thing since sliced bread.’
Charlie rolled his eyes. ‘Boone. That git - he always had his eye on Claire.’
‘But she’s okay?’ Christian urged. ‘You took care of her?’
‘I died so that she and her son could be rescued. Does that answer your question?’
Christian took a moment of pause before placing a consoling hand on Charlie’s shoulder. ‘I could never have asked for anything more for her. Thank you.’
Charlie was silent as his emotions swelled inside him and broke gently against his heart in mimicry of the waves before him. Two months ago he would have been feeling bitter at being parted so swiftly from his life but now all he felt was pride for what he’d done.
He had saved them - both Claire and Aaron - and he was beginning to fell like somehow he’d managed to save himself somewhere along the way too….
Christian was still speaking and Charlie came back to the conversation quite abruptly. ‘…Thank you Charlie. Thank you for taking care of my daughter - for loving her.’ he smiled ruefully at the younger man. ‘I was never very good at either.’
Charlie nodded and a smile curled around his lips. ‘There’s no need to thank me mate - it was an absolute pleasure.’