The Paradox - Chapter Three
Title: The Paradox - Chapter Three
Authors: falafel_fiction, sapphire_child and pacejunkie
Character’s: Charlie/Claire, Liam, Penny, cameos from most of the rest of the Losties and numerous flashback characters
Rating: PG
Summary: Charlie chases a Scottish man through the rainy streets of London, which leads him to a fateful meeting in an antique shop. Six years later, he starts to experience strange dreams about being stranded on a mysterious island. As he discovers more about this island and its occupants, he begins to realise that he is living out two different lives simultaneously. What will happen when these two existences finally collide?
Disclaimer: Lost doesn’t belong to any of the three of us (sadly). The Paradox theory belongs to cylune9 and pacejunkie.
Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two
~*~
It took a long time before Charlie could begin his search for Claire’s relatives in earnest. She had been suspiciously absent from his dreams lately - and he’d been finding himself moping in his waking hours too because he was so worried about her.
He didn’t know what had happened to her after he’d been hung but she hadn’t returned to the caves or the beach camp and he felt edgy and upset not knowing if she was safe or not. Each time he fell asleep he hoped desperately that she’d be in his next dream, smiling again like she had the first night that he had met her. It seemed like years ago that he’d offered her his blanket and reassured her that everything was going to be okay.
Liam, oblivious to his brother’s private anguish, believed that the downswing in Charlie’s moods was due to the fact that he had refused to lend him his car. Charlie had invented a story about going sightseeing and getting to know the neighbourhood to cover up his real intentions - to seek out Claire’s relatives. Liam however had flat out refused to lend it to him on the grounds that he was worried that Charlie might still not be in total control of his body yet and he didn’t want to be responsible for Charlie hurting himself if he lost control of the car.
Charlie had grudgingly decided to be patient - there was no way that he was going to catch taxis all over Sydney on his brother’s dime to try and find Claire’s relatives. But it was incredibly frustrating to know that they could be living just down the street from him and he didn’t even know.
The days dragged so rather than let himself stew on his worries about Claire, Charlie instead began to devote his time to research. He would barricade himself in Liam’s office and pore over the internet for hours, trying to find new information on the passengers of 815. He also found Richard Malkin’s ad in the Yellow Pages and cross referenced the mobile number on it with the list of Malkin’s in the White Pages. When he found one that matched he added the address to the bottom of the list of places that he had to visit.
On top of this, he somehow found the time to continue with his methadone treatment and his psych appointments, looked after Meghan when he was requested to, cooked meals and helped Karen out as much as he could...but he still felt restless. His dreams reflected this too. He spent hours gathering firewood, spearing fish and picking fruit but the one thing he really wanted to do - find Claire - was being denied from him.
Nearly two weeks since he’d woken up from his dream of being hung, Charlie decided to go back and re-read his dream diary, hoping to glean some new insight about what exactly was happening on the island. He settled down in the living room while Liam and Karen watched the news. Meghan was curled up next to him on the sofa sucking her thumb blissfully as he flipped open the little journal he’d bought.
To his intense surprise however, it was filled with lines and lines of unfamiliar handwriting, little squiggles and doodles drawn in the margins. He scanned quickly over a page that contained a whole list of odds and ends and then flipped forward, pausing when he saw his own name scrawled up near the top of the page.
“…realized I really like Charlie. There’s something about him that’s just so adorable and sweet. Even in a scary place like this Charlie makes me feel safe.”
“Liam?” he called excitedly, his eyes fixed on the page. “Have a read of this!”
Liam leant over obligingly and took the diary from him.
“Can you see it?” Charlie asked eagerly.
“See what?” Liam said, confused. “It’s just your dream diary Charlie.”
“Wait-what?” Charlie snatched it back and riffled through the pages frantically but they were all filled up with his own untidy scrawl. “No...it was...there was...”
“What exactly did you think you saw in there?” Liam frowned.
“I thought there was something written in here by somebody else...” Charlie muttered, still flipping pages frantically. “I must’ve...been imagining things or...”
Liam shrugged but he still looked confused as he turned his attention back to the television again.
That night, Claire appeared in Charlie’s dreams again - scared out of her wits, apparently unable to recognise anyone, but alive. Despite the basic feeling of negativity behind his dream, Charlie woke up feeling truly hopeful for the first time in days - or at least very determined. He clattered downstairs jubilantly and dropped a quick kiss on Meghan’s head before plopping down into the chair across from Liam and leaning forward.
“Liam,” he said seriously. “I want to borrow a car today.”
Liam looked up at him warily and Charlie continued on before his brother could say no.
“Look,” he said imploringly. “I know you were worried before about me having an attack of the shakes or something and wrapping myself around a power pole but I’ve been feeling really good withdrawal wise the past couple of days. And you know, I think the main reason I’ve been getting so bloody depressed is that I’m not going anywhere at the moment. I mean, the only people I’m interacting with are you guys and my shrink and all the other messed up buggers in the rehab clinic.”
Liam didn’t say anything and so Charlie pressed on.
“I think I need to get back out into the world again - go take a walk down the beach or go check out the local shops or something. See some new faces you know? I’d like to go into the city and do some sightseeing too - go check out the bridge and the Opera house and all that other touristy bollocks we never got to do when we came on tour.
“So,” he finished hopefully. “What d’you say?”
Liam frowned, considering and Karen took the opportunity to chime in with her two cents.
“Oh go on Liam, he can take my car for today. I was going to catch up with Laura anyway - I’m sure she’ll be able to pick Meghan and me up and bring us back home again. Some fresh air will do him good. And,” She smiled at Charlie who grinned back at her, surprised but pleased that she was backing him up. “We can give him your mobile phone too. That way if he gets lost or we need to get a hold of him we can.”
“What if I miss a call?” Liam protested.
“Charlie is perfectly capable of ringing your work mobile and passing a message onto you Liam,” Karen said sternly. “Go on. He’ll be fine. It’ll get him out from under my feet too.”
“Exactly,” Charlie agreed readily. “I’m surprised she hasn’t gotten sick of me yet to be honest. Do you really want to be responsible for your wife having a mental breakdown from too much exposure to me?”
Liam’s face split into a grin. “All right,” he conceded. “You can go for a spin today and then we’ll see how you go.”
Charlie beamed and cuffed his brother affectionately on the side of the head. “Thanks Li,” he said, grinning widely before turning to his sister-in-law. “And thank you Karen.”
Karen smiled back at him. “Just mind you don’t scratch the paintwork Charlie,” she teased. “Or I’ll have to get Liam to pay to get it redone and you know how much he’d love that...”
“Sod off!” Liam laughed. “If he scratches your car he can bloody pay for it himself!”
Charlie shrugged. “Just put it on my tab. I’m probably indebted to you both for life as it is.”
“Oh I wouldn’t say life just yet,” Liam grinned. “But definitely until you’re at least seventy.”
~*~
Karen’s car was almost brand new and it drove like an absolute dream on almost no petrol - which was just as well really because it was heading into late afternoon and Charlie had yet to find any one of Claire’s relatives on his long list of Littleton’s.
So far during his travels he had discovered some very interesting characters; including a Kevin Littleton who was about as large as a small killer whale and reeked of cheese, a June Littleton who was well on sixty and living with a woman half her age, and an entire family (or perhaps horde was a better word) of Littleton’s whose children all seemed to be wearing the same matching outfit.
Unfortunately, not one of these or any of the others he had visited had ever heard of a Claire Littleton before and Charlie was beginning to get a bit fed up with what he had originally thought of as a clever plan. This had all seemed so much easier in the planning stages than it did now.
L. Littleton was the fifteenth person on his list. She lived alone and Charlie was quite worried that she’d just end up being some dear old lady who would probably be terrified by his scruffy self appearing on her front doorstep. When she opened her front door to him however, he had to catch himself from blurting out something stupid.
Her eyes were just like Claire’s - the same shape, the same unusual transparent shade of blue. And he could see other similarities too, the eyebrows, the face shape…Charlie’s heart thundered in his chest. Had he actually found her mother? She looked just about the right age…
“If you’re selling something…” she began warningly, one hand poised to slam the door shut in his face.
“No, no I’m selling anything,” Charlie said desperately. “I’m here because I’m looking for some…information.” The woman paused to show that she was listening and Charlie continued carefully. He’d had more than one door slammed in his face already today. “I’m trying to find the next of kin for a girl called Claire Littleton - does that name mean anything to you?”
The woman froze and her face seemed to crumple momentarily before she smoothed it back out again and cleared her throat.
“Who wants to know?”
“Are you...her mum?” Charlie asked tentatively.
“I was her Aunt,” the woman said flatly. “My name’s Lindsey. Who the hell are you?”
“Charlie Pace,” he said, trying hard to suppress his joy at having finally found someone who had known her. “I was wondering...can I talk to you about your niece for a moment?”
“Well that depends on what it’s about,” Lindsey said shortly. “You said your name was what - Charlie?”
“Yes.”
“Not Thomas?”
“Absolutely not,” Charlie assured her.
Lindsey pursed her lips for a moment and then sighed and stepped aside to let him into the house.
“I should warn you,” she told him as she shut the front door. “I know how to defend myself. So if you’re here to try and rob me...”
“I’m not here to rob you,” Charlie refrained from rolling his eyes only with great difficulty. “Just to ask a few questions.”
“Questions huh?” she led him into the lounge room and gestured him into a stiff looking armchair whilst she stood and crossed her arms at him. “What sort of questions? You’re not from Oceanic are you? Because I already told you people…”
“I’m not from Oceanic,” Charlie interrupted smoothly. “I wanted to ask you some questions about Claire.”
“And how did you know Claire?” she asked sharply.
“I do know Claire,” Charlie corrected her without thinking.
“She’s dead,” Lindsey snapped. “She died in that plane crash and don’t you try to tell me otherwise.”
“I don’t think she is dead,” Charlie said, leaning forward earnestly. “Listen, Lindsey…”
“No, you listen to me,” Lindsey snatched a photograph off a side table and thrust it into Charlie’s hands. “My niece got herself knocked up, she got herself on a plane - Lord knows why - and it crashed and now she and that baby are both dead. End of story.”
Charlie stared blankly at the photograph in his hands. A sullen looking teenage girl with black hair stood between two smiling blonde women - Lindsey and a woman who Charlie could only assume was Claire’s mother.
“That’s the last photo that got taken before she crashed her mother’s car and turned my sister Carole into a vegetable,” Lindsey said crushingly and Charlie froze and looked up, horrified. “Claire was an awful kid, a ratty teenager - and she didn’t get much better after that either. I didn’t see much of her after she moved out of here and I’m glad.”
“So did you have any contact with her at all before she got on that plane?” Charlie asked desperately.
Lindsey’s lip curled. “She rang me up about four months ago, grovelling for a place to sleep. I told her to look elsewhere if she was looking for charity.” She shook her head. “You let them put one toe in the door…”
“You know, considering she’s your niece you don’t seem all that bothered about not helping her out when she needed you,” Charlie said, his voice rising angrily. “What if she didn’t have anywhere else to go?”
“I-I well,” Lindsey spluttered. “It would have just been a waste of my time trying to help her anyway. And I wasn’t about to get lumped with raising some bastard kid of hers while she lazed about and earned a pittance!”
“You’re wrong,” Charlie said defensively. “She’s going to make an excellent mother. I can tell.”
Lindsey merely stared at him. “What are you talking about? She died. She’s dead.”
“Well...I don’t think that she is dead actually.” Charlie said slowly. When Lindsey continued to stare at him he sighed and finally resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to tell her. “Look, you’ll probably think I’m crazy but...I was supposed to get on the same plane that your niece was on - only I didn’t. And ever since then I’ve been having these dreams about this island...”
Lindsey gaped at him, outraged. “Get out,” she said. “Get out of my house.”
“No, wait!” Charlie said pleadingly as she shooed him out into the hallway. “Please - if you could just hear me out...”
“I’ve heard enough,” Lindsey snarled, pushing him bodily out onto the porch. “You come here - into my home, insinuate that I’m nothing more than a heartless bitch and then you tell me that my niece isn’t dead at all and that you’ve been having some sort of…of psychic visions of her?”
“Um...” Charlie shuffled his feet nervously. “Well actually I’m pretty sure what’s happening is that there are actually two versions of me existing in parallel timelines or something and...”
Lindsey slammed the door in his face and Charlie sighed heavily.
“...I’m living out two separate lives at the same time.”
He stood there and stared helplessly at Lindsey’s door for a moment longer before heading back to the car. He didn’t think that he was going to get any more help from her. He’d learnt enough as it was.
It wasn’t until he went to open the driver’s side door that he realised that in Lindsey’s haste to extricate him from her home, he had accidentally stolen her picture of Claire. For a moment he hesitated, wondering if he should leave it on the front porch but then he shook his head and climbed into the car, putting the frame carefully on the passenger side seat. Lindsey wouldn’t miss it - he was certain of that.
~*~
A handmade shovel pushed deep into the sand beside a body wrapped in a plastic tarpaulin. No emotion Charlie, no emotion. Blank from anger, blank from rage - don’t think, don’t feel and you’ll be okay - blank, blank, blank…
The curly haired man was beside him, impossibly large in the early dawn light. “Are you all right?”
No I’m not all right.
“You’re not alone,” Charlie recognised the Arab man from the first night on the beach - the one who had wondered why nobody had come for them yet. “Don’t pretend to be.”
“You wanna go for that walk now?”
Claire smiled up at him and nodded.
“Sure.”
Crossing a narrow rope bridge. Pelting through the jungle. A campfire at night.
“It’s not going to want me!” Claire bawled through the darkness but Charlie couldn’t see her - could only hear her. “It knows I don’t want it, that I was gonna give it away...”
But then the shrill cry of a newborn baby broke through the thick night air and Claire’s voice joyously began to cry out, repeating the same thing over and over again...
“I have a son!”
Charlie opened his eyes and reached automatically for his dream journal, Claire’s voice still echoing in his ears.
Claire had her baby - it’s a boy just like she thought.
He paused for a moment and then added;
When she was in labour(?) she said that the baby wouldn’t want her because she was going to give it up. I need to find out why she saw Richard Malkin and what he said to her. I’m pretty sure he was one of the last people to see her alive. Maybe he can tell me why she got on the plane?