Charlie/Claire: "Sacrifices"
Title: Sacrifices
Rating: K+ (PG)
Genre(s): Drama
Fandom: Lost
Pairing/Characters: Charlie/Claire, Hurley, Christian, Aaron
Word Count: 3,665
Status: Complete
Spoilers: throughout S4
Summary: After Charlie's death, Claire copes the only way she can with the loss. But as certain circumstances take place afterward to herself and the island, she discovers that what she's lost is not indeed gone forever.
A/N: My first Charlie/Claire fic! I love the ship and felt it was fitting to have this be my last LOST fic before S5 starts up.
Please Read: This fic does contain some wild speculation about what happened to Claire towards the end of S4. Personally, I hope this won't be true for her character on the show, but I felt it fit with the plot. Also, Kate's dream about Claire in TNPLH doesn't apply to this story; I'm gonna pretend it truly was a dream and just Kate's conscience talking. As for how different Charlie looks when he appears to Hurley, that doesn't apply in this fic either. Other than that, I really enjoyed writing this fic and hope everyone enjoys this as well! :D
Sacrifices
Six days after Charlie’s death, he appears to her.
She had asked Hurley to watch Aaron for a while so she could take a nap, but it was merely an excuse just to have some true alone time.
In actuality, she’s not tired at all.
She doesn’t think she has ever been less tired in her entire life.
She tries to act normal around the others, to act like she’s okay, but she’s not, she knows she’s not, and she thinks that the others kind of know it too, because they look at her out of the corners of their eyes sometimes like they think she’ll break down at any moment.
Because they know. They know how close she was to Charlie, how much he meant to her, but they never speak about him, not in front of her, at least.
She’s grateful of that.
Because she’s afraid that if someone utters Charlie’s name she won’t be able to hold herself together anymore, won’t be able to push away the screaming inside with fake smiles and pointless conversations about how good the coffee tastes and how odd it is to finally sleep on beds.
Aaron has crying fits sometimes, and his fists will flail in front of him to feel a face that’s no longer there, and she can’t help but envy him, because he can cry for someone that he wants back, someone that he’s lost, and no one will think it’s for that reason at all.
She hasn’t cried again since she did when Hurley had tearfully informed her that Charlie died.
She’s afraid that if she does, she’ll never stop.
So all she does is pick up her son as he wails, hold him against her chest as her hand moves up and down his small back soothingly, and realize that his wails mirror her own in her mind.
She breaks suddenly out of her reverie as Hurley’s willing hands take Aaron from her and she thanks him for agreeing to do this for her.
“No problem,” Hurley shakes it off with a smile as he turns toward the door. “I’ll be in my house playing a game with Sawyer and Locke. Take a nice long nap.”
She smiles one of her fake smiles in return and the door shuts with a snap.
She simply stands there for a moment, then reluctantly walks down the hallway to her bedroom.
She sits on her bed, staring around the room, the silence almost too hard to bear.
After another moment, she can’t think of what else to do, so she lies back on the bed, sighing deeply, and stares up at the ceiling.
The fatigue washes over her all of a sudden, and the second she gives in and closes her eyes, she drifts off to sleep.
It feels like merely minutes have gone by when she wakes, but it’s very clear to her that something’s wrong, and she thinks she hears the faint crack of gunfire outside.
There’s a slight stirring by the door and she whips her head around, her eyes falling on Charlie, who looks the same as she had last seen him.
She’s frozen with shock, her hands clenching the covers, but he doesn’t move towards her at all.
He just smiles at her.
“It’s going to be all right, Claire,” He says softly, and his voice is layered with confidence and reassurance.
But before she can even believe what she is seeing, or even try to utter a word, a roar of sound invades her ears and everything becomes black.
-
Someone’s yelling her name and she’s lying on something sharp and uncomfortable and she feels something draped over her body, but then it’s pulled hastily away from her and the sun shines hot on her face.
She opens her eyes a little and someone is hovering over her, saying her name again, but the sound of it is almost distorted and far away, and the person looks oddly like--
“Charlie?” She mumbles quietly, lifting up a hand that feels so heavy towards his face, but then she blinks and he’s gone, and she realizes it’s Sawyer just as he scoops her up into his arms.
-
Charlie doesn’t appear to her again but her father does, and she stares at him across the fire as he cradles her son, his grandchild, to his chest.
He smiles warmly at her and tells her everything.
He tells her that he is dead, that his body was being transported back to the States by his son and her brother, Jack (she hitches a breath at this), and how now things have changed and things will have to be done.
Then he tells her that she is dead.
Her stomach lurches and a ringing silence passes until she says, “How could I be? I’m still walking around and talking, aren’t I?”
He shakes his head at her, that soft smile still on his face. “But I’m here also. And you saw Charlie and he spoke to you, didn’t he?”
She wonders briefly if she has truly gone insane and is hallucinating, but there has been some sort of monster on this island (she remembers its presence the first night of the crash and how she had witnessed it violently rip trees apart), and if there is a monster here, is it so far-fetched to believe that there are ghosts or spirits too?
She always suspected this island was special anyway.
But accepting that possibility would also mean she would have to accept that she’s dead.
Her father waits patiently for her to speak again, and a lengthy amount of seconds pass until she finally does.
“So that explosion,” She swallows thickly, vividly remembering how everything had suddenly gone black. “It killed me?”
“Yes,” Her father answers, his eyes, so like her own, boring into hers. “It did.”
She takes a deep breath, then continues. “So what happens now?”
The smile melts off his face as he looks down at Aaron again, and when he looks back up at her the look on his face is sad, and she knows that he’s going to tell her something she won’t like to hear.
“Things have changed now, Claire,” He declares, his voice so low now that it’s almost hard to hear. “You are dead, but Aaron isn’t. And you know what you have to do.”
Her heart sinks down to her stomach because she does know.
“Jack will take him,” Her father continues. “They both, along with others, will get rescued. Aaron will have a better life.”
At this he stands up, still holding Aaron carefully in his arms, and she gets up too, his words making her feel numb all of a sudden.
He approaches her and she takes Aaron back into her arms.
She looks down at her son, who has his eyes closed, only stirring a little when she took him in her arms, and after a moment, her throat tight, she looks back up at her father and nods.
He nods back at her, somber, then gestures for her to follow him.
She lags behind him as he walks slowly, but purposefully, ahead of her, holding her son tightly to her chest.
Then her father stops, and turns to face her.
“Leave him here,” He says. “He will be found.”
Slowly, agonizingly, she sets Aaron down on some leaves in the shelter of trees, and as she bends down to kiss him on the forehead her father puts a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“In time, you will understand that this was the right thing to do.”
She thinks of Jack fleetingly, of how he was the most responsible, reasonable man she has ever met, and how if she could choose anyone to raise her child and keep him safe, it would be him, her own brother.
Her father then leads her away, and she goes with him willingly, and it’s that thought that keeps one foot moving in front of the other.
-
She stays in the cabin, and never ventures out of it, because now there is nothing out there for her to want to see.
But there are others who come in.
Locke even came in once, and she had listened to the conversation he had with her father, a conversation that ended with the declaration that the island had to be moved.
Her father tells her that it has to be done to keep the island safe, and there are times that he talks about the island like it’s a person, but whenever she inquires why, her father says that someday, when it is the right time, she will know the truth.
Her father doesn’t stay in the cabin much, for he spends a lot of time wandering around the island, and sometimes it relieves her, for it lets her be free of his concerned eyes and have some time alone to grieve.
She hasn’t cried yet.
She doesn’t know why, but after thinking on it, she supposes that it must be because her sorrow runs too deep to be expressed by tears.
The fifth time that her father goes out, however, she is not alone.
Because Charlie appears for the second time.
The door of the cabin opens and he walks in, and it’s like he had never died at all.
He only has eyes for her, and after he says her name, she replies back his own.
And it’s like they were never separated.
He brings a chair close to where she’s sitting in her own and sits on it.
The sunlight filters through the cabin’s small windows and shines on his face.
He gives her a long, searching gaze, and before she knows it, before she can even comprehend what’s happening, the tears pour down her face.
He swiftly moves forward, his arms encircling her body, and she holds onto him, her face resting against his neck as she sobs.
“He’s gone,” She whispers brokenly, the first time she has addressed this subject in days. “Aaron’s gone, they took him.”
“I know, Claire,” Charlie replies, just as sadly as her. “I know.”
She grasps his shirt, holding the material in her balled up fists as she clutches his solid body as if she would die a second time if she ever let go, and he holds her back just as tightly, just as determinedly.
She got Charlie back, but their family is still not complete.
-
Her father tells her a little while later that night, after Charlie has disappeared into the darkness with the promise of returning soon, that moving the island had serious consequences on the island itself, and the people still on it.
She can sense that things are different outside; sometimes she hears things out there, hears voices that belong to the people that she had once known, and people she doesn’t know.
She hears yelling and gunshots and the rustling of the plants and grass as people run through them.
Outside, danger dwells.
But she is not afraid.
She doesn’t think she could ever be anymore.
“You knew,” She says to her father a few hours later. “That’s why you told me to let Jack take Aaron away from here, because you knew this would happen.”
Her father nods at her, but says nothing, and even though her heart aches more and more with each passing day as she acknowledges her son’s absence, she can’t help but feel grateful and assured that her son is happy and safe where he is.
-
Her father leaves the cabin again and Charlie comes back in, just like he said he would.
But she never doubted him, not for one second.
When her eyes take in the guitar he’s holding against him, a smile breaks free from her.
“What are you going to play for me today?” She inquires, and he smiles back at her, sitting down in the chair across from her.
“Anything you wish,” He replies, so charming, just like he always was.
“Play something you think I’ll like,” She says, and rests her head against her hand on the hard, wooden table.
After a second or two he begins to play, and she starts at the melody.
It’s the song he wrote for Aaron, after he was born.
Every night, when she put Aaron in his crib, Charlie would play this song, and Aaron would immediately fall into a peaceful slumber.
She listens, watching Charlie play it with ease, and the gratitude towards him overwhelms her, because he understands.
-
“Did you know?” She asks quietly one night, looking up at him after the lullaby, yet again, is complete.
He looks back at her, questioning. “Know what?”
“That day, when you volunteered to go to the Looking Glass and told me not to worry about you,” She elaborates, vividly remembering that day, the tender kiss he had given her and the inexplicable urge she had felt afterward to call him back as he walked away, “ Did you know you were going to die?”
He’s silent for a moment, but she waits patiently, and finally, out of the darkness he says, “Yes.”
There’s this sort of swelling in her chest, of guilt mingled with deep sorrow, and she presses her hand against her eyes, feeling the hot tears rise to them.
“Why?” She asks, taking a deep breath. “Desmond told me he was able to help you avoid the other times you almost died. Why didn’t he save you then?”
“Because I made sure he couldn’t,” Charlie answers, his voice a bit stronger now. “ Because he told me that if I died, you would be able to get off this island.”
“You and Aaron,” He adds after a fraction of a second.
She holds her hands to her face, hiding it, even though he can barely see her now since it’s so dark, and the tears leak through her fingers, unable to be held back any longer.
“I wanted to save you and Aaron, Claire,” Charlie continues during her silence. “ That was more important to me than anything else. But it looks like things have changed now, and I’m sorry for that, Claire…”
He trails off, the sorrow seeming to have restricted him from going on, but she doesn’t need to hear any more.
She gets up from her chair and walks around the table to where she knows he’s sitting.
“Claire?” Charlie says, noticing her movement.
“I’m right here,” She responds, reaching out for him, and his hand finds hers, pulling her to him.
She folds herself against him, and he holds her warmly right back, his fingers brushing through her long hair.
“Thank you, Charlie,” She whispers, her face streaked with tears that will never seem to stop.
“You’re quite welcome,” He whispers back, and in spite of herself, she smiles.
-
Charlie tells her one morning that he had visited Hurley off the island.
“How?” She utters in shock.
He shrugs, his face pondering. “I don’t know. I just concentrated on Hurley in my thoughts and all of a sudden I was off the island and looking right at him.”
She thinks hard on this, a joyous feeling she hasn’t felt in what seems like forever creeping up in her chest. If Charlie could visit Hurley off the island, then she might just be able to--
“Charlie,” She declares, a little stronger than she intended. “Did you happen to see--?”
“No,” Charlie interrupts quickly, understanding but apologetic. “I didn’t see Aaron, or anyone else.”
“Oh,” She merely says, and falls silent.
“But he did tell me Kate was raising Aaron,” Charlie continues, and she detects the reluctance in his voice at bringing this part up. “Her and Jack.”
She feels a little more calm now, and she looks up into Charlie’s apprehensive face and proclaims, “Well, that’s good.”
And they let the conversation end at that.
-
One night she decides to try it out.
She closes her eyes and focuses her thoughts intently on Aaron, and where he might be, and she suddenly feels like she’s weightless, floating through space.
Her feet land on carpeted floor and she opens her eyes.
The room is just as a little boy’s room should be.
There were childish paintings on the walls, a dresser with some picture frames and drawings on top of it, and she lets her eyes wander around every inch of the room.
Then she sees him.
Aaron is in a deep sleep in his small bed, the quilted blanket pulled up high on him, his little hands resting unmoving on each of his sides.
She approaches his bed quietly, dropping slowly down to her knees, and puts her hand lightly over his.
The relief washes over her like a tidal wave as she feels his still, warm hand beneath hers, because she had wondered that if her being solid only applied if she was on the island, and not off it.
But, so fortunately, she had been wrong.
She caresses his hand gently, studying his three year old appearance.
He looks just like she had always imagined he would.
She knows that just a few rooms away Kate is sleeping; Kate, the woman that she had considered a friend on the island, the woman that her son calls ‘mommy’.
But even though it does hurt, knowing the role Kate plays with Aaron, she is not angry at her, because Aaron is safe and is happy and that is all that matters now.
She presses her lips to her son’s hand.
“I love you,” She breathes, closing her eyes. “I will always love you.”
She knows she’s already gone before she opens her eyes.
-
She tells Charlie that she visited Aaron, and as she recounts the story she feels this intense happiness inside her that she can only hope doesn’t go away too soon.
Charlie listens quietly, taking in every word, and at the end of it he asks her softly, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” She replies, and there’s complete sincerity behind those words.
-
Her father tells her that Aaron can come back to the island soon.
She looks back at him, surprised, but then she remembers everything that’s happened outside of the cabin and she says, “But it’s dangerous here.”
“The only way things can be fixed back to normal here is if everyone who has left the island comes back,” Her father explains. “That includes Aaron, and when he gets here, he will be safe. I’ll make sure of that.”
There’s a rush of euphoria inside her at these words, which dissolves at once as she realizes the other dilemma at hand.
“But I’m dead,” She remarks feebly. “You said that was why I couldn’t take care of Aaron.”
Her father shakes his head at her. “At that time, you couldn’t. But now, when he gets back, you can.”
She furrows her eyebrows, spotting all the problems that still exist.
“You are dead, yes,” Her father continues. “But this place, this island, is no ordinary island, which you know. Here, and nowhere else, you can be his mother again. Those who come back will never leave.”
“Will any of those who left here want to come back, though?” She asks, trying not to give in to happiness and hopes until absolutely all potential obstacles were resolved.
Her father sighs, leaning back in his chair. “They will have to be persuaded, of course. Charlie has already persuaded Hurley. In the end, they will all have to agree.”
She simply sits there, lost in shock, but the certainty in her father’s voice eliminates all her doubts.
Her father, after all, had never been wrong before.
Her father leans across the table, smiling at her. “You will get your son back, Claire.”
Sorrow is not why she relinquishes her tears this time.
-
Charlie has his guitar again that night, but this time she asks him to play something else instead of Aaron’s lullaby, and as his eyes meet hers she can tell he understands why she doesn’t need it played anymore.
In the past, when it was played, it was only to get her by, to have one last thing of her son to hold onto.
But now her son is coming back.
And they will be able to play the lullaby to Aaron in person.
Charlie plays a song that he had written for his band, and when he hits that high note she can’t suppress the giggle that escapes her.
He looks over at her, surprised, but she sees the corners of his mouth twitch. “Now, that hurts, Claire. I’m trying to sing my heart out here for you and you laugh at me.”
“I’m sorry,” She says in mock seriousness, and leans across the table and kisses him.
When they break apart, she says contently and confidently, “We’re going to get him back, Charlie.”
She’s not sure why she says it, because he already knows, but she just had to hear herself say it, to make it more true.
He smiles back at her, emulating her happiness. “I know.”
-
She knows it’s the day she had been waiting so long and desperately for because she can hear the shocked voices and outcries of “They’re back!”, even though she knows they’re far away, out on the beach.
She gets up, as does Charlie, and Charlie opens the door, and the sunlight pours in, enveloping her in a warmth she hasn’t felt for a very long time.
The voices and laughter are much more strong and clear now as Charlie steps out of the cabin.
Charlie looks toward the source of them for a second, then turns back to look at her, a grin highlighting his features, and he holds out a hand to her.
She grins back as she takes it, and steps out of the cabin and into the light.
---
.end