Crossing
CharliesHoodie

That is what happens when you die.

-

And then something else, too. An opportunity to see beyond your own life that ended. An opportunity, one last time, to understand.

To understand why you died.

-

Charlie was standing on the sand at the beach – the beach he knew so well. One that he could walk across safely with his eyes closed and list off every single person around him by name. But they didn’t notice him. Not like they should have.

Why was he here and Desmond not?

“Jack, where’s Desmond?” Charlie asked, following the doctor towards his tent quickly. But Jack moved on, not bothering to stop. Charlie stopped and stood where he was, watching Jack leave.

“I know you think I get in the way, but ignoring me is ridiculous!” Charlie called after him. Jack didn’t even turn around.

“We’re getting bloody rescued,” Charlie said to himself. “Where could Desmond have gone?”

There was a sudden flock of people that ran past Charlie to the shoreline. He couldn’t see over them, but they were waving and cheering out towards the ocean. Charlie shoved through them and made it to the front of the group. He then saw a small boat paddling towards the beach.

And then there was Claire, baby Aaron in her arms, standing on her tiptoes and waving out at the boat. She laughed and kissed her baby. “Charlie’s coming back, love.”

Charlie stared at her a moment and then laughed, walking over next to her.

“Claire, I’m right here,” he told her. But she didn’t look in his direction. Neither did Aaron. Claire continued to stare out at the boat anxiously.

Charlie’s face crumbled in concern. “Claire!” He tried again. Still nothing. He gave her and the people around them a frightened look and moved over in front of Hurley, waving his hands in front of his friend’s face.

“Hurley! Hey! I’m right here.”

“Dude,” Hurley whispered. Charlie let his hands fall down to his sides and took a deep breath. He had finally gotten someone’s attention.

“Where’s Charlie?” Hurley asked, moving right through Charlie and catching him off guard. Charlie jerked around and saw Hurley and a few other people gather around Desmond. Desmond had been the one in the small boat.

Claire stood off to the side, staring at Desmond and holding Aaron tightly. Charlie watched as Desmond walked up to Claire and touched her shoulder, talking to her quietly.

Charlie quickly walked up to them, listening to everything that was being said.

“Desmond. Don’t,” Claire demanded, shaking her head and looking down at the sand.

“Claire, he drowned,” Desmond said anyway. “I’m so sorry. So, so, sorry.”

“You couldn’t even bring back his body!” Claire suddenly exploded, storming off to her tent.

“It’s not that easy, Claire!” Desmond called after her. But it was no use. She was already inside her tent.

-

A quick flash. More bright lights. Surrounded by still, calm, murky liquid – unable to see more than a foot in front of you. Feeling the water soak into your skin, knowing that you’re dead. And knowing that there is nothing you can do about it. Nothing to do but wait on your spirit to do as it pleases before returning back to it’s host, collecting what’s left, and going off into another world that supplies a different life.

-

Another flash, and his spirit wanted to take one last trip after retrieving all the memories. Now he knew he was dead. But now he also had one more opportunity to be with them again.

-

“Desmond,” Charlie said quietly. He was standing directly in front of his friend. Everyone on the beach had left in anger, leaving Desmond there alone. Tears were rolling down his face and he quickly wiped them away – ashamed even though there was no living being there to watch him.

“I’m so sorry, Charlie.”

Charlie looked up. But he knew Desmond couldn’t have recognized him. Now Charlie knew the truth. Now he remembered.

“It’s ok, mate,” Charlie said, just to put himself at ease. “It’s ok.”

-

That night, he sat among them around the fire. Tomorrow morning they would be rescued.

“I remember, the first day we crashed, how Kate, he and I went out to the cockpit,” Jack said.

“And how he relieved us with his funny comments about everything,” Kate added with a slight smile. “I never let him know I thought he was funny. But I really appreciated it, especially during times like that.”

“I remember when we first started to play golf,” Hurley said. “And how he kept trying to teach me how to swing, because I majorly sucked.” Hurley laughed slightly. “He took golf very seriously.”

Charlie smiled slightly and looked at Claire, who he was sitting next to. Aaron was asleep in his crib, and she sat by herself, except for him. But to her, he wasn’t there at all. He wanted her to bring up a memory, but she hadn’t so far.

“I remember when I helped him find his guitar, and how happy he was,” Locke said, stirring the fire with a stick. “And how pleased he was when he found out I liked his band.”

“When he stepped on a beehive and nearly had a heart attack,” Kate put in, laughing, even though no one else really was. Her laughing died down, but a smile remained. “And then he got stung…’several hundred times,’” she quoted him.

“I remember when he saved my life,” Jack said thoughtfully with a small frown. “From the cave-in.”

Saving a life.

Desmond looked up. He looked exhausted and flustered. No one had really been speaking to him much at all.

“I remember seeing him on the streets in London, playing his guitar,” Desmond said quietly. “Before all this happened. He was younger, clean-cut.” Desmond paused. “I didn’t know who he was then,” Desmond lied. When he had went back during his flashes, that was when he recognized him. “But when I saw him for the second time…in the hatch…” he shook his head. “I could recognize him anywhere.”

Charlie frowned slightly. He didn’t remember seeing Desmond back in England. He felt almost guilty that he didn’t, considering Desmond had recognized him on the island from when he supposedly saw him in London.

Charlie looked back at Claire. She looked troubled now.

“You…knew Charlie before?” She asked, looking up. Her voice was hoarse, like she had been crying more than talking. And it was true – she had been crying. Charlie had been watching her all day, helplessly. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and let her know it was going to be ok. But he couldn’t. He could only watch her cry.

“Only saw him briefly, sister,” Desmond answered. “Only about a minute. Playing his guitar on the street, profusely thanking anyone that spared him a pound.”

“What was he like?” Claire asked, even though Desmond had already been over it. She stared at him intently.

“Young. Very young. He was there alone…” Desmond bit his lip. “To me, when I saw him, he looked like a lonely person. But that didn’t seem to bother him. He was happy with just he and his guitar. He didn’t seem to mind the ‘starving artist’ life.” Desmond smiled sadly at Claire, who now had tears rolling down her cheeks.

“I think we’ve had enough of this,” Kate said finally, touching Claire’s shoulder. But Claire shrugged her off.

“No. I…I have a few things to share.”

Charlie looked up from where he had been staring down at the sand. Claire fiddled with a ring on her finger nervously as she spoke.

“I remember when he helped me with my luggage when I was pregnant. And when he tried to help with my peanut butter craving. When he swore to protect me when Ethan was attacking me at the caves. And when he shot Ethan.” Claire shook her head. So many memories were flooding back into her mind. “When he rescued Aaron from Danielle. When he took care of me even when I was angry with him. When he made a picnic for us…”

Desmond looked down guiltily. He had been the one that ruined the picnic. They never had it.

“…When he was there to help me when I got sick.” Claire stopped at this. She had been sobbing for quite awhile now, barely able to choke out one memory after the other. Kate shook her head and pulled Claire to her feet, leading Claire to her tent. Charlie jumped up and followed after them. Kate spoke comforting words to her friend before squeezing her shoulder and leaving. Claire sat alone in her tent, wiping away leftover tears that were quickly replaced by fresh ones. Her body shook violently and she grabbed a blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders.

Charlie stepped in cautiously, watching every move she made. He sat down next to her, carefully touching her leg. He felt her, but his hand still went through her leg. She didn’t feel him.

Claire bit her lip and stood up suddenly, walking over to Aaron’s crib and looking down on him. He was still sleeping. Charlie joined her, wrapping an arm around her waist loosely (careful to make sure his arm didn’t slide right through her) and breathing in the scent of cheap makeshift soap from her hair. He was shocked at exactly how many senses he still had. He was still able to hear, smell, see and feel. But people still couldn’t see him. Or hear him. Or feel him. They could sodding walk right through him.

But Aaron recognized him. Aaron sensed him. Aaron saw him.

Babies and children did, in fact, have much keener senses than adults. They were still innocent, still unaware of what was considered taboo in the world. No one ever told them they couldn’t see spirits. As they got older, society told them that things were impossible. And when they began to think things were impossible, they eventually became impossible in their minds and in reality.

But little baby Aaron – he knew he was there.

Aaron cooed up at him slightly, causing Charlie to laugh. He reached to pick him up but stopped, realizing what would happen. It was almost like Aaron knew himself. He didn’t reach up for Charlie like he usually did. They had a little unspoken understanding.

Claire turned away from Aaron and sat back down. Charlie smiled at the baby and then joined Claire. She lied down, pulling a blanket over her body and curling up, closing her eyes tightly and trying to sleep. Charlie lied down next to her, staring at her face. He wasn’t going to try to sleep. He was afraid he would return back to his body. He knew he would have to eventually, but not right now.

Claire fell asleep with a troubled look on her face, but Charlie stayed up the entire night, just to watch her.

-

He was still wide-awake when she opened her eyes. For a moment, he thought she was gazing into his. But just as he expected, she simply sighed and sat up and went over to Aaron’s crib. When she saw that Aaron was still peacefully sleeping, she turned around and sat back down where she had been sleeping.

Charlie watched as she pulled a brush out of her carry-on bag and began to brush out her long blonde hair. It was interesting to see her expressions and attitude when technically no one was watching her. She looked exhausted, depressed. Once again, he wished he could kiss her face, take her in his arms, and tell her everything was going to be ok.

Claire set down her brush and sighed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Charlie frowned as she broke down right in front of him, her shoulders shaking and her hands quivering as she made her ‘bed.’

“I love you, Claire,” he whispered quietly, feeling his own voice break. Claire shook her head as if she heard him and buried her face in her hands. Charlie was about to say something again, but she spoke first.

“I loved you,” she sobbed. “Why’d you leave me?!”

Charlie’s mouth dropped open slightly, but she obviously wasn’t expecting a response. She stood up promptly and grabbed Aaron, leaving her tent.

Charlie frowned and jumped up, following after them. He was shocked at what he saw, and apparently, judging by the look of her face, Claire was too.

A helicopter was sitting on the beach, it’s engine off and it’s crew loading on baggage. Claire turned to Jack as he passed by.

“Desmond said it wasn’t his girlfriend’s search team, they’re not-“

Jack shook his head. “He said Charlie got in contact with her before he….” Jack paused. “She traced the signal. She’s here now.”

Claire had a mix of shock, joy, and anxiety on her face. She turned, looking out over the island, her soft eyes wide.

“I can’t believe we’re leaving,” she whispered to Jack.

Jack frowned slightly. “Yeah. Me either. Go get your things together, ok?”

Claire nodded slightly and walked back into her tent, holding Aaron close.

Charlie waited to follow her back in. He took in all the people on the beach – all the people he knew and cared about. Kate and Sawyer stood together, looking at the security officers from the helicopter nervously. Kate looked especially fidgety. Sayid was down the beach, paying respects to Shannon. Locke was nowhere in sight, though. Sun and Jin were packing.

And there was Hurley, looking both emotionally and physically exhausted as he drug his suitcases down the beach towards the helicopter. Desmond walked by and squeezed his shoulder, gaining a small smile from Hurley. Charlie’s eyes followed Desmond now. He didn’t look as happy as he probably should’ve been, considering he was about to go see Penelope.

Charlie walked over next to Desmond and watched as he shakily packed.

“I forgive you, mate,” Charlie told him. It was nice to be able to say these things without having to worry about a response. He hoped in some strange way, him saying these silent confessions would somehow make his friends feel at ease.

Out of Desmond’s suitcase fell Charlie’s list of memories. It was folded up and Charlie could see that the ink had seeped through and was probably very smeared due to the water. Desmond didn’t see it fall and walked away, hauling his suitcase over towards the helicopter.

It was no wonder Desmond never gave it to Claire. First of all, she was furious and depressed. It was hard for just anyone to approach her, and the man that she saw responsible for Charlie’s death was certainly out of the question. And then there was the fact that receiving the note would make things all too real – and not being able to read the smeared ink would make things even more frustrating.

But it had to get to her.

Charlie was instantly amazed when he was able to pick it up and pocket it. He thought he was foolish for trying to – everything else went right through him. But then again, he was also a dead man walking. Whatever and whoever allowed him to have this chance obviously realized what he was trying to do.

He also grabbed his sharpie and meandered off down the beach by the treeline. He very carefully unfolded the note, careful not to let it tear. But that was impossible. A few very large tears were already there, and some of the letter had already crumbled up in his hand. He very carefully pressed the sharpie down on the delicate paper and wrote down one more thing for her.

-

Claire was busily packing up her things, shaky and nervous about leaving the island. It was Aaron’s birthplace, and also where she had met Charlie. It was such a huge part of her now. It seemed like if she went back, she’d be right where she started – pregnant, giving Aaron up for adoption, and not knowing Charlie…never being able to fall in love with him.

All her main suitcases were in the helicopter already. She had just went back to pack her carry-on with all the little odds and ends she had collected on the island, Charlie’s band’s ring being one of them.

She had put Charlie’s guitar in its case, but left it open. She planned to let Aaron play it when he was older. As she went to close and lock the case, she noticed a folded piece of paper between the strings and fret board.

And it hadn’t been there before – she knew that. Before she had put it away, she had strummed the few chords she knew, happy just knowing he had done the same only days before. And now this…this letter.

She noticed the water damage and carefully unfolded it, laying it on top of the guitar. She frowned slightly, unable to make out the words. They were faded, but she saw words like ‘radio,’ ‘hero,’ ‘Liam,’ and ‘swim.’ Towards the bottom, she could ready ‘met you’ if she squinted.

Then she noticed at the bottom of the note there was an extra fold – a fold that looked newer. In fact, it looked like it would rip off the bottom because of the new crease. She carefully unfolded the bottom half and was shocked at what she saw.

There was a sentence at the bottom in dark, bold letters. She automatically thought, no, knew it was freshly written. But that was impossible.

It was in his handwriting, as was the rest of the faded note. This bottom half should’ve been just as faded. But it wasn’t.

There, in his scratchy upper-case writing, read:

I’M HERE WITH YOU ALWAYS. & I LOVE YOU.

-

When he watched them leave on the helicopter, he hadn’t been saddened by it.

Once she read his note, there was a certain light about her that made him happier as well. Although he knew she had been confused by it, he also knew that she didn’t doubt one bit that he meant what he had said – that he loved her. And that he would be there for her always.

Desmond had seen her with the note and asked her where she got it – she said it had been with Charlie’s things. Desmond looked slightly taken aback, and shared with her the story about how Charlie had given it to him to give to her. And also that he had not put it there, and had no clue how it had gotten between the strings of Charlie’s guitar.

But he had an idea of how it got there. So did she.

Charlie looked around at the deserted, empty beach. It was definitely time to go now. He felt accomplished. The beach was engulfed in a bright light, but wasn’t completely gone. He could still make out the outline of the trees – the shoreline on the beach. His eyes drifted down towards the shore and he saw Eko walking towards him. He brightened slightly at the sight of his friend.

“Charlie,” Eko smiled. “Are you ready to come home?”

Charlie nodded, accepting. “Yeah mate. I’m ready.”

-

And then more bright lights and a feeling of renewal. A feeling of life again.

That is what happens when you die.

-LOST-

A/N: I lost it a bit writing that end scene with Charlie and Eko. I’m either making Charlie’s death easier or extremely difficult. Not sure which.

Thank you for reading.