Cold Reading

Characters: Charlie, Richard Malkin, Liam.
Rating: PG
Setting: Australia. Richard Malkin’s house.
Disclaimer: Lost would be totally different if I owned it.
Summary: While on tour, Charlie and Liam make a stop at the psychic Richard Malkin’s house for a reading.
Note: Those of you that love love love the Charlotte and Charlie parallels will probably like this! Written for the Strange Encounters Challenge on LJ - CharlieLives.

“Look, Li. This is stupid. You believe in psychics?”

“Well, they say this guy is good, right? So I figure that while we’re here, you know, touring in Australia we should check him out.”

Charlie sighed and rolled his eyes. He and Liam were standing outside the door of a supposed psychic’s house. It had completely been Liam’s idea - he was more into that spiritual rubbish than Charlie. Liam would tell you that spirits talked to you through an Ouija board while Charlie would state that you subconsciously move your fingers to spell out what you wanted to hear. Charlie used to be the logical one and Liam would be the high-all-the-bloody-time dreamer. Things would change, though.

Before Charlie even had time to change Liam’s mind, the door knob turned and a man with close-set eyes and a round face stepped out to look at them. He opened the door a little wider and allowed them to walk in.

“Come in, please.”

Charlie and Liam walked inside after him. Liam was looking around, grinning, while Charlie glanced around skeptically and crossed his arms. He caught site of a picture frame sitting on the mantle of the psychic’s fireplace. The picture was a headshot of a girl with reddish blonde hair, bangs, beautiful blue-green eyes, and pale skin. Charlie stepped forward to get a better look at the photograph, slightly intrigued by a reason he couldn’t exactly explain. He always found it interesting to go into a stranger’s house and look at pictures of their family - to try to get an idea of what their life was like.

The man saw him looking and his small mouth twitched into a frown. He crossed the room to the mantle and gently put the picture face down. Confused, Charlie took a step back. He opened his mouth to apologize - he wasn’t sure what he had did wrong - but instead something else came out.

“What’s your name again?”

“Richard Malkin.”

Charlie nodded, as if the new information had helped him in some way. It hadn’t. He didn’t know why he asked.

Richard turned away and went to sit across from Liam at his table.

“What’s your name, sir?”

“Liam Pace. That’s my baby brother Charlie.” He gestured over at Charlie with a wave of his hand. He paused. “Hey, if you’re a psychic…”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“…Oh. Ok. I bet that gets old.”

“Yes it does.”

Liam blushed slightly and Charlie snorted, taking a seat on Richard’s couch. He watched, judgment written all over his face, as Richard took his brother’s hands and closed his eyes. He began to ‘read’ his fortune. Liam was gawking at him stupidly and Charlie was rolling his eyes and tapping his foot impatiently. He knew this guy was a fraud. Charlie could spot a cold reading - it was easy. You gave the psychic information about yourself and he or she basically just fed it right back to you, except they changed the words around a bit to make it seem like they knew more or they were giving a prophecy or knew the future or something like that. It was all just one big mind game - taking advantage of innocent people.

This wasn’t to say that Charlie didn’t believe in psychics. He thought some people had the gift - but those people didn’t exploit it. Those people didn’t charge money, or advertise like this guy did. Liam probably represented a common customer of Richard. Stupid clueless ponce.

When Richard finished his reading, Liam turned around in his chair to stare at Charlie, open-mouthed and eyes wide - disbelieving of what he had just heard. Charlie wanted to grab his shoulders and shake him and tell him he already knew all of what Richard had told him. But he just smiled back and stood up, eager to leave.

“Are you next?”

Charlie froze and gave Richard a half-smile. “Actually…no. I, um, I’m not really into…this…” he gestured at the table.

Richard just nodded and his eyes fell. Liam stood and looked at Charlie accusingly and stood up, shoving him lightly.

“C’mon, baby brother…”

“Liam, no.”

Charlie noticed there appeared to be something wrong with Richard. Tears were forming in his eyes and he was staring steadily at the table. Feeling like he had caused this, Charlie took a tentative step towards him. No matter how much of a fake this guy was, Charlie still felt unsettled at the thought of having a psychic mad at him.

“Excuse me if I seem odd,” Richard suddenly spoke, looking back up. “I’ve…I’ve just lost my daughter. Two days ago.”

Charlie winced. “Oh, mate, I’m sorry. I…”

Richard shook his head. “Don’t be.” He paused and Charlie shuffled awkwardly.

“You know…” Richard continued. “She was just going for a walk…she always went for a walk there. And she always came back. She was in the water for two days…cold water, too.”

Liam grabbed Charlie’s arm and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Lets get the bloody hell out of here.”

Charlie shook his head and pulled away. He would feel a little guilty and awkward if he left now. He sat down across from Richard at the table and frowned slightly. Richard glanced at the clock.

“I believe they’re performing her autopsy now.”

Liam was lingering by the door and raising his eyebrows at Charlie pointedly. Charlie shrugged at him and turned back to Richard.

“Is that…is that her photograph on the mantle?”

“Yes,” Richard answered hesitantly.

Charlie nodded. “Well, she’s lovely. Hey, maybe I’ll do this…reading thing. Just for kicks.”

Charlie extended his hands just as the phone rang, startling all three of them.

“Excuse me, I should take this,” Richard said, pushing back his chair and walking into the kitchen.

Liam glared at Charlie and threw his arms up in the air. “You don’t hit on the dead guy’s daughter!”

Charlie cringed. “I wasn’t, I was just-”

“There’s no way…”

Charlie and Liam paused and looked through the doorway that led to the kitchen. Richard was leaning against the wall, the phone pressed up against his ear and his eyes bulging. “She was dead…she can’t be alive…”

Charlie and Liam exchanged looks.

“Ok, this is starting to get really creepy really fast, Charlie. I think we should-”

Charlie shook his head, silencing his brother. They listened as Richard hung up the phone and ran into the living room, pulling on his jacket.

“What is it?” Charlie asked, standing up as well.

“Charlotte…she’s alive…”

Liam blinked and watched as Richard scurried across the room, pulling on his shoes and looking for his keys. “But if you’re a psychic, how come-”

“LIAM,” Charlie hissed warningly.

Richard stopped where he was and bit his lip. “Because I’m a fraud, Mr. Pace.” He met Liam’s eyes now. “I prey on innocent, vulnerable people who are looking for a miracle. And they’re not going to get one. Your money’s on the counter. I’m sorry.”

Liam went to grab his money and Charlie watched Richard as he slowly buttoned up his jacket.

“But…Mr. Malkin. Your daughter is alive! Isn’t that a miracle?”

“Hypothermia is a common in drowning cases. The victim appears dead, but they’re not. That’s all it is.”

Charlie gaped at Richard as Liam walked back out to the main room, shoving his money in his pocket. He headed for the door and left, feeling cheated and dejected. Charlie still stood in front of Richard.

“But…it was two days…”

Richard frowned at him. “Mr. Pace, I saw the moment you walked in the door you were skeptical of me. So why do you think my daughter living is a miracle?”

“Because you don’t just wake up after two days of being…of being dead!”

Richard pushed him gently out the door and onto the porch. Liam was waiting impatiently down in the yard.

“There was no miracle here.” And with that, he slammed the door.