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Author of 81 Stories |
Halls of Shambala
Characters:Desmond, Mrs. Hawking,
Charlie, Hurley, Claire, other Losties.
Rating: PG-13
Setting:
Season 4
Disclaimer:
If something EXACTLY like this happens on the show…then yeah. It’s
totally mine.
Summary:
Before Desmond can change fate, he has to live through Charlie’s
deaths that never came to pass.
Note: I got the hugest migraine writing this...you'll probably see why as you read. I'm emotionally spent and I'm going to go inhale some Advil or whatever pretty soon. This story could've been a successful chapter story...but instead it turned into a never-ending one-shot of DOOM. But if you adore Chesmond...or maybe you just like one or the other...I think you'll find the read quite enjoyable. I mean, as enjoyable as Charlie dying four times can get. Haha.
To drown.
He figured it was liberating for Charlie at first - dying for his friends. A living sacrifice. Their martyr. He must’ve felt quite heroic - saving Desmond’s life after all the times Desmond had saved his.
Liberating.
Until Charlie realized it was all for nothing.
Desmond watched, an amused smile on his lips, as the rest of the beach camp packed their bags and prepared to move out. Most of the men had guns in tow, scared looks on their faces. Desmond could hear Aaron crying down the beach.
“It’s no use, brother,” Desmond informed Jack as he watched the doctor pack his backpack with supplies and water. Desmond took a swing from the bottle of whiskey he had clutched by the neck. He grinned around the rim of it. “They’re just gonna find us.”
Jack threw his pack over his shoulders and stood up to face Desmond. “You’re drunk, man. Come on - we’ve got to head out.”
Desmond just laughed. “Head out and do what? Wait for them to come?! They’ll kill us all, you know! You head out, brother. I’ll stay and face them. Meet my end early. Just like him.”
Jack flinched at the mention of Charlie and didn’t look up to meet Desmond’s eyes as he spoke. “No one stays behind, Desmond. We stay together.”
“Aye,” Desmond murmured thoughtfully. “Stay together, huh? Charlie would’ve liked that - this whole ‘sticking together’ business. And to think - maybe Charlie always thought you’d save him. Protect him. Did you even meet his eyes when you asked him to swim down there?”
Jack turned on Desmond, catching the other man off guard. Desmond swayed slightly as he stepped back.
“Lets not forget you’re the one who saw it happen in the first place.”
Desmond winced. “Have I let that slip, too?”
“You’ve let a lot of things slip.”
“Well, go on, then!” Desmond exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air wildly and then immediately taking another swing from his bottle. Everyone had tuned into the argument and had created a semi-circle around Desmond and Jack. Desmond spied Claire on the edge of the circle, cradling Aaron against her chest and crying into his blankets. “Go on, off in the middle of the night! You’ll only get shot down! Killed! All of you!”
“Well, so will you if you stay!” Jack exclaimed. “We have a better chance if we stay together. We’re not leaving you, Desmond.”
Instead of protesting, Desmond just laughed. Almost manically. He turned his back to everyone and started to walk back to his tent. But then he paused and turned back around to get a long, good, last look at them.
“I hope he’s the last person you think about while you wait to die. Just like he was thinking about you.”
That was enough.
The semi-circle slowly broke apart in silence, following Jack off into the jungle. The only person that lingered behind was Hurley, staring at Desmond.
“Go, Hurley,” Desmond scowled. “Go with Jack.”
Hurley shook his head and walked over to Desmond. “No, dude. Charlie wouldn’t want you to do this. He would want you to be safe.”
“There is no safe place here.”
Hurley choked on a sob and a few tears streamed down his face. Desmond watched him regretfully. He kept opening his mouth to comfort him, but no words came out.
“Maybe you do deserve to die.”
The statement was so out of character that it nearly brought Desmond to his knees as he studied Hurley’s broken face. Then Hurley turned and started to follow Jack.
“No, Hurley, wait…” Desmond begged, moving to follow him. But the intense weight of the alcohol in his body - the weight that made him feel like his brain weighed a hundred pounds…it caused him to go light-headed. And he fell onto the soft sand, still warm from the daylight’s brutal sunshine.
The words comforted Desmond’s ears.
A sweet, smooth voice that almost seemed timid when it needn’t be.
And here he was - in his suit. His tie - a crinkled mess on the sidewalk. And Charlie. Guitar case open, sign out.
Charlie.
“ ‘Maybe,’ “ Desmond laughed. “Aye. ‘Maybe.’ That’s a good word.”
Charlie looked up at him now…a little nervously. He quickly averted his eyes back down to the sidewalk and muttered a few ‘thanks’ to the people who tossed him money.
For some odd reason Desmond found himself upset that Charlie wasn’t looking at him. So he stepped much closer - closer to the point his stomach brushed against Charlie’s guitar strings, causing a gentle open chord.
“You know, brother. ‘Maybe’ is a perfect word. ‘Cause sometimes we can’t change what we see. I never promised you anything. So it was always ‘maybe.’ Maybe I’ll save you this time. And then one time, I didn’t.”
Charlie’s eyes flickered up to meet Desmond’s now and for a very brief moment…Desmond thought maybe Charlie recognized him. But then Charlie stepped back away from him, hands raised in defense as he let his guitar hang by it’s strap.
“Ok, mate. It’s just a song. Back off, would you?”
“I’m sorry,” Desmond muttered, reaching out and clasping his arm. “I’m so, so incredibly sorry that I did this to you.”
Charlie jerked his arm away from Desmond. By now, a new group of people had formed, watching the tussle. Charlie turned his back to Desmond and put his guitar into it’s case. Desmond stood, watching him with his fists clenched to his sides. When Charlie turned back around to face him, Desmond lost it.
“If you come with me I’ll keep you safe this time!” Desmond grabbed a hold of Charlie, who shrieked and tried to shove him away. But Desmond grabbed his wrists, pinning Charlie’s arms to his sides as he tried to talk to him.
“You don’t understand what’s going to happen to you! You have to listen to me! Just come with me, Charlie!”
Charlie had stopped struggling and was listening to Desmond’s words with wide, scared eyes. When Desmond noticed those eyes that looked all too familiar, he let go of Charlie and backed away, tears streaming down his face.
“I’m sorry. You know I’m sorry…”
Charlie picked up his guitar case and practically ran.
Desmond watched him go helplessly, unsure if he should run after him or wander off. But where could he wander off to? To find Penny? Relive this bloody day all over again for the third time? He couldn’t. He was about to run after Charlie when a voice from behind called out to him.
“Desmond Hume! What’re you doing back here again?!”
Desmond turned around to see Mrs. Hawking standing behind him, a little smile on her thin lips. She was the same. Snow white hair, large build. Everything.
Everything was telling Desmond he should turn and run and have nothing to do with her again. No encounter with this woman would be pleasant. And yet he found himself following her back to her shop.
“Well, it does seem like it, now doesn’t it?” Mrs. Hawking agreed. She was sitting behind her glass counter, watching Desmond as he paced. Penny’s engagement ring mocked him from inside the glass box.
“Yes it bloody does!” Desmond exclaimed, kicking over an antique lamp angrily and watching as it shattered on the ground. Mrs. Hawking seemed unfazed.
“Desmond, you need to stop acting like a lunatic so we can talk,” she said evenly, standing up now.
“Talk?” Desmond snorted. “What, are you going to show me more men that are fated to die? More people we can’t help?”
“No…I’m going to show you something different.”
Desmond stopped pacing now and he turned to look at her. “What’re you going to show me, then?”
“Desmond, tell me - you realized what has happened due to Charlie’s death, correct?”
Desmond held his breath. “Yes. There’s no real rescue. It was for nothing. The people coming are going to hurt us.”
Mrs. Hawking nodded. “You’d do anything to go back and stop him from turning off that jamming equipment, wouldn’t you?”
Desmond’s eyes fell shut briefly. “You have no idea, sister.”
Mrs. Hawking gave him a small smile. “Well, Desmond, I’m going to let you.”
Desmond frowned and looked around urgently. This didn’t have anything to do with the Looking Glass, Charlie, or anything Mrs. Hawking had sent him back for. He was about to storm off and take shelter when he saw Charlie race past him and into Claire’s tent where she was holding Aaron to shield him from the rain.
Desmond panicked and looked around. No make-shirt lightning rod. Nothing to stop it from happening…
“Charlie! Get out of there!” Desmond screamed, racing for the tent. Charlie looked up at him and their eyes locked briefly before a flash blinded Desmond and Claire’s screaming pierced his ears. When his vision cleared, Claire was standing up and shrieking and Charlie was crumbled on the floor of her tent.
“Oh God, no…” Desmond whispered, running under Claire’s tent and gathering Charlie in his arms. His clothes were singed and torn and his eyes were wide and unfocused with shock as his breathing came out in short gasps.
“Charlie, stay with me now, all right?” Desmond pleaded with him. Charlie didn’t move. Didn’t say anything. Didn’t even acknowledge that Desmond was there…
Sayid came running up and knelt down with Desmond. “I don’t believe he can hear you,” Sayid muttered, checking Charlie’s pulse and frowning slightly. “His eardrums are shattered. He’s gone into a temporary paralysis.” Claire turned away and sobbed.
“Temporary?” Desmond asked. “Temporary…you mean he’s going to make it? He’ll be ok?!” He should’ve known better.
Sayid frowned at Desmond sadly and took Desmond’s hand, pressing his fingers against Charlie’s wrist so he could feel the weakening pulse.
“I’m sorry,” Sayid apologized. “The only thing we can do is wait.”
Desmond watched helplessly as Sayid attempted to make Charlie look him in the eye so he could offer his young friend some sort of comfort before he passed. But it was no use. Charlie was already practically gone. And after a few long minutes, his body went limp.
Mrs. Hawking rolled her eyes slightly. “I’m sorry, Desmond. But I can’t just let you. There are some things you need to be aware of first.”
Desmond laughed slightly. “Should’ve known it. Should’ve known there was a catch. I was already aware he was going to die by that lightning! I was the one having the bloody flashes!”
“Oh, Desmond, I know that. I also know what went through your mind while you were with Charlie.”
Desmond froze. “You know nothing about me.”
Mrs. Hawking laughed and stood up, walking around the counter. “I know a lot more than you think I do. I know, each time you saved him, you thought about how you wish you could’ve just let him die.”
“No!” Desmond exclaimed, clenching his hair in his fists and sitting down in a chair. “No! I never thought-”
“You wish you could’ve let him die so you could spare him the pain of waiting for the course-correcting. You cared about him dearly, but each time you saved him you always wished that you hadn’t because you hated seeing him so scared. That’s true, isn’t it?”
“Aye,” Desmond muttered. “But what’s your point?”
“It turns out Charlie dying was never for the best. I know you realized it when you found out the rescue team wasn’t Penny’s…but there’s a lot more than that. And I think you should know.”
Desmond squeezed his eyes shut. “You mean his previous deaths only brought bad things as well?”
“Exactly.”
“You’re lying,” Desmond accused. “Charlie got struck by lightening and he died. People cry and they’re sad. The end.”
Mrs. Hawking frowned. “Actually, Sayid sunk into a depression from feeling so helpless while he watched Charlie die. Like you’ve done so many times since Charlie’s death, Sayid started wondering if he could have saved Charlie. He secluded himself from everyone. He wouldn’t speak. Charlie’s death on top of Shannon’s was too much.”
“Sayid’s a soldier. He could’ve handled it.”
“You were a solider too, Desmond.”
Desmond winced. “You’re going to force me to see all this, aren’t you?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Desmond was staring at Hurley, his hands gathered at the bottom of his shirt as if he were about to pull it off but had changed his mind at the last minute. He turned around to see the ocean spread out in front of him, smooth and calm. No disturbances.
“Desmond, come on! He went under! Do something!”
Desmond ripped off his shirt and ran into the water, diving into the waves. He knew how this would end up, but he still found himself unable to allow it to happen. Some things just didn’t change.
He came out of the water several minutes later, body spent and arms empty. He gave everyone who had gathered an apologetic look before collapsing in the sand and drawing his knees up to his chest and closing his eyes. Aaron was wailing. He could hear some of the others sniffing and crying while people like Locke and Sayid stayed silent in disbelief. Finally, Desmond staggered to his feet and wandered down the stretch of the beach.
There was another flash and Desmond was standing in a circle with the other survivors around two freshly dug graves. Desmond blinked when he saw the names on the crosses - they were Charlie and Claire’s.
Desmond turned to Hurley and grabbed his arm, causing the larger man to jump.
“Hurley, their bodies…how did…how…”
Hurley pried Desmond’s fingers off of his arm and frowned. “Dude, you’re the one that found them washed up on the beach this morning. You dug their graves.”
Desmond’s stomach clenched and he went lightheaded for a moment. Hurley helped him balance.
“Desmond? You ok? Come on, lets go sit down…”
Hurley’s soothing voice was a lie. Desmond looked into his eyes and realized they were red and puffy. He looked terrible. His face was flushed. He looked like he hadn’t had any sleep. Desmond pulled away and stumbled backwards before tripping over his own feet and falling over. Then there was another flash.
He was standing alone between Charlie and Claire’s graves, a shovel clenched in his hands. He looked down to see another hole he was halfway finished with, the freshly dug dirt in a pile next to it.
Desmond blinked and sat down, confused. Who was this for? What had happened now?
He glanced over at Charlie’s cross and bit his lip. He resisted the urge to grab his shovel and destroy the taunting monument and pretend his death had never happened. He realized that when Charlie died in this particular way, Claire had to die too. He hoped that was the extent of it. It certainly couldn’t get any worse than Aaron not having a family.
He moved closer to Charlie’s cross and touched it lightly with his fingertips before speaking to him quietly.
“Don’t worry, brother,” he muttered. “I’m going to change it. I promise. None of this is real.” He felt he was reassuring himself more than he was Charlie.
“Desmond, dude…”
Desmond stood up to greet Hurley who was walking towards him now, another cross clasped in his hand. “You all right?”
“Just talking to Charlie,” Desmond muttered.
Hurley looked down. “Yeah. I do that too.”
Desmond pointed at the cross Hurley was holding. “What’s that for?”
Hurley frowned. “Desmond, you’re really worrying me, you know? This whole thing isn’t giving you like, memory loss or something…is it?”
Desmond shook his head. “No. Just give me the cross and I’ll take it from here, brother.”
“Yeah, ok…” Hurley passed it over to him. “We’re, uh, having the service before sundown.”
“Got it,” Desmond muttered, turning the cross over as Hurley walked away.
It read ‘Aaron.’
“Without Claire there to nurse him and give him the nutrients he needed, Aaron died, too,” Mrs. Hawking told Desmond sadly. “Sun tried every remedy and substitute she could think of, but nothing helped.”
Desmond stood up from his chair and grabbed a hold of it, throwing it against the wall with a muffled cry. A few paintings fell and shattered. Mrs. Hawking frowned and grabbed a hold of Desmond’s arm.
“It’s time for you to calm down, Desmond,” she told him harshly. “You’re making a mess.”
“I guess that’s just what I’m destined to do, isn’t it?!” Desmond screamed at her. “Make a mess out of everyone’s lives!” He closed his eyes and collected himself. “I get the point, sister! Charlie’s supposed to be alive! Now please - stop this and let me change it.”
Mrs. Hawking shook her head. “I’m afraid before I let you go back to the Looking Glass that there are three other things you need to see.”
Desmond frowned. “Three? No. There’re two. His neck breaking and the arrow.”
“But there’s something else you need to see. Something you never knew about.”
Desmond shook his head. “I saw all his deaths. You’re wrong.”
“This isn’t a death, Desmond. And yet…I think you’ll find it the hardest thing to deal with.”
“I don’t think that’s possible.”
“It is,” she assured him. “But that comes later.”
“Bloody hell,” Desmond sighed, closing his eyes. But then something occurred to him. Here he was on the rocks - same time of day as the first time. Everything was the same. Even the wind felt the same. He looked down and spotted the bird’s nest. And, of course, there was the bird.
He grinned ear to ear for the first time in a long time and reached down, scooping up the bird and clinging to it. He nearly lost his balance again, but found himself laughing about it now. There must have been a glitch in Mrs. Hawking’s system, because here he was…getting the bird for Charlie again. He could hardly wait to run back to the beach and find him alive. The Charlie that knew him. Not the Charlie that thought he was some crazy loon who enjoyed attacking street musicians.
But then Desmond cringed, realizing what was about to happen. Claire was walking towards him quickly now, glaring at him accusingly.
“Desmond! What’re you doing?!”
He hardly noticed that she was wearing a different outfit. He also didn’t realize that the first time, Claire had been watching him while he captured the bird. Not walking up to him.
Desmond grinned again. “Something’s happened!”
Claire frowned and shook her head. Desmond’s face fell when he realized she looked like she had been crying and not getting enough sleep.
She didn’t ask how he knew about the location of the bird. Didn’t demand answers like she had the first time…
Desmond pointed out at the rocks, determined to set this right. “You see that rock? That’s where Charlie fell. That’s where the waves pounded him again and again against the rocks until he broke his neck. That’s where Charlie died.”
Claire suddenly screamed and pushed Desmond weakly, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed. “I know! I bloody know! What is this, some kind of joke?! You think what happened is funny?! What’re you trying to do?!”
Desmond outstretched his arms to offer her the bird and felt rather stupid doing so. Claire’s face scrunched angrily and she pushed his arms away and the bird flew free.
“You think I want the sodding bird after what happened?!” she screamed at him. “Stay away from me! You’re pathetic!”
She shoved him again and it was almost as if she had pushed him into a new scene. The next thing he knew, he was standing with Hurley by Charlie’s grave.
Hurley set down a handful of flowers next to the cross. His back was turned towards Desmond as he spoke.
“Hey, man,” Hurley said to the cross. “I brought you some flowers because they’re, like, the only thing we have around here to put on the graves. I tried to make them less girly than Libby’s. I really did. So…they’re blue.”
Desmond looked down, unable to bring himself to ruin this moment.
“Just remember I love you, man.”
Hurley turned around and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Desmond. A blush rose in his cheeks and he stumbled over his words. “Oh man, dude…I was just…”
Desmond shook his head. “It’s okay, Hurley. You don’t need to explain.”
Hurley’s eyes drifted down to his shoes. “I just miss him, you know?”
“Aye,” Desmond nodded. “I miss him, too.”
Hurley looked almost offended by this. Desmond didn’t know why until Hurley spoke again.
“You didn’t even know him, Desmond.”
Desmond cringed. He wanted to defend himself and talk about how much he cared about Charlie and how close - for better or for worse - they had become. But then he remembered where he was on this ‘timeline.’
“I didn’t know him that well, no. But I still miss him.”
Hurley sighed and started to walk away, but Desmond halted him.
“Wait, brother. Where’s Claire?”
Hurley frowned. “Don’t be stupid, man.”
Desmond tried not to panic, but he was only assuming the worst. “I’m not! Just tell me where she bloody is!”
Hurley looked at Desmond, almost fearful, before walking down the beach and calling back to him over his shoulder. “Go get yourself together, dude.”
“What happened?” Desmond demanded, outraged. “What happened to Claire after Charlie died?”
Mrs. Hawking sighed. “She left, Desmond. Charlie’s death had a similar effect on her as it did Sayid when Charlie was electrocuted. She took Aaron and left.”
Desmond sunk down into his chair and stared at Mrs. Hawking, waiting for her to finish.
“Sometimes you would wake up and find that food was missing. And you would know that Claire came to gather supplies before running off again with her child.”
“So she survived?”
“But then one day…things stopped going missing,” she answered him.
Desmond blinked against his tears.
“You never found bodies…”
“Ok! Ok!” Desmond stopped her. “Enough!”
“I’m sorry, Desmond.”
But she didn’t sound sorry in the least bit.
“Please…lets hurry and get this last death over and done with so I can save him.”
Mrs. Hawking sighed. “Desmond, you’re forgetting about the other thing you must see…”
“I don’t care about that,” Desmond snapped. “If it’s not another death it can’t possibly be any worse than this.”
Mrs. Hawking shook her head sadly and changed the subject. “You should know that this next trip will be the worst.”
“I appreciate the concern,” Desmond said sarcastically. “But I believe I’ve become quite numb to it all.”
“Help! You help!” Jin called out as Desmond turned around. Jin had Charlie in his arms. Charlie was gasping and choking and reaching blindly for someone. Hurley knelt down with Jin and grabbed Charlie’s hands and tried talking to him with his own shaking voice. But all that came out were loud sobs.
“I can’t help!” Desmond cried to Jin, kneeling down as well. “We have to go back!”
Charlie’s entire body started to shake and Desmond gently pushed Hurley away so he could lean over Charlie. “Just try to breathe, yeah?” Desmond whispered. “Don’t try to talk, brother…”
It was almost as if those last words had been a release for Charlie. Right after, he passed.
Desmond lifted Charlie in his arms. He wasn’t going to cry. This was just another stage…something else he’d have to live through before he could save Charlie. Any reactions that his friends had - anything bad that came of it all…it simply wasn’t real.
“It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real,” Desmond repeated to himself over and over as he half-ran back the way he came, trusting that Hurley and Jin were following. He glanced behind him once to see Jin running after him and Hurley jogging behind, struggling to keep up and sobbing.
He went like that for about half an hour longer before he couldn’t take anymore. He stopped and gently set Charlie’s body in the sand on the beach and turned to check on Hurley and Jin.
Jin was there. Hurley was gone.
Desmond’s eyes widened and he and Jin exchanged looks.
“Jin? Where’s Hurley?” Desmond demanded.
Jin turned back to the forest and pointed, yelling in Korean.
“Hurley!” Desmond yelled towards the trees. “Hurley!”
Jin hardly hesitated before running back into the jungle, shouting for his friend.
“Jin! No!” Desmond called after him, starting to follow before turning back to look at Charlie’s unmoving form and swallowing. He couldn’t leave him. He picked Charlie up again and ran back towards the beach.
Another flash and he was with Jack.
“Desmond! I asked you what the hell happened!”
Jack and Desmond were sitting in the sand with Charlie’s body towards the edge of the camp. Jack must’ve ran forward to meet Desmond when he saw him returning with a body.
“It was one of the French woman’s traps!” Desmond exclaimed. “He wasn’t in pain for too long, brother…”
Jack’s eyes were watery and his face was tense as he removed the arrow with trembling fingers. Desmond’s stomach lurched at the sound it made. Jack situated Charlie’s body so his friend’s head was resting against his forearm and he was easily able to hold up his head. He stared at Charlie for several minutes, and Desmond couldn’t help but wonder if Jack had ever been like this with Charlie before - held his limp body as he prayed for him to come back to life. It certainly didn’t seem like the first time.
Kate approached now, but she immediately stepped back with a hand clapped over her mouth when she saw Charlie.
“Go get the sewing kit,” Jack demanded, not taking his eyes off of Charlie. Kate ran back to the camp. Jack glanced over at Desmond. “Where are Hurley and Jin?”
Desmond winced. “Hurley ran off after it happened…Jin went after him.”
Jack’s eyes fell shut and he sighed. “Hurley’s convinced he’s bad luck,” Jack informed Desmond.
Desmond shifted uncomfortably. “Will he be back?”
“If Jin doesn’t bring him back, we’ll go after them tomorrow.”
Desmond nodded slightly and stared at Charlie. Mouth open, blood sprayed all over his throat and clothes…and he finally cried.
Jack frowned at this and failed to meet Desmond’s eyes, afraid that he himself might lose it. Kate finally came back with the sewing kit. And Claire.
Claire took one look at Charlie and collapsed in the sand next to his body. She screamed and hit him until Kate quickly pulled her away and attempted to calm her down. When that didn’t work, Kate had to literally drag Claire back to the camp.
This was too much for Jack and Desmond. They were both crying openly now as Jack stitched up the gaping hole in Charlie’s neck and cleaned the blood off carefully.
Maybe there had been a mix-up. Or maybe Jack had emotionally lost it. Maybe Jack had expected Desmond to protect Charlie…because then Jack brought a solid punch to the side of Desmond’s face.
A flash.
Desmond was walking in the jungle alone, a knife in his hand.
Have to find Penny.
The words sprung to his mind uninvited and he realized why he was there. He spotted the parachutist dangling in the tree and climbed quickly. Charlie had died so she was Penny now. Not Naomi.
He cut her down and jumped from the tree, removed the helmet, and…
Penny.
Her porcelain face was even whiter and unbearably lifeless. Her usually pink lips were pale and slightly parted as if she had been struggling to breathe. He checked her pulse. Dead.
“…No…” Desmond muttered, pulling her closer and resting his forehead against hers as he cried against her cold cheek.
It’s not real. It’s not real…but…
“No!” Desmond screamed at her, shaking her shoulders and half expecting her to open her eyes and show him her lovely smile. But nothing happened. Her head fell back limply and Desmond dropped her on the ground and stood up, backing away slowly and shaking his head. Then he turned and ran.
Desmond
had his face buried in his hands. Finally, he looked up. “What?”
Mrs. Hawking sighed, visibly annoyed. “Charlie’s death from both the trap and the Looking Glass caused the Freighters to come into existence. If Charlie had survived the trap and you went down to the Looking Glass on your own, you would’ve contacted Penny and no one else. But since Charlie died, you brought Penny to the Island and she died too. The only people left for you to contact in the station…were the Freighters.”
“But if Charlie had survived the trap…wouldn’t I just see the vision of him drowning in the Looking Glass and he’d have to go down with me?”
“Desmond! You saw it because you weren’t supposed to let it happen! Have you learned nothing, you sodding lunatic?! Do I have to show you everything again-”
“No!” Desmond yelled, jumping to his feet. “I don’t want to see it all again! I know. I know now. But tell me - what am I supposed to do when I go back to the Looking Glass?”
“I’ll tell you soon,” Mrs. Hawking promised, calm now. “But first you need to travel back one more time.”
Desmond nodded. “You said this isn’t a death. So this means…this means I’ll finally see him alive?”
Mrs. Hawking nodded.
Desmond looked down and smiled, a few tears of happiness dripping from his eyes. “Thank you.”
Mrs. Hawking frowned. “You know, I’m sorry for this, Desmond.”
“You keep saying that. I know. But don’t be sorry about this…this is what I’ve been waiting for.”
“But I am sorry. This is one thing I wish I didn’t have to show you. And yet I think, if you could only know one thing about Charlie…it should be this.”
It had been a few days since they brought Naomi back to the camp and Desmond hadn’t had the chance to check up on Charlie. Things had simply been too hectic and he had forced himself to push his current struggles with his friend to the back of his mind…at least until he had another flash.
He heard muffled sobs coming from inside and he hesitantly pushed back the flap and stepped inside. What he saw was like a stab to the gut.
Charlie was crying into Hurley’s sleeve and the larger man had a comforting arm wrapped around his friend and was talking to him quietly. Whatever he said only made Charlie cry harder and he pressed his face into Hurley’s shirt and clung to his arm.
Hurley noticed Desmond now and glared up at him. “Dude. Get out.”
Instead, Desmond stepped in further and sat with them. “Hurley, what happened-”
“I said get out!” Hurley exclaimed. “This is your fault, anyway!”
When Hurley saw the confused and scared look in Desmond’s eyes, he elaborated.
“He’s been doing this every night, man. You know, ever since you told him. He just doesn’t let it get to him because he doesn’t want you, Claire, or anyone else to see him so scared.”
If Charlie was listening to anything they were saying, he didn’t acknowledge it. It was like he wasn’t there. And, mentally, that was true.
“He didn’t even want me to know,” Hurley continued, his voice hitching. “I just walked in to say good night a few weeks ago and he was just walking in circles and crying and I-”
“That’s enough,” Desmond growled, pulling Charlie off of Hurley. He hardly even got a glimpse of his face before Charlie buried himself into Desmond’s own shoulder and drenched his sleeve.
“Hurley, you need to go…” Desmond ordered. “I’ll deal with this from here.”
“No, dude…” Hurley refused. “He’s my best friend. I can’t-”
“Hurley! You better bloody well do as I say!” Desmond screamed. He could care less if he woke anyone else. His emotions were taking over. “Let me be alone with him!”
“Yeah, like that is going to turn out well…”
“Hurley, I’m begging you,” Desmond softened. “Please. Please go.”
Hurley wanted to wait for Charlie’s permission. But when he didn’t receive it, he turned and left, defeated.
“Charlie…” Desmond said gently, pulling away and holding Charlie back so he wouldn’t hide his face again. His eyes were puffy, swollen, and red. His lips were trembling and his cheeks were flushed. Feeling humiliated, he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and hung his head so Desmond wouldn’t see the full extent of his fear. But Desmond grasped his chin and lifted it back up so he could get a good look into Charlie’s eyes. And what he found there was worse than any vision he had seen with his own.
He found someone who was crumbling on the inside but was too stubborn to ever let it show to people that he cared about. He saw someone that didn’t want to die, despite a less than fortunate existence. Charlie wanted to improve who he was…and he was well on his way to doing so. But now he was going to die before it was accomplished? It wasn’t fair. And, among everything, he found someone who was absolutely terrified beyond all explanation. Someone who had been pushed way too far and was already dangling on the edge. Desmond could bring him back if he tried…but would Charlie come back? Or would he let himself fall?
“Why?” Charlie finally sobbed. “Why does it have to be me?”
“I-I don’t know,” Desmond stuttered. He removed his hand from Charlie’s chin and stared at him sadly.
“You know…you should just let it happen. You said it was pointless. And you were right. You’re always bloody right. Why did I get so sodding mad at you when you told me that?!”
“Because it’s not pointless, Charlie!” Desmond exclaimed. “I can assure you, brother, it’s not pointless in the least bit!”
Charlie shook his head, refusing to believe. “If you won’t…you know…maybe I should just do it.” Charlie climbed to his feet and started pacing. “I could do it. Or someone else. Locke. Locke would do it. And, you know, if Locke would do it…so would everybody else! I’m nothing to them! Just in the way! I’m sure they’d all be happy to schedule an assassination!”
Charlie was laughing through his tears now and Desmond was staring at him in disbelief. Was this what went through his head every night? What had stopped Charlie from suicide if this was his present mindset? Had Hurley been the only thing holding him back?
Hurley had been the only one there with him during times like these. That reality stung Desmond to the core. He hardly even noticed Charlie digging in the bag Desmond had brought in with him.
When he looked back up, Charlie had Desmond’s gun clasped in his hands and he was staring down at it intently. Desmond sprung to his feet, but didn’t go for Charlie just yet. Instead, he pleaded with him.
“Charlie…” Desmond tried, trying not to let his fear come off in his tone. “Put the gun down. Please, pal?”
Charlie didn’t react to the kind words. “How do you take it off safety?” he asked, turning the gun in his hands and frowning at it.
“You really think I’d tell you that?” Desmond asked, his voice noticeably quivering. “I care about you, Charlie. I don’t think you realize just how much I bloody care about you.”
Charlie’s eyes flickered up to meet Desmond’s. And for the first time, maybe Charlie was finally able to accept something Desmond had to say to him. He dropped the gun.
“Des, I don’t want to die.”
Desmond nodded and kicked the gun away before pulling Charlie into a hug. “You’re not gonna die, Charlie.”
He wrapped his arms a little tighter around his friend and helped him lie down, pulling him a little closer. He didn’t care how strange it looked or felt. He needed to give Charlie some sort of reassurance that everything would be fine. He had never been able to do that before.
Looking back, these experiences and situations Desmond had seen were certainly not a stroll through Shambala’s halls - a place where all burdens were lifted and there was nothing to feel but peace and serenity. But at least he was getting one step closer to that reality…and maybe he could prove Shambala wasn’t a myth after all.
“Tell me,” Desmond demanded, turning to Mrs. Hawking. “Tell me what to do.”
“Desmond, you cannot let Charlie turn off the jamming equipment,” Mrs. Hawking demanded. “If he does, he will surely die again and the Freighters will come.”
Desmond nodded. “So there won’t be rescue?” He was willing to make that sacrifice. The first time he convinced himself that it was right for Charlie to die for rescue. But now he was thinking the exact opposite.
“Penny will come, dear. She was searching all along. It’s Penny’s boat now.”
Desmond smiled. It suddenly all made sense. “But if we don’t turn off the jamming, how will she know to come for us? She‘s eighty miles away.”
“When the hatch imploded, her team found the Island on their radar. It’s only a matter of time before it appears on her boat’s radar, as well. You’ll just have to wait. You also need to make sure that Bonnie dies before she can give Charlie the code. That way no one ever has a way of turning off the equipment. Charlie may not appreciate this and he might get snappy.” Mrs. Hawking smiled. “Can you handle that, Des?”
Desmond smiled. “Aye.”
“All right then. It’s time to change it.”
The first time he had been scared, uncertain, and expecting the worst.
But now he had a knowledge that overruled that of his visions. With his visions, he couldn’t save Charlie forever. But with this new knowledge, he knew the truth. And he was thanking God that he - and Charlie - were getting their second chance.
The End
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