Best Thing Ever
Summary:Claire decides that this is not, in fact, at all like the best thing ever, despite what Thomas said.
Rating: PG-13 for some very light language and very light violent imagery.
Disclaimer: Lost and all related characters, settings, plots, etc. belong to J.J. Abrams and ABC. I claim no ownership and make no money from this venture.
Sitting alone on the floor of the jungle, with nothing but humid air to embrace her and crippling pain tearing through her stomach and only a few stray bugs to comfort her, Claire bitterly wished she had never met Thomas in the first place.
What the hell was taking Charlie so long? Didn't he realize that she was freaking in labor over here? This baby was not going to wait for a rescue plane! He was ready to come shooting out now, damn it, and Charlie needed to hurry his arse up!
"It could be like, the best thing ever," Thomas sneered in Claire's head.
The best thing ever. Right. Claire was disgusted with herself as she sat there on the jungle floor, clutching her stomach and cursing Thomas.
Maybe it started off as the best thing ever. Now it was just about the worst thing ever to happen to Claire. If Thomas hadn't knocked her the hell up, she wouldn't be sitting there on a God-forsaken island in the middle of a God-forsaken jungle with God-forsaken contractions ripping through her womb. If he had just let her have an abortion like she'd planned she wouldn't have been here. If she hadn't been naïve enough to lap up his sweet words like a little kitten and actually go through with the pregnancy she wouldn't be here right now.
Basically all responsibility fell on Thomas, and what had he done? Left her. Left her.
The scream that erupted out of Claire had less to do with the pain and a lot more to do with her frustration and anger towards Thomas.
The best thing ever! Is that how one describes bringing another human into the world? Is that as poetic as Thomas, the artist, could get when regarding his firstborn child? That alone should have tipped Claire off immediately that both of them were far too immature to raise a child. Anyone who describes pregnancy as "like, the best thing ever," does not deserve to be within ten feet of any pregnant woman, much less an infant.
Then he had to go with the sucker punch.
"I love you, Claire."
Wham, bam, Claire was out and down for the count. So Claire decided to do it, to become a mother, and even though she was the one going through the hard part –mood swings, swollen ankles, excessive weight gain, odd food cravings, sore back, and the countless other discomforts caused by pregnancy– she had not been the one to freak out. That had been purely Thomas, running away from her like a scared little boy, leaving Claire alone to deal with the hell of going through adoptive services, then being convinced to take a plane ride that eventually led to her sitting on the jungle floor going into labor with no hospital, not to mention a much-needed epidural, in sight. In the end, it was all Thomas' fault.
The contractions were lessening. Claire wasn't sure if that was normal but wasn't about to complain. Maybe this had just been a false alarm. A little wake-up call to remind her to slow it down and take it easy, for the baby's sake.
Charlie came back looking very tired and very sweaty and very much like he had put his all into helping Claire. She was appreciative and felt bad that it had all been for nothing. He didn't seem to mind, bless him. As she looked in Charlie's eyes, seeing how he seemed honest in his efforts to help her and not just the oversized tumor protruding from her stomach, Claire suddenly didn't feel quite so bad. Her anger towards Thomas began to dissipate, slowly, until it was replaced by a very odd emotion that she hardly recognized anymore.
Charlie was a nice guy. A drug addict, yes, and that was disturbing, yet somehow it didn't bother Claire as much as it would have if they were under normal circumstances. Claire, for some reason, found herself beginning to trust him, far more than she trusted Jack or Kate or anyone else on the island.
"It could be like, the best thing ever."
Claire thought about it, reconsidered her earlier conclusions, and decided that yes, perhaps this could turn out to be the best thing ever. Certainly not in the way Thomas envisioned it, but good in its own way. The best thing ever in that Claire was not alone in this. Charlie cared for her and provided stable support for her to lean on. Given her druthers she would be in a nice, comfortable hospital that was sterilized and had controlled temperature and doctors that were experts in birthing. Since that wasn't an option, Claire decided that she had a rather good end of a bad situation.
Then Ethan was there.
And suddenly Claire's good thoughts disappeared.
This was not like the best thing ever.
This was, in fact, much more akin to being the worst thing ever.
It was all Thomas' fault. It all boiled down to the fact that it was the potency of his sperm that had overpowered the Pill and began the baby, which set in motion an unstoppable circle of events that resulted in Claire being in a jungle with a crazy man kidnapping her and Charlie and taking them far away from the doctor who might be able to help Claire.
If we ever get rescued, Claire vowed, I will not rest until I find Thomas and beat his brains out with the curtain rods I installed in his loft.