His Name Was Charlie

A Kate/Charlie Story

She giggled. She couldn't help it. Charlie looked so funny, trying to reach up for the branches, to climb up to reach her. He was far too small, too vulnerable to be of any harm to her, so she didn't keep him at arms length like she did others. She reached out a hand to pull him up, marvelling at how well his hand fitted in hers. She didn't think hands as small as Charlie's could ever harm anyone. His legs scrambled up onto the top branches, his eyes lighting up. Kate gave a mock scream and began to run, laughing as he ran after her. She looked behind her, realised that he would never catch up with her is she didn't slow down. So she did, letting his small hands grab her around the waist and bring her to a halt. He tickled her stomach gently, she screamed with laughter. Suddenly, Charlie drew his hands away. She knew without a word that it was time to go back to camp, time to pretend it had never happened, time to pretend the she was still wondering over which she liked better; Sawyer or Jack.

"Kate?" She looked up, meeting Jack's brown eyes, looking away again. "Come for a walk?" She nodded as she stood up, looking across the beach. She met Charlie's vibrant blue eyes and caught the message in those eyes. She was still thinking about him as she began to follow Jack into the forest.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting to get you alone." Jack said, but she was barely listening. Her mind was focused on Charlie, completely on Charlie. "Kate?" At the sound of her name, she turned and made a valiant effort to banish all thoughts of Charlie from her mind.

"Yes Jack?" She murmured, playing with a strand of her hair absentmindedly. She suddenly noticed how close Jack was to her.

"I love you." He whispered and caught her lips in his. There was a strangled cry from the bushes and she saw a flash of blue and then a sparkle of blonde hair before she heard the sound of running feet. She felt her eyes fill with tears.

"I'm sorry, Jack." He looked up, his smirk fading fast. "But I don't love you." And then she ran, following the tracks that Charlie had made, leaving him far behind.

She was a good runner. She easily caught up with the distraught blonde. Grabbing his arm, she turned him round to face her, looking into his vibrant eyes once more. He blinked and they changed, to cold and hard eyes. She turned away, feeling the familiar pain in her chest. She turned to go, but a hand stopped her. A hand that she had once thought would hurt no one was now bearing down on her flesh as though he could crumble it.

"There was something you wanted to say?" His voice was cold and hard. She gave a gasp of pain and wrenched her hand from his grip. She had barely taken a step before he caught up with her, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look into his eyes.

"You're hurting me," She whispered. He didn't falter, just kept making her staring into those full, oceanic eyes. She saw it in his eyes and her heart froze. She tore away, feeling his finger tips scar her cheek and she ran full pelt into the forest, leaving the last man she loved standing in the forest with blood on his fingers.

"Kate? Who gave you those scratches?" Jack asked, concerned. She cursed herself for not going straight to the beach. Now she had to face the Spanish Inquisition. Although she hated him, she wasn't quiet ready to set the rest of the castaway's anger on him.

"The man who has my blood on his fingers." She retorted, flinching away from his comforting gaze. She hoped and she prayed that Charlie washed his hands before entering the camp. But she knew, deep down, that he wouldn't have. That he would walk calmly into the camp, and be set upon by Jack.

She wasn't sure if she was happy or not.

Kate trailed her hand in the pool, watching the ripples it made. Anything not to look at the spectacle in front of her.

Charlie was tied to one of the trees in front of her, in such a position that he couldn't move. Jack stood over him; one of Locke's many knives in his fist. The rest of castaways surrounded them, anger and hatred in their eyes.

If she looked, she'd meet Charlie's eyes. If she looked, he'd think that it had been she who had told them. If she looked, he would see how much it was hurting her.

Jack touched her shoulder gently.

"Kate." He whispered, taking care not to come to close. "Was it Charlie?" She gave a choked sob. It was enough to convict him.

There was a chuckling sound coming from Jack's throat as he stood over the small Brit.

"You're enjoying this." Charlie's voice rasped out. It was as though he was sticking a knife into her again and again. "You enjoy the fact that I can't fight back. You love the fact you're making yourself look big in front of the rest of them." He would have said more, but he found the knife at his throat. It travelled up his face, just grazing, until it got to his chin, where Jack pressed harder. Kate watched as the dark blood rolled down Charlie's face. "You think it hurts?" Charlie taunted. "If that's all you got, then boy are you lacking!" Jack raised the knife again and Charlie's blue eyes bore into him, willing him to drive the knife in deeper. Suddenly, Jack thrust it down. Charlie swiftly moved, the knife landed in his calf. He closed his eyes quickly, so no one could see his pain. Jack raised the knife yet again.

"Touch him over my dead body." Kate suddenly found her voice. She moved over to where Charlie was slumped, her able fingers untying the tight knots Jack had painstakingly tied. His eyes were firmly closed, she couldn't tell if he was living or dead. When she had finished, he slumped forward onto her shoulders. She supported him gently, then turned around to face the others. "You are extremely lucky I made a vow not to kill anyone else." She left the rest of the threat hanging in the air. Suddenly, people found other things to do and began to walk away, muttering. She pushed Charlie back against the tree and moved her thumb over the cut on the side of his face. "Charlie?" Her voice was a mere whisper, but he heard her. His eyes fluttered open, but they were as cold as before. "Can you walk?" Her voice regained it's no nonsense tone. He nodded brusquely and stood up, swaying slightly. "Are you coming with me?" He nodded again, then slipped forward. Kate caught him just in time. She swung his arm over her shoulder and helped support him back to the beach. As soon as she relinquished her hold on him, he slumped onto his front. She knelt down beside him and pushed him up against a part of the fuselage. Ignoring his protests, she tried to inspect the wound. She tugged his hoodie over his head, and then reached for the zipper on his jeans.

"Leave me alone!" He snapped, trying to turn.

"Look!" Kate was getting infuriated. "I like this just as much as you do, but it has to be done!" He glared at her balefully, but didn't try to stop her again. She eased his jeans down, despite his flushing. "Seems the heartless Brit has a heart after all." She muttered to herself. She settled herself down beside him and began to clean the wound out with salt water, blatantly ignoring his hisses of pain. Unbeknownst to him, she watched him. She saw his eyes go from the bruises visible on her arms to the scars on her face. "How does it feel, I wonder," she mused. "To look on the wreckage you've caused. To look on the wreckage other people have caused to you because of what you've done." He didn't look up again. Eventually, she pushed him away. "That wasn't so bad now, was it?" She asked sweetly, helping him pull his trousers back on.

Kate started. Something (or someone) had woken her. But no one, apart from Charlie, was near her. And Charlie was asleep… She grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. He wasn't asleep.

Tears were glistening on his cheeks, mingling with blood. She watched him with narrowed eyes. He seemed to be trying to say something, but every time he opened his mouth, more tears tracked down his face.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, turning his head away. Kate grabbed his face with both hands, bringing it back around. Then she gave him a ringing slap. He didn't even blink. And she brought her face closer, closer, until their lips met.

It felt good not to worry about whether or not your boyfriend was going to attack you, Kate mused, lying in Charlie's arms. It felt good not to have to decide. It felt good to be able to bask in the warm love someone else gave you. And it felt good to love them back.

"Morning." A sleepy voice murmured in her ear. She turned and grinned.

"Afternoon." She teased as he nuzzled her neck gently. He drew his head back until they were mere centimetres apart. She stared into his blue eyes, feeling the warmth they sent out. He moved closer again. As they kissed, his hands began to do a little exploring. She bit down on his tongue. "I see your plan, Mr Pace." She murmured mock strictly in his ear. "Get me all loved up and then make a move." She bit his ear lobe, hearing him squawk with pain. Then she moved again, back to where his lips were.

"Jack keeps giving me the evils!" Charlie said later that day, as they went to get water. Kate looked over, and, sure enough, the look on Jack's face couldn't exactly be described as friendly.

"Hmm, I wonder why?" Kate mused, stroking an imaginary beard.

"Probably because I'm sexy and he's not."

"Oh yeah, sure."

"Or maybe it's because I got the beautiful girl everyone else wanted." He said, snaking his arms around her waist and bringing her in closely.

"You know he's going to kill you." Kate said, kissing him swiftly.

"So?" Charlie returned the kiss, only this time it was longer and more passionate.

Maybe someone did hear her cries for help.

Maybe God did send an angel down to help her.

Maybe, just maybe, his name was Charlie