Title: Fall Away
Characters: Charlie, Claire
Original Post Date: 05/03/2007
Summary: An AU moment where a teenaged Claire pauses to listen to a busker playing on a street corner. Written for the 50darkfics prompt "past"
Disclaimer: Lost is not mine and neither are The Fray
You fall away from your past...but it's following you
The Fray - Fall Away
Once upon a time a girl stopped to listen to a busker on a windswept street corner. Her hair was darkened beyond recognition of her usual blonde, her eyes shadowed with black kohl. The busker was clean but endearingly scruffy at the same time, an unaccountably serious expression fixed upon his face as he launched into a complicated guitar solo.
Glancing up at the passers by he saw the girl watching him and for a moment the two of them regarded each other quite silently. The busy street corner quieted until there was nothing left but the quiet plucking of his guitar strings and the steady rhythm of her breathing.
On a whim, he nodded to her and she instantly turned away from him, her hands wrapped around each other to protect them from the chill air.
She was never to know in that moment that this man was to become a rock star, a heroin addict, the survivor of a horrific plane crash...
She was also unaware that, in the end, fate would inevitably lead him back to her again.
Similarly, he was never to know that at that moment she was grieving for a child she hadn't even known existed and therefore killed – the casualty of a war between a daughter who was determined to drink her way to rebellion and a mother who couldn't make her stop. And even after the pain of miscarrying and the associated heartbreak, she would rise again to the challenge of companionship and motherhood only to be pulled back down again and again by those she chose to give her heart to.
Neither of them were to know that one day they would fall in love only to be bitterly parted once more before their time together was truly finished.
Because whenever you begin to believe that you've finally figured yourself out, your past always catches up to you again.