Too Little, Too Late by Luvscharlie

Perhaps he shouldn't blame her for marrying the werewolf. But, he did. He felt betrayed, and that should have been it for Charlie, but love didn't much work that way.

He'd come back the night Bill had been attacked by Greyback, the night Remus had hurt her with his rejection, and she'd sought comfort in his arms. Not the werewolf's. His.

The Battle of Hogwarts was in full swing by the time Charlie got there. The story of his life, really. Always a day late, a Sickle short. His eyes scanned the crowd, seeking her out. Charlie had loved Tonks for as long as he could remember, but he had been selfish, never putting her first. He regretted that, once more, too late.

He'd seen Bellatrix take Remus down in the battle, and raise her wand in Tonks' direction. He acted on instinct, out of love for her, throwing himself in the path of the green light that emanated from the tip of the Death Eater's wand. He'd failed Tonks so many times in life, refusing to commit to her, never able to be quite what she needed, but he'd been there when it counted. He'd died in her place.

Death was the next great adventure, it was true, or at least Charlie thought it was probably true for most people. For him, not so much. Some would never understand why he chose to stay behind, refusing to pass through the veil that might bring him peace. There was a time he wouldn't have believed it a choice he'd make either… but that was before.

When he really thought about it, Charlie had to laugh. He'd successfully avoided any semblance of commitment in life, only to be claimed as love's bitch in death. He didn't miss the irony of the situation.

He'd had few things to which he was connected—truly bound by, but the small child with the spattering of freckles across his nose and the dimple in his cheek—his child—that was what held him here—what tied him to this world, when he belonged in another. Tonks had bid him go on, to find the peace that death should have brought him, but he could not. He needed to be here to watch Teddy grow, to float nearby as he slept, the pout of his bottom lip making Charlie grin in the middle of the night.

Charlie stayed behind… bound by his love for her, his love for his child, realising too late what it was that made life worth living. It wasn't a job, or an unseen adventure, it was those to whom you were connected that mattered.

And Charlie was connected. Bound in death, as he'd never been in life, to love something—someone—more than himself.

Once more, too little, too late.

Fin.

A/N: Originally written for Round 1, Challenge 6 of the CW_LDWS (Charlie Weasley Last Drabble Writer Standing) Competition on Live Journal. Our prompt was Charlie is dead, under 750 words. You can imagine how much difficulty I had writing dead Charlie. Not fun, not fun at all. This entry made it through to the next round.