Desmond sat on the cold, hard floor of the Looking Glass Station, his knees to his chest and his head in his hands. He didn't know how long he had been sitting there; maybe an hour, maybe only a few minutes. In fact, Desmond didn't know much of anything that may be happening around him. All he could think about was Charlie. A man he had only known a short month, yet a man who had come to be his friend, a man he greatly admired, and a man he had just watched die with nothing he could do to stop it. Charlie had died honorably and Desmond, through all his pain, couldn't help but be proud of him for it. He knew it was how Charlie had wanted to die. He had turned off the jamming equipment and even made contact with Penny. Desmond sighed. Charlie had talked to Penny. His Penny.
Desmond had heard Charlie calling his name. He began to walk towards him and that was when he noticed the man with the eye patch was missing. Desmond started to run now, he needed to warn Charlie. Then, as he was running, he heard something Desmond hadn't expected. He heard the loveliest voice he'd ever heard. Her voice. Penny's voice. She was calling his name- calling to him through a monitor. But he barely had time to get excited before Charlie did something Desmond still didn't fully understand. Charlie had jumped up from the chair where he sat, and ran to the door, shutting it and locking it from the inside. Desmond pounded against the door, yelling at Charlie, wondering what the hell he was doing! Desmond had been looking at the monitor where he knew Penny had been, but he couldn't see her. All he ever had wanted was just to see his beautiful Penny one more time, but the screen had gone blank. Desmond tore his eyes from the equipment and placed them on Charlie, himself. He was standing alone on the other side of the door, looking with a panicked fear at the window which looked out into the ocean. Desmond followed his gaze and saw something that made his heart stop. That one-eyed asshole was swimming outside the glass with a grenade in his hand and he was taunting Charlie with it.
Desmond leaned back against the wall and curled his hands up into fists. His eyes began to tear up.
Desmond yelled at Charlie now, this time begging him to get out of there, but the door was too thick and he knew Charlie couldn't hear him. And as he watched that animal pull the pin and blow open the glass; as he watched the ocean pour through the hole and into the room where Charlie stood, surrounding him; and as he watched Charlie's eyes as the young man realized he was going to die right then in that room, all Desmond could do was scream. Watch and scream. He had grabbed a nearby fire-extinguisher and he pounded it against the door's window, but it did no good. The glass was too thick as well. There was nothing he could do.
Desmond began to sob openly now. He pushed his palms into his eyes, dug his fingernails into his scalp and cried like he hadn't cried in years. He had been so close to Penny, he heard her voice as she had called to him. She knew he was alive. Charlie must have told her and now, she knew for sure he was alive, and he knew she was looking for him. But at what cost? A young man's life. A man who had been so brave, so selfless, and so self-sacrificing. Charlie had had so much to live for. He was young, talented, madly in love and despite the times they got on each other's nerves, Desmond had respected him more than anyone else on the island. Maybe more than anyone he'd ever met in his life. Then there was Claire and Aaron. Charlie's family. Desmond loved seeing them together; loved seeing them play with Aaron, take walks on the beach and laugh together. They always looked so happy and Desmond was often reminded of how he and Penny used to be. Charlie had loved Claire more than anything in the world. She was the reason he was down here in the first place and the reason he now floated lifelessly in the room behind Desmond. Charlie had wanted to save her, to save his family. And he believed, because Desmond had told him so, that only his death would do that. Charlie never doubted it, and he never tried to get around it. He only wanted to save her and her tiny baby boy.
But Claire and Aaron were not the only reason this rock star gave his life, although they were surly the biggest. He had died to save everyone on this god-forsaken rock, including Desmond. After all the times Desmond had saved Charlie, Charlie now saved Desmond with the ultimate sacrifice: with his life. Charlie was a true hero. And Desmond, well, he was still a coward. In his last seconds, Charlie had scrambled to give Desmond the message about Naomi's boat. He had looked at Desmond and nodded making sure he understood what it meant and that he had to go warn everyone back at camp. But how could he do that? How could he leave Charlie's lifeless body floating alone in that room forever? How could he tell the other survivors that Charlie, often the heart and soul of the camp, was dead? That Charlie had knowingly gone to his death to save them. How could he tell Claire? Hurley? And as if that news wasn't bad enough, how could he tell them their hope of rescue was a lie? Charlie had talked to Penny and Desmond had to believe she would come for him, for all of them. But Charlie's death had shattered any hope Desmond once had, as well as any hope Desmond should have gained from hearing Penny's voice. He didn't know how, even with the promise of Penny's search for them, he would get that hope back. If Charlie couldn't escape his fate, how could Desmond?
Desmond once again sat very still. He had cried all the tears he had inside of him and he now closed his eyes and rocked back and forth. After several minutes, Desmond gathered his wits and stood very slowly. He couldn't just sit here and cry anymore. He had to be brave like Charlie had been. He had to deliver Charlie's final message to everyone. He had to make sure that everyone knew what Charlie had done for them, and how much of a hero he truly was. He owed him that. He had to make sure that his dead friend and closest companion during the last month got the respect he deserved. But first, he needed to pay his own respects.
Desmond couldn't bring himself to look inside the window again, but he leaned his forehead against the glass. The image of the last time he saw Charlie burned vividly in his mind.
Charlie had smiled at him through the glass. He was letting him know that it was okay, that he had made his peace. Then he pushed away from the door and with his remaining strength, slowly crossed himself. Desmond had not even known Charlie was, or had ever been, religious. But there he was- having made his peace with Claire and her baby, with Desmond, with Hurley, and with himself- Charlie took his last few seconds and made his peace with God.
Desmond shut his eyes and placed his hand on the glass as he had done against Charlie's own hand in what seemed like another life from this one. Desmond let out a heavy sigh as he thought back to the times he had spent with the young man. Without letting those memories vanish, he quietly said a small prayer for Charlie's soul. Then, still unable to look into the room, Desmond whispered a final 'goodbye, brother', turned and walked away.
Desmond silently rowed the small canoe back to the beach where the survivors had set up their camp. He felt sick to his stomach, as if someone had tied his insides into knots. He had feared he would be coming back alone, but somewhere inside of him, he had held on to the hope that just maybe his visions were wrong and Charlie wouldn't have to die. But that hope had been snatched from him so cruelly and all that remained was pain, sadness and dread. Pain because there was no hope anymore; fate had won. Sadness over the loss of an honorable man and a good friend. And dread for the task that now lay ahead of Desmond: to tell everyone of Charlie's death, and the death of their hope for rescue.
Slowly, their camp came into view. There was only a handful of people present- everyone else must not be back yet. Desmond groaned, now this awful news would have to be delivered twice. The boat finally hit shore and Desmond looked up to see Hurley running towards him, but he stopped suddenly when he realized there was only one person getting out of the little boat. His best friend had not returned. Hurley, more slowly, resumed walking towards Desmond and they were soon joined by Sayid and Bernard. They also had noticed Charlie's absence and now all three of them wore looks of fearful sadness. Further away, Desmond could see Jin, Sawyer and Juliet digging what appeared to be a large hole. Desmond couldn't face them, so he began to move things around in the boat, pretending to be busy.
It was Sayid who finally broke the silence, "Where's Charlie?"
It was a simple question, but Desmond hated Sayid for asking it. They knew where Charlie must be-- dead. Were they really going to make him say it? Desmond pretended not to hear and continued to gather things from the boat until Sayid, in one fast movement, grabbed Desmond and forced him to look at him. Sayid held Desmond in a tight grip and stared him down, asking again more forcefully, "Where is Charlie?"
Desmond looked up into Sayid's dark, piercing eyes, then to Bernard who had a numb look of shock on his face; to Hurley, who just stared at him, his face almost completely emotionless. Then, Desmond looked over Hurley's shoulder at Jin and Sawyer who had joined the group around Desmond- Juliet had turned away, continuing to dig their hole. They all knew the answer to Sayid's question and only needed Desmond's confirmation. With a sigh Desmond bowed his head and shook it. That was enough; all that needed to be done.
Sayid's grip on Desmond's arms loosened and fell. He didn't say anything more, only looked at the boat with a sadness Desmond had not known the Iraqi to possess. Hurley had turned his eyes to the ocean, whispering something inaudible under his breath. Jin, Sawyer and Bernard just stood with their heads bowed, not knowing what to say or do. Desmond couldn't take their grief. They seemed to be waiting for him to say something, but Desmond had nothing he could say now. Instead, he grabbed his bag from the boat and left them standing there. He walked back to his tent and fell to the ground, cursing himself for being too cowardly to comfort Charlie's friends.
Desmond woke up to the sound of laughter and happiness. He winced, how could anyone be happy at a time like this? He looked outside his tent to see the rest of the survivors joyously returning. Jin and Bernard had run to their wives and were now kissing and embracing them tightly. Sawyer had gone to Kate and they were talking rapidly, until Kate smiled and hugged him close as well. Juliet awkwardly approached the group, heading straight to Jack who held Naomi's phone in his hand. Desmond could see it was working and Jack excitedly was telling those who had been at the camp that Charlie had done it and rescue was on its way. But Desmond scoffed when Jack just continued to jab on without even noticing Charlie's absence. Desmond stood up quickly. He had dreaded bringing this news to the rest of the group, who he had just moments before envied for their ignorance as they victoriously returned to their camp; but now, he was just angry; angry at them for not even showing the least bit of concern for the man who had given his life to turn off the jamming equipment that had been preventing their rescue. He wanted to ruin their happiness and make them feel the same pain he was feeling.
Desmond stormed out of his tent and was heading straight for Jack when a wee figure caught his eye and stopped him in his tracks. Claire. She was standing alone close to her tent, holding her baby in a blanket that was tied around her shoulder. Her eyes were scanning the beach looking for something. No, Desmond thought, looking for someone- looking for Charlie. His heart suddenly softened and filled once again with dread. He became aware of the piece of paper in his front pocket and how Charlie had asked him to give it to Claire. He wanted to go to her and give her this piece of Charlie the young man had left behind for her, but doing so meant he would have to tell her why Charlie was not delivering it himself, and how could he ever tell the young mother that she would never see the man she cared about most again.
Desmond stood frozen, unable to move or speak and barley able to breath and before he could move again, he saw Hurley approach her. She looked up at him and smiled sweetly, he did not return the smile. From his place several meters away, Desmond could see Claire's eyes fill with worry and turn back to the beach.
Faintly, Desmond heard her voice shake as she asked, "Is Charlie back yet?"
Desmond's heart shattered and he looked away. The poor girl still had hope, she still believed Charlie would be okay and would return to her and her baby. Desmond looked back to see Hurley had bowed his head and silent tears were dripping from his eyes. Claire was staring back at him, terrified of his answer. But it came, although Desmond could barley hear it, "He's not coming back, Claire."
Desmond wanted to look away, but he couldn't. At Hurley's words Claire had taken a step back and was now staring at him in total disbelieve. She shook her head, "What do you mean, he's not coming back?" Hurley shifted uncomfortably, and brought his eyes to Claire's face for only a second before looking at the ground again. "I'm… so sorry, Claire." Hurley said in a pained, choked up voice, "Desmond-- Desmond came back alone."
Claire shook her head again, her eyes wide and tearful. "No" she said quietly. Her head began to shake faster, "No, no, no" she repeated. Aaron had begun to squirm and cry in her grasp, but Claire hardly seemed to notice. Hurley looked at her sadly, "Claire—". She shot her head up at him, and glaring screamed again "No, you're lying!"
Desmond lowered his eyes once more. He had dreaded so much telling Claire and he felt awful that Hurley was doing it for him. He wanted to go relieve Hurley of that burden, but he still couldn't bring himself to move. Desmond noticed the beach had suddenly gone silent, except for Aaron's cries. He looked up to find almost everyone staring at Claire. A few people were looking around the beach, some at Desmond himself, but there was no doubt everyone guessed what Claire had yelled about. Desmond brought his eyes back to Claire to find her glaring straight back at him. She marched over to him, holding her crying baby tightly to her chest.
She looked him straight in the eye and demanded "Where is he, Desmond!" Desmond couldn't look her in the eye; he couldn't look at Aaron either, so he stared once again at his feet. Desmond tried to say something to her, but "I'm sorry, Claire. I tried--" was all he could get out.
"You tried? You tried what? Where is he?!" She demanded again.
Desmond knew she wasn't going to give up, that he would have to give her the hard truth without dancing around it anymore; just get this awful moment over with. Desmond took a deep breath and said in a voice that couldn't be his own, "He's dead, Claire. Charlie's dead"
Claire stared at him for what seemed like ages, her glare had softened, but her eyes were wide now with disbelief; Desmond wished she was still glaring. She began to shake her head again. She wasn't going to believe it without a fight, but her defense was weakening and tears had begun to leak from her eyes. She opened her mouth several times as if she was trying to say something, but had no words to say. Aaron was crying even louder now but through his cries Desmond just heard Claire whisper, "Charlie…" her voice begging as she looked to the waterline through her tears, as if hoping he would walk out and tell her this was all a cruel joke. Desmond couldn't blame her, he wished the same thing.
Suddenly, as if a whole new person had taken hold of Claire, she glared at Desmond again and this time began to hit him. "You!" she screamed, "This is your fault! You were supposed to protect him!" Her voice cracked as she continued to scream, "I trusted you and you were--" Her words broke off and she broke down crying again, but she still continued to hit at Desmond although with much less aggression.
He didn't try to stop her or to defend himself, he blamed himself too. Sun ran up behind Claire and pulled her away without much difficulty. The girl's defenses were completely gone. Her baby was wailing at the top of his lungs now and Sun tried to take him to calm him, but Claire fiercely pushed her away. "Leave me alone!" she yelled. But Sun didn't leave her, instead she said Claire's name soothingly and tried to take Aaron again. "No!" Claire screamed, pushing Sun away again, "You're not taking my baby!" Sun sighed sadly, stopped reaching for Aaron, sat Claire down on the sand and rubbed her back as the younger woman cried into her shoulder. Desmond could see tears had begun to fall from Sun's eyes as well.
Desmond didn't know what to do or what to say to Claire. She was right, he was supposed to protect Charlie, instead he lead him straight to his death. All the other survivors were watching Claire now, most with looks of sympathy. A thick silence had come over the group, broken only by Claire and Aaron's mournful sobs and Sun's attempt to sooth them. Jack was the only one not looking at Claire. He had placed his sharp gaze on Desmond himself, demanding he start talking.
When Desmond didn't fulfill his silent request, Jack said sternly "What happened out there, Desmond." Desmond shifted. They were all looking at him now, except Claire who continued to cry into Sun's shoulder. Desmond knew he couldn't keep it from them any longer and Desmond wanted to tell them. He wanted to tell them about Charlie's heroic final days, but now that the time had come, he couldn't do it. How could he? Charlie's last day alive had not been happy at all; in fact, it had been quite painful. The pain of saying goodbye to everyone he loved knowing he'd never see them again. The pain of knowing this was his last day to live. The pain he endured in the hands of those women, who tied him to a chair and beat him; and the pain of death itself. How could Desmond tell them that Charlie had spent his last night on earth in the hands of his enemies, who tortured and murdered him? He couldn't. However, he also knew he couldn't deny Charlie the praise he deserved, and he had to warn them about Naomi. So Desmond began to talk and he told them everything else.
He told them about his visions, giving the details of the last one. He told them how Charlie had accepted that he had to die as soon as he learned it was to save Claire and Aaron; how Charlie had bravely volunteered to swim down to the station without any hesitation; how he had said goodbye to everyone he loved so he could be the one to save them; how he refused to let Desmond take his place; how he broke the code to unjam the equipment, a job only a musician could do; how Desmond had seen him speaking to Penny; how he locked himself inside his own watery grave to ensure he, Desmond, had gotten out safely to deliver Charlie's final message- that Naomi was lying, and her boat wasn't who they thought it was.
When Desmond finished he looked around, some of the survivors had tears in their eyes, but most of them just stood there in shock, like they didn't believe anything Desmond had just said. They couldn't believe scrawny, little Charlie Pace had heroically laid down his life in an attempt to save them all. But it was Jack's look which confused Desmond the most. Jack had a mixture of at least four expressions on his face: shock, grief and anger were all prominent and in his eyes Desmond could see a spark of suspicion. Suspicion! Desmond couldn't believe it, but there it was, hidden in Jack's dark, tearful eyes. Desmond's anger filled him again. How dare Jack look at him like that? He was about to demand what the hell was going on in the doctor's head when Jack spoke first. "Are you sure?"
The question dumbfounded Desmond and he yelled, "Am I sure about what, Jack?! That Charlie swam to his death to save your sorry ass? Yeah, I'm sure!"
Jack's face scrunched up and he turned away for only a second. "No, Desmond," He said quietly. "Are you sure about Naomi?"
For some reason this question made Desmond even angrier. Did Jack even care about Charlie? Desmond stared hardly back at Jack, not answering his question. Jack slowly said, "How would Charlie know-"
"Did you not listen to anything I just said?!" Desmond cut him off. He was practically shaking with anger, his face had undoubtedly turned a redish purple color, but he didn't care. Jack was still looking at him with that spark of suspicion and that had pushed Desmond over the edge. "Charlie talked to Penny! That's how he knew! And as the last thing he ever did, as he was drowning, Charlie made sure I got the message! So that I could come back here and warn you lot. He locked himself in that room so that I would have to come warn you. And you're not even going to believe him!"
"Desmond!" Kate interrupted sharply. "Jack is only-"
"Jack doesn't care about anything but saving himself! He doesn't care that Charlie's dead. Charlie died to save him, to save all of you, and you're not even upset about it." Desmond was on a full fledged rampage now and he couldn't stop himself, "Charlie's the real hero and a better man than any of you will ever be. All you can think about is getting yourself off this island. You don't care that someone died so you could do that!"
"Shut up!" Jack yelled. He had now turned red, himself, veins popping out of his face, and was glaring at Desmond with pure rage. He marched threatenly towards him as he yelled back "How dare you say I'm not upset about Charlie! He was one of the first people I met on this island! We've been though things you don't even know about! I've known him longer than you, and I knew him better than you! He saved my life once before!" Jack broke off, closed his eyes and took a slow deep breath, pausing for a minute before continuing. "But what am I supposed to do, Desmond?" Jack continued, his voice now filled with sadness. "While we were on that hill, Ben told me I couldn't call these people because it would kill us all. I thought he was just saying it to keep us on the island, but now you're telling Charlie said the same thing? You yourself said Charlie died to save us all. Well, these people are on their way to this beach and if what Charlie and Ben are saying is true, then if we don't deal with this now, no one's getting saved and Charlie will have died in vain."
Desmond could only stare back. Ben had known Naomi was trouble? That explained Jack's suspicion. It felt so wrong to just forget about his dead friend, but Jack was right. Desmond knew he was; Charlie had died wanting to save Claire and Aaron, and right now, the best way to honor him is to make sure he got his wish. They would have to mourn for Charlie later.
He looked around the group of castaways and was once again filled with pity for them. They were all standing there scared; many of them now had tear streaks down their faces. Once again Desmond didn't know what to say or do. He looked to Claire, sitting in the sand at his feet. Both she and her baby had stopped crying, but Aaron continued to squirm in her arms as she held him tightly to her chest. Her usually bright blue eyes were empty and unfocused as she stared out to sea. Sun still had her arm wrapped around Claire, but she was looking from Jack to Desmond and back to Jack.
Everyone was looking to Jack, waiting for him to tell them what to do. But Jack just stood there too, his face screwed up as he blocked out tears. Then, without a word, he walked away. Desmond turned his head and watched him as he went to the kitchen area where the survivors often gathered. Once there, Jack stood still for a second, before throwing the phone in his hand against the ground, putting his hands up in fists and kicking the table leg hard. In almost the same movement, Jack bent over the table, put his head in his hands and began to cry.
Many of the other survivors began to turn away as well and went back to their tents. Locke, Sayid, Kate, Sawyer and Juliet went to Jack and they began talking about the news they had just received, planning what to do next. Some of the other survivors lurked close to them, waiting for instruction.
Soon only Sun, Jin, Claire and Desmond remained. Desmond kneeled down beside Claire, whose unseeing gaze had not left the waterline. He knew there was nothing he could say that would comfort her at this time, so he took Charlie's paper out of his front pocket. Desmond had dived down to the station with this paper tucked in his pocket, but by some God-granted miracle it had remained undamaged. He put one hand gently on Claire's shoulder and with the other held the paper out to her, gesturing her to take it. She eventually looked at the note and then looked to Desmond before turning her eyes back to the ocean.
"What is it?" she asked in a distant, hollow voice. "Charlie asked me to give it to you. He said-" but before he could finish Claire slapped his hand away and turned a piercing gaze back on Desmond once again, "I don't want it!" she screamed, "I don't want his goodbye note! He's just another liar. He said he wouldn't leave me, but he did! Just like every other man! And I won't take his stupid note!" And with that she stood and still holding her son tightly to her chest, stormed away from Desmond and Sun.
Sun looked to Desmond and smiled sadly before standing up and leaving with Jin as well. Desmond closed his eyes tightly and rubbed his head- he had such a headache. The air felt so warm and thick and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach again. He got up slowly and slumped back to his tent, his feet dragging. Desmond shot a glance at the kitchen where the leaders of the group still stood in a circle arguing. Desmond felt dizzy and his vision started to blur as he flopped down on the blankets that covered the sand under his tarp. He almost envied Charlie right now; at least for him, the nightmare was over. Desmond couldn't escape it if he tried, fate would always win and it was Desmond's fate to stay right where he was, unhappy and alone forever.
The sun had just begun to set by the time Desmond woke again. His head still pounded and he wanted to lie there for as long as possible, but his throat was raw and he needed a drink badly. Desmond grabbed his empty water bottle and forced himself up. He began to walk to fill up his bottle when Claire once again caught his eye. This time she was sitting in her tent but she was still staring at the ocean. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. Aaron was asleep in the same blue blanket that was still tied around her shoulder. Desmond was sure she hadn't put him down since she returned. He changed his course and walked up to the girl.
"May I sit?" he asked gently. She didn't answer, she didn't even acknowledge him. Desmond took a seat next to her anyway. He joined her stare into the horizon for a minute before turning to Claire herself. To look at her pained him so much. Her eyes were vacant and their usual sparkle was gone. Her face was tear streaked and bore all the pain Desmond himself was feeling and more. Desmond needed to comfort her; Charlie wouldn't want her to be like this over him. But Desmond felt so guilty. He had been the one that brought this upon Charlie. If he had just kept his bloody mouth shut and protected the kid without him knowing, Charlie would be sitting here with Claire, not Desmond. He had wanted to rescue her, but that was no comfort to the girl sitting next to him. It was painfully obvious from the way she looked out to sea, right now, she didn't want to be rescued; she wanted her Charlie back.
But Desmond couldn't take the silence anymore. So he said slowly the only thing he could think of to comfort her. "I know it doesn't really help right now, but he was at peace." She didn't respond at all; she didn't even blink. Desmond waited and decided what to say next, when she spoke. "Did it hurt?" Desmond started at the sound of her voice, but as gently as he could he answered, "No. He would have just slipped into unconsciousness, and he was very calm about the whole thing. He wouldn't have felt much of anything."
Claire closed her eyes hard. When she finally opened them again, she turned her face towards Desmond. "You were with him?" The question ripped at Desmond's soul. Tears began to come to his own eyes again as he remembered Charlie's face as he looked at him through the glass. "Aye, I was with him as much as I could be. He smiled at me, just before he pushed away from the door. He really was at peace"
Claire only nodded. Desmond could see the girl was still in a numb state of shock, but his words seemed to be offering her some comfort and he was glad he could give that to her.
"What does it say?" She asked in a distant voice. Desmond blinked, "sorry?"
She let out a long sigh and turned to him again, "That paper. What does it say?"
"I haven't read it." Desmond answered. "But, he said it was the best five moments of his life."
"Why does he think I would want something like that?" Claire retorted sharply.
Desmond looked at her for a long time, considering her question. He thought back to every moment he had seen Charlie with Claire. That had always been when he seemed happiest; the only time when the foretelling of his own death didn't seem to loom over him. He thought to how Charlie had reacted to the news that he was to die to save this young mother and how he'd watched him say goodbye. "Charlie loved you more than anything, Claire. I guess he wanted you to have a part of him, his favorite parts of him… to remember him by."
At Desmond's words, tears began to run down Claire's face again. Some of them fell from her face to her sleeping baby, who moved a little at the touch, but did not wake up. "Do you have it?"
Desmond nodded and reached his hand into his front pocket, pulling out the folded piece of paper. He handed it to her and looked away as she slowly unfolded the damp list. He felt like he should leave; like this was a private moment Claire was sharing with Charlie through his writing- their last private moment- and he was invading. But Desmond, out of the comer of his eye, saw Claire began to break down again. She was holding Aaron closer to her chest now and the end of paper was crumpled in her tight fist. She began to sob. "I can't do this! I can't do this without him! Charlie's always been there for me, no matter how I treated him. He's always been…" Her sobs broke her off.
Desmond tentatively put a comforting arm around her, and Claire leaned into him, gripping his shirt with her empty hand. "I never even told him thank you" she cried. "I never told him how much I appreciated every thing he did for us. I never told him how much I missed him when he wasn't around and how he made this awful place better. I never told him how I loved him."
Desmond's heart felt in a twisted knot and tears fell again from his own eyes. He felt so out of place, with his arms around Claire like they were, with her baby between them; he had never been good at comforting people. But he rubbed her back slowly as she cried and whispered to her, "I think he knew, Claire"
Desmond didn't know how long he and Claire remained that way. Claire finally had cried herself dry, but she didn't detach herself from Desmond. She needed someone to be with her and now that Charlie was gone, she didn't seem to know who to turn to. The sun had sunken lower in the sky now, but it still gave off its last light. Desmond was lost in thought when a shadow passed over him and Claire. He looked up to find Hurley standing over them. His eyes were just like Claire's: pained and lacking their usual spark. He kneeled down next to Claire and put a hand on her shoulder as well. Claire jerked as if she had been brought back to the living world by his touch. He looked at her with deep sympathy and then to Desmond.
"There's something I think you two should see" he said, his voice also lacking in its usual charm. He rose to his feet and helped Desmond pull Claire to hers. The mother adjusted her grip on her small child in the blanket and tucking Charlie's note in her pocket, allowed herself to be lead to the kitchen area where Desmond could see most of the camp gathered. Many of them were hunched over the makeshift table and were writing on small pieces of paper.
Desmond could see an empty bottle sitting in the middle of the table; it had several of these pieces of paper already rolled up in it. "What is this?" Desmond asked looking to Hurley for an explanation.
"Before we opened up your hatch, we built this raft and four of us left on it hoping to find rescue. It didn't work, but before they left Charlie had this idea. He got an empty bottle and handed out paper to everyone so they could write a little note to their families and he put them in the bottle and gave them to the people on the raft"
Desmond smiled faintly for the first time since Charlie's death. Message in a bottle. How clever. How Charlie. Desmond could just imagine him running around the beach harassing everyone, getting them to write a note.
"I thought that since there's-, since he's not here and with these people coming we don't have time for a real memorial, this way we still can say-, say goodbye, you know." Hurley's voice was strained as he struggled for every word and he was on the verge of tears, but he kept talking anyway. Desmond got the impression he didn't want to stop. "People are just writing down anything they want. Memories or just short goodbyes. Whatever you want. I thought it'd be a way to, you know, remember him"
Hurley had begun to cry again and he looked to his feet. Desmond put his hand on the man's shoulder. He could see how much the situation was tearing Hurley apart, but even so he had managed to come up with this idea to honor his best friend. "It's a great idea, Hurley. I'm sure Charlie would really appreciate it." Hurley nodded and turned to hand him and Claire a pen and some paper.
Desmond didn't actually want to write anything. He had already said goodbye to Charlie and he couldn't bear to do it again. But he could tell it meant a lot to Hurley, so Desmond, thinking back to an old prayer from his days as a monk wrote, "May God bless and keep you in His loving embrace, Charlie." Then he added, "You deserve it more than anyone."
Desmond rolled up his note and stuffed it in the bottle. Many of the other castaways had finished theirs already and were heading back to their tents; many giving Hurley or Claire a sympathetic smile or squeeze on the shoulder before leaving. He looked around at those who still remained. There were a handful of them still writing, but the one that caught his eye was John Locke. The man sat with his back to the pole which supported the covering. Desmond could see one sheet of paper already filled, front and back, and John was now working on a second one.
Desmond was moved to see the bottle so full of paper. It seemed that while many had been shocked Charlie would give his life for them, that didn't mean they didn't have some kind of attachment to the young man. Everyone was affected by his death in some way. That was the biggest tribute of all and once again, Desmond smiled as he thought about it.
Desmond looked down at Claire standing next to him. She had the pen placed over her sheet of paper, but she had not written anything on it. Noticing his gaze, she cried, "I don't know what to write." Desmond knew how she felt- how do you say goodbye to your closest friend? Thinking back to her cries from earlier, Desmond offered the only thing he could, "Maybe you could say 'thank you' now?" She didn't move at first, just continued to stare at the paper until very slowly she wrote:
Charlie,
-For always getting me what I needed- water, blankets, peanut butter
-For your stupid jokes that always made me smile
-For standing by me when no one else would
-For always being there to comfort me
-For all your help with Aaron
-For loving us more than I could love you
-For understanding that I needed time and never pushing me
-For teaching me to trust again
I could never thank you enough, but I'm sorry I never even tried. No one could ever love me as much as you did and I will never love anyone as much as I could have loved you. I already miss you more than you could possibly know and I will never forget you and everything you did for me and Aaron
-Claire
Tears were falling from her eyes again. Desmond didn't know how the girl had any tears left inside her, but none the less the drops fell from her face and splashed on the paper. She picked up the paper and looked it over before bringing it to her lips and kissing it lightly. Then, with one last glance at her words, she rolled it up and added it to the bottle.
Locke had finished his note and added it as well. That was everyone. A crowd of survivors had lingered behind watching as Hurley took the bottle and closed it.
"Now what?" someone behind Desmond asked. Hurley grasped the bottle tightly in his hands, "I thought we could throw it into the ocean. Since that's where- where he is."
From where he had been standing in the corner, Jack came towards Hurley nodding and placed his hand on Hurley's shoulder. "That's good, Hurley" Jack said softly. He picked up a marker from the table and silently asked for the bottle. Hurley passed it to him and Jack read aloud as he wrote on the bottle:
In Loving Memory of Charlie Pace
A good friend, musician-
"Father" Claire interrupted. Everyone looked to her. She was looking down at her sleeping boy in her arms, "Say he was a father." Jack nodded and continued
"A good friend, musician, loving father and a true hero"
Jack passed the bottle back to Hurley. He squeezed his shoulder again and sympathetically said, "Do what you need to, but don't take too long. We all need to talk about what's next."
Hurley began to walk toward the shore line, Desmond and Claire followed him. Everyone else stayed behind. Desmond guessed they felt this was a personal moment for Charlie's three closest friends and didn't want to intrude.
The three walked a short distance from the beach where the bottle would land in an area that wasn't likely to just bring it right back to shore. They stood at the edge of a small cliff, the water crashed below them. The trio stood in silence for several minuets, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Desmond glanced at his companions and was overcome with grief. Hurley, Claire and Aaron, Charlie's two best friends, and the people he cared about more than his own life. Both of them were so grief struck it hurt to look at them. Hurley was usually the life of camp, always keeping morale high, and Claire was their sweetheart. Neither of them smiled now. Desmond wondered how long it would be before they could. Aaron had woken up in his blanket, but he didn't cry. He just looked up at his mum with his big blue eyes, and reached towards her with his little arms. She turned her eyes back down at him and took his tiny hand in hers. The action seemed to somehow comfort her, yet tears filled her eyes again.
Hurley looked down at her and handed the bottle out to Claire, "Would you like to…" She let go of Aaron's hand and took the bottle, nodding slightly. She held on to it for a minute, reading the message Jack had written one last time, before taking a deep breath and tossing it into the ocean. The three of them stood there, watching the bottle float away into the setting sun.
Desmond closed his eyes and was reflecting on the silence, when it was interrupted by a distant yet approaching sound: a helicopter. Desmond opened his eyes and glanced at Hurley and Claire. They had heard it too. "We need to get back" Desmond said urgently yet gently knowing leaving this spot was going to be hard for the pair. But they understood, and began to walk back towards camp at a quick pace.
The sound of the helicopter was getting closer and Desmond couldn't help but feel nervous. He didn't know what was going to happen next, but he knew one thing: Charlie had frantically gotten this message to Desmond as he was drowning; he had needed Desmond to warn the camp, which Desmond had; but his job wasn't over yet. Claire was walking next to him, her baby wrapped in her arms and Desmond wasn't going to leave her side until he was certain she was safe. He owed Charlie that; he had to make sure the man who had died to save them all, but in particular to save this young mother and her child, got his dying wish.