SUMMARY: She didn't want to be sitting here, alone, in the middle of the jungle, praying to God that she didn't make the biggest mistake of her life. AU, Charladay.
A/N: Seeing as I'm still angry over Charlotte's very untimely demise (why must Lost kill off all the good female characters?), I have decided to put all of my rage into writing fanfiction. To all the fans of Misinterpretation, I will repost as soon as I switch the formatting.
Enjoy! – Yaryna
For the first time in her life, Charlotte Staples Lewis was scared out of her wits.
It shouldn't be like this.
She had been through so much that would frighten any normal person. Living in deserts with tribes who wanted to kill you and eat your flesh one minute and be your friend the next, waking up in the middle of a bloody snowstorm that threatened frostbite with your tent gone and sleeping bag barely covering you, and surviving that horrible journey to this craphole island and surviving homicidal maniacs and a smoke monster that, well, she didn't know what it did, but it sounded horrible, on aforementioned island.
Yet nothing had scared her more than the little white stick she was holding in her hands but could hardly bring herself to look at.
She knew exactly when it had happened – if, of course, it was a worst-case scenario. It was about a…month and a half ago? Well, after the Kahana blew up, for a more specific time, she can't remember the date for the life of her. There was tension in the air, it was a hot, humid night, and the Dharma beer they were drinking wasn't helping. She remembers her and Dan stumbling to their tent, laughing at their clumsiness. She remembers kissing him.
And what came after.
The specific details are a bit fuzzy, but she does remember feeling; his hands all over her, his mouth whispering promises against her skin, her screaming his name. Waking up the next morning, fully hung-over and in his arms. She dressed and escaped into the jungle to vomit up the remnants of last night's dinner, the alcohol, and her guilt.
He tried to approach her over it, apologizing for taking advantage of her; she shrugged it off and told him they were both drunk out of their minds, so he hadn't really taken advantage. She also made him swear to never bring it up again, to pretend like it never happened.
Until this.
She had chalked it up to a stomach virus when she had first felt sick. When she couldn't stand the sight of food, she figured that for some ungodly reason, she had gotten the flu. When the symptoms continued, she gritted her teeth and ignored them. When Rose had told her she was glowing, Charlotte added up all of her symptoms, and to her horror, realized that they were the exact same ones that her mum had when she had gotten pregnant with her sister Christine nineteen years ago and then her sister Cheryl four years later.
And that is how she ended up here, sitting on a rock, holding her breath and a Dharma pregnancy test swiped from Juliet's medical kit.
She didn't want to be sitting here, alone, in the middle of the jungle, praying to God that she didn't make the biggest mistake of her life. Given the choice between waiting for two minutes that would decide her life forever or being eaten alive by lions, she gladly would take the latter. It wasn't the results she could stand, it was the waiting. She would give anything to have those two minutes hurry up and tell her. She needed to know.
Looking up at the sun, Charlotte figures she's been sitting there for long enough. One deep, shaky breath later, she looks down to see the results.
Her heart – and stomach – drop to the bottom of the Earth.
A/N 2: So, what do you think? Please review, I really would like to hear your thoughts about how this could be better! As for the camp still being there, let's say Ben didn't move the donkey wheel and everything is as it should be.