Title: Bound by Fate
Rating: PG
Summary: Charlie is taken by the Others and becomes convinced that rescue is not in Claire's best interests after all. An exciting B-Team adventure!
Characters: Charlie, Mikhail, Richard, Desmond, Sayid, Hurley, Alex, Claire, Jack, and more
Word Count: 6575
Warning: Some spoilers through the season three finale but most of it I made up.
Disclaimer: I don't own Lost as you know.
They had been beating him for the last twenty minutes. Desmond decided if it went on any longer he would have to do something. Charlie's face was bloody and swollen; he was struggling to hold his head up to deliver one cheeky remark after another. To Desmond's pleasure it appeared as though Charlie was wearing his enemy down verbally. As hard as it was to believe given he was the one tied to a chair and being tortured, Charlie actually seemed to have the upper hand. His tormentors were clearly acting more out of frustration than control.
Desmond watched through the vent of the storage locker with the harpoon loaded and ready in his hand, waiting for the right opportunity to make his presence known. He felt the pain with every punch Charlie received as his own guilt smacked him in the face. He was the reason Charlie was here in the first place. Desmond had told his English friend that he had to do this in order for Claire and her baby boy to be rescued. Charlie had accepted his mission and his cruel fate without question. It was more than Desmond would have done.
The blonde woman had had enough. She was threatening Charlie with a spear gun and a painful death. Desmond winced and then tensed as the woman made her way towards the lockers. Charlie, knowing Desmond's hiding place was about to be revealed, promised he'd be quiet and begged her to come back. Desmond put his hand on the trigger of the gun and held his breath, when suddenly the woman turned to face the moon pool.
It was the one-eyed man who had saved Naomi's life, the one Sayid had said was called Mikhail Bakunin. He emerged in scuba gear and began speaking to the women, asking why they were there. Desmond exhaled and returned to observing. They were discussing Ben's order to block all communication signals from the island.
"This one says he's here to turn the jammer off," explained the dark haired woman, pointing to Charlie. "But only Bonnie, Ben and I know the code."
"I don't care," said Charlie, still defiant. "I'm going to do it anyway."
Mikhail slowly moved across the floor until he stood directly behind Charlie in his chair, facing the two women.
"No," said Mikhail. "I am sorry, but you are not."
Mikhail's arm came up as though it were spring-loaded. He shot the dark haired woman point blank. Desmond flinched. The blonde woman named Bonnie started to run in Desmond's direction. Once he gets her, Charlie will be next. With one more shot the woman hit the floor. Desmond stepped out of the cabinet, harpoon raised.
"Drop it!" he ordered.
Mikhail grinned, though his face bore no humour at all, and his eyes glinted like cold steel. "I would not do that if I were you," he said, as he cocked his gun and put the barrel right up against Charlie's head.
Desmond saw Charlie close his eyes and calmly mouth a silent prayer. The Russian kept his gun on Charlie and his sights on Desmond while with his other hand he took out a knife. Desmond stayed frozen still as Mikhail began cutting the ropes that held Charlie down. When he was free Mikhail ordered him to stand. Using Charlie's body as a shield, he sheathed his knife, holstered his gun and pulled his goggles in place.
"As it was the last time we met, you will now let me leave," said Mikhail. "If you follow, I will kill him."
He inserted the mouthpiece between his own lips, grabbed Charlie around the waist and dove into the moon pool. Desmond watched, horrified and helpless, as the ripples dispersed and the water was calm once again. Then he turned to the woman who lay bleeding on the floor.
"The code, sister," he said. "Tell me the code to turn off the jammer."
Her eyes were glazed, unfocused. She was seconds from death. Without Charlie, it would be up to Desmond to complete the task. Desmond wondered at first if perhaps it was his destiny to die in Charlie's place after all, but when he heard the woman's words, his heart sank.
"A musician," she whispered. "It was programmed by a musician...Beach Boys…Good Vibrations…starting from five."
Desmond shook his head. He had no idea what the code might be. Only Charlie would know but he was gone.
"Can you tell me the numbers?" he tried, feeling foolish, but before finishing his sentence the woman was dead.
It was over. Their mission had failed. There was only one thing left to do and that was to try and rescue Charlie. If they were going to signal for rescue, he truly was their only hope. Dejected but determined, Desmond strapped on an oxygen tank and plunged into the pool.
As unpleasant as his first interrogation was, at least his torturer had hit like a girl. Mikhail did not. His fist met Charlie's face with all the brutality and cold precision of a Russian missile. For the first time since his captivity, Charlie could no longer feign bravado and cried out.
"Tell me about the woman who parachuted to the island," he was demanding with a thickly accented voice that sounded farther and farther away.
Charlie was tied to a chair once again, wet and shivering, this time with his back up against a tent pole. After being pulled from the water, he had been taken to some kind of campsite, but these were no cub scouts. His neck snapped and hit the pole as his tormentor punched him again. Blood flew in a spray from his mouth and nose.
"What do you want to know about her?" he mumbled.
"I want to know everything she told you," he said. "Why is she here?"
Charlie hung his head to catch his breath. At the same time he tried to decide just how much to tell them. Reveal too much and their chance at rescue could be ruined. In the end, Charlie concluded that the most dangerous bit of information to share would be about the freighter that waited off shore. He would offer up the rest and pretend that was all he knew.
"She bailed out of her helicopter," Charlie said. "It crashed in the ocean."
"What was her mission?" he asked.
Charlie paused. "I don't know," he tried.
It must have been the wrong answer because Mikhail hit him so hard black spots danced in his field of vision.
"She said she was looking for someone," Charlie offered. "But it wasn't us because she thought everyone on flight 815 was dead."
"Who was she looking for?" asked Mikhail, grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling back.
"Please," Charlie panted. "Please, stop. I don't know."
"You are lying," Mikhail observed.
Charlie closed his eyes tight and prepared himself for another blow. Instead he heard a voice say, "That's enough Mikhail."
Mikhail released his grip and the men began arguing. "He knows about the satellite phone, Richard. We need to know who has it."
"I understand," said Richard. "And he'll tell us. Give him time."
Charlie picked his head up to see this man whose voice was as smooth as velvet. He had short dark hair and long thick eyelashes. He seemed more suited for an executive boardroom than an untamed jungle. Despite his professional demeanour, the man named Richard seemed unfazed by Charlie's predicament.
"I don't think so mate," Charlie said. "First of all that assumes I know anything."
"I think you know more than you're telling us," Richard said, "and if you care about what happens to your girlfriend you'll talk."
Charlie tapped into a new source of strength as he met the man's gaze. "You're bluffing. No matter what you do to me I'm going to escape. And when I do, I'm going back to that station and flipping that sodding switch so my friends can be rescued."
The man smiled. "You really don't want to do that Charlie."
"And why not?" asked Charlie, but instead of responding, the men turned to leave.
Charlie yelled after them, ignoring the pain in his jaw. "What are you so afraid of? Why can't anyone leave this island?"
Desmond didn't think he knew a deeper anguish than the moment that Mikhail disappeared into the sea with Charlie, but he was wrong. That was nothing compared to the look in Claire's eyes. She had been waiting on the beach along with the rest of the camp for Charlie's return. Desmond presumed that when the signal remained jammed they had prepared themselves for the worst possible news. He saw relieved faces as he approached that soon faded with the realization that he was alone.
Hurley was the first to ask the question that hung in the air like an offensive stench. "Dude, where's Charlie?"
He waited until most of the camp was assembled around the kitchen table to tell them what had happened in the Looking Glass. When he finished with Charlie's capture and the musical code that blocked communications, it was Claire who spoke.
"Who's going to go and rescue him?" she asked as if it were a forgone conclusion.
To Desmond, it was. "I'll go," he said.
"You don't know where to look," noted Jack.
"They've probably taken him back to our campsite," said Alex, the girl who until recently was believed to be Ben's daughter, but no one was more relieved than she was to learn this was not the truth. "I can take you there, but you'll need weapons and a plan. They're not going to just hand him over. If they took him, they want him for something. Otherwise Mikhail would have just killed him in the station."
"I'll go with you," said Sayid to Desmond. "I owe it to Charlie for his sacrifice and without him there can be no rescue. We will still need him to enter the code," Sayid looked over to a worried Claire before adding with acute sensitivity, "and he has a family that needs him too."
It was settled, but not entirely. Before the group dispersed another voice was raised.
"I'm going too," said Hurley.
Nearly everyone turned to look at Hurley with varying degrees of uncertainty.
"And before you say I'm too fat, or too slow, or that I'll just end up getting everyone killed, don't bother," he argued. "I saved half the people on this beach tonight. Charlie's my best friend. I'm saving him too."
Sayid patted Hurley on the shoulder. "Of course you're coming," he said. "Pack a bag. We'll leave in thirty minutes."
After several hours, Charlie had fallen asleep in his chair but was awoken by the feel of his hands being unbound. He opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder to find Richard crouched behind him loosening the ropes.
"I'm untying you Charlie but just so you know there are armed guards right outside the tent," he said to him. "So don't try anything, okay?"
Charlie didn't respond, he was too worn out to say anything, but merely worked at his stiffened jaw and rubbed his wrists the moment his hands were free. The next thing he knew he was being handed a bottle of water. Charlie took the bottle and with the first swig washed the blood from his mouth and spit it out on the ground, inches from Richard's feet. Then he drank greedily while Richard waited.
"So," said Charlie, "are you the good cop?"
Richard pulled up another chair and sat down opposite him, ignoring the question. "Charlie, if you would have opened up radio communications to the island it would have been a terrible mistake."
"Yeah, that sounds like something you'd say," he replied, thinking of Desmond's vision of rescue for Claire. "You won't take it personally if I say I don't believe you."
"We know more about this island than you think," Richard continued, "including what lies beyond it."
He reached into his bag and removed two thick file folders.
"Jack told us you had files on every one of us," said Charlie. "That doesn't impress me, mate."
Richard kept the files closed on his lap and began. "Charlie, there's something you need to know. It's sort of a secret about this place that we normally keep highly guarded, but the arrival of you and your fellow passengers has changed all that. Understandably, you want to be rescued, but we've learned from experience that leaving this island is never a good thing."
"It isn't?" Charlie asked with a smirk, "And how's that?"
"Because for anyone who leaves here, their lives will end in tragedy," he responded.
Charlie paused and then gave a small chuckle. "No offense, but I think that's a file folder in your lap not a bloody crystal ball."
Richard's hands gripped the folder. "You're wrong. That's exactly what it is."
Charlie's smile faded and confusion clouded his eyes. He waited while Richard explained.
"We told Jack that we have files detailing the pasts of every passenger on your flight, but in truth we have much more than that. We also have their futures." Richard opened the first file and began to read, "Charlie Hieronymous Pace, 25, born in Manchester, England, parents Meghan and Simon, both deceased and brother Liam…"
Charlie's heart skipped a beat at the sound of his brother's name. Although he was far from ready to believe Richard's smoke and mirrors, a part of him dreaded the rest of the sentence, as if he would learn that his brother was also dead. He must have made a small sound as well because Richard paused and looked at him.
"Go on," Charlie said.
Richard looked back at the file documents. "…brother Liam lives in Sydney with wife Karen and daughter Meghan. Liam completed a Sydney drug rehabilitation program in May of 2003. You never attended one, but remained a heroin addict for three years until you boarded flight 815 to Los Angeles with hopes of restarting your music career. In February 2002, you had one near fatal overdose and hospitalization…"
"All right shut it," said Charlie. "You made your sodding point."
"I don't think I have," said Richard, "because you know all that. What you don't know is what happened two years later."
At this Richard closed Charlie's file and opened the second one. "Claire Littleton," he began, "survived plane crash in September 2004 and rescued in December of the same year. I have in my hand records from Sydney Medical Centre dated January 2006. They reveal that by that time Claire will be entering the final stages of advanced ovarian cancer."
Charlie's eyes widened but Richard continued to read as calmly as if he were consulting a cook book. "By the time it is discovered, it will be too late to treat. She will die in April, leaving behind an eighteen month old son, Aaron." Here Richard stopped and turned to the other side of the file before continuing, "Aaron will be placed in foster homes for the next fifteen years where he will be largely neglected and mistreated. By the time he is sixteen he will have been in and out of juvenile detention centers and court ordered drug rehabilitation programs…"
Charlie was horrified. "Wait, stop!" he cried. "There's no way you could know that! You're making all this up, you git!"
Richard looked truly apologetic as he turned the file around and placed it in Charlie's hands. "I wish I was, Charlie. I really do. We think Aaron's a very special child, and it saddens me to see what will become of him."
Charlie scoured the documents. They looked official enough -- hospital records, certified court documents, child services reports -- but the dates they bore were so jarring that his mind just couldn't accept it. Richard waited while Charlie examined each page.
"What about the others," asked Charlie, voice choking. "What happens to Jack, Desmond, Hurley…"
"They all meet unhappy ends," says Richard. "illness, addiction, depression, suicide. Some are simply unable to readjust to life in civilization. Others go mad when they are unable to reconcile the things they have experienced here with the outside world. Then there are others that seem to be able to cope at first, but their lives nevertheless spiral in a series of endless tragedies. We can't explain it, we don't know why it happens, but it affects all of us. That's why we are unable to leave this island."
"You must leave sometime," said Charlie. "What about your submarine? Juliet said you recruited her in Miami."
"We can leave for brief periods but not for long," Richard explained easily, as if he were expecting the question to come up. "I've made a few short trips for recruitment over the years, but I always know when I need to go back. If I had stayed in Miami with Juliet for one more week I likely would have been hit by a bus."
Richard smiled at this like a man who had accepted his fate. Charlie was still uncertain.
"How do I know you're not just trying to keep us here for your tests or whatever it is you're doing?" he accused. "How do I know you're telling me the truth?"
Richard took the files back, put his hands out and shrugged. "This is all the proof I have Charlie. I know you have no reason to trust me after what my people did to yours, but this is not some selfless act. Bringing rescue to this island would destroy all of us; we would go right down with you. It may be time that we started working together for the good of us all."
Charlie thought for a moment. He pictured Claire wasting away and dying alone in a hospital bed. He thought of Aaron, orphaned and using heroin. He thought of what he had almost done in his zeal to get them off of this island.
Then he looked up at Richard and said, "What do you need me to do?"
Jack walked past Ben where he sat tied to a tree. Once again the tables were turned and Ben was back to being their prisoner. Only this time there was no hatch to keep him in. Eventually they would have to decide what to do with this strange man who seemed to control the forces of the island.
He continued on towards Claire's tent. Since Charlie's disappearance, half the camp had taken to spending more time with her, offering whatever comfort and reassurance they could. She was much stronger than she appeared, though it was obvious by her inability to sit still that the wait combined with the fear of the unknown was beginning to wear at her.
A short distance from his destination and the walkie in his pocket started sending out static. He picked it up to hear a familiar voice.
"Hello?" it said. "Jack, is that you? It's Charlie, pick up."
Jack was so shocked he nearly dropped the handset. "Charlie! Are you all right?" he yelled as he ran the rest of the way to meet Claire. Claire spotted him and met him halfway.
"What is it? Is it Charlie?" she asked.
"Yeah, I'm okay," came his response. "Jack, you need to listen to me. You need to destroy the satellite phone."
This was not what Jack had been expecting to hear. "What?" he asked in disbelief. "Charlie what are they doing to you?"
"Nothing, I told you," he said, "but we can't be rescued. We can't leave the island."
By this point a crowd had gathered around Jack and people were gasping and muttering at Charlie's words.
"What does he mean we can't be rescued?"
"Jack, where is he?" asked Claire.
"Not leaving? But I thought…"
"We can't trust him. He's working with them…"
"Everyone, just be quiet!" thundered Jack, before turning back to the walkie. "You're starting to sound like Ben, Charlie. He told us the same thing."
"You know what it does to me to admit this Jack, but he's right," said Charlie. "I can't explain right now, but you have to trust me, like you once asked me to trust you."
His words came back at him with the force of a boomerang. It was not long ago when the entire camp believed that Jack was in league with the Others, and that he was no longer looking out for their best interests. Jack knew what it felt like to be mistrusted. He also knew that Charlie would never do anything to harm Claire or Aaron.
"Jack, are you still there?" asked Charlie.
"Yeah, Charlie I'm here," he said finally. "We need you to unjam that signal in the station. It's a musical code. You're the only one who can do it."
"I'm sorry Jack, but I won't," he replied, much to the disappointment of the listening camp.
Suddenly Claire reached out and took the walkie from Jack's hand.
"Charlie, it's Claire," she said. "Are you sure you're all right?"
"I'm fine Claire," he assured her. "You trust me don't you? You have to convince Jack."
"But I don't understand," she said, on the verge of tears.
"I know it's hard," said Charlie, "but I promised you I'd protect you and Aaron, and that's what I'm doing. I'm looking out for all of you. I have to go, but I'll see you soon."
"Charlie!" she yelled, but he was already gone.
Jack gently took the walkie back from her.
"Doc," said Sawyer, "what was the half-pint talking about?"
Jack looked over at Juliet who had been listening with the rest. "Do you know what this is about?"
"No," said Juliet. "I know that for three years I was prevented from leaving the island, but I don't know why."
Jack took her at her word. She had done enough to prove herself trustworthy.
"Well, for now I'm not destroying this phone, not while Sayid's team is still heading over there," said Jack. He looked over at a bewildered Ben who was watching the commotion but was too far away to hear. "Maybe Ben can be persuaded to give us some answers."
He was dragging himself along, feet and back aching, but Hurley swore to himself he wouldn't complain. It was a fight to get the others to include him, and he didn't want anyone regretting the decision. Hurley was determined to contribute; after all, he was the one who had told Charlie he had to have hope.
Alex announced that they were nearing the edge of the camp and Sayid gave the signal to get down low. Through the bushes, Hurley could see an open field full of canvas tents and camping equipment. People were milling around, engaged in ordinary tasks as if they weren't keeping a prisoner in their midst. They waited some more until a man came out of one of the tents followed closely behind by Charlie.
"Whoa dudes, over there," Hurley indicated. He got a closer look at Charlie's bruised face as his friend turned in their direction to address the man he was with. "Man, he looks messed up," he said.
They watched for another five minutes until the men parted and Charlie returned to the tent.
"I'll go get him," said Alex. "If I'm caught I'll just say I got away but your people are still holding Ben."
Sayid agreed. "If there's trouble, we'll cover you from here."
Alex crept out while Hurley watched her. After she disappeared into Charlie's tent Desmond called to them in a raised whisper. "Over here, I found something."
Sayid and Hurley went to where he sat crouched in the foliage and pointing to a crate marked Warning: Explosives that sat on the edge of the tree line guarded by a single man with a rifle.
Desmond turned to Sayid. "I reckon that's their ammo, yeah?"
Without responding, Sayid crept up in back of the guard and dealt one sharp blow to the back of his head. The man crumpled silently. Desmond tied the man's hands, gagged his mouth and dragged him deeper into the jungle so he wouldn't wake and alert his people. When he was finished he retuned and picked up the man's rifle as Sayid was prying off the lid of the crate – it was full of grenades. Using great care, Sayid and Hurley lifted the crate and took it back to their original scouting location.
"What are these for?" asked Hurley, eying the grenades nervously.
"In case Alex's plan fails," said Sayid.
He was lying on the cot when Alex entered, one arm over his eyes, empty tin plate of crumbs on the floor beside him. His chest slowly rising and falling, she wasn't sure if he was awake or asleep.
"Charlie," she whispered.
He lowered his arm and looked at her. "Who are you?"
"Alex," she said. "I'm with your friends. We're here to rescue you, come on."
Instead of jumping up like she had expected him too, he just stared at her from the bed. Alex was confused. He looked like he had been beaten badly. Why wouldn't he be in a hurry to escape? Was he too injured to move?
"No," he said to her horror. "I can't leave."
"Why not?" she asked.
"I can't go back," he said. "They'll want me to unblock the signal, but I won't. We can't ever leave the island or awful things will happen."
"Charlie," said Alex, coming closer. "I don't know what they told you but my people are all liars."
"How do you know?" he asked her.
Alex wasn't sure she heard correctly. "How do I know what?" she asked.
"How do you know they're lying about this?" he said, sitting up on the bed. "You're Alex, Rousseau's daughter. You've never been off the island."
While Alex attempted to formulate a response, she was interrupted by Aldo, who had entered the tent behind her with his rifle raised.
"Welcome home, Alex," said Aldo.
She turned to face him, unimpressed. "Hey, Aldo," she said with little enthusiasm.
"What are you doing here with the prisoner?" he asked her, eyeing Charlie who was watching them both.
"She was trying to rescue me," said Charlie. "I told her I didn't want to go."
"Is that right?" asked Aldo, before turning back to Alex. "I remember the last time you tried to fool me with escaped prisoners, Alex. I think you both better come with me. We'll see what Richard has to say."
Waving his rifle, he directed Alex and Charlie out of the tent. Alex was certain she could talk her way out of trouble for herself, but she hoped Charlie's friends had another plan to save him.
Sayid was watching when Alex emerged from the tent with Charlie. Then his heart sank when he saw the armed guard behind them. She had failed. If they were going to get away, they would need a diversion.
"Hurley," said Sayid, handing him a pistol, "keep an eye on Alex and Charlie and tell us if they appear to be in any immediate danger."
"What are you going to do?" Hurley asked him, taking the gun like it might explode in his hand.
Sayid glanced at Desmond, who by the look in his eyes was thinking the same thing that he was. "Desmond and I are going to give them an opportunity to escape."
The two men left Hurley and crossed to the opposite end of the camp, carrying the crate of grenades between them. Sayid looked back one last time to make sure that Alex and Charlie were still at a safe distance, and then he lifted a grenade.
"Are you ready?" he asked Desmond, who nodded.
Sayid pulled the pin on the grenade and lobbed it towards a circle of tents. The fiery explosion was spectacular.
There was panic almost instantly but they were not finished yet. Desmond threw a grenade a few yards from the first and set several tents on fire. The men continued in turns, raining explosives down upon the camp like some judgmental god. Men and women screamed and ran in all directions. Then Sayid heard the first gunshots.
Armed men throughout the camp started shooting at the trees. When the shots were so close Sayid could hear the bullets whistle in the air, he grabbed Desmond by the collar and pulled him down to the ground. Sayid feared what would happen should a stray bullet hit the crate. From their positions, he and Desmond grabbed the last of the grenades. Then they shouldered their rifles and crawled off to find deeper cover in the trees.
They both fired back, aiming for the shooters. Sayid saw Desmond take one down. Behind their attackers, the camp burned. Sayid strained to catch any glimpse of Charlie or Alex, searching the anxious faces of those racing through the camp. At last, he returned his attention to his task and hoped that Hurley had managed to stay out of sight.
Jack thought they would look more threatening in threes. He, Juliet and Sawyer wandered up to Ben like a sheriff's posse, determined to discover the reason behind Charlie's bizarre change of heart.
"Hello, everyone," said Ben as they approached. "Are you ready to tell me what that was all about?"
Jack took mental note of the fact that Ben seemed to be attempting to take command of the situation by starting off the conversation on his own terms. He shook his head.
"You first," said Jack. "What are your people doing to Charlie?"
"Well, seeing as I'm a bit tied up at the moment I can only guess," he quipped.
"He said he wouldn't unjam the signal," said Juliet. "That we can't leave the island or call for rescue. Why would he think that, Ben?"
"Because he knows what will happen to each and every one of you should you leave," said Ben, "and it won't be pretty."
At that moment Sawyer lost control and grabbed Ben by his shirt. Before Jack could stop him, Sawyer had delivered one sound left hook to his face.
"If I have to spend the rest of my life on this island what I do to you won't be pretty," Sawyer growled into his face.
Ben was unfazed. "All my people did was tell Charlie the truth, and if you trust him like you say you do, you should listen to him."
Jack turned away, disgusted. He should have known that was all he was going to get.
Hurley had been watching Charlie like he was supposed to but at the sound of the first explosion he dropped to the ground and buried his head. He heard screaming and the crackle of fires out of control. Then his concern for his friend took over and he opened his eyes again and tried to regain his bearings.
People were running everywhere. For a moment Hurley was worried that he had screwed up and lost sight of Charlie. Then he found him again. The guard that had been holding him had run off and Charlie was busy darting in and out of tents.
He couldn't see Alex anywhere, but since she was with her own people he assumed she could take care of herself, so he focused his sights on Charlie. At first, Hurley thought his friend was trying to take cover from the gunshots and grenades but then Hurley became confused when he saw Charlie run into one of the tents that was clearly on fire.
"Charlie!" he called and ran out from his cover towards him.
Hurley met him just as he reemerged, hunched over and coughing from the black smoke that was now billowing out of the tent. He grabbed Charlie's arm and pulled.
"Dude, I've got you. Let's roll!"
But Charlie yanked his arm back. "Get out of here, Hurley! Don't worry about me!" he yelled as he ran off to dash into another blazing tent.
Hurley couldn't believe his eyes and ears. Why wouldn't Charlie save himself? And what the hell was he doing?
"Charlie, stop!" he screamed, but it was too late. He had disappeared into the largest of tents that was already half consumed by flames.
Hurley refused to accept what he was witnessing. He ran for the tent and dove in through the flaps after Charlie. When he crossed the threshold he saw his friend picking up a large file folder. Charlie turned around, surprised to see Hurley there and his eyes filled with panic.
"Hurley, this tent's full of ammo," said Charlie. "It's going to blow! GET OUT!"
A fraction's worth of hesitation on Hurley's part was all it took for Charlie to take a flying leap at him, pushing him several yards away from the tent and throwing him down onto the ground. Hurley was reminded of the day their plane crashed as he hit the dirt with a deafening roar and a wall of heat at his back. He felt the earth rumble beneath him.
When it was over, Hurley groaned and pushed himself up. Charlie lay facedown next to him, not moving. They were surrounded by bits of burning debris. Hurley reached for Charlie and turned him over.
His face was so battered Hurley was reluctant to slap him, so instead he picked him up by the shoulders to try dragging him to safety. As soon as he lifted him however, Charlie's eyes opened.
"The file, Hurley," he muttered. "Get the file."
Hurley looked around until he spotted the folder that Charlie had risked his life for. Then he gathered it up, helped Charlie to his feet, and walked him into the woods.
There was barely any time to catch their breath and it truly pained Hurley because he could see Charlie was exhausted.
"We have to get Sayid and Desmond," Hurley said like an apology. There would be time for rest when everyone was safe.
Charlie stood and Hurley led the way to where their friends were taking cover. They were a few yards away when Hurley spotted that Russian Other with the eye patch standing alone with a rifle, shooting into the trees where Sayid and Desmond hid.
Charlie handed the file back to Hurley. "Do you have a gun, Hurley?" he asked.
Hurley took the folder and handed Charlie the gun that Sayid had given him. "Be careful, dude."
"Don't worry," said Charlie. "He's got it coming to him."
Charlie strode over until he was within range and shouted, "Oi! Cyclops!"
Mikhail turned just a bit when Charlie fired two shots right into his chest. Desmond and Sayid sprang out from behind the trees just as Charlie was taking Mikhail's rifle from his dead body. Hurley ran over to meet them. It was Desmond who got to Charlie first. He grabbed the younger man and smiled.
"Don't do that to me again, brother," he said.
"I won't if you won't," said Charlie.
They weren't going to make it back without rest, so when nightfall settled in, they gratefully made camp. The others insisted that Charlie sit while they collected firewood. He felt a bit guilty but as tired as he was, he didn't protest too much.
Desmond got the fire started as Hurley passed around the food he had brought. When everyone was settled, they shared their stories.
"Charlie," Sayid began, "I want you to know that volunteering to swim down to that station was the single greatest act of bravery I have ever witnessed. No matter what happens from here, you are a hero."
Charlie smiled as Sayid's words conjured a memory. "A woman called me that once when I saved her from a mugger in a London alley. It's funny. I never forgot it but I never even knew her name."
"Well, whoever she was, she was right," said Sayid.
Later that night, after the others had gone to sleep, Charlie showed Desmond Claire's file and told him everything that Richard had said. It was the only file that he had been able to recover, his own having been lost to the flames.
"I don't know what future to believe, Des," he said. "Maybe none of this would be happening if I had died down there like I was supposed to."
Desmond shook his head, trying to make sense of it. "I don't know what you're supposed to do anymore, pal. All I know is that with every choice we make, the future changes. That must mean that we're not bound by our fates or any one future."
"In that case," said Charlie, stashing the file away in Desmond's bag, "Claire and Aaron needn't be bound by theirs."
By the time they returned to the beach, Charlie had decided he would do it after all. Come what may, he was prepared to dive down to the station and enter the code as Desmond instructed. There was just one person he needed to clear it with.
When it was time, he stepped into Claire's tent with the folder in his hands. She sat expectantly, but her eyes were filled with sadness again.
"This is the second time you're saying goodbye," she said.
"This time, I'll be back," he said. "I promise. The bad guys are gone. I have diving equipment and everything. There's just one thing."
Charlie handed her the file, sat down next to her and told her everything he had learned about her and Aaron's futures. At first, he had debated telling her to spare her the worry, but in the end he decided that she had a right to know. Besides, if he kept it from her it would be like acknowledging fate, and Charlie no longer believed that. Armed with knowledge, they can be prepared, and make the proper choices if necessary so that this unpleasant future can be avoided. Nothing was set in stone.
When he finished he took her hands in his and said, "I thought you should know this before I went. Are you sure you still want to be rescued?"
"Charlie, this doesn't have to happen," she said, "and even if it did I would risk it for Aaron to live a normal life away from here, to go to school and have friends. Besides, if we're rescued together, then the future will have changed already and Aaron would have you if anything were to happen to me. That thought alone makes me certain this is the right thing to do."
Charlie smiled and kissed her as he did the last time, only this time he didn't do so for the purpose of memorizing her features. It was the start of things to come.
"I'll be waiting for you," said Claire.
They all stood on the shore where they had seen Charlie and Desmond off with their well wishes and prayers. An hour later, the green light flashed on the phone in Jack's hand and everyone cheered. Jack called for rescue. Thirty minutes later, Desmond and Charlie were rowing back.
Charlie stepped from the boat and made a line straight to Claire, taking her in his arms. Claire was so relieved to see him safe she burst into tears.
Charlie wiped them away with his thumbs as they trailed down her cheeks and said, "We'll get through this together, Claire."