Title: Fallen Star
Spoilers: season two
Summary: a short trilogy from three different POV's, all linked by the song "Catch A Falling Star" by Perry Como. Two mothers and a father tell their stories.
Disclaimer: I'm playing in somebody else's sandbox here – please don't sue me for it.

I can't believe that I'm bawling over my steering wheel over some stupid song on the radio. It's not like I haven't been missing her but…well, it's hard to miss someone when you haven't had a proper conversation with them since they were twelve. And even then it was usually a reprimand from me that got the ball rolling. Have you done your homework, where are you going, who was that on the phone? And usually she wouldn't even answer, just stare back at me with those eyes of hers. Sometimes it was as though she could see right through me and into my very soul.

I still remember the day her father left. She was only six years old and she'd been at school that day. I'd come home early – I still wasn't back at work full time yet – and he was busily packing up, slamming around with bags half empty and swearing as he glanced at his watch. My intrusion certainly wasn't welcome and we both spent a good time yelling at each other before he finally stormed out, slamming the door so hard that I thought the doorknob might come off.

I was shattered. I don't remember most of the afternoon, it all passed in a dull haze of tears at the kitchen table and then, much later, when the shadows had lengthened into the corners, the sound of small feet on the veranda. She rang the bell several times and then gave up and tried the door. I'm sure she was surprised to find it open. I'd always been so careful about it being locked – you never know who could pop up on your front door step and just stroll right in…

'Mummy?'

I could barely even see her, my eyes were that bloody swollen – and itchy! My eyes felt as dry as the salt lakes I'd visited in Kalgoorlie as a little girl myself.

'Mummy?' she just kept saying it over and over, putting her backpack down and crawling onto my lap, her small arms around my neck and one pale hand on my cheek, brushing at my tears. 'Why are you crying? Are you sick? Is it daddy? Is he hurt?'

And, well, that just opened the floodgates. I cried like anything, my little girl clinging to me like a terrified monkey. I knew I had to stop, knew that I had to try and stay strong for her but it was just too much. Within moments she was crying too, her voice wobbling out a mantra.

'Mummy? Why are you crying? What's wrong mummy…?'

She sang herself to sleep that night – her lonely little voice carried out her open door, down the hall and to my ears. She sang the song that her daddy always sang to her to get her to sleep and with every word she broke my heart a little more.

'For when your troubles start multiplying – and they just might. It's easy to forget them without trying…'

'You'll have a pocket full of starlight!' Perry Como chimed out from the car radio. I'd pulled up at the side of the road, my head leaning on the steering wheel, tears dripping awkwardly onto my lap.

A sudden tapping on my window brings me back to life again. It's a young woman and she looks nothing like my Claire but I imagine that it's her anyway as I roll down the window.

'Excuse me,' the woman looks thoroughly nervous. 'Are you okay?'

'I'm fine,' I tell her as firmly as I can but she doesn't look convinced and suddenly I'm babbling, words tumbling out of my mouth unchecked and unrehearsed. 'I just…I lost my daughter recently in a terrible accident. I'm a bit of a wreck as you might have guessed.' I try for a sad laugh but the woman still looks awkward, sorry that she's come over to ask what the matter is. I feel foolish myself, for spilling out my sadness like that – and onto a complete stranger at that. But even as my cheeks burn, her face twists from awkwardness into sympathy and I almost hate her for the empty condolence that I know is coming.

'I'm very sorry for your loss.'

'Thank you,' I say with as much dignity as I can muster whilst sniffling.

'Are you okay to get to where you're trying to get?' the woman asks. 'Can I call anyone for you…?'

'That's very thoughtful of you,' I pat her fingers, manicured, which are resting on the edge of my window. 'But I'm all right really. Thank you for your concern – most people wouldn't have even stopped.'

The woman smiles then. 'You're welcome.' As she turns to go, I wipe the final tears off my face and she turns back, looking pensive. 'It'll get easier. It never really goes away but…'

And on that note she walks back to her car. It's far too big for her – a four-wheel drive or something – and I can see the silhouette of a small girl in the front seat. Her hair is long. I wonder where her father is, whether this is really his car, whether he's still singing his little girl to sleep at night or if he's off somewhere in the world doing something for himself instead.

I wonder if Claire has found somebody else to sing her to sleep tonight.

'What happened to Charlie?'

'Charlie? Oh, he's fine. When we got far enough away from camp, I let him go back.'

'Oh.'

The room is filled with vibrant colours and her head seems to dip and swirl with all the brightness around her. It's like she's been underground for months and had just come up into the sunlight again – she's feeling a little bit dizzy but not unsteady as she turns on the mobile over her baby's crib. Ethan smiles at her, pleased, but there's something sad, almost bittersweet about the tinkling tune that's being played and Claire can't really remember why she's feeling sad. Maybe it's because she's still the tiniest bit worried about Charlie. She knows that he'll be worried about her too but Ethan is taking such good care of her and her baby now…

Claire knows that he'd want her and the baby to be safe and healthy and happy and…

'Wait here, I'll be right back.'

What? Oh…that's right, Ethan. 'Okay.'

'What the hell happened? You were supposed to make the list and then bring her in. Was I unclear?'

The argument washes over her but she doesn't really hear it. It's not important – just white noise, background noise.

'It's not my fault! They knew I wasn't on the plane! They had a manifest!'

'What am I supposed to tell him? You know what he's going to do when he finds out. Damn it, Ethan!'

A suspicious glance is hidden behind a door as the man Claire doesn't know pulls it shut.

Click.

The mobile is still playing that same song, over and over again. Claire begins to hum, idly rubbing her belly. She knows that she knows the words but they're not coming into her mind – they're right on the tip of her tongue and she scrambles to catch them as several of them spill out all in a jumble.

'Fallen star…pocket…in case…fallen…catch it…'

She pauses and frowns. She knows this.

'Put in your pocket…the fallen star…and you have to catch it…' she gives a frustrated growl and pummels the buttons till the music stops. She's feeling decidedly grumpy now and she crosses her arms over her belly bump as she stomps across the room, coming to rest decidedly in the rocking chair. It swings backwards and forwards, making her feel dizzier than before and before she can quite comprehend the possibility of a mood swing, its upon her and she's bawling, a trembling hand pressed to her cheek.

She buries her face in the chair when Ethan comes back in.

'Hey, what's wrong?' he asks, kneeling down so that he can, take her hands in one of his – the other moving to brush her tears away. 'There's no need for you to be crying Claire. You're safe here. We'll take good care of you and your baby.'

'I don't remember the words to the song!' Claire manages to choke out. 'The lullaby!'

'Which lullaby?' Ethan asks, his voice gentle.

'The star lullaby,' Claire whispers. She's leaning a little too close to him, she can feel his breath against her face but she doesn't care – this is important. 'You catch the star and put it in your pocket.'

'That's right,' Ethan nods. 'And you save it for a rainy day. Isn't that how it goes?'

'I think the stars gone from my pocket,' her tears start to fall again. 'I think I've lost it. I won't have one for a rainy day.'

'Your star hasn't gone anywhere,' Ethan points to her swollen belly. 'He's in there. And just because you can't see him shining yet doesn't mean he's not going to be the brightest star in the sky.'

Claire continues to weep but it's a happier sort of crying now and she smiles and laughs a little, wrapping her arms around her belly. 'There's a fallen star growing inside me. He's going to be so beautiful and sparkly when he's born.'

'Mmmn hmmn,' Ethan agrees. 'Just like his mother.'

Claire settles back against the chair again and closes her eyes, sighing a little.

'Tired now.'

'Well then you sleep,' Ethan moves about for a moment or two and then he returns with a soft blanket that he drapes over her. 'I'll be here when you wake up.'

It's the first time that Claire's let him put Aaron down for the night since the two of them resolved their differences and Charlie is thrilled to pieces, his voice warbling out a collection of nonsense and nursery rhymes that he keeps remembering bits and pieces of but never the whole thing. Claire is too busy with folding and organising to really notice what he's doing although he can see that brief, half smile on her lips that means that she's pleased with him.

Charlie grins a little himself as he gets back into his former role – swaying and rocking the tiny form in his arms. Aaron doesn't seem quite ready for sleep yet though; his blue eyes are bright and alert in the fading sunlight.

'I don't think he's going down just yet,' Charlie observes, making his way over to Claire and sitting beside her. 'Maybe he needs to be fed one more time?'

Claire sighs, sets down her folding and takes her son into her arms. Charlie automatically turns his back to go, perhaps busy himself with some trivial matter so that she can breast feed in peace but her voice stills him and she gestures him over.

'You don't have to go,' she explains herself simply. 'I don't mind you being here when I'm nursing him.'

Charlie nods, surprised, his nerves beginning to eat away at his stomach as Claire adjusts her singlet top. There is a long moment of awkwardness in which Charlie stands beside her, trying not to stare or do anything equally as gawky but then he drops onto the cushion next to her and shuffles closer until his hands are touching either side of her waist and his chest is pressed up against her back. His cheek is resting against her temple and his eyes stare out of the tent – anywhere but down.

After Aaron has been nursed, Claire sets about fixing her singlet but she doesn't stand or make any motion to put him to bed. He's looking distinctly tired now and he opens his mouth wide in a huge yawn as he settles himself down a little more comfortably in her arms. Charlie finally dares to look down and he smiles against Claire's temple at the sight that greets him, one of his hands trailing from Claire's waist to tuck one of Aaron's feet back into his blanket.

He begins to hum a lullaby almost unconsciously, only becoming aware of himself when Claire turns to gaze at him, astonished.

'What?' he asks nervously. 'Am I out of tune or something?'

'You know "Catch a Falling Star"?' her voice is incredulous, almost awed.

'By Perry Como?' Charlie guesses, straining to remember the lyrics and surprising himself by discovering most of them are still intact. Claire nods fervently, keeping the motion small lest she disturb the sleeping bundle in her arms as Charlie begins to sing the words, barely above a whisper. 'Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, never let it fade away. Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, save it for a rainy day.'

'For when your troubles start a-multiplying,' Claire breaks in and Charlie falls silent immediately – he doesn't know these words. 'And they just might, its easy to forget them without trying…' and here she pauses and licks her lips and a small shudder runs through her body. If he wasn't sitting so close to her he would never have noticed it but as they are, it runs from Claire and through Charlie's body, a trembling shiver. Charlie tightens his hold on her and leans his face against hers, pressing his lips against her long hair. She barely breathes the final line, so quietly that Charlie hardly even hears the words. 'You'll have a pocket full of starlight.'

The night feels a little colder for some reason as he wraps his arms around her properly and Aaron's eyes flutter shut – oblivious to the tears on his mothers face and the small, suppressed sobs that are rippling through her body.

'Claire?' Charlie ventures after a while and is surprised when she turns her face to him and, despite the uncomfortable twist in her neck, kisses him long and hard. When she finally breaks away from him she lets out a soft gasp and one of her tears runs down her nose and drops against his shirt noiselessly.

Another long moment passes before Claire speaks, her voice rough with tears.

'I don't want Aaron to grow up without a father Charlie.'

Charlie is taken aback and he rocks back enough to catch Claire's eye. 'Where's all this come from?'

'Does it matter?' Claire asks fiercely, not answering his question and not meeting his eyes. There are still tears on her lashes as she stands abruptly and rushes her sleeping child into his cradle before turning to face Charlie, her hands unsure of what to do with themselves. She twists them together, wipes them on her jeans, fiddles with her singlet strap and finally she sits beside him and sighs. 'I'm sorry Charlie. I just…' and for a long moment it looks as though she might just fall apart right there and then and tell him about everyone from her father through to Thomas and how they had left her and here was Charlie, the first one who didn't leave her and she wanted so much to believe that he was going to stay there forever and sing her child to sleep but she couldn't.

She tried to smile, and found herself asking him if he could sing the chorus again. It had been her favourite lullaby and it always brought back memories and she liked to hear him sing it... Charlie obliged, although he still looked somewhat confused and she could tell that he knew she was changing the subject quite deliberately. He seemed content to let it rest for now however and as his voice carried out the melody Claire shut her eyes and leant her head against his shoulder.

Catch a falling star, a fallen star, and keep him by your side. He'll make you smile on rainy days.