Title: Metamorphosis (The Moth part two)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Story begins where the Moth ends-Charlie begins a difficult night of heroin withdrawal. (Charlie, Locke and Jack)
Warnings: Issues of drug addiction/withdrawal
Status of Fic: Completed
Author's Notes/Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story, nor do I own any rights to the television show "Lost". They were created by JJ Abrams and Damon Lindelof and they belong to them, Touchstone, and ABC.

I always wondered what became of Charlie after he tossed his drugs into the fire. I knew the worst of his withdrawal was still ahead of him, but that story failed to make it into the Moth. I searched for fanfic on the topic, and wasn't satisfied with what I found. I finally decided to take a stab at my own, my first fanfic. This is part two of the Moth as I would have liked to have seen it. Please be gentle but liberal with your comments. Thanks and enjoy.

Charlie stared at the flames as they consumed the last of his heroin stash. Immediately after tossing the small baggie into the fire, he wondered if he had done the right thing. He knew he was running out. Locke was right when he said that painful detox would be inevitable. And it had begun less than 24 hours after his last fix. Still, the thought of hours of fever, pain, chills and vomiting filled him with dread. Was he strong enough? Locke seemed to think so. But then Charlie always doubted himself, even when others seemed to have faith in him.

He wondered how different things would be right now if he had taken up his brother Liam's offer, stayed in Sydney and gotten himself into rehab. Succeed or fail, at least he would never have ended up on this bloody island. Charlie, along with the other surviving passengers of flight 815, have been here over a week, and rescue seemed no closer. He thought of Liam again and regretted their last parting. If Charlie had only known that would be the last time he would see his brother, he might have told Liam all the things he had always meant to say. But then Charlie always did have an easier time expressing himself with his music.

He was brought back to reality by the voice of Locke. He was speaking to him.

"I'm proud of you Charlie. Always knew you could do it."

As he said this Charlie looked up, his head feeling like lead, and he swore he could see a moth rising from the flames. Strange. Charlie couldn't be sure if it was real or a hallucination, so he chose not to mention it. All he knew for sure was that his headache was getting worse and he needed to find a place to lie down, away from prying eyes.

Without a word Charlie turned away and began to head back to where he had been sitting with Jack. After what happened in the caves that day, there seemed to be a bond between them, and Charlie now trusted Jack to keep his secret, although he initially tried to keep his addiction from Jack as well. Jack already told Hurley Charlie had the flu, and as bad as Charlie looked, Hurley bought it. Just as Charlie was trying to earn the respect of the group, he didn't need word getting around that he was a junkie. No one would ever trust him with anything, and Charlie needed to feel useful and important.

From a few feet away, Charlie saw Kate sitting with Jack, where he himself had sat moments before. He waited until he saw her leave and then started to go back over, but he turned too fast, and a wave of dizziness struck him…hard. Luckily, Locke had been watching him since he had walked away and was there in time to grab him before he hit the ground. Locke wordlessly caught Jack's attention and he rose and came over, helping to hold Charlie up.

"He needs a place to lie down" said Locke.

Jack replied, "Take him over to the infirmary."

To Charlie, the voices sounded distant, but by now paranoia had set in, and he felt that he was attracting too much attention from everyone around. He did his best to straighten up as he staggered towards the area Jack had set up for treating the sick. He never imagined one of those people would be him.

Charlie always considered himself a pretty high functioning addict. He knew the other kind. Liam for one. Excess seemed to be his brother's middle name. It didn't take long for Liam to become a full blown junkie once he discovered heroin. It was like a love affair with a dark seductress. Charlie watched Liam as he progressed from powder to needles, enduring near overdoses and short periods of painful withdrawal. Then he'd be right back on it again. With Charlie it was different. He would indulge, but he wouldn't overindulge. He convinced himself that as long as he stayed away from the needles he wasn't that bad. That he wasn't even a junkie. Which of course was a lie. Junkies were good at lying, and Charlie had become an expert over the past few years. Lying to yourself was all part of it.

Jack and Locke took Charlie and eased him down onto the airplane seat cushions that made up a cot in the infirmary. Charlie groaned as he hit the makeshift bed, curled up into a ball and began to rock back and forth.

Locke took Jack aside. "I can stay with him if you need me to."

Instead of responding, Jack asked, "How long have you known about this John?"

Locke replied, "I've had a suspicion for the past few days, so I've been keeping a close watch on his movements. After you and Kate left the caves to take the water back to the beach the other day, I convinced Charlie to give me the last of his supply. Just a few minutes ago he threw it into the campfire."

Jack nodded, "Well, that may have been the easy part. He's gonna have a hellish night. Are you sure you're up for this?"

"I told him I wanted to help. I can't leave him now" said Locke.

"Alright" Jack went over to where Charlie lay and propped him onto his side with a pillow. Turning back to Locke, Jack said, "Don't let him lie on his back in case he throws up. If he starts having convulsions or difficulty breathing I want you to come and get me." Jack looked Locke in the eye as he said this to make sure Locke understood. "I'll relieve you in two hours."

"Okay" said Locke.

Charlie was drifting in and out, but he was pretty sure he heard Jack leave, and that Locke was still there. As much as he didn't want anyone to find out, he also knew he was afraid to be alone. The pain was now getting worse, and he was overcome with fits and shakes that kept him from falling into a merciful sleep. If it were possible, he felt hot and cold at the same time.

As if sensing this, Locke came over with a blanket, laying it loosely over Charlie. "You're gonna be okay, Charlie. You did the right thing." Locke told him. Charlie tried to hang on to that thought.

In between moments of feeling violently ill, Charlie also found he had fleeting sensations of surprising clarity. It had been so many years since Charlie was drug free he had almost forgotten what it was like—what he was like. He was looking forward to discovering that person again once this was over, if it would ever be over. Right now a life without pain and addiction was as hard to imagine as the person he had been. But he thought he caught a glimpse of that person when he crawled into that collapsed cave to rescue Jack.

Suddenly Charlie was reminded of Claire. Although he had just met the pregnant girl a few days ago, he realized now that she was one of those who had chosen to remain on the beach, rather than move to the shelter and relative safety of the caves. Claire still had hope of rescue. Despite her obvious "unwed mother" status, Claire had a certain innocence about her that intrigued Charlie. He wondered if he himself would ever be innocent again after all he had seen and done in his young life. It was a life he was ready to leave behind him.

As he lay shaking in sweats and chills, Charlie decided that as soon as he could he would bring water down to Claire on the beach and check on her. Maybe he could even convince her to pack up and move to the caves with him. The thought helped him get through his pain, giving him a goal that seemed to strengthen him. Yes, he decided, even if he wasn't quite over this, he would find a way to somehow see Claire tomorrow--his first day on the island without drugs.