Hurley stood off to the side as Juliet argued with Sawyer and Sayid. It wasn't often that the redneck and the Iraqi agreed, but when they did, they were a force to be reckoned with. Hurley understood Juliet's reasoning – he was appalled that Sawyer had shot Tom pointblank – but he didn't have the energy to throw himself into the fight.

Pushing their words to the back of his mind, he turned to look out at the ocean. The movement of the waves was so peaceful and calming – the complete opposite of the Island and its inhabitants. Doing some math in his head, Hurley counted how many days they had actually been on the Island. The number was startlingly small, as it felt as though they'd been there for years, maybe even for their entire lives.

A movement out on the water caught his attention, and Hurley squinted, trying to get a better look. But the sun was in his eyes, and for a few minutes, all he could tell was that the speck was moving straight toward them.

As it finally neared the beach, Hurley could see that the speck was Desmond. He was in the small boat that he and Charlie had gone out on…but Charlie wasn't with him. A sliver of fear shot through Hurley, and he turned away from the others and moved down toward the water.

Desmond caught sight of his big friend, and fought down the lump in his throat. Focusing on the boat, he put all of his energy into pulling it up onto the beach, steadfastly avoiding the other man's eyes.

"Hey, man," Hurley greeted. "You're back."

"Aye."

"But…you're alone."

He still couldn't meet his gaze. "Aye."

There was a moment of silence, where all of Hurley's fears were confirmed. Fighting back tears, he forced the question out.

"He's not coming back, is he?"

There was no point in hesitating, so Desmond didn't even try. "No." He shut his eyes at his next words. "I have to go tell Claire."

"No!" The sudden outburst forced Desmond to look up, finally meeting Hurley's eyes. "No," he repeated. "This kinda stuff…it should come from a friend. And no offense, man, but…you're not really her friend. You're the weird guy that kept prophesying her boyfriend's inevitable death. So…I'll do it, okay?"

Desmond wanted to argue. He thought that telling Claire should be his responsibility and his burden. But the look on Hurley's face told him that the subject wasn't up for debate. Heart breaking for all the pain he had caused, or at least seemed to cause, he nodded. As Hurley turned to walk away, though, he remembered one thing that he had to say.

"He died a hero," he called. Hurley turned back to look at him. "Make sure she knows that. He died doing what he had to do to make sure that she and Aaron were safe. They were his only thought in the end."

His eyes burning with unshed tears, Hurley nodded before turning and making his way back up the beach.

88888888888888888888

Claire's eyes swept the beach as the survivors made their way back. It had been decided that they would wait for the helicopter there so that they could gather those left behind before leaving the Island.

As she searched the camp though, she found that Charlie was nowhere in sight. She tried to quell the fear rising in her chest, knowing that Aaron would sense her distress and get upset himself. But when her gaze rested on Desmond sitting by himself, and Hurley pacing some distance away, Claire couldn't help the waves of fear and pain that coursed through her.

With heavy legs and an even heavier heart, she forced herself to move forward, seeking out Hurley. When he saw her coming, he froze, seemingly bracing himself for what was to come.

"Hey," he said lamely as she stopped in front of him.

She gave him a sad smile. "Hey, Hurley."

He looked so uncomfortable that Claire pitied him. She wanted to get the words out first, to save him the pain of telling her, but she couldn't make herself say them – if she did, she knew that there was no turning back, that he would really be gone.

"I, uh…I have to tell you something."

She nodded. "I know."

"You know? Like…you know I need to tell you something, or you know what I need to tell you?"

Pulling Aaron closer, a tear slid down her cheek. "Both," she whispered.

They stood there for a long minute, the pain of loss filling the space between them. More tears escaped Claire's eyes as she tried to control herself, but it was a losing battle, and they both knew that. Stepping forward, Hurley wrapped his arms around her awkwardly, making sure not to crush Aaron. The contact was unexpected, and something inside Claire broke at the gesture. The floodgates opened, she laid her head on Hurley's chest and cried.

8888888888888888888888

They gathered in silence. There was no body to bury, so Hurley had made a marker out of sticks, carefully carving Charlie's name into one of them. When everyone was standing around it, he cleared his throat.

"Charlie…Charlie was my friend – probably my best friend on the island. We had a lot of fun together, and…" Hurley trailed off, looking over to where Claire stood, clutching Aaron to her chest. "You might not think it looking at him, but Charlie was a hero," he continued, his voice stronger. "He sacrificed himself so that we could be rescued. He didn't do it so that people would like him or…or for any selfish reasons. The one thing he wanted the most was for Claire and Aaron to get off the island. And because of what he did, they will." He shifted slightly so that he was completely facing the marker, and changed his tone so that he was talking to Charlie directly. "Claire asked me…she wants you to know that she'll make sure Aaron knows about you. That he'll know how much you loved him, and that you would do anything for him…that you did do everything for him. You were a hero to him, man…and you were one to me, too. I'm really gonna miss you, but…thanks – for saving us."

As Hurley's eulogy came to a close, a sound picked up in the distance. Everyone turned to look, gasps and shouts erupting as they realized that it was the helicopter. But as the rest of the survivors hurried down to the beach and toward rescue, Hurley stayed where he was. Claire moved until she was standing next to him, one hand reaching out so that she could take his hand in hers. Even as the whirring of the helicopter's blades came closer, they kept their eyes locked on the marker.