Charlie had a choice. Give up or fight fate. Claire and Aaron would be saved if he died, drowned, just like Desmond had predicted. However, he couldn't give up his life that easily. He had slipped by through his entire life and now was a chance he had to fight. In a split second, Charlie had to decide. He could see the man outside the window, holding the grenade. He turned and ran, almost in slow motion, towards the large iron door that could save him or doom him. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't feel his heartbeat. Was he already dead? No.
In a moment of pure instinct, Charlie jumped out the door and slammed it shut. He grabbed the knob that held the lock mechanism to the door and turned it, almost ripping the skin off of his hands. A second later, he heard the smashing of glass and felt the door move slightly as the water crashed against the hard door. He breathed in, feeling the fresh air fill his lungs. Desmond ran over to him and grabbed him by the shoulder. "Charlie, Charlie are you alright?" Charlie gasped, then fell on the floor. He breathed heavily. "It's… it's not Penny's boat."
It was a few weeks after Charlie's date with death. He looked up from his guitar, his fingers rubbed raw from playing it so much. He was anxious for the entire group to get back. Desmond was walking over to him, a happy look on his face. It was funny, because Desmond seldom had an intense emotion written plain across his face. He was smiling. "Beautiful day, isn't it?" He said, standing next to Charlie. "Yeah, I guess it is. Any news from the group?" Desmond looked out to sea. "Nope, none that we've heard. Charlie," He paused.
"I've stopped having the flashes. I haven't had one since the last time I saw you die, right before you drowned. I don't want to get your hopes up, but I don't think they're coming back." Charlie couldn't believe his ears. He wasn't going to die? "You're sure? You haven't been flashing or whatever, in your sleep or something? Any morbid dreams?" Desmond grinned. "None." A smile stretched it's way across Charlie's face. He jumped up and hugged Desmond. "Thanks brutha."
Suddenly, Hurley came running down the beach as fast as he could. He stopped and leaned down, hands on his knees, gasping for breath. "Hey, guys, come on, the groups back!" Charlie looked at Desmond, feeling as if his face was ripping in half from smiling. "Alright mate, let's go!" He slapped Desmond's back and ran off down the beach.