Title: Hero (Charlie/Sayid)
Rating: K+
Summary: A character study challenge ficlet. Charlie tries to be a hero for Claire in Exodus II
Warnings: none
Status of Fic: Completed. One-off
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.
He thought he was a superhero, but he had been humbled by rocks. Ironic, when a rock was what he was trying to be for Claire--dependable, strong, supportive. Claire, I will get him back, he promised as he looked straight into her desperate eyes with the most intense look he could muster. He took her punches, absorbed her rage and offered his shoulder to cry on because that was what rocks and superheroes did. At that moment Charlie was her world. She hung her every hope on him and Charlie bore the weight of responsibility with ease, with a strength that belied his small unassuming frame. He felt ten feet tall, invincible.
Sayid and Sun were watching them, waiting, but Charlie had forgotten they were there. If he wasn't careful he could lose himself in her eyes. She needed him that badly, and he was her hero. Charlie saw himself that way, his image reflected back from two clear blue pools glazed over by tears. Charlie couldn't disappoint those eyes.
But he did lose himself. He was so focused on finding that baby that he made a stupid mistake. It wasn't a calculated risk, it was just plain reckless. He and Sayid had been running through the jungle, Charlie's endurance stretched to the limit, muscles protesting, heart pounding. Then he spotted the baby's blanket at the base of a tree. "There!" he shouted as he ran to investigate, full of optimism. He was so driven that he failed to hear Sayid's frantic warning, a plea for him to slow down and think. Bollocks. Superheroes didn't think--they acted.
He grabbed the bundle and immediately he knew he was in trouble. As soon as his fingers grazed the rough surface of the logs inside the blanket he knew, but by that time it was too late. The net full of volcanic rocks was released and rained down on the superhero's head. Charlie felt the sharp crack of the first rock that met his forehead then he raised his arms and fell to avoid the rest. Too little, too late. Charlie's body was brought down to rest right next to his pride, a broken bloody mess. He wondered whether superheroes bled. He couldn't remember having ever seen one bleed.
Sayid was handing him a clean towel just as the blood was pooling into his eye. Charlie felt it run warm and wet down his face and he cursed himself for having slowed them down. Sayid put pressure on the wound and Charlie cried out. He was telling him they had to turn back but superheroes didn't quit. Charlie's head pulsed and screamed but he knew pain and he wasn't afraid of it. The only thing he truly feared was letting her down. Charlie was willing to endure any physical pain if it meant he didn't have to return and face Claire as a failure. Rocks didn't feel pain and superheroes never failed.
"I'm not going back you have to fix it!" Charlie demanded.
Sayid protested that he wasn't a doctor but as a soldier, Charlie knew he had to have some familiarity with battlefield medicine. Unfortunately for Charlie, he did. As soon as he saw the bullet, Charlie's first instinct was self preservation. Fear coursed through his veins like ice water and he began having second thoughts.
"Remove the towel and tilt your head back" Sayid ordered in military mode. He was really acting the part now.
Charlie just stared in shock until Sayid had to command him a second time. What is he going to do with that sodding gunpowder? Who am I kidding, he thought. I'm no superhero, I'm just a frightened little kid who wants his mum. But Charlie knew he had passed the point of no return. He pulled the towel away, feeling the imprint of the terry cloth on his damaged skin, fibres clinging to the surface of the wound. He gritted his teeth, shut his eyes and for some strange reason, he felt compelled at that moment to make a joke.
"This is because I hit you isn't it?" Sayid had no sense of humour. So much for lightening the mood.
Charlie felt the raw burn of the gunpowder as it filled the gaping wound. He held his breath to keep in the scream, which released itself anyway in the form of a guttural moan. This was bad enough; he didn't want to contemplate what came next.
"This will not be pleasant" said Sayid. The king of the bloody understatement.
Sayid began to count and Charlie steeled himself, tensing every muscle, clenched his fists until his knuckles hurt. He tried to clear his mind of every thought but those eyes--Claire's crystal clear blue eyes begging him to be her hero. She would have to be his rock just this once.