Title: Laid to Rest

Rating: K+

Summary: Claire seeks out Charlie after a death in the camp. Slightly AU.

Characters: Charlie, Claire

Warning: character death. Spoiler for 3x05

Disclaimer: It's just fanfic. Lost is not mine.

He hadn't said a word since they returned with the body. It was late so they left it at the intended gravesite wrapped in a spare blue tarp, the island death shroud, for burial in the morning. By dawn, Claire realized that Charlie had somehow moved it to the church building, and had begun preparing a final resting place all on his own. He must have decided that Eko would prefer to be buried near his church.

She had tried talking to him. When Desmond and Locke emerged from the jungle supporting the lifeless form between them, Charlie just stood and stared in morbid fascination. He couldn't stop staring, but he wouldn't speak. When Claire tried coaxing him, he turned away from her. She didn't like how it made her feel but she understood. He needed time. Charlie and Eko had been building the church together. He was proud of that achievement. He boasted of it so often that Claire was convinced that Charlie thought of the crude structure as salvation itself. Of course Eko's death would come as a tremendous blow. Claire hoped Charlie no longer had access to drugs in his despair, but she could never be sure.

Although he had tried to protect her from it before, Claire knew this was not the first time that Charlie had dug a grave. The first time was when he buried the man he had killed-- Ethan, the one who had abducted them both and left Charlie to die. That was enough reason to want to kill anyone but for good measure Charlie also did it to protect Claire. As deeply as it had affected him, still he had allowed Hurley to help with the burial. Later, Charlie spoke to her about it, telling her he didn't regret what he had done, although it still haunted him like a recurring nightmare.

This was different. A death of a friend always is. He hadn't been close to any of the other castaways they had lost. He had only brief exchanges with Ana-Lucia and Libby, who no one knew well, and he once told Claire that he didn't much care for Shannon, although Claire didn't know why. Boone's death was horrible but overshadowed by Aaron's birth, a happy accident of timing that comforted the mourners like a new life can.

This death affected Charlie more than the others had. It was like a piece of him had died. Charlie and Eko had a connection that ran deeper than the church. Judging by Eko's violent reaction when she first showed him the Virgin Mary statue, Claire suspected it had something to do with the drugs. In truth, Claire didn't want to know, but she suspected it accounted for at least part of the attachment Charlie had to the Nigerian priest.

By the time Claire, frantic with worry, found Charlie when the sun came up, he had moved the body and dug a plot that gaped like an open wound. He had done it all by himself. Claire suspected it was why he worked through the night, so he could be alone. He wasn't accepting Hurley's assistance this time.

She approached him cautiously. Despite the morning's seaside chill, Charlie was damp with perspiration, panting from the exertion as he dug without acknowledging her presence. He looked as though he hadn't stopped to take a break since he had begun; there was a smear of blood on the handle of his homemade shovel. Charlie was working his hands raw, but even that didn't stop him. The body lay off to the side like a good soldier.

"Charlie" she began, "Are you alright?"

He nodded but did not break his stride.

Claire pressed on. "Do you want to stop for a minute and talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" he muttered as he worked, eyes fixed on his task.

"Eko died" she said.

"Really? I hadn't noticed." Charlie deadpanned.

Claire was stunned. It would have been funny if not for the fact that Charlie still hadn't stopped digging. He looked to Claire as if he were digging his own grave rather than one for the priest. When he was done she fully expected to see him fall right in from either exhaustion or the weight of the world. She wasn't sure which.

She had enough of the macabre scene. She reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him round towards her. "Charlie, look at me! I know how this has affected you. You have to talk about it."

She had gotten through, but only for an instant. As Claire took in Charlie's gaze, she glimpsed a lifetime of pain. It was like a revelation, a flash and then it was gone. He freed himself from her grasp and turned back, his voice softened by her concern and laced with apology.

"I have to finish this" he said.

At least he wasn't telling her to leave so she took that as an invitation to stay. She watched him work for several more minutes through a thick fog of silence.

"Please don't shut me out" she pleaded to his back, her voice choking. Claire lifted her eyes to take in the wooden frame of the church building a few feet away, scrambling for something to say to break the insufferable silence. "I know you and Eko spent quite a bit of time together with the…"

"He had a brother, you know" he said to her surprise. He hadn't turned around but his words came out like they were conversing over tea.

"No, I didn't know that" said Claire, hoping to God he'd keep talking.

"He was a priest too," he continued to her relief. The pit was now several feet deep and Charlie had to jump down into it to finish the rest. He spoke as he did. "He was on the plane. Not our plane, the one with the heroin."

He paused after the word heroin and snuck a glance over his shoulder, gauging her reaction. Claire didn't respond. Her mind was working to fit the puzzle pieces together. What was a priest doing on a plane full of drugs, and what was Eko's involvement? Whatever it all meant, it had touched Charlie in some way.

Tossing shovels full of earth high out of the trench, Charlie continued speaking between breaths. "I have a brother too. He was a heroin addict, but he finally straightened himself out. He has a wife and a daughter now."

Claire waited, wondering where this was going, when Charlie stopped digging and straightened up, stretching his back. He wiped the sweat from his face and Claire was certain she saw him steal a quick wipe at his eyes as well. He climbed out of the trench and stood on the brink looking back down into the chasm. He seemed shocked, like he had woken up from a dream and only just realized what he had done.

"He said we were going to be saved." He spit the last word out and broke down in tears, throwing the bloodied shovel down into the hole.

Claire pulled him into an embrace that he accepted, his sobs increasing, mourning the loss of a brother in arms and what he perceived to be his only hope of redemption.

She felt his hands brush at her back as they crept upwards and then clung, holding on to her for dear life.

"It's okay," she soothed, cradling him in her arms as he cried on her shoulder. "He's at peace, and you can still be saved. It's not too late."