Title: Charlie
Rating: PG for mentioning of suicidal tendencies
Spoilers: post exodus
Original Post Date: 20th June 2005
Summary: When she had been missing, the only thing he felt he could do which actually made any form of sense was to die. Staring at the ocean for hours on end, he had often wondered, if he just walked out into the ocean would anyone try to save him or would they just let him drown along with his grief?
Disclaimer: Lost, the characters within it and the situations they are in don't belong to me. Bad Robot, ABC, Disney, JJ Abrams and a bunch of other people own all the copyright to it. I promise I'm not writing this fanfiction to make any money and I don't mean to infringe on copyright – the plot bunnies simply attack and I relent. I also don't own the song Mad World by Gary Jules & Michael Andrews. I just stole some of the lyrics.

And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had…

Charlie Pace was by no means a large man but she felt small in his arms when he held her. He liked holding her, liked holding Aaron, liked the way they enjoyed his company, that they wanted him with them, the feeling that he was needed.

When she had been missing, the only thing he felt he could do which actually made any form of sense was to die. Staring at the ocean for hours on end, he had often wondered, if he just walked out into the ocean would anyone try to save him or would they just let him drown along with his grief?

Certainly Jack would heroically save him and this was enough to make Charlie realise the pointlessness of killing himself again when miraculous Jack would just resurrect him.

But what if he had tried?

Charlie imagined the scene in his head now, Jack ploughing into the water after him, pulling him to shore while everyone looked on, wondering if he was going to die…and then himself. Weakly spluttering for breath, coughing hoarsely, vomiting salt water before finally fixing his gaze on his supposed saviour, the tracks of salted water down his face not from the ocean.

'Why couldn't you just have let me die Jack?'

He saw himself quite clearly in his minds eye walking aimlessly up the beach with his meagre belongings, head bowed. He wouldn't meet Rose. Perhaps he drowned himself instead. Or beat himself physically until he bled as much on the outside as he was internally.

Either way, by the time she escaped, he would be dead. As dramatically as possible of course. And as ironically as possible. Of course. She would read her diary, reclaimed from her luggage and she would ask, 'Who is Charlie? Why did I write about him?'

Then they would all exchange dark looks of sorrow and tell her. Tell her that Charlie Pace had died. He had killed himself because he believed he had failed her. Because he loved her and he lost her.

And he couldn't cope with that.

He wouldn't kill Ethan. He wouldn't help her to remember. And she would be alone again. He wouldn't be there when Aaron was born. She would remember him slowly; even with him not there to jog her memory she would slowly, slowly begin to remember him although she wouldn't know who he was.

Where is the man with the smiling blue eyes? Where is the man with the tape on his fingers and that gentle smile he never gave to anyone else? Where is Charlie? Why did he leave? Why didn't he wait for me to come back?

'Hey,'

Her voice startled him from his thoughts.

'Hullo,'

'You look very serious.' She settled herself down comfortably next to him. 'What are you thinking about?' she waited patiently for him to answer.

I love you Claire and you make me feel like you might love me too I have and still would die for you every day you were gone I felt like I was falling apart and the feelings of self doubt and shame just wouldn't leave and the only rational thought that I could conjure was to end it all I was so ashamed because I promised I would protect you and I didn't so it became a lie I didn't keep my promise to you but you're back now and I love you all the more and I'm glad now that I didn't die because I've been able to see you smile again…

He glanced up at her face, creased with uncertainty, took her hand gently and smiled. The words tumbling about in his head like so many autumn leaves dissipated leaving just the two of them. Him, Charlie, with her. Claire.

'Nothing,' he murmured. 'Nothing at all love.'