Charlie smiled at Claire before pushing himself up off her bed. His smile faded when he approached Desmond. The Scot clapped a hand on Charlie's shoulder, but it didn't comfort Charlie at all. All Charlie wanted to do was turn away and run back to Claire. He wanted to tell her he loved her. He wished he had the courage to tell those three words to her. He sighed, swallowing a lump in his throat as he marched towards the small, wooden boat. He sat in the sand with Desmond, leaning against the boat as the Scot murmured a silent prayer. Charlie chewed on the Sharpie's cap as he wrote down a fourth memory of his. He smiled as he thought back to the woman who had called him a hero. She had a strange accent, thick and rich. Charlie was reminded of Sayid's accent by it. He capped the marker when Desmond asked, "Ready?" He stood and, without replying, gripped the boat. He helped Desmond shove it out into the ocean. They jumped into the boat's wooden hull, Desmond in the front and Charlie in the back. Desmond gripped the thick, black wire and looked back at Charlie. Charlie took the rope into his hands and silently began pulling it with the Scot.
Desmond turned to face Charlie when they reached their destination above the underwater station. Charlie immediately cracked a joke. He and Desmond smiled dispite the situation they were in. Desmond sighed, obviously feeling guilty. Charlie didn't say anything. He had just finished his list. His number-one memory had been written and he had the great feeling of completion. He pulled out the folded piece of paper and held it out for Desmond. The Scot looked at it, his face masked with confusion.
"I want you to give this to Claire." Charlie told Desmond. Charlie waved the paper at his friend.
"What is it?" Desmond asked, taking it.
Charlie let out a breath; how was he going to explain it? "Those are the five best memories...of my sorry excuse of a life." he faltered, a lump building in his throat.
Desmond looked up from the paper in his hand to Charlie. He'd never seen the young man cry. Not when he had told him he was going to die. Not when he'd betrayed the musician. Not ever...until now.
Charlie felt the tears sting in his eyes as he stated, "Memories...they're all I have."
Desmond sighed. He couldn't do this. Not to this great man. Desmond looked at Charlie, saying, "I'll do it."
"What?" Charlie asked, looking up.
"I'll go flip the switch." Desmond repeated.
"What about Penny? What about your girl?" Charlie quizzed. How could Desmond offer to die for him?
"What about your girl?" Desmond threw back.
Charlie paused; he couldn't answer that one.
"Keep your memories, mate," Desmond smiled, handing Charlie his paper back. "Where's the weight belt?" he asked.
Charlie pointed and lied, "Behind you."
Desmond turned, but the belt wasn't there. He searched when he felt something smash against his head. He blacked out.
Charlie hit Desmond upside the head with an oar. He watched the man crumple over the side of the boat. Charlie set aside the paddle before pulling Desmond up onto the boat. He laid the Scot on his back with a shaky sigh. Charlie took his list and carefully inserted it into Desmond's shirt pocket. The boat rocked lightly from the ruckus as Charlie towered over Desmond. "Sorry, mate," he muttered, reaching for the weight belt. "But you and I both know you weren't meant to take my place." Charlie turned away from Desmond to face the water. He shakily sighed. His bottom lip quivered as he began to silently cry. Charlie cried for all the mistakes he'd made, all the people he'd hurt, all the hearts he'd broke, all the lies he'd told. Charlie cried for Claire and baby Aaron. He cried for Hurley. He cried for his brother; what would Liam say when they were all rescued except his "baby brother"? Charlie cried for having to die like this. He prayed quietly before wrapping the belt around his wrist and diving into the blue ocean. He kicked and paddled towards the bottom; his checkered shoes slipped off his feet and floated to the surface.
Charlie paddled downwards and, as he reached the hatch, closed his eyes. These were his last thoughts. He thought back to saying good-bye to Claire. Last memory. He wished he had told her what was going on and that he loved her. Last regrets. He wanted to marry her and raise Aaron with her. Last dreams. Charlie opened his eyes and swam underneath the hatch. But there was no light. He panicked; where was it? He felt around the metal bottom of the hatch to try and find a door or an opening. Suddenly, a light caught his eye. He swam towards it, not knowing what to think. He swam upwards and suddenly...His head rose above the water. And he could breathe. Air!
He sputtered miraculously. He swam up to the edge of the moon pool. He pulled himself up onto the side, whispering, "Im alive!" Then, he yelled it. "I'm ALIVE!"
Suddenly, his happiness ceased. His cheers of joy stopped. His ears pricked at the faint sound of footsteps. Along with a door jerking open loudly. Charlie lay still for a split second. He snapped his head off of the metal floor. His hair clung limply to his forehead and neck. His eyes widened as he stared up the barrel of a rifle. He looked up at the woman holding it. She scowled as another woman raced towards them--also with a gun. Charlie raised his hands up, level with his head, in defeat. His mouth twitched at an attampt at a smile. He was so screwed.