The gun fits warm in her waiting fingers (I belong here, Claire-dear, belong forever) it seems right along with the strange little smile that overcomes the constant questions that float around and try and slip through the cracks, what am I doing? This isn't me, not this gun, not this smile, not any of it, where's my boy, where's Aaron?
His whispers his (Jacob, Jacob, the name that leaves no answers and always questions) fill her up as her feet go forward, toward them, those who are now just blurs.
His words are warm and welcoming; Claire, Claire, child, my little girl, come home.
The shock doesn't settle in their faces (Claire! Claire's back) until they see the smile warning them to run, run and the gun pointing at the chest of the old chosen one and the message that comes from the lips of a stranger, 'Jacob says goodbye, Ben. '
Conversations with father and father come to mind, 'why? Why him? Isn't he a good little boy all ears and obeying?' 'Claire, Claire, bring him here, dead and soon he'll be reborn just like us, do as your fathers say, little bad girl, do as we say.'
Before the body can be dragged, familiar hands tug on blond curls as he pulls her to the ground, big damn hero with tears furiously pouring down his cheeks.
Weak little man as Jacob would say, his words sting a place long ago removed by hand, Claire, Claire, what did you do? What did you DO?
The stranger smiling out pointing the gun pushing into his frowning mouth, frowning, crying for me, no her that died in the jungle, hands searching for her baby and screams crying for her father, dad?
Your not Claire, your not her, his lips tested hers, dead cold and not forever not hers, her who could have been mother of the year, her who had a heart of gold not the one she had now, a heart that was just dead.
It proved him right in every single way, she's dead, gone, so far gone it's no longer funny, as I pulled the little evil man along the flowers and mango trees I didn't rise my gun to fire, kill the big damn hero and his friends staring in horror.
No, no he just sat still, watched as she walked away for the very last time and then he knew 'she was never here, not the real her'
For a little moment, while looking at him the goddamn hero, (hero like the father Aaron could have had, that died in the sea) little itty-bitty Claire came rushing out of this dead shell, sparing her savior from her very own hands with a deficient smile.
Then she died away with the last of her body, our feet or mine now (daughter of the island and Jacob and dead soul) made it back to daddy hoping for a big hug and kiss, settling into a life without the passengers of 815, without a soul.