Author's Note:
Hello everyone! This is my first Lost fanfic, so there might be some bumps to work out along the way.
The story begins at the end of Season 3. Since I am too stubborn to accept the fact that Charlie is dead, I decided to create this story in his honor.
I hope you enjoy it! Reviews are most welcome.
Not Penny's boat.
Not Penny's boat.
Not Penny's… boat…
Please understand…
The water began to crush his lungs. The burning sensation of holding your breath too long began to take him, except he had never been in a situation with no way to get air once more. No way of hope. No way of rescue. No way of surviving. It is inevitable to drown in a tank full of water with no way to attain air except for hundreds of feet above you. The only thing to do was die. Slowly. Painfully. Knowing your fate as you try to prepare yourself for the unknown. Is there an afterlife? If there is, where will I go? Heaven? Hell?
Your time is not now.
Bacon. I smell bacon. The only reason I would be smelling bacon would be if I was in Heaven, right? Hell wouldn't have bacon. That would be ridiculous. Unless I can't eat the bacon. Then I'm in hell. Maybe this is some kind of ongoing torture. Satan dangles the bacon in front of my nose letting my smell it, and just as I am about to taste it, he pulls away. Dear God, please don't let this be hell.
Charlie's eyes fluttered open. Light was peeking through the dark curtains covering his window illuminating the room. His room. This was his room from when he was a child. He was in his parent's house.
Bloody hell…
Charlie sat up. He was lying in his old bed, the one he and Liam used to share. Obviously, it was only built for one small child. The blanket didn't reach past Charlie's ankles. That's when he noticed he was fully clothed in pajamas with no sight of his island attire. He was scrubbed clean, hair washed, fresh clothes, brushed teeth.
"Charlie! Charlie, honey, are you awake?"
Charlie jumped hearing that voice. His mother. What was going on? He was in his parent's house hearing his mother call him for breakfast, knowing quite well that he was dead. At least, supposed to be dead.
Purgatory. Dammit, I'm in purgatory.
"Charlie?" his mother called again.
"Uh, yes, I-I'm awake," Charlie answered back, his voice trembling. He looked down to his hands. Shaking. Something caught his eye. His ring was missing. The ring Liam gave him. It was gone. He had left it in Aaron's cradle before he left… There was a tan line on his finger where it had been. The island could not have been a dream. This was proof. Maybe not proof for anyone but himself, but it was truth enough. The island was real. Everything that happened on it was real. His death was real.
But why was he here?
"Breakfast, Charlie. Hurry, it's getting cold."
Charlie wasn't hungry. He felt sick. This was all so wrong. Everything was wrong.
I need to go back…
This was all too much for Charlie to handle. He slumped back onto his bed eyes tightly closed, breaking into a cold sweat. His breaths came in short gasps, his fingers clenched against his palm, nails digging into his skin. A soft patter of footsteps was heard as his mother came shuffling into the room. A small gasp came from Megan Pace as she sat down onto his bed. She began asking questions, dabbing Charlie's forehead with a towel. He could no longer hear. He could no longer see. Nothing made sense. Focusing was impossible.
You time is not now.
