Locke shouldered his way through the underbrush, ducking low branches, as the girl in his arms sprawled lifelessly, her mouth open dramatically, her arms flung out in a sign of defeat. Boone followed close behind. "Jack!" called the boy, "Jack!" over and over again as they neared the caves. Locke joined in the chorus every now and then of calling out the doctor's name in the vain hopes that he would hear them. "Jack!" called the hunter, as he ducked another branch, and "Jack!" called Boone, following.
Locke made a short leap down the clay bank and landed with a dull thump in the cave camp, the girl's head bobbing and lolling horribly as he weaved between the others, who gasped when they saw the girl, to try and find the doctor. "Jack!" called Locke, "Has anyone seen Jack? Jack!" Boone followed, still calling out the hopeless name, "Jack! Jack!"
Jack looked up from filling water bottles at the frantic sound of his name. When he saw Locke with the limp girl in his arms, he dropped the bottle in the spring and leapt to his feet. Charlie looked up from the same task, watching Jack. "What is it?" he asked, frantically, as Jack left hurriedly without a word. "What!" He pulled his bottle up from the pool, screwed on the lid, and hurried after Jack.
Locke held out the limp body to the doctor, who looked it over only for a second before taking it into his own arms. "What is it? What is it?" Charlie jogged up to them. "What is it? Is it Claire?"
It was. Her long blonde hair trailing, her blue eyes closed tightly, her slender neck exposed, Claire looked almost dead. Jack lay her down and Charlie knelt beside her, too close for the doctor's comfort, but he could not deny the little Rock God that small favor. Jack put two fingers to Claire's neck, and Charlie snatched up her wrist, running his hand over her small fingers, cradling it to his chest, holding it and sobbing into it. "Is she dead? Is she dead? Is she dead?" Charlie demanded over and over again, as Jack waited for the pulse results, "Is she dead? Tell me she's alive! Is she dead? Is she dead? – Oh, God!" He squeezed the little hand as Jack removed his fingers from her neck.
"She's fine, she's just fainted." Jack informed him, and Locke, who was standing over him. "And it's no wonder. It's a miracle she's even still alive."
"Claire, wake up," Charlie pleaded, running a dirty hand softly down her flushed cheek, "please, please, please wake up. Please, please wake up."
"Let her sleep," Jack instructed Charlie, who looked up at him with wide, woeful eyes. "She'll be just fine. Just let her sleep."
Charlie took Claire up into his meager lap, stroking hair back from her forehead, tears streaming down his boyish face. "Please, please, Claire, wake up. Please wake up, Claire. Please." He held her close to his chest, sobbing. "Please wake up, Claire. Please wake up." He stared down into the girlish face, strawberry lips parted slightly, blue eyes closed, long blonde hair trailing. "Please wake up, Claire." he whispered again, as a tear rolled down his cheek, "I need you."
Jack met Locke's eyes, and a split second of understanding flashed between them, but was soon replaced by their overpowering differences. Jack lowered his dark eyes and turned away, calling, "It's nighttime. I think it's time to turn in." He glanced up at Locke, who just stared back at him, and then turned and headed back towards the beach. Boone took one last look at the doctor and followed Locke. Jack let out a sigh of content. Locke was useful but he was undeniably eerie. Jack sat on the bundle of rags that he used for a bed and glanced around at the other inhabitants of the cave, smiling.
Then Jack's glance fell on Charlie. Charlie had not stopped cradling Claire like a baby, rocking her, whispering to her, and Jack could not help but feel sorry for him. If all the things that had happened to Charlie had happened to him he would have gone mad by now. Jack shook his head and pulled the ragged blanket towards him, covering himself, and lay down. Sun and Jin lay down, too, apart, Jin taking most of the covers. Hurley had also lain down to go to sleep, and Michael was watching Walt sleep, falling fast to sleep himself. Only Charlie did not return to his little cot of a bed. Instead he sat, leaning back against a cave wall, cradling the girl he loved. Finally sleep overtook Jack, and he closed his eyes.
Charlie was determined not to sleep until Claire woke which he knew could be for days, if at all. Still, he fought when sleep began to pull at his already-heavy eyes, willing them to stay open, for Claire. Everything he did anymore was for Claire. He had nothing better to live for. There were no more drugs, no more alcohol, no more Laeam, no more stardom, there was only Claire. Sleep lulled him, and his whispers of "Please wake up, Claire. Please, please wake up." became a soothing lullaby, and his eyes dragged until he could resist no more. He leaned his head back, still whispering, and fell into uneasy sleep.