A/N: Hope you enjoy, thanks for the reviews.
Time to Let Go:
Panting, Charlie ran. Sweat poured down his back, icy cold. His eyes darted around his surroundings, panicked.
The crashing sounds were getting closer.
He could practically feel the dirt turn up behind him.
He didn't know which way was which. All he knew was that he had to get out of there.
His foot caught on a vine and he tripped. He felt the statue shatter in his pocket.
He thought only one thing before he hit the ground; save the Heroin.
With Claire...
She awoke with a start. She clawed at her stomach through the material of her top, expecting to feel a large bump. She gasped and pulled up her shirt slightly, seeing only her flat stomach.
Where was her baby?!
Suddenly her memory came crashing down on her. Her baby was in heaven.
It had been a dream, Ethan, the syringe, everything.
No, though it had been a dream, it had happened.
It was my fault, she realized. The truth jolted her heart.
No, no, she couldn't blame herself. It'd just been a very, very, very unfortunate mishap.
No, it was her fault.
Her stupid two-faced mind was arguing. Her conscience was saying one thing while her logic said another.
She didn't know what to believe.
She stared up, into the sky. It was dark, black midnight.
She should be getting back, the others would worry about her. She sighed, it came from her very soul.
She pushed herself up and trod across the sand. A song on her mind. A song her father had sung to her, and that she hadn't had the chance to sing to her child.
"Catch a fallen' star and put it in your pocket, save it for a rainy day,
Catch a fallen' star and put it in your pocket, never let it fade away."
Her voice cracked. It only added beauty to the song. Tears cascaded down her cheeks. She'd never cried so much before.
She felt like she'd failed. Failed being a mother, failed her job.
But it was much worse than that, as someone's life had been taken.
She just couldn't believe it was true. She wished it were all a bad dream.
Big girls don't cry.
She wished she felt numb like she had that morning. Numbness was better than pain.
The full moon illuminated the sand. To any one else it would have been considered beautiful. But she hated this island and everything about it. But she couldn't leave.
Even if rescue ever did come, she couldn't leave Aaron. She needed to be able to see him everyday, even if she could only talk to his grave. And he needed her.
Finally after what seemed like hours, after thinking every bitter thought she could about the island, the others, and even herself, she arrived at camp.
She didn't even bother answering the questions everyone was bombarding her with, she simply pulled the flap back and entered her tent.
Everything was as it had been earlier, there was no hint that anything had changed drastically.
She sighed sadly and slumped onto her bed. Tears were already coursing from her red rimmed eyes as she glanced at the cradle where her beloved once layed.
She went forward and kneeled before it, passing her hands over the blankets, pretending he was there. He wasn't.
She was so enraged that this had happened to her. Why her?
"Why me?!" she shrieked angrily. She picked up the cradle and threw it as forcefully as she could against the wall of her tent. Her suitcase, anything in eyesight was sent crashing around the tent, 'till finally it collapsed.
She sunk to the ground, small frame shaking with each heartbreaking sob. She ignored the eyes watching her, just cried. That was what she needed, a good long cry, someone to rub her back while she coughed and wailed.
With Charlie...
He cradled the baggie in his hands as he pushed himself up and ran like the devil was chasing him.
Maybe he was.
He scooped the broken pieces of plaster from his pocket onto the jungle floor.
It wasn't until later that he realized the 'thing' wasn't chasing him anymore.
He looked around in wonder, eyes wide. He wasn't even stoned...yet, and he was already seeing things.
Normally Charlie didn't crave it so bad; the Heroin, but after the terrible mishap that had happened earlier, he needed something to numb the pain. And it was so available. So real.
His eyes darted nervously around him. No one was there. No one would know.
He pulled at the elastic eagerly, fumbling with the baggie. His hand shook as he poured a pile of cinnamon powder into his hand. He'd missed this feeling. This feeling of control. He got to control how much he had and when.
He stared at the small mountain of powder in his palm. Was he really going to do this? He might become addicted again.
No, that wasn't going to happen. It was just this one time. Just until he was over Aaron's death.
Without another thought, he brought his hand to his face, sniffing the line.
It hurt so much, like getting water up the nose but on a much greater level. He could see strange shapes and colours behind his closed eyelids, which he'd shut in pleasure and pain.
He felt dreamy, he hadn't felt this way in months, three months, eight days to be exact.
He strolled through the jungle, all fear and sadness instantly disappeared.
Little did he know that all those things and much more would be waiting for him when his high wore off.
With Jack...
Claire was suffering from depression. With one look at her face as she returned from where ever she'd been, he could tell.
He would have to talk to her.
Hopefully she wouln't need a shrink, much like Hurley did.
A/N: So, hope you liked it, suggestions are welcome, reviews insisted on, blah blah blah...
Yeah, well...Hesitantly shuffles away.
xox Sacha