This chapter is from Shannon's POV for a change, because I needed her humor to keep it from becoming too dark for comfort. But if you don't like it don't worry; I'm going back to Claire's after this.
Oh, and I'll be leaving next week for a town in the middle of nowhere, in a state in the middle of nowwhere. Hence, no internet access. However I'm hoping to get another chap up before then and the next one will be on my to do list while I'm there so I might have a few more by the time I get back. Hope you enjoy this one in the meantime!
Shannon's hand closed around the handle of the plastic grocery bag that sat in the trunk of her car, the sound so artificial and foreign to her ears that she mentally cringed at the reminder of what had changed. She had never been grocery shopping before a month ago. When she was a teenager the food had just magically appeared in the refrigerator and she never really gave more than a passing thought to the process that went into the selection; the different brands, the price comparison, whole wheat vs. white, it was all so utterly frivolous. But now it actually mattered and Shannon wasn't sure what disturbed her more; that she never thought about it before or that it actually concerned her in the present. Of course now she was shopping for more than herself, something that she was reminded of with a jump of her heart as she recognized the hooded figure that approached her.
"Oh hey Charlie." She tried to sound as inconspicuous as possible and she hoped he didn't notice the waver in her voice or the way her muscles tensed. She tried to remind herself that this was just the same clueless, wouldn't-hurt-a-fly Charlie, but since what Claire had told her, she really wasn't sure what he would do.
"Shannon," he greeted shortly, and she was relieved to know that her voice had revealed nothing of how nervous she felt, at least compared by the obvious tremor in his. On closer examination, Charlie wasn't exactly looking so hot. Or maybe, as he was sweating uncontrollably, that was the exact problem.
"Are you feeling alright? You look kind of…" she search for the words to put it nicely, "… like crap."
Charlie attempted a smile but failed.
"Hey, have you heard from Claire?" Charlie rubbed his eyes, and then gave her this look that took her totally off guard, like he could see right through her and would know if she lied.
"Why?" Shannon crossed her arms across her chest and decided maybe being evasive was the best course.
"Well she and I got into a tiff about a week ago, and I don't know where she is. I'm starting to get worried."
Shannon inwardly sneered, thinking that he had just spoken the understatement of the century with calling their catastrophic blowout a mere 'tiff'. But she didn't bite like he wanted, to confirm that she was indeed in contact with Claire.
"I'm sure she's fine. Maybe you should just give her some space."
Charlie twitched.
"I just-" he reshifted on his feet and rotated his shoulder, clearly uncomfortable under her scrutinizing gaze, "- I really need to see her. I need to talk to her. She keeps me from going completely bonkers and I just… I really need see her." Charlie averted his gaze and scratched a phantom itch on his cheek.
Shannon repressed the urge to feel sorry for the man, but she knew that Claire was her friend and by the law of girlfriends she was required to take her side. So she compromised.
"I'll tell her you stopped by."
Charlie looked at her then, strangely, like she was the one tie to the world and she was sailing away, cutting him off, and also that he doubted the validity of her statement. But he didn't call her a liar or persist, he just nodded, seeming satisfied that she was going to do all that she could, and walked away, faintly waving goodbye to her little girl who was still in the front seat of the car. Shannon was suddenly very glad Aaron had elected not to come along on their outing.
Shannon released a sigh she hadn't realize she had been holding in and grabbed as many bags as she could, motioning for Grace to follow her. The girl followed obediently, unlike herself as a child, and waited by the front door as Shannon struggled with the bags to unlock it. When she stepped inside it unnerved her how quiet it was, considering that the house wasn't empty. The she heard a sniffle from upstairs and that, quite disturbingly, quelled her fears. After all, that's was the grand total of what had been issue from the woman since she had arrived last Thursday night, bags in hand. Claire had dropped Aaron off with her a few hours before hand, but Claire had been so distant and hurried that Shannon barely had time to get in any words, none the less the reason for her last minute favor.
Shannon pulled out some essentials that had been specifically bought with her friend in mind, and carried them upstairs, not quite sure why she was trying so hard to not make any sound on the staircase. It seemed like it was disrespectful some how, to remind Claire that there was life still continuing outside of her realm of grief and confusion. She knocked softly on the bedroom door, calling out her name, more as a warning and less permission to enter, before pushing her way in. At first Shannon thought the resistance to her entry was because Claire had barricaded the door, but then as she thrusted harder she noticed that the hindering was not intentional, but from the meal tray that Shannon had left just inside the door last night, still uneaten.
"Claire?" she called again, and this time received a 'humph' as a reply. She traced the sound to the bed where she guessed the lump of covers was actually a person. If she squinted she could see a lock of blonde hair, coming from the blankets, like a lone tentacle from some unseen creature. Shannon sat down carefully on the edge of the bed, slowly peeling back the covers to reveal… socked feet and a blonde rag doll that she guessed was from Claire's childhood.
Great. Now I have to play Where's Waldo with which end I should actually be speaking to.
Shannon growled under her breath and hoped Claire didn't notice.
This time Shannon had it right, and when she loosened the blankets from Claire's face she didn't cringe or try to hide the tear soaked eyes; she just stared blankly ahead, almost catatonic.
"Claire, I brought you something to eat." Shannon pulled from behind her back a jar of peanut butter and Hershey's chocolate hoping one or both would cheer her up. And another box of tissues if neither worked. Instead Claire just stared at the jar of peanut butter, the glazed over expression telling Shannon that she was having a moment. A memory moment. So she patiently waited while it passed, like all nostalgic moments pass, after which you move on to the present. When it did Shannon put the jar into her outreached hand, Claire ate it silently, one finger-full at a time, and waited until it was the right time to speak.
After a few minutes Claire looked less sickly and more alive, so Shannon approached the subject carefully. Or she at least tried.
"I saw Charlie."
Claire's eyes widened and she stopped eating, but she didn't speak. No words so therefor no protests to Shannon took that as a sign to continue.
"He looked really awful." Shannon hoped that would cheer Claire up, and was fully prepared to go into every unflattering detail, but Claire didn't seem like such things mattered, so she moved on the angsty stuff. "He says he misses you. That he needs to see you."
Claire squeezed her eyes shut but a few tears leaked out despite the barrier. Shannon would have hugged her, but she wasn't exactly in the position to. So instead she smoothed back her hair and whispered the only words she could think of.
"I'm sorry."
And that was enough for now, knowing that someone, someone who could understand the pain of loosing the man she loved, and then it happening again, was there for her.
Next time: Claire and Shannon meet up with the rest of the original female LOST cast, and discuss Claire's problems with Charlie.
