Time did strange things when you were trapped on an island with 47 people, but nothing to really do. Not that there weren't jobs, but it wasn't like the outside world. A world where someone like Jack would have probably only seen Kate on the television news, or Claire would only walk by Charlie grabbing another fix. Here, though, here everyone came into contact with those that might not have in the outside world.

And the ones you want contact with, are too far away... Charlie mused as he stumbled over the chords on his guitar. He'd been thinking a lot about Liam after going in after Jack. He wasn't really certain why that was, maybe it was his remark to the group trying to free Jake that he had no one on the island to take care of.

He knew the reason he had gotten so angry with his brother before getting on the plane. He was angry at Liam for not "looking out of his little brother", and jealous of him for kicking the habit and gaining a wonderful wife and daughter. Why did Liam have to get everything? He'd had the glory in DriveShaft! He'd gotten a wonderful family! All Charlie had gotten was a spiraling hole that only heroin could fill.

He was beginning to tremble again, and his muscles and joints hurt so much he felt like his grandfather. Even though he was shivering, he felt like he was in the middle of a furnace he was so hot. Sweat stung his eyes, and his lungs labored for breath.

In, out, in, out, in, out, sheesh, my bloody heart sounds like drum! His guitar fell from hands, unable to hold it, but Charlie didn't hear it. He had the weird sensation that he was falling into himself as the world began to spiral around in confusion. His stomach twisted, as he began to feel sick.

He couldn't hear the confusion around him. Didn't see Hurley pull the guitar away just as his dinner came up, or that Jack and Locke were trying to make it through the crowd. All he could do was curl up as much as his protesting body would allow, close his eyes, and think God just let me die now! Eventually, his mind couldn't handle it anymore, and Charlie slipped down unconsciously to the forest floor.

Where am I? Charlie felt something cool and polished below him, something that was too even to be the floor of the cave. Slowly, he rose to his feet and opened his eyes. He was in a darkened hallway! There was light colored paper on the walls and splashes of moonlight coming through the open doors from the rooms beyond. This is most definitely not the island? How did I escape it though?

He glanced down at himself, and nearly yelled in surprise at the sight of being able to see through his body. He raised his hand up in front of his face and peered through it to the wallpaper beyond. Am I dead? Slowly, Charlie turned to the table beside him and touched it. His hand didn't go through the table. I don't think I'm dead. Besides, I doubt that if I were dead I'd been in a house. Hold on a moment...he thought, noticing a picture on the table. Picking it up he stared at the three people it portrayed; Liam and his wife and child. I'm in Liam's home in Australia. Looking around he saw the stairs, and began to climb them, suddenly desiring to see Liam one more time.

"Charlie," Jack called, trying to wake him up. They'd gotten him into the caves and into warmer clothes. Fortunately, the other's still thought it was a very bad flu, and not a detox. Charlie however remained limp and unresponsive.

"It's like talking to a rag-doll," one of the other survivors put in as she rolled up some sheets to place under Charlie's head.

"I know that," Jack snapped in exasperation. "Someone go into my cave and grab the suitcase of medicine. The rest of you clear out of here, I need room to work."

"Wait," Locke ordered, coming inside, "you and you, he pointed to the woman who had mad the observation and Hurley, stay outside in case we need you to go get something."

As the other's cleared out, the two sentries took their position and someone delivered Jack's medicine suitcase, Locke joined the doctor by Charlie's side. "I doubt those drugs are going to do anything."

"Do you know which drug he was using," Jack asked.

"Heroin," Locke answered.

"Opiate depressant," Jack frowned, "brain can't make it's own pain-blockers anymore. Can't give him a stimulant, not out like he his."

"If the brain doesn't have pain-blockers, it might have just shut down."

"He's not brain dead, Locke. If he were he'd be dead, we don't have any machines to keep comatose patients alive."

"That's not what I meant, there's more to a life then just the brain and body."

"What does the spirit have anything do to with this?"

"This is the worse attack Charlie's had, and it might have been enough to give a boost to some, um, astral projection."

Jack just shook his head, "if you are right, what do I do?"

"Wait, and make sure Charlie keeps breathing," Locke answered

"Wonderful," Jack responded.

The door to his brother's bedroom was closed. How many times had his brother slammed it shut in his face? That time was now, however. Now Charlie wanted in, and he wasn't going to let a closed door stop him. I didn't let a three feet of earth from keeping me inside a cave, and I'm not going to let a one inch door keep me out of a room. He opened it slowly.

Light spilled onto the sleeping forms in the bed. On the right lay Liam's wife, one arm curled around the pillow the other holding onto their little girl. Her dark hair lay spread out on the pillow. On the other side, facing away from his family lay Liam. Charlie could see his glasses on the bedside table and smiled. He walked into the room and slowly shut the door behind him. Quietly, he walked over to Liam's side of the bed and stood there, watching his brother sleep.

It wasn't long before Liam woke, slowly and in stages. He knew there was a difference in the room, and he felt like he was being watched, but he had no clue what had awakened him. The light and shadow blurred together without his glasses on.

"Hello Liam, the rock-god is here," Charlie said, with a smirk on his face.

"Charlie? God I must be dreaming again," Liam answered, sitting up with his back against the head-board, trying to fix his glasses around his ears.

"Would you stop blaspheming, it doesn't fit the new you," Charlie answered, still smiling.

Liam's mouth fell open, "you're...you're....."

"I came by for a visit. As soon as (if) I get back to the island I'm going to tell everyone else how to take a little spiritual jaunt," Charlie answered, thoroughly enjoying the look on his brother's face.

"You're not dead?"

"Well, a few minutes ago I was wishing I was dead. Let me tell you, detox on an island is bloody painful."

"You really are on an island?"

Charlie didn't know how to answer that. He had no clue how his brother could have figured that out. "What?"

"Megan, she's been saying you were on an island. We thought she was just imagining things. Well, my wife did, but..."

"You wanted to believe her."

"I wanted to see you one more time," Liam began.

Charlie laughed, "Why'd you want to do that?"

"To tell you I was sorry for what I did to you, how rotten I was," Liam said.

Sobering, Charlie laid a hand on his brother's shoulder, "Just try and live your life. Jake says that within the next three days I'll start getting better. I've got a lady I care about, and, well, people who care about me."

"You aren't coming back?" Liam asked.

Somehow, as soon as Liam asked that question Charlie knew that none of the survivors would ever make it off the island. They would never be found, and never see their families again, except like this. He smiled, sadly at this realization and shook his head, "not alive Liam, no I'll never come back."

Then Charlie turned and walked out of the room, vanishing before Liam's eyes.

"He's waking up," Jack called, has Charlie's breathing got better and he finally opened his eyes. He glanced at Jake's smiling face, then at Locke's more serious one.

"What happened?" he asked, voice nearly a whisper.

"You happened," Locke answered, "you passed out on us."

"I did? I thought I was at Liam's house," Charlie said.

"Here, drink this," Jack gave Charlie some spring water, "you were sweating so badly I'm afraid you got dehydrated."

"Can't move, don't have any strength," Charlie complained.

"Just rest Charlie," Jack said, "that's all you need to do."

"Thank you Jack," Charlie said.

"What for?"

"For caring about me," Charlie answered, as he drifted off into a deep slumber.

"He'll probably sleep for a very long time," Locke said.

"I'll bring Claire in here with him," Jack said, "he's always been around Claire when I've seen her."

Locke nodded, and rose, "I suggest the good doctor get some sleep too."

Jack just smiled and returned Locke's nod, "yes sir."