Disclaimer: Don't own Charlie. Or Claire. Or the featured song. Day-um.
Title: Drowned World/Substitute For Love
Pairing: PB&J, hahahahahahahahahahahahahLOL! (Pregnant Blondes and Junkies, as coined by one of the members of the CharlieClaire LJ Community...)
Summary: Just a few Charlie musings throughout the episodes, of course about himself, and Claire, and himself and Claire together. :D
Song: Yes, it's a songfic, my first one in a long, long, LONG time. Featured song is "Drowned World/Substitute For Love" by the Immaculate One herself MADONNA, from her "Ray Of Light" album. I was listening to it the other day, and since it's the first track...and you know, I was just kind of thinking...and this songfic is the product of that thinking...I didn't use the entire song, it would be too long that way...
Rating: Eh...I'd say, I dunno, PG for language?
Warnings: Spoilers for 2 or 3 of the episodes shown so far, none for any episodes we haven't seen yet.

DROWNED WORLD/SUBSTITUTE FOR LOVE
A Song Fic
By Marciana (dat's meeee...)
Song by MADONNA

The cold air from outside blew into the caves, making the flames in front of Charlie dance even more. He chose to ignore the flames, and the wind. He was thinking. And no one was allowed to disturb him when he was thinking really deeply.

Well...maybe except one.

Charlie looked up from his guitar to where Claire leaned against the cave wall, looking out at the rain and semi-unconsciously running a hand over her stomach. She looked peaceful as always. He'd never seen her in this light before, not so close to the fire. Shadows danced across her pale face, but she didn't seem to mind. And frankly and quite honestly, Charlie didn't mind either.

She must have felt him watching her, because she turned her head towards him. Charlie quickly covered by pretending to write something in the air, and then strumming at his guitar any random chords that came to him. Had he not looked away, maybe he would have seen her smile at him reassuringly.

He found it funny in a sardonic kind of way that the first thing he does to cover up for something was to pretend he was writing music. And now a song was running through his head, and he didn't know why. It wasn't his. It was, of all people's, Madonna's. He had never admitted to liking Madonna's songs, and he never would, but one of her songs was in his head for some reason...what was the title of that song again?

A fly buzzed around his head, and he tried to bat it away. He noticed the ring on his finger...

I traded fame for love
Without a second thought
It all became a silly game
Some things cannot be bought...

Liam had said he had had enough. His life was different now, he said, he had a wife and kid to take care of...the band just wasn't his thing anymore.

But that didn't make any sense to Charlie. It had SO been his thing once. It had been all about the band for Liam once...maybe it had been too much his thing. This was where it all started, didn't it? Liam got too diva on Charlie.

"I AM DriveSHAFT! No one knows who the sodding bass player is!"

But they did. Apparently. Would he have needed to go to confession everyfuckingsingleday of his life since DriveSHAFT started if no one knew who he was?

I got exactly what I asked for
Wanted it so badly
Running, rushing back for more
I suffered fools so gladly...

Locke came up to him then, asked if he could sit down. "It's a free island," Charlie said, and Locke laughed appreciatively. "You okay, Charlie?" he asked. Charlie nodded, but then when he thought about it...

"No, not really," he said. "Withdrawal's a bitch," Locke empathized, "But at least you did the right thing. I wasn't kidding when I said I was proud of you. I really am. That was a big thing to do, chucking it into the fire."

Charlie eased some tension in his neck by rubbing at it. "Yeah, but..." he started to say, but he couldn't find anything else to say other than, "It's really painful. I just don't look it, but I feel like shite." "You're a strong kid, Charlie," Locke said encouragingly, "You'll be okay. If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna just go and get some water. The pregnant girl-"

"Claire," Charlie interjected immediately. It had burst out of him right away. He hadn't intended it to, it just did. Locke looked at him for a while as if he knew something now that Charlie wasn't letting anybody else know. "Right, Claire," he said, "Well, she asked me to get some water. She said she'd ask you, but you looked busy."

Charlie wanted to bang his guitar on his head. Or pitch himself off a cliff. Whichever was more effective in knocking him dead. Stupid stupid stupidstupidSTUPID Charlie, you freakin' A... He set his guitar down, albeit a little too roughly for it to not have any scratches, and rushed towards Locke and the water.

"I'll get that," he said, "I'll bring it to her." Locke looked at him scrutinizingly for a second, and Charlie just shrugged. Locke handed over the water, and Charlie made his way up to Claire, who was watching the rain again.

And now I find...

"Ding dong," Charlie said, and Claire looked up at him, almost surprised, "Sorry, does a Miss Claire live here? I've got a water delivery for her." Claire giggled, and Charlie could hardly fathom why he liked it everytime she giggled like that. "You know, Charlie, you really shouldn't have," she said apologetically as she skooted so that Charlie could take a seat beside her, "I've interrupted your music."

"No, it's fine," Charlie said immediately as Claire took a swig from the water bottle, "I was starting to sound like crap anyway." "Aww, I don't believe that," Claire argued, "You will never sound like crap." "Oh, you don't know me," Charlie said, "I sound like crap all the time." But Claire shook her head. "You know, that's completely, utterly impossible," she said. Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?" he said, "Why is that?" "Because, Mr Rock Star Who Thinks He Can't Sing," Claire replied, "Crap has no sound."

It was exactly something Charlie would have said, and he chuckled more at the irony of it all than at the joke. And Claire giggled.

I've changed my mind...

Claire yawned. "Rain always makes me so sleepy," she remarked. "So what are you still doing awake?" Charlie asked. Claire shrugged. "Can't really sleep," she said, "I've got a lot of things on my mind all of a sudden." "Well, if you tell me about them, then they won't be on your mind anymore, would they?" Charlie offered, "They'd be...out of it. I don't know what I'm saying. Do you want to talk to me? I could probably help you out."

Claire looked at him, really looked at him, and Charlie had never seen her look at him like that. She looked like she had something she wanted to tell him, but wasn't sure she could.

"I...um..." she started uncertainly, and Charlie just waited paitently. Besides, he kind of liked her it when she was all...uncertain and confused...she got this cute little look on her face that reminded him of a baby...

"I'd love to hear you playing your guitar," she said in one breath, so it actually sounded to Charlie like, "Lubooheeooplaortar." He almost laughed when he thought about it again, but he got up and took his guitar.

The face of you
My substitute for love
My substitute for love...

On second thought...

"I don't think you want to hear me play, Claire," Charlie said as he brought his guitar back with him to where Claire was sitting, "I've not played in a long time...I'm crap at it now." Claire shook her head again. "Again with the crap-Charlie analogy," she said with a laugh, "What's so nice about crap anyway that you love to attach yourself to it, is what I want to know. Just shut up and play me something, and don't tell me you're crap, I'll take your guitar and clonk you one on the head with it if you do."

Charlie finally relented, and he began to play. And that was when Jack came in, semi-drenched to the bone. Obviously, he had come from the other tent and had braved the rain. His eyes landed on Claire and Charlie immediately. "I just wanted to see how you guys were doing," he said. "Claire?" "I'm fine," she said cheerily. "And Charlie," Jack started, "How are you doing with your-"

"Tired of answering that question," Charlie interrupted before Jack could say anything else, "Otherwise, like shit, so I'm great." Jack nodded slowly. "If you say so, man," he said, "I gotta go, I just needed to see if you guys were okay." And he disappeared into the rain.

...I've had so many lovers
Who settled for the thrill
of basking in my spotlight...

"What question?" Claire asked him suddenly, "Did something happen to you, Charlie? Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine," he said, but Claire was looking at him with worry. Genuine worry. "I don't think it's something you want to know, Claire," he said quietly, "Let's please leave it at that for the moment."

Again, Claire looked at him, this time right in the eyes, and Charlie was suddenly glad for the darkness in the cave. Otherwise, Claire would have seen him blushing furiously. No one, absolutely no one, ever looked at him like that in his entire life. Why was she doing it then? How was she doing it? "Okay, Charlie," she said after a while, "But remember, I'm your friend, I'll be here whenever you need me." And she yawned again. "Play me something, Charlie, won't you?" She leaned her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed, ready for sleep.

And Charlie played. He played for Claire. Because she wanted him to. So he did. At this point, he realized, he would do anything for Claire, if it meant she was going to be okay. Because he cared for her. He cared for her like no one he'd ever cared for before. But he wasn't about to tell anyone that.

Drowned World/Substitute For Love. That was the title of that song, which was still running in his head. Which he was plucking on his guitar.

Should I wait for you...
My substitute for love
My substitute for love...

Claire squirmed a little, wriggled a little, until she was practically hugging Charlie. But when Charlie looked at her, she was already fast asleep. Charlie smiled softly. He'd never seen anyone look so peaceful when they were asleep. He didn't fight the urge to kiss her on the forehead.

And now, I find
I've changed my mind...

He set his guitar aside, and looked into the fire, content for the first time in a long time.

This is my religion.

A/N: Hope you liked. Leave feedback, peanut butter for all those who do plzthnx!