Across Enemy Lines

by Dreamality

Disclaimer: Lost and all related characters, settings, plots, etc. belong to J.J. Abrams and ABC. I claim no ownership and make no money from this venture.

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Chapter Three:

The sunlight glinted off the glass face of the watch on Claire's wrist when she glanced at it, making her squint. She tilted it until it was readable and was disappointed to find that only seven minutes had passed since the last time she had looked at it. She rested her hand on her stomach and looked out at the beach and the sea, taking note of what everyone was doing. She knew Sawyer was off in the jungle with a few others trying to hunt down some fresh meat. Sayid was in the ocean fishing, Shannon was lying on the beach, and the others were spread out doing various activities.

No one was watching Claire. No one ever watched her, except to stare at her stomach. She was free to move wherever she wanted, and no one ever noticed until much later. When she looked at her watch again, her heart jumped when she realized it was finally time. Hauling herself to her feet, she walked along the beach barefoot, towards the place Charlie had appeared to her on the previous day.

Claire knew that what she was feeling for Charlie was wrong on so many levels. Her excitement and anticipation for seeing him again was too much, too soon. She barely knew him, first of all, and second of all, he was a "bad boy." Not the type to bring home to mum, that was for sure. (A little voice in Claire's head reminded her that home was a long, long ways away, and Claire smiled briefly) A member of a rock band, a recovering drug addict, it all added up to one disturbed young man who Claire should not even consider getting involved with.

Still, as cliché as it sounded, Claire couldn't help but feel that he was a bad boy with heart. If Charlie cared enough to ask her for help, it looked as if he wanted to get better. He seemed to be a victim of circumstances. After all, what little boy didn't dream of being a rock star, and once that was achieved, how could he be expected to resist the lifestyle? Claire only hoped she might be able to help him through this difficult period in his life. Perhaps once it was over they might be able to build some semblance of a normal life together out of the ashes of their past lives.

When she reached the area where Charlie had appeared the previous day, she entered the jungle cautiously, calling his name softly. No reply came. She paused, scanning the thick vegetation with narrowed eyes for any sign of him.

"Charlie!" she hissed. "Are you out there?"

Nothing. Claire waited for a few moments, still desperately hoping that Charlie would come. When she didn't hear or see anything, no movement or stirring leaves or footsteps, she heaved a little sigh and turned away. As she walked along the sand at the very edge of the jungle, she was unaware of the pair of eyes watching her. She almost screamed when a hand extended from a bush and grabbed her arm, until she turned her head and saw Charlie's face. With a smile she followed him into the jungle.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, but I almost ran into Sawyer on the way and I didn't want him to hear me," Charlie apologized. They found their clearing again and sat beside each other. Claire looked at him with concern as she noted his heavy breathing and slightly glazed eyes. He glanced at her and tried to smile, but it turned out more like a grimace.

"Is it worse today, Charlie?" she asked.

He nodded. "Drug addicts are usually not hikers, especially ones who are going through withdrawal." He stopped to swallow hard and closed his eyes to block out the bright, burning sun. "Distract me?"

Claire thought for a second, then picked up Charlie's hand and began to rub it gently. "Last night I had the strangest dream. I was on a plane and everything was fine, then suddenly we hit some major turbulence and the plane came apart. Somehow, I survived and lived on a deserted island with a bunch of strangers."

Charlie laughed a little bit. "Funny, I had the same dream."

"Sayid keeps saying that it's only a matter of days until someone shows up. I don't believe him anymore. I've heard people talking –no one really talks to me if they can help it– and supposedly Jack said that we were a thousand miles off course when we crashed. No one will look for us here," Claire sighed.

"Now that's not being very positive," Charlie reprimanded teasingly. His breath was still ragged and he paused for breath often as he spoke. It looked to Claire as if breathing was difficult for him and she wished she knew some way to make it better. To compensate she continued talking if only just to take his mind off the pain.

"But we both know it's true. You knew it enough to get out of here and go with Jack. Kate figured it out, obviously. She started here on the beach and then went into the jungle with Jack. She gave up. I'm not scared anymore about not being rescued. Whatever happens will happen, right?"

"Que sera, sera," Charlie sang, off-key and weak.

Claire smiled anyway. "Whatever will be, will be. I like that song. It's so positive."

"Like you."

"I guess," Claire muttered. When Charlie looked at her oddly, she sighed and explained, "Sometimes being positive and happy is tiring. I want to just give up and be a pessimist, but I don't want to be so negative for my baby. I think negative energy affects him, kind of like a karma sort of thing."

"You don't have to be like that around me," Charlie said. He lifted his chin off his chest and looked at Claire with dead, haunted eyes. His face was very pale, except for the circles under his eyes that were like bruises on his otherwise unblemished face. He looked old, withered, and too thin underneath his dirty clothes. As usual, the mother in Claire began to fret.

"Have you been eating, Charlie?" she asked.

"I just throw it up," Charlie mumbled, his head lolling to the side once more.

"What about sleeping? You look exhausted." Charlie shook his head. Claire moved closer to him and put her arm around his thin shoulders, guiding his head to rest on her shoulder. He let himself relax against her, not having the strength in him to fight or protest. He could feel her stomach against his side, and when the baby moved he felt it, too. It made him feel oddly within and his heart made a strange move that had nothing to do with drugs.

"Try to rest, Charlie. You'll be safe here," Claire assured him.

"I don't want to be like this, Claire. I don't want you to think of me like this," Charlie said miserably. Claire shushed him and began to rub his back slowly and gently, as her mother had done for her when she was sick as a girl. At first, Charlie kept his eyes wide open, thinking that despite her kind efforts he would never sleep in that position. Then his eyelids began to feel heavier, his breathing calmed and deepened, and suddenly he was out like a light.

Even after she knew he was sound asleep, Claire's hand continued rubbing his back. She stared off into space, her eyes not focusing on anything in particular as she sang something under her breath. Deep in her heart, Claire knew that falling in love with Charlie should be the very last thing on her "to do" list. Yet she couldn't stop the thoughts in her head that kept telling her that he needed her to love him and somehow, she needed him to love her back.

The position they were in was not horrible romantic or even comfortable. Both of them were sweaty, and the lack of deodorant did not help matters. Claire's lower back ached and it felt like they were leaning on the most uncomfortable tree in the jungle. After awhile, the arm Claire had wrapped around Charlie went completely numb. Conditions were not ripe for love to blossom, yet…

"I love you, Charlie," Claire murmured before she herself fell asleep.

"Claire? Claire, you okay? Um, are you, like… alive?"

Claire's eyes opened slowly and she had to blink a few times until she could focus on her surroundings. When she saw the treetops above her she was confused for a second, until the cloud of sleep faded from her mind and she remembered falling asleep against Charlie. She was surprised, to say the very least, when it was not Charlie's face leaning over her but Shannon's. Claire frowned. "Huh? What did you say?"

"Oh, you're awake. What were you doing out here in the jungle?" Shannon demanded, her eyes narrow in both accusation and inquisition.

Claire's mind quickly thought of an excuse. "It's cooler in here than on the beach, and much more comfortable. I guess I just sat down and fell asleep." Her eyes darted around, wondering what on earth had happened to Charlie.

"If you ask me, it's not a very smart thing to do, sleeping in the jungle when you can't even move very much. I mean, just as I got here, there was something out in those bushes moving around. You're really lucky I scared it off before it found you," Shannon scoffed as she crossed her arms over her chest and tossed her hair. "You'd better come back with me and stop wandering off." Shannon turned around and strode towards the beach.

Claire used the tree to pull herself to her feet and trudged after Shannon. She glanced over her shoulder at the thick trees and vegetation a few times, wondering if Charlie was still watching or if he had already run off. When she looked back at Shannon and found the girl staring unabashedly at her stomach with something like fear in her eyes, Claire considered running after him and never coming back.

Claire awoke new emotions for Charlie; emotions he used to think had long since been dead within him. Sometimes it frightened him, but for the most part the feelings he had towards her were soothing and peaceful and made him feel as though all was right in his world. At first he was sure he was imagining these things, until he went to her for the third day in a row. The moment he saw her he smiled a genuine smile, something he hadn't done since the day Locke had taken his drugs. She smiled, too, full and bright, and surprised him by greeting him with a kiss on the cheek.

"How are you today, Charlie?" Claire asked, her hand resting on his cheek for a moment, then his shoulder as she surveyed him. His face still looked pale and drawn, but his eyes had lost a little bit of their deadness and had just the faintest glimmer of light back in them.

"Better." The word popped out without Charlie's consent. When he realized what he had just said, he had to pause and think about it for a moment. Then he added, "I mean… I'm not… it can't be fixed in a few days, but… I'm getting there."

"I'd hoped you might say something like that. Did you make it home all right yesterday?" Claire asked as he helped her ease onto the sandy floor.

Charlie smirked a little at the word "home." How odd that he might consider the place that had almost killed him a home, but after considering it he couldn't remember what a real home felt like. Then, in answer to Claire's initial question, he nodded. "I heard someone tramping through the trees and ran off before anyone could find me. Sorry I had to leave you like that, love."

Claire waved off his apology. The baby gave a particularly hard kick then, making her frown and wince. Her hand moved to rub the spot on her stomach until the pain subsided and she closed her eyes and tried to rest her head against the tree trunk behind her only to be disturbed a second later by another kick. Charlie watched in concerned silence as she grimaced and tried to calm the child within by rubbing her stomach in firm circles. For the first time, Charlie noticed that Claire looked tired, with her eyes bloodshot and accented by shadows beneath them.

"Is something wrong, Claire?" Charlie asked hesitantly. She looked at him and smiled, though it seemed strained. He was well familiar with such smiles, having forced so many of them in his own life.

"Oh no, I'm fine, Charlie. I just didn't sleep very well last night is all. The baby didn't feel like settling down," Claire answered.

"How about you try having a bit of a kip, then? You can lean on me, if you like," Charlie offered.

"Thank you, Charlie, but he's still moving around in there. I won't be able to sleep," Claire explained, looking down at her stomach with just a tinge of frustration in her voice.

"So your sleep cycle revolves around him? You have no say in it?" Charlie asked, frowning in a sympathetic sort of way.

Claire shrugged. "If there was a rocking chair on this island, that would help. Sometimes if I take a little walk he quiets down."

Charlie jumped up and offered her a hand. "Then perhaps a stroll through the enchanted jungle is in order?"

Claire allowed him to pull her to her feet and lead her between the trees along an imaginary path. He stayed close to the beach, yet far enough in that anyone on the beach wouldn't be able to see them. Claire hated that he had to hide like a criminal, but she knew huge problems would arise if he was found by someone like Sawyer, armed with his volatile temper. They moved slowly and Charlie kept one arm around her waist for support, which Claire appreciated more than she could say.

Both of them froze when the distant sound of crashing trees, as if a large animal was moving through them, met their ears. They exchanged a glance, neither wanting to voice their fears. The sound was far enough away to ignore, yet close enough to cause alarm. Charlie's grip on her tightened slightly in a protective way and, without thinking, Claire grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

"You should go back," he said.

"I don't want to leave you," Claire admitted.

"I know."

They stood as if frozen in time for a moment, their eyes locked. Charlie thought they must look like a photograph from the cover of a cheesy romance novel, with their tropical background and torn, ragged clothing. Yet there was nothing cheesy in the way the light filtering through the canopy of trees highlighted Claire's hair, or in the way her eyes held both innocence and wisdom within their deep blue depths, or in the way her touch on his hand was sending tingles along his arm and down his spine. Charlie's hand rose slowly to brush a curl away from her face and she caught his hand in her grasp, lacing their fingers together.

"Claire," Charlie murmured, his deep, rough voice sending a rush of heat to her cheeks. "If I were to kiss you right now, how hard would you slap me afterwards?"

"It depends how good the kiss is," she answered softly. She meant to say it as a joke but her voice came out deadly serious.

"Is that a challenge?" Charlie asked. Claire smiled and said nothing.

The gap between Charlie's mouth and Claire's was easily closed. Her mouth was soft and warm and nothing like any girl Charlie had ever kissed in the past. There was no aggressive tongue trying to invade his mouth, no bitter taste of old beer or liquor, no lingering scent of marijuana or bitter taste of cocaine. There was only the scent of woman and the scent of Claire, and Charlie thought he could live off of that for the rest of his life. Her hands didn't grope at his clothes and his body and she didn't fall apart at his touch. It was, in a way, humbling that she didn't look at him as a rock god, and still empowering because of the heady feeling that accompanied the kiss.

Perhaps the kiss lasted only seconds or perhaps it lasted an eternity. Either way, it all came crashing down very quickly when the dreaded sound penetrated their consciousness, suddenly much closer and far more threatening.

Without thinking, Charlie tore his lips from hers and began to run, but not alone. His arm stayed firmly around her waist and he did not take a step without first making sure that she was still with him. They tore through the jungle, Charlie half pulling and half carrying Claire back towards the camp, where she would be safe. The thing, the monster, the creature, the animal, whatever it was, seemed to be right on top of them, yet a hurried glance over her shoulder revealed nothing of its shape to Claire. There was definitely something, but all she could make out was a shadow moving through the trees, tearing down anything that got in its way and did not yield immediately.

Charlie took Claire through the jungle, past their little clearing, to the edge of camp. Claire clung to him for just an instant, trying to convey to him with her eyes what her mouth couldn't say. He gave her a little push and she turned away, emerging into camp from the bushes. The people on the beach had heard the commotion and were panicking, and as Charlie watched he feared no one would remember the pregnant lady. In another instant he was going to go get her himself and face Sawyer's wrath later, but just then one of the men saw her and went to her aide, allowing her to lean on him as they ran away from the unknown danger.

Now that he knew Claire was being taken care of, Charlie turned his attention to his own safety. He spun around and sprinted off into the jungle, running blindly only to put as much distance between him and the thing that could rip apart a full grown man and take down trees like they were twigs.

In the farthest reaches of his mind, the tiniest little part of Charlie was still riding high off the kiss, and between the panicked thoughts of I'm going to die, I'm going to die, that thing is going to get me, I'll be a bloody corpse in five minutes if I don't run, I'm going to die out here that were running through his head, a little voice occasionally whispered, I kissed Claire, I kissed Claire, I kissed Claire…

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To Be Continued…

Author's Note: "Que Sera, Sera" sung by Doris Day and written by Jay Livingston and Ray Evans, belongs to them, not to me.

Once again, thank you to everyone who has reviewed my story. You are all very kind and encouraging! Personal reviews can be found in the review section. Thanks for reading!