The Facade
"Welcome to your Oasis," Charlie stretched his arms about, motioning to the area outside of the caves. "The rocks are hard and the dirt gets in your eyes and hair, but the water's clean and good and the fire keeps you warm at night."
"Just like home," Claire joked, grinning as she placed a bag by a rock that Charlie told her that her stuff could stay. The place was actually quite warm and welcoming. The branches of the trees surrounding them were long and green and lovely and the rocks, despite being obviously uncomfortable-looking, were a deep brown and glowed in the firelight and some of the sunlight that managed to sneak through the thick layer of trees providing them shelter.
What the best part really was that Charlie looked positively giddy to have her staying at the caves with him. She couldn't deny that goofy grin of his that she sometimes, selfishly, thought he saved just for her. A knight of goofiness and amiability so in contrast with that childhood image of a Knight rescuing her from a tower of cottage cheese, gallant and preeminent. The weirdest thing was, she had a better time around Charlie, laughing and sharing stories of stupid things they had done in the past, then she could ever imagine in her fantasy.
Charlie was fast becoming one of the best friends she had ever had.
"Do you like it?" he asked, almost earnest as he stepped closer.
"Yeah, I do." Taking in a deep breath, a few more long looks at her surroundings, the gray and brown rocks outlining the area. "Could use a bit of dusting."
Charlie's grin reached from ear to ear and she smiled just as big in response. It was a reaction, one she couldn't control. Like back in secondary-school when the picturesque Aiden Winchester would glance her way, perhaps to look at something behind her or to simply make his on-off-on-again girlfriend jealous by looking at another girl, and the corners of her lips would curl up as her nose scrunched up and her two front teeth came out and bit her bottom lip in a shy smile that she always considered a sure-fire sign to boys that underneath her bucktoothed, bookworm-esque appearance she was a young woman with a sexual awakening just waiting to be brought out.
Only with Charlie it was different. More like the way you squirm when someone deliberately brushes their hand along your side to tickle you, you pull away from their touch but don't go too far because deep down, especially when it's an adorable and good-hearted handsome chap doing such a thing, you want them to keep on doing it.
"I'm sure we could fashion some brooms and tidy the place up," Charlie explained, shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. "I'm sure you'll like being up here."
"I'm sure I will."
"Well, I'd hope you would because the reason you're up here is to keep you safe, right?" A moment passed and Charlie, his reaction time slow at the moment, caught onto something he had said. "Not that there aren't other reasons. Because I do want you here. I love the company…you're company. I just…"
Claire never stopped grinning as she held up a hand, stopping him from embarrassing himself even further. "Where's my spot to set up my bedding?"
"Oh," Charlie snapped his fingers, giving her a thankful reminder that she needed a place to sleep. The excitement he had was too immeasurable so he wasn't surprised that he'd let quite a few things slip his mind, even something as important as Claire having a place to sleep.
His hand reached out for hers, dirty and shaking. It'd only been a week since he'd thrown the last of his 'stuff' in the fire, with the help of Locke, but the lack of possession, the burning in his nostrils and the dryness in his mouth was undeniable. Charlie only wished he didn't have to suffer the side-affects around Claire.
She took it without hesitation, allowing him to drag her into the dark caves. Once they were a good few feet inside he turned sharply to the right, leaned down to his knees and pushed open what was revealed to be a set of curtains that, besides being dirty and ripped in several spots, made Claire's smile grow impossibly larger.
As her eyes adjusted to the dark she could make out bedding already set up for her. It looked quite comfortably and hospitable, something she could add a few of her own personal touches to and it could be called home. Yet the strange feeling at the front of her mind was that she didn't want to change any of it, knowing Charlie put some effort into making her feel welcome, safe and comfortable.
"Mine's uh…just next to it," Charlie got to his feet, brushing his legs off and shyly avoiding Claire's eyes, pointedly looking at the area he cleared for Claire, a bit of satisfaction in his successful venture in bedding making flashing through his mind. "Just in case you might want something. This way you don't…you don't have to get up to get to me."
It was obvious he was trying to come up with excuses and Claire admired him both for his concern for her and the fact that he wasn't so keen on allowing her to know just how much he hoped for her to be happy. Hoping he wasn't ashamed, Claire's eyes fell to the ground when Charlie finally found the courage to look at her, knowing the look in them would betray what she was thinking.
"Sounds perfect," Claire assured him, turning to leave so she could grab her bags outside. "Be right back."
Just as she turned on her heel, Charlie grabbed her wrist to stop her. When she looked over her shoulder she saw him looking at her with a wide-eyed, innocent look. She knew what he was going to say before he even opened his mouth to speak.
"No need to be straining yourself," Charlie whispered, a half-grin flashing across his face as he walked past her to the exit.
"No need for you to be so overprotective," Claire whispered back, teasing him as she followed closely.
Charlie didn't seem to mind being called overprotective, never once showing a reaction to it as he reached her bags. When she showed up right next to him grabbing a bag, she could see him biting back the urge to tell her to rest once again. "I'd rather be overprotective than let you strain your back."
"As sweet as that is we both know that I can take care of myself despite everyone else thinking that I, a pregnant woman, can't do squat. Unless of course, you think the same?"
Charlie's only response was his mouth hanging half-open, as he just gawked at her, not sure how to answer a question he didn't quite get at the moment. "I um…well…"
"I'd love for some help," Claire grinned at him, pressing a kiss on his cheek before yanking the bag up and returning to the caves, ready to unpack every last piece of cloth she had salvaged from the wreckage.
"You wouldn't believe the kinds of junk that people would toss aside when they saw no immediate purpose for them," she was starting to do what she always did when that tugging feeling at the pit of her stomach appeared, making her uncomfortable and causing the lower part of her back to stiffen and ache. A tactic she had used for the past eight and a half months, she never had quite known when she had started to think it would actually work. Most of the time it did, distracting herself with talking so fast about something stupid and hardly taking a moment to even catch her breath.
With confusion and concern intermingling in his deep blue eyes, Charlie tapped her on the shoulder so she stopped before she could even begin.
"Is something wrong?" he asked her in a slightly amused tone, noticing her cheeks were flushed as he leaned forward and placed the rest of her luggage gently on the ground.
Looking down at her feet for a moment, her hands still gripping the blue and white tank top and neon orange flip flops she'd pulled out of one of the suitcases. When her stomach rumbled as it had been doing all day, she swore Charlie could hear it. "I tend to ramble when I'm hungry…"
When she looked up she was surprised to see that Charlie was more relieved than anything. His features softened and that crooked grin of his appeared, causing Claire's feet to tingle. She still didn't quite know why they did that yet.
"You should have said something!" Charlie held his hand out for her to take, already taking a step towards the path they had just come from. "You're eating for two these days, bloody hell. We might not have that much here right now but I know that I could try and catch you some dinner."
"Catch? As in fish?" Claire asked her disbelief clearly etched in her voice. Seafood and sushi hadn't made her nauseous like most other pregnant women but still, eating a raw fish was the last thing she wanted to eat. But, then again, it was either that or invisible peanut butter.
Not that the gesture wasn't the most adorable thing.
At the other end of the camp, where a deep puddle of clear water that Jack had approved of lay, Sawyer sauntered into the camp with his backpack hanging loosely from one shoulder while he unraveled a cap from one of his many water bottles. Ever since the caves had been discovered he'd been able to get refreshing water, the only catch was having to walk a mile there and a mile back to the beach every time. Fortunately he didn't make the trip that often, but once he did he could never resist stirring up trouble.
Dropping his sack to the ground, Sawyer firmed his jaw and winced as the shooting pains came back again, reaching all up his right arm and then to every other inch of his body. Only it was when Jack walked up to him that he was groaning, more in frustration than in anything else.
"Maybe we should look at your arm," Jack suggested, noting the fierce stare and hardened expression Sawyer had on his face. When his hand reached out, Sawyer slapped it away, his knuckles purposely clashing with Jack's just to cause some friction and piss the doctor off.
"Maybe you should be paying more attention to your little dysfunctional society!"
Jack laughed, the bitterness hard to miss. "I'm guessing that was a dig."
"I'm just sayin'," Sawyer laughed right in Jack's face, exactly in that smarmy, cocky way he knew would rub the doctor the wrong way. As he twisted the cap of his water bottle back on, tossing it into his bag, he smirked as best as he could when he finished with: "Not healthy for this little civilization of ours to be separated. Not good leadership on your part, if you ask me."
Having enough, Jack held his hand up and just shook his head; as if he were disappointed that Sawyer couldn't just let things go. Turning to go, he shot back over his shoulder. "Forget it. Get out of here. I'm not going to help you anymore."
"I'm sure Kate would. Maybe I'm embellishing, but I'm thinking the girl has a thing for m-"
Before he could even finish, Jack's clenched fist was crashing into his cheekbone. A hit that caused the entire camp to drown in silence as the two of them tackled each other, beating the crap out of each other as best as they could.
Yet before any lasting damage could be done, Hurley walked up to the two of them and pulled them off of each other. "You guys need to relax!"
Sawyer shoved himself away from Hurley, wiping the blood dripping from the broken skin caused by Jack's knuckles.
"Look at you, dudes. Fighting like a bunch of sissy school-boys over whose hair looks better."
When Sawyer grabbed his pack and walked off and Jack turned to leave, Hurley merely shook his head, rolling his eyes the entire time. "Men."
Pressing his hand over his forehead so the sun wasn't directly in his eyes, Charlie took in the sight for a second before turning to Claire. He'd been away from the beach for all of two hours yet he still was quite surprised at how many people were there when he took a moment to get a head count. "Maybe this isn't the best spot to do the fishing."
"What do you mean?"
Slipping his hand under Claire's as casually as he could, Charlie took a long step and helped her along the unleveled path as they started to walk not in the direction of the camp but towards the far right side where neither had seen anyone go to. "All these people have been out in that water at least once today looking for food. There's either no fish in there or the ones that are got frightened away."
"So you're suggesting we go where the other's haven't reached yet?"
"Exactly." Charlie glanced to her, his eyes squinting in the sunlight as he laughed at the sight of Claire's extremely large hat. As long as the sun wasn't hurting her eyes Charlie wasn't going to tease her about her choice of attire.
Planting his feet firmly in the sand as he and Claire stared to climb the large hill of sand, Charlie carefully moved upwards, making sure Claire was in front of him so if she were to fall he would catch her. Gripping her hips just tightly enough to keep a hold on her but not enough that she would slap his hands away in reaction to pain, he grunted trying to get the both of them up.
Thankfully their little trek ended as they reached the top. Claire was the first to reach the top and, as Charlie struggled to get his footing, she didn't start walking off without him. Instead she removed her hat and looked at something off in the distance, something that caught her eye. The look on her face was one of complete and utter confusion, triggering Charlie to just toss himself up the hill just so he could see what she was gawking at.
"Such an adventure just to get some fishies," Charlie made an unsuccessful joke as he brushed the sand off of his shirt, standing up and looking at Claire, his brow furrowed and smile fading. "What-?"
She lifted her hand to point where she was looking and he followed her line of sight to discover something he wasn't necessarily expecting.
About a half a mile in the distance was a shelter. One story, big enough to fit a few people and placed just outside of the jungle, facing the almost placid ocean. Mouth dropping, Charlie ran a hand along his face a few times, blinking repeatedly to make sure it wasn't a mirage.
"What in bloody hell?"
Claire's head tilted to the side as she continued to look at it, a little 'Mmmph' sound indicating she was still a bit dumbfounded. "Is that what I think it is?"
Charlie took a few steps forward, sliding a little down the sand as he tried to think of who could be living so far away from the camp. "Did Sawyer…relocate?"
Claire turned around and looked back to the camp. "No, his shelter hasn't moved."
Without taking his eyes off of the small adobe, Charlie shot his hand back for Claire to grab for some support as they started to tread down the hill. "I never noticed it before…"
"Well, the reason we came over here is because no one's ever been this way yet. At least…not this far, I think."
Charlie shrugged, his shoulder's slumping as his quest to come up with some explanation for why the shelter was there and who was in it failed miserably. "You think we should knock and see who lives there?"
"This might sound crazy but considering the things I've heard about this island…what if it isn't a who?" Claire's disbelief in what she was saying was clear in her tone, but Charlie took it into consideration nonetheless.
"You never know these days."
A fresh gust of wind pushed them to the right every few feet, bringing the salty smell of the ocean and fish waiting for them to their mouths as they walked closer and closer. When they were near enough to make out the fact that the shelter was made from pieces of luggage and plane wreckage, Claire pointed out to Charlie that there was a person, a young woman, lying down in the sand reading a book.
When the girl, whose shoulder-length, dark red hair, obviously not her natural hair color, flew wildly in the wind, noticed them approaching she hesitantly raised a hand up and waved at them.
Charlie and Claire waved back just as uncertainly as they approached, not as cautiously as before, but still not with the open welcome, friendly demeanor that others might expect from them. The girl closed the book, her finger keeping her place, and stood up. Looking no older than seventeen, she was in her bathing suit but had a pair of rolled up cargo pants on, which she wiped the sand from as well as she could before looking at them again, her face squinting against the sun.
"Hi," she says quietly, her voice almost completely drowned out by another gust of wind. Finally, Charlie and Claire stopped walking towards her, about five feet between them and her, and she finally relaxed a little, as if she were half-expecting them to be coming to beat her up. "Do you…need help or something?"
"No, no." Charlie assured her, brushing it off as he looked out to the ocean for a few moments before looking back at her with a warm smile. "We were just having a walkabout and saw your fantastic little shelter and decided to check it out. I'm Charlie, by the way."
The young woman bit her lip, either to suppress laughter or a horrified look, when Charlie held out his trembling, dirty hand to her. Still, she took it and have him a good shake, offering a smaller more forced smile. "Hi, Charlie.'
"And I'm Claire," Claire lifted her hat up a bit so she could make eye contact when she had her turn in the hand shaking.
"Nice name," the woman nodded her head and then awkwardly looked down at her feet. A second later she lifted her head, slapping her hand against her forehead. "Oh! Sorry. My name's Jessica."
They shared a small laughed but Jessica still remained uneasy.
When the silence stretched out for too long, Charlie finally spoke up, his curiosity getting the better of him. "What're you doing this far out, away from the camp?"
Jessica shrugged, looking over her shoulder at her shelter. "Call me a sissy, but I'm just not comfortable sleeping around a bunch of strangers. Especially when most of them are creepy-looking men."
"I totally understand that feeling," Claire laughed, rubbing her belly unconsciously.
"I mean it's like bending over in public places. I'm just afraid if I turn my back I'll either get something stolen or get grabbed at."
Charlie nodded his understanding before lifting his hand to motion at the shelter, missing Jessica flinch just a little in reaction to his quick movement. "I like what you've done here."
"Ah, it's nothing." Jessica modestly looked down to her feet, shoving a hand in her back pocket while she finally just closed her book and knelt down to put it on the ground. "I just got some of the branches from high up on the trees, the ones that survive the winds, and managed to make everything stick. For now. When those strong winds come, this little shelter of mine is toast."
Another few moments of silence. This time, it was Jessica who broke the silence. "So…you guys really just walking around?"
"Well, we were actually heading out here to catch some fish." Charlie scratched the back of his head, laughing at the prospect of going out in the ocean to catch fish he wasn't even sure were out there. "It's going to be…interesting."
"I might have something…if you need help," Jessica quietly admitted. Before Charlie could even respond, she turned around and, after lifting a heavy door-like piece of metal to get inside of her shelter, disappeared from their sight. After a second or two, she came back outside with a loopy, bamboo-like stick that she attached a few wires to. It was a hand-made net. "This might help. You can borrow it, if you want."
When she handed it to Charlie, his eyes widened and he grinned like a child getting a brand-spanking new toy for Christmas. "Wow! This is amazing; it will help very, very much. Thank you!"
"You're never going to grow up, are you?" was the eternal question that Boone always brought up before and always will because, no matter what, he'd never get an answer out of Shannon.
Predictably, she crossed her arms, scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Oh, just go find a retard and teach him how to play soccer or something!"
"I have to start another fire and waste another hour, even two, trying to get this fish as far away from raw-tasting. You know what could have been done to avoid this?"
"No, but I'm just certain you're going to tell me," talking with a lisp in a mocking tone was all Shannon could do to not result to using air quotes, even though she knew doing so would piss Boone off just as much.
"We'd be eating right now if you woulda just done what I told you to do!" Boone yelled back in response, not even caring that he was letting her get to him, which was exactly what she wanted. "All you had to do was, when you woke up this morning, make sure the fire didn't go out and put the fish over the fire."
"They still would have tasted just as nasty."
"Nice explanation, Shan."
"Well, I try!"
Boone, having enough, simply threw the fish in his hand to the ground. "No, you don't. That's the problem."
"Why don't you stop preaching and fuck off, huh?" Shannon suggested, knowing that the throbbing in the back of her head and the tightness in her chest, while undeniably painful, was also unavoidable and she couldn't calm herself down without letting Boone see her suffering once again from an asthma attack, just like earlier that day.
It was funny, really. Now that she was okay after getting gooky slime wiped all over her chest to suppress her asthma, Boone was back to treating her like crap. Something she had forgotten to do this morning, when she was actually having the attacks, is fair game now that she was all right. Fucking Boone.
His jaw firm and eyes fuming with anger, Boone took a step forward, his face inches from Shannon's as he lowered his voice to a quiet growl. "You know, if you were really my sister, I'd feel pretty bad about hating you so much."
With a grunt, Michael dropped the last five suitcases he'd balanced all along the path all the way to the caves. Wiping away the sweat with the back of his hand, he sat down for a moment to catch his breath, ignoring the fact that Hurley was doing the same after carrying a small, five-ounce duffel bag.
Glancing over to Walt, Michael tried to keep the frustration boiling up under the surface when he noticed his son was doing nothing at all while everyone else around him worked his or her asses off. "Hey, why don't you help out?"
Walt merely shrugged; turning the page of the comic book he'd read a thousand times already since they'd been on the island. "I offered to help earlier and you said you didn't need any. I got busy with something else."
"And what's got you so busy you can't help out?"
Letting out a sigh, Walt looked up at his 'father' and Michael swore he could see the corner's of his mouth just itching to form a smirk. "Watching you carry around heavy things and ignore me."
The look in Michael's eyes was undeniable and Walt took the opening he had to leave before he was in any kind of trouble for opening his mouth.
Hurley watched the kid go before shaking his head, chuckling. "Walked right into that one."
"I can't spend every minute with him," Michael sharply said, more to himself than Hurley.
"Look, as big of a help as you are around here, you need to hang out with your son, dude."
"I guess you're right," pushing himself off of the rock, Michael ran after Walt.
Grabbing his son's shoulder and stopping him, Michael knelt down so he was eye to his eye with his son. "Look, I'm-"
"I'm a little busy trying to go somewhere else."
There was a vein that Michael was afraid of. It was his own and right next to his temple. It appeared when the boiling point in his frustration capacity levels was far-passed and he was inches, seconds from taking something and wrangling it like Homer Simpson with his son Bart. "You need to cut the attitude and stop acting out because you're not getting enough attention, son."
"You think I want your attention? I don't."
"Good!" Michael stood to his feet in a huff. "Because there are a lot of things more important than you."
That was it. He fucked up. Again. Walt gave him the 'look of death' and turned to run as far away from Michael as he could.
"Wait, Walt!" Michael started to go after him but stopped, remembering what it was like being ten, being mad at his dad at something stupid he said. Choosing to give his son some time alone, Michael turned back to finish helping around the caves.
Sighing into the wind, Charlie stretched out his arms, wriggled them about and bent down, prepared to get back into 'his game'. Claire had left back to the camp to see if anyone else needed some water, since she was already getting some for herself and Charlie, so he was out in the ocean, alone, attempting to catch some fish. Attempting being the key word.
But as his eyes drifted across the surface of the almost placid water he could see in the reflection that he wasn't completely alone. Up by her shelter, Jessica was still outside, facing towards the side of the beach where the camp was as she leaned against the hard metal walls of her little adobe, reading away.
Apparently she was more intuitive than he was because seconds into looking her way, she glanced at him, perhaps feeling his stare on her. She returned her gaze to her book and Charlie returned his attention to fishing.
His hands gripping the net just above the calm surface, Charlie kept his feet positioned in the same exact spot but turned and twisted his upper body, slowly enough as to not disturb the fishes, to try and get a good position on the litter critters.
Finally, when he caught sight of a big one, he buried the net and half of his arm in the water to catch it, only to trip over himself and fall face-forward in the water.
Jumping back above the surface, with no fish in the net, Charlie cursed himself under his breath as he spat out a thousand gallons of water from his mouth while the rest poured out of his ears.
Giving up for the moment, he turned to go back to shore to rest his aching legs. After about three hours of fishing, he considered himself eligible for a break. When his eyes met the shoreline he saw a pair of feet that weren't Claire's. They belonged to Jessica, who awkwardly waved at him, slowly treading in the water towards him.
"You make it look like a lot of fun," she managed to crack a joke, but the smile on her face, even if it was warmer than the one she had given Charlie and Claire when they had first met, was still quite forced. "Thought you could use some help with whatever you're doing."
"I'm fishing," Charlie reminded her, staying out in the waist-deep water, waiting for her to meet him there.
"Well, technically you were 'trying' to fish, considering you haven't caught anything yet."
Charlie sheepishly shrugged and looked down at his feet, which he could see through the clear water. "Got any advice?"
When he looked back up at her, he saw her shaking her head. "Not really. I hate fishing, even when it involves a pole, string and bait. All I really know is that it's not good to move around and from my experience I keep the net under the water. It's usually when you try and dive into the water that the fish swim away."
And just then she pulled out another net from behind her back, her smile moving from strained to awkward as she awaited his response. Charlie was surprised she actually thought he'd refuse help.
Motioning for her to come join him, Charlie turned and looked down into the water to find some fish. They weren't as big as the ones from earlier, but they would do.
"I have enough for today and tomorrow, so all that's caught today is for you and Claire."
Charlie tried to hide his admiration that she could catch enough fish to last a few days, but his earnest tone gave it away. "You catch a lot of fish, I'm guessing."
"Oh, no way." Jessica laughed at the prospect of her ever catching more than two or three. "Sometimes I get lucky, that's all. I can live without fish so it's no disappointment when I walk outta here empty-handed. I was never a fan of seafood."
Impressed with her casualness about the whole fishing prospect, Charlie smiled at her for a moment. "You're about the only person on this island besides Claire that doesn't act like they know everything."
"Are the other people really like that?" Jessica asked, doubtful.
"You really haven't talked with anyone on this island, have you?"
"Nah," she brushed it off. "I was at that service, the one that was held for all the people that didn't make it. I didn't really see the point of making friends."
Charlie stood up straight, forgetting about fishing as he heard the words leave her mouth. "There's never really a point in making friends other than…well, making friends."
"I guess you can say I was one of those wishful thinkers. I thought by now we'd be rescued and I'd be home."
"That makes a little sense," Charlie tried to understand it, scratching his chin as the prospect of being alone on an island when there was the option of not being alone. "Still, I couldn't survive that way…"
Jessica abandoned the fishing for a moment, glancing at Charlie for a second before relenting. "If the other's on this island are as nice as you are, and Claire from what I got from saying all of two sentences to her, then maybe it wouldn't be bad to make friends. I just haven't decided when I wanna put in the effort yet."
"First impressions can sometimes be misleading," Charlie said quietly, hearing the word 'nice' in reference to himself. He still felt bad about not telling Claire about his past indiscretions and now a nice, impressionable young lady was calling him 'nice' and she had no idea he was a selfish rock god with a drug problem.
"True. Like I said, I met you and thought you were pretty nice, but now I'm thinking you've got a lotta secrets. All 'rock gods' do."
Charlie, ignoring the complete sarcasm in her tone when she said 'rock gods' looked at her, shocked. "Do you read minds or something?"
Jessica merely pointed to the ring on Charlie's finger. "Too cool-looking to be a class ring. Must've been pretty dedicated to get rings issued for your band."
"Oh, this…" Charlie spun the ring on his finger for a moment before pushing the memories to the back of his mind. "Long story."
"I get that," Jessica commiserated. "Got a lot of those too. Makes you think that you're a total dork because you have all these stories that you think are funny and no one else does. Or really long, drawn-out ones that hardly anyone else on the planet would ever wanna listen to. You know what I mean?"
"All too well," Charlie nodded, resting his chin on the butt of the net grip. "Claire's like that. She's good at listening. Listens to all my ramblings and I still don't know why."
It was then that he noticed Jessica had finally relaxed a little; let her guard down enough to be at least a tiny bit comfortable with Charlie. He was glad, because the prospect of such a nice person being all alone on the island was one he didn't want to have to think about day and night. She deserved a few friends and he was willing to be one of them.
"So, how long have you two been together?"
"Me and Claire? We're friends."
Jessica covered her face, her cheeks flushing pink as she shook her head, groaning. "I'm sorry. I always bring up those uncomfortable subjects that, after it's pushed aside but not really pushed aside, there's like this long awkward silence. Only, I hate awkward silences so I tend to ramble on and on so I can avoid the-"
"How old are you, anyway?" Charlie asked, stopping her before she suffocated from the lack of breathing. Every few minutes she would have one of those teenage quirks, using the word 'like' a lot or just the facial expressions that went along with what she said. It was quite entertaining yet at the same time she acted more mature then Charlie would expect from a teenager.
"Seventeen," she answered, almost bashfully.
"What were you doing on a plane without your ol' parents?"
Her eyes shifting downward and her hand moving up to tug a stray piece of hair behind her ear, Jessica bit her bottom lip before clearing her throat and changing the subject. "So…since you're nice and haven't tried to make a pass at me like most perverted rock gods, I'm going to go on from this point and consider you a pretty decent guy. And because I haven't chatted with anyone for…however long we've all been here, I'm going to bombard you with questions? Any outraged objections?"
Charlie smiled wryly, nodding permission. And when Jessica returned her attention to the water, looking for fish, so did he.
"What was the name of your band?"
"Driveshaft."
Jessica straightened at that, looking at him with a raised eyebrow before rolling her eyes. "Not at all phallic-oriented."
It'd been a few hours since Sayid had left the camp, since he'd tortured Sawyer, since Kate kissed Sawyer…a few hours too long for Kate to not talk to anyone. They'd been stuck on the island for a few weeks and still Kate had really opened up to only a few people, Jack being the main one.
All the feelings that she didn't express, the thoughts no one knew she had…Kate needed some time just to unload all of it on Jack, who was always willing to talk to her, which she was more than thankful for.
Up ahead a familiar face yanked Kate out of her thoughts. It was Claire, whom stirred an overprotective urge in Kate, who sped up to lessen the space. "Claire, hi."
"Hi, Kate."
"You really shouldn't be walking all alone in this jungle, it's dangerous."
Claire, still smiling, glanced around and leaned forward, her voice a whisper. "You're alone too, Kate."
Laughing at her blindness to her own stupidity, Kate closed her eyes and immediately apologized. "Sorry, sometimes I get really…"
"Happens to the best of us," Claire shook it off, waving goodbye as best as she could with the several water bottles in her hands.
Watching Claire disappear into the jungle, Kate wondered if she'd always be so stupid and hypocritical.
Burying the thought, she turned around only to run straight into a panicked, sweaty Michael. "What's wrong?"
"It's Walt, I can't find him. I let him run off before but I can't find him now!"
With her hands on Michael's shoulders, Kate tried to calm him down with a soft, soothing voice. "Where'd he go before, what direction?"
"I don't know."
"Let's go, we'll find him. Don't worry," when she noticed that there was doubt in Michael's eyes, she firmly said again, making sure he heard her: "We'll find him."
Not wasting another second, Kate let Michael lead the way as they went off in search of his son, Kate's simple worries washed away in the panic of making sure the search was successful.
TBC…