Disclaimer: I don't own the TV show "Lost." I take no credit for these incredible characters. I only am a person who enjoys writing and appreciates good writing.
If you dared to pass by the fire--perhaps on your way to sleep in the caves, perhaps to get a drink of water--if you chose to ignore the fire's lingering warmth, you might've heard the silent sound a fret makes when hands are placed tentatively on it, the sound of fingers moving up and down the neck of a guitar. You would see a hunched over figure, faintly hiding in the shadows obviously trying to make itself as small as possible. Would you be frightened? No, of course not. You would know that it was Charlie, attempting to capture a small bit of sad music that was floating around his guitarlessness, empty mind.
Charlie put his fingers on the C chord. Tried to strum it. His fingers dance along the edges of the strings, flirting with remembrance. He licked his chapped lips and tried again. Still, nothing.
He heard a cough and took his eyes off the guitar and looked at the bare feet in front of him. He looked up, and saw Jack. Jack, with a bottle of water in his hand.
Jack flinched at the sight of Charlie's eyes. They were hollow and empty, and red, like he'd been crying. His neck was still scarred. Jack quickly handed the water bottle to Charlie, who gulped it down greedily. When he was finished, Jack asked, "Are you…hungry?" Charlie nodded slowly and confused. Jack smiled sadly. Sometimes, you needed to remind Charlie to eat. "Okay," Jack said. "I'll get you some food."
He walked over to the fire, where the survivors were roasting one of Locke's latest catches. He glanced over at Kate, who said quickly, "I want to take Charlie picking tomorrow."
Jack looked at her hard. "Are you serious?" he asked. "Do you think he even wants to go in the jungle?" "Shhh!" Kate hushed. They both looked behind them, but Charlie did not stir. "It'll be good for him," Kate said in a hushed tone. "It will make him feel like he's needed." "Claire needed him," Jack muttered. Kate looked at him as if she had never seen him. "Jack!" "What? It's the truth! The woman was pregnant, she should've never left the crash site." "I can't believe you'd say something like that, Jack," Kate said quietly, refusing to look at him.
There was awkward silence for a few moments. Jack tore some boar off of the spit and stood up. Kate still wouldn't look at him. He sighed. "Okay," he muttered, beaten. "I'll ask him."
He walked heavily over to Charlie. Charlie looked up and took the meat from Jack. Jack said quickly, "Kate wants to know if you want to go fruit picking tomorrow with her." Charlie's listless head snapped up quickly. "Why?" Jack hesitated before he spoke. "She needs someone to protect her." "Oh…" Charlie was quiet for a few moments. "Will Sawyer be going?" Jack smiled. Everyone on the island harbored some distaste for Sawyer. "No…no…he's staying right here." Charlie nodded, again confused.
Jack smiled slightly and told Charlie not to stay up too late, and walked over to where Kate sat. "He said yes," he, for lack of a better word, giggled. Kate beamed and threw her arm around him, looking back at the shadows and grinning.
If you walked past the shadows at that moment, you might've heard the faint strumming of a C chord.