RIDDLE

"A writer is someone who can make a riddle out an answer."

- Karl Kraus

Warning! There MAY be spoilers ahead. I'll put at the beginning of each short, the last episode that it adheres to. (i.e. "Golden Bell"; spoilers up until "Daddy Issues") But consider this your formal, generic warning.

Disclaimer: I don't own LOST, ABC, or Disney. I also don't own the lyrics/quotes/poems referenced unless otherwise stated. I don't own much…please don't sue me.

A/N: Okay, this is going to be a bit different than what I usually post. The series of short fics that I will be posting here are the LOST section of a little writing exercise I do for myself. I give myself a song lyric, movie quote, poem, etc. to work with and I have to come up with a fic that incorporates it somehow. How, is as follows:

Song lyric: The fic has to encompass the lyric. I don't usually insert the lyric into the fic, but the fic has to reflect the mood of the lyric.

Movie Quotes: Is usually incorporated into the fic. It doesn't have to exactly fit the context it was originally used in, so long as it makes sense inside my story.

Poem: Pretty much the same as the song lyric, I try not to rhyme in my stories, but if the poem is prose, I might slip it into the fic itself.

Sound interesting? Not really? Meh. I'm posting these up as separate one-shots unless it's stated that it will be part of a short series, but nothing I post in here will be very lengthy. Less than 5000 for each entry, I should think.

OOooOooOooOo

Golden Bell (pt.1)

Spoilers: "All the Best Cowboys Have Daddy Issues"

Character Pairing(s): hinted Charlie/Claire (or, Chair, if you will, the lovely 'ship name by Minty!)

Feed: a quote from The Last Unicorn

"You name is a golden bell hung in my heart. I would break my body to pieces to call you once by your name."

It wasn't his fault. Not if he really wanted to look at it and pick it apart.

But it was so much easier to blame it on himself. Blame it on his ignorance, his weakness, his inability to ever to anything right. It was easier to think that it was him, not just some freak chance that something like this could happen to her.

She didn't deserve it and God just wouldn't let this happen to someone so wonderful.

So it was his fault. Had he been better, it wouldn't have happened. Had he made a better decision, it wouldn't have happened. Had he put his life on the line right at the beginning, he wouldn't be doing it literally in the end. She could have run, or screamed, or something. But as it were, he'd been a right idiot and just listened to Ethan.

But something told him it would be best to just let Ethan have charge. Something was…off about the man. Charlie couldn't believe he hadn't noticed it the first instant he ever saw the man. How could he have trusted him to get Jack!

He wasn't being fair to himself, he did try, however briefly, to stop Ethan. Put himself in front of her, and told Ethan to back off. Of course, it only took Ethan's large hand to wrap around Charlie's neck and squeeze, and the Englishman was left on the ground, sputtering and suddenly blindfolded.

Claire had been unnaturally quiet to begin with. She cried, and you could hear that. Hear her ragged breaths when she'd try and stop herself. Occasionally you'd hear a whispered, "please," but nothing more.

"Claire," it had become the only word Charlie could bring himself to say. Her name. Most of the time it was meant to be reassuring. Or if he'd hear her stumble, it was to check if she was alright. But sometimes, sometimes he'd say it, and he'd sound more lost than he'd ever felt in his entire life.

Charlie was lost in the darkness that the blindfolded provided. He had no idea where they were going, or what was happening. All he knew was he had to think of something. Had to find a way to save her. He flexed his fingers on his left hand and suddenly had an idea. Stealthily, he fumbled around and managed to loosen the tape on his one of his fingers and drop it to the ground. Genius! He wished he'd thought of it sooner, but he was confident that Locke would be able to find them, track them this far. Locke was creepily good at that sort of thing.

A few moments later, he dropt another one, and then, he spoke her name again. "Claire," this time it was more reassuring and confident. He reached out his hand blindly for her.

"Charlie," her voice was raspy and thick from her tears, and Charlie felt a surge of anger towards Ethan race through him, but it was quickly suppressed when he felt Claire's hand in his own. That became his lifeline.

Before long, it started to rain. Charlie and Claire had fallen silent. More than once, Charlie had felt the urge to tackle Ethan, where he could hear him walking, and beat the man. But somehow, he gathered it to be a very, very bad idea. Much like it had been a bad idea when he'd tried to remove the blindfold behind Ethan's back. He'd ended up sprawled on the ground, the only thing his vision could register being blinding red light.

Finally, they came to a stop. The rain was beating down and they were surrounded by hundreds of whispers. Charlie felt Claire's grip tighten painfully and he returned the gesture, afraid himself. The whispers were deafening, so much that he barely heard Ethan's voice saying something, and then more footfalls, more voice, more people.

And then the rain began to let up, the whispers began to fade. Charlie felt Claire move closer to him, and the urge to rip of his blindfold was stronger than ever. There were others around then now, Ethan was suspiciously absent. At least, for a little while. When he returned, he was most unhappy.

"Kill the spare!" Ethan's voice roared, and Charlie felt his heart drop to the jungle floor. All sound vanished and he felt himself begin to quake. God, that meant him!

Suddenly, he was ripped away from Claire, and she sobbed loudly. "No!" he heard a scuffle, and then she went still, though her cries were still audible.

"Claire," his voice was weak and he felt like a child lost at the shopping centre. "Claire!" his voice gained strength, but lost resolve. He felt several pairs of hands on him, and then a thick vine go around his neck. Oh, God. Charlie felt sick.

Forgive me Father, how did those prayers go? He couldn't remember, so instead he chanted that phrase over and over. "Forgive me Father," he managed to whisper it out, but choked on his fear.

"CHARLIE!" his name was thrown from Claire's mouth and he felt his heart stop briefly. He opened his mouth to speak her own, but the noose tightened, and he was in the air.

And she screamed. God, she screamed. It would haunt him until he died, that sound. Charlie wanted to just die then, just, please, God, take me now. Of course, things aren't that easier, and her screamed bounced off the trees and the air and his very soul.

Claire! He wanted to say her name. He clawed at the vine that was constricting his throat. He tried to form her name, but all that left his lips were breathless sputterings and chokings. He couldn't breathe! He tried to gasp and failed.

It's funny, how the one thing you want to say is the one thing you've said more than anything else in the moments leading up to the want. All he'd been able to say was her name, and now, in the moment he wanted to call out to her most, he couldn't form the word.

Claire. It wasn't that hard. It shouldn't be, anyway. One syllable. No funny sounds. Just Claire. Clarity, innocence, purity, the one person on that island that ever looked at him as if he were useful. As if he may have been needed.

It's funny how she picked the wrong person. But, God, what he would give just to say her name once more. He knew she was gone. They were gone. He was alone. It wasn't that hard to realize, if he took a moment from drowning in his fear and lack of oxygen.

She was all he had stood for. Everything that mattered to him on this bloody island. He felt anger, anger that gave him surprising clarity in his fading moments. Anger towards Oceanic for building faulty planes, anger towards Jack for not believing Claire and for being the driving force in Claire's need to leave the caves. And he felt hatred. Hatred and blinding anger towards Ethan. The rat bastard that caused this aching death, the rat bastard that had dragged Claire and her baby away. He hoped Ethan would die painfully.

In his last moments, Charlie tried to find some good memory to hold onto. One good thing that mattered. But somehow, they were all blurred and fuzzy. Peanut butter, he couldn't even rightly recall how that came about. He could only hear her screaming. His arms hung limp, his head lolled forward, Charlie had quit trying to breathe a long time ago. His lungs burned, and his heart beat erratically, trying to keep functioning. His brain was spotting and Charlie wanted to cry. He wanted to scream and he wanted, more than anything, he wanted Claire. He wanted to see her, and see that she was alright. Her name was the last thing he thought of. How he would have given his body, his mind, and his soul just to call her once by her name.

OOooOooOooOo

I'm never really pleased with these things! Raa! Anyhow, this was, obviously, Charlie's PoV from the kidnapping scene and what happened. Not a lot happened, really, in my opinion. Ethan is teh creepy and I wouldn't have tried to pick a fight with him either.

As you may have noticed, this is Part 1 of a series. A two part series, so nothing major. Though I will be using several quotes from The Last Unicorn in my next few shorts, as it's the best movie ever! This quote I shall be using for both Charlie, and next Claire. So, the Claire PoV should be up momentarily, if you've somehow read this before I've uploaded it.

Read and Review please! Oh, and check out my other stories "Threading" and "Broken Memory". (dances)