A few days later, Charlie's situation had not gotten better. Quite a few of the bites had swelled, turning an even more furious shade of crimson. He was constantly under the attack of cold sweats, and seemed to be getting paler. Despite the disillusioning exterior, he was seemingly of perfect health, still helping gather firewood and even (against Jack's wishes) became boar bait on a few occasions.
One day as Jack was doing inventory of all his remaining medical equipment, a voice startled him. "Jack," the bubbly voice said. "I'm worried about Charlie." Jack got up to see Claire, still as resilient and sunny as ever, but with a saddening worried look on her face that nearly melted his heart. Her bright blue eyes pierced his, making him completely forget the medicine.
"What seems to be the matter?" Jack said, looking out into the cave clearing where Charlie was entertaining Walt, Michael, Shannon and Hurley with his guitar, occasionally standing up and dancing like a loon.
"Have you not noticed?" Claire said, increasing her worried tone. "He-he's pale as a sheet, those sores have grotesquely enlarged, and-and….oh Jack, I'm worried about him. Will you check on him for me?" She said, smiling sweetly; the doctor couldn't help but smile himself. He nodded.
"Sure thing." Claire smiled again and left, going to join the circle to watch Charlie sing. "Just a minute," he called after her. She turned around. "How's your memory doing?" Claire shrugged and started to walk back to him.
"S'coming back…slowly. I don't remember much of anything except peanut butter and lots of leaves. Dunno why." She shrugged again happily and this time joined the group. Jack sighed.
"Charlie, could you come here, please?" Charlie stopped and looked up in Jack's direction. He looked back to his little following, including Claire, who sat a further distance away on a rock, smiling happily. Charlie's heart set aflutter. Something told him she had to do with this. If we ever get married, she will be the death of me. Reminds me of mum, he thought jokingly. He stepped down from the rock he'd been using as a stage, setting his guitar down gently; but not before kissing it goodbye, resulting in a few laughs from the "crowd." Charlie walked over to Jack.
"Yeah?"
"How you doing, man?"
Charlie shrugged. "Ok, I guess. The bites have gotten a little bit bigger, but that's all."
Jack put a hand to his chin thoughtfully. "And you've gotten paler, and I've heard you complaining about cold sweats…shall I go on?"
Charlie got a surprised look on his face. "When have I complained about cold sweat?"
Jack chuckled. "You talk in your sleep. No one short of the entire camp knows. That, and something about the Teletubbies, but I won't even go there." They both laughed.
"Lift your shirt," Jack said. Charlie looked around. Claire was still sitting on the rock outside, but she glanced away when their gazes met. Charlie smiled and removed his shirt. Jack closely inspected the unusual bites on Charlie's pale abdomen. "That is no mosquito," a silky, accented voice said. Startled, Charlie turned around, but Jack remained calm. "Sayid is here to have a look," Jack said. He, too, has been bitten by this mysterious bug of yours. "Only once," Sayid said. "I was smart enough not to climb a tree." Charlie looked insulted. "This isn't a peep show," he said rather sulkily. Strange, Jack thought, staring at Charlie who was wrestling with his shirt as he put it back on. No less than about 5 minutes ago, he was being a clown, now he's all…pissy. Mood swings a symptom of the insect's sting?
Charlie stormed out of the cave down to the beach to think.
"I don't think I will be as highly affected as he," Sayid said finally. "He needs attention soon- we don't know what kind of insects those were, or what their poison- if it is poison- can do."
Jack sighed. "We can only hope he's in a good mood tomorrow," watching Charlie's messy hair disappear down behind the hill. Claire had gone, either following him, or to another part of the caves. Sayid looked Jack straight in the eyes.
"We can only hope."
As the days followed, Charlie's condition worsened. Soon, he slept for extravagant hours, ate much less, and even stopped playing his guitar. Everyone was worried about him. One night, Jack, Kate, Sayid and Locke met together as Charlie slept and devised a plan.
"He needs medical attention," Sayid whispered.
"I can't give him what he doesn't want," Jack whispered back.
"Why is he being so damn stubborn?" Kate said.
"Could be an effect of whatever it was is inside him now." All 4 glanced over at Charlie, who was sleeping quite peacefully. Boone sat by a nearby fire, roasting something. Marshmallows? Claire slept about 15 feet from Charlie, her cheeks rosy and oh so pinchable. She almost always looked happy. Everyone else was either asleep, or close to it.
"Here's the plan," Jack said, diverting the quartet's attention back to him. "I'm going to inject him with this mild sedative, just so he doesn't wake up while we're getting a better look at him. I'm not going to do anything tonight, I just want to make sure he's ok. You guys keep a watch and help bring him over here. Got it?" The three nodded. "Great. Let's get to work."
Locke and Sayid grabbed Charlie by his arms and legs and brought him back to the rock table. Kate prepared the needle and held the torch closer to Jack; who inserted the needle into Charlie's arm. Charlie twitched a little, but remained motionless. He wasn't waking up. They removed his shirt to get a closer look at the sores on him. A handful of them had enlarged about ½ the size they were when Charlie first came to Jack, now looking more like bumpy rashes.
"DEFINITELY not mosquitoes," Jack said. "Let's put him in this tent for observation." They carried him inside the makeshift shelter close to the cave's entrance. Two tarps draped over some tree branches held together with twine and wire. The group broke up and went to bed. Morning could not come soon enough.