Chapter 10
A/N Charlie and Claire… I give you fair warning… if you thought the end of last chapter was suspenseful, you're going to kill me at the end of this one.
Charlie was quietly woken by Sayid the next morning. If you could call it morning, it's still bloody pitch black out, Charlie thought moodily. As they left the sleeping group, Charlie looked around for Claire. She was nowhere to be seen. He felt a pang of sadness that he was leaving her without making up. He frowned in concentration. But it wasn't fair that she got so angry. He really was going to tell Claire about the mission. He wouldn't blow her off and leave her wondering, he cared too much about her. What kind of a guy did she think he was? Granted, he had read her diary, and it was a scummy thing to do, but he'd never lied about it. He'd told her outright that he'd read it. So why was she so pissed? As Sayid, Boone, Sawyer and Charlie began making their way through the underbrush, trying not to make the slightest noise, Charlie looked back once more at the group wistfully.
A couple of hours later, the sun had finally risen, though the forest was still shadowy and dim. Sayid stopped and pulled out the messenger bag he had been carrying. Charlie peered towards it, hoping it had food, but instead, Sayid took four sharp knives and handed one to each of them.
"What, no machine guns?" Sawyer said, amused. "How are we supposed to defend ourselves with these puny little bread knives?"
"These 'bread knives' could easily hack off your head, so I'd be careful." Sayid said menacingly.
"Oooooh." Sawyer said, mock afraid, holding up his hands protectively, but Charlie noticed he let it go. Very un-Sawyer.
"So," Boone said, looking ready to sit and lounge in a beach chair, "How much longer, exactly, until we get there?"
Sayid didn't answer, he just abruptly stopped walking. Slowly, he pointed in front of him. "Beyond that cluster of trees is Danielle's home. Now, listen. She is very unpredictable. I don't know how she will react. I will go first, and tell her that I've brought you along, and if she doesn't tell us what we need to know…"
"We'll hack off her head." Sawyer interrupted, amused.
"This is no laughing matter." Sayid said seriously. "Now, I'll come back for you when I'm ready. Wait here." And he strode forward without a backwards glance.
When Kate woke up, the first thing she did every morning was look up at the sky and gage what time it was. (She had lost her watch a couple of weeks ago.) This morning, the sun was still low in the sky; it was about six or six-thirty. She sat up and looked around. There was only one other person already awake: Claire. She looked as if she were about to cry, her eyebrows were knit together and she was biting her lip. Kate soundlessly got up and sat next to her.
"Hey, what's up?" she said softly.
Claire looked at her mournfully. "Charlie and I got in a fight yesterday. Or, rather, I got pissed at him. I feel guilty, but I still feel like it's his fault. I don't know how I can be feeling those two things at the same time."
Kate looked off into the trees. "Have you talked to him since?"
Claire shook her head, but she looked like she was holding back. Kate ignored it. It wasn't her business to know what went on between Claire and Charlie, so she wasn't going to ask.
Kate hesitated before saying anything else. Finally, she whispered, "I haven't talked to Jack." She sighed quietly. "Jack and I… haven't talked about anything… anything important in what seems like forever. It's not like he's giving me the silent treatment or something like that… it's more like he's reserved towards me. He doesn't trust me. Not after I –" she caught herself, looking sideways at Claire, who didn't say anything. "I just… I kind of betrayed him. And…" she kept on halting, searching for her words. "I'd give anything to take back what I did." She choked on her words, and tried not to show her emotion to Claire.
Claire nodded, and smiled slightly. "I'm sorry." The she gasped. "Oh my God!" she cried loudly, bending over, panic on her face.
Kate jumped up, alarmed. "What? What is it?"
"I think my water just broke!"
It had been over a half hour, and they were tired of waiting. Boone was leaning against a tree looking slightly anxious. Sawyer didn't give a damn about the whole thing. He didn't even really know why he came along, just for something to do, he guessed. He looked aimlessly at Charlie, who was glaring at a tree as if it had insulted his mother. Sawyer chuckled softly. Charlie looked at him.
"What's so funny?" he said grumpily.
"Why are we still standing here?" Sawyer said, throwing his arms up. "I'm hungry and tired, and I want to get this thing over with. What the hell's that terrorist doing with that French woman, is what I'd like to know. I think he might have the hots for her." He began walking in the direction Sayid had gone.
"What are you doing?" Boone said, getting up. "He said to wait for him to come back!" But Sawyer just turned and looked at him with a wide, mischievous grin, then kept walking. He heard Charlie call after him. "Hey, he said she was dangerous!" and he ignored that too. Dangerous, my ass.
When he stopped in front of a trapdoor that he assumed led to the French woman's house… hole… whatever, he noticed that Charlie and Boone were reluctantly following. "Look who's the leader now." He mused under his breath. Then he lifted up the trapdoor. He peered in, and was startled to see a bewildered woman looking straight back. Her expression quickly turned from confused to incredibly angry. She lunged up through the door, and screamed, "I said to come alone! I said to come alone!" Sayid was just as quickly out of the door, trying to grab at her and pull her back from Sawyer, who stumbled backwards in surprise.
"Danielle! Stop, listen to me!" Sayid shouted. But Danielle looked wildly about, still screaming at the newcomers, now in French. Sawyer had never seen someone so mad. Her face was red, her eyes glittering with malice. Her flyaway hair added to the "crazy" impression. She looks like a demon. Sawyer thought.
Sawyer watched her with fascination, as Sayid grabbed her elbows forcefully. He watched her flailing about, trying to hit Sayid, and managing to pull away. He watched her, seemingly in slow motion, reach down into the pocket of her khakis, raise a shiny black pistol, and pull the trigger. Then he watched Charlie double over and soundlessly fall to the ground.
