Characters: Charlie/Claire
Rating: T (for drug use)
Summary: All Charlie ever wanted was to be Claire's Hero.
Author: mortaldarkness
Disclaimer: See main page for LOST disclaimer; title taken from Wrabit's song, Unsung Hero. Lyrics are from the same song.
Unsung Hero
It wasn't that he hated Claire, he never could. He had brought little Aaron back to his mother, just like he promised. But he was hungry and fussing and Claire barely gave him a second glance. He thought she at least cared a little when she inspected his head wound, but once again the baby began fussing and she forgot about him.
The heroin was burning him; he stared at the porcelain face of the Virgin Mary and reached for the drugs, only to pull away quickly. But the smiling face of the Mother urged him to reach once more, telling him it was alright to take the drugs.
"And as we live our lives it's really nothing but a series of choices, isn't it?"
"Shut up." Charlie murmured, swatting the air beside his ear. He didn't need voices from his past making him feel guilty.
Warily, Charlie reached out his hand again for the drugs, encouraged by the smiling face and whispered "It's okay," of the Virgin.
"Just this once," he murmured, "I won't get addicted again." Just to be safe, he crossed himself muttering "Hail Mary, full of Grace…deliver me from evil…"
Charlie opened the baggie, and poured a small amount of the power into his palm; he tasted it on his tongue, feeling the familiar rush through his veins, god, how he missed this. And suddenly, the pain was gone: the pain of Lucy rejecting him, and later Claire, of all the time's he was bullied by his brother, Liam; the pain of everything just washed away. He held the baggie in his hands like it was as precious as gold; he stared lovingly at the Virgin Mother, glad he had at last found happiness.
"Charlie?" he jerked his head up suddenly, staring at Claire with half dazed eyes.
"'Ello Claire."
She took in the sight of the baggie filled with the brownish powder that he held reverently, the way he kept glancing lovingly at the head and smashed remains of the porcelain Mary.
"What is that, Charlie?" She had a feeling she didn't want to know.
"Nothin'."
I'm a drug addict—I-I mean I wasa drug addict. I'm clean now."
The words came to her suddenly, bidden by an unknown force; a shard of a forgotten memory.
She stared at Charlie, "Is—is that what I think it is Charlie? Are those drugs?"
"No." his reply was too quick, his glance away, the way he tried to hide the heroin he was holding in his hands.
Claire didn't need to ask twice.
"You told me you were clean Charlie! Were you just lying, trying to earn my trust and then take hits in secret when I wasn't around?"
"Claire, no—" he suddenly wasn't on a high.
She gave him no time to answer. "No Charlie. Not this time. I thought you were better than that!" turning on her heel, Claire left.
That was the last time he ever saw her.
Turning, his gaze came to rest upon Mary. She wasn't a loving mother. She was as cruel as Fate. She was the Devil. He picked up the head and threw it, watching in an enraged stupor as it fell and shattered into a hundred pieces.
He looked at the baggie; raising some of the powder to his lips, he took another hit…
All he ever wanted was to be noticed by Claire, to be her Hero.
…and another…
He should have known it would turn out this way. He was never noticed: he was nothing. "No one even knows who the sodding bass player is." Liam had been right. No one knew who he was. It just didn't matter what happened to him: the one person who would have cared once, was gone from his life forever.
…and another…
His greatest wish had been that Claire would hug him and kiss him when he brought Aaron back, that she would tell him that he, Charlie Pace, was her Hero. They would be the perfect family: happy and content-even on the damned Island-and…in love. He should have known that it was only a fool's hope.
…and one more…
Knowing that he was running out of time, he raised a shaky hand and scrawled hastily in the dirt: 'I love you, Claire.'
He closed his eyes and let his tears fall, crying over the loss of what should have been. He was a nobody and nobodies didn't get happy endings. He had only wanted to be Claire's Hero.
Suddenly, the jungle began to whisper, or at least from what the other survivors could tell, it was the jungle. They listened fearfully to the voices, making out vague words here and there.
'Sit in the silence of the shadows…not in it for glory…don't be afraid, remember I'm here…I will stay with eyes open, to watch over you…I'll keep you safe…unsung hero…'
The words seemed to be of a song, old and forgotten, though perhaps once known by some. It was like a harsh reality that shook them, as they realized what it was.
The Song of an Unsung Hero.
THE END