Summary: Afterall, all that really mattered was that he had her back.
Characters: Boone, Claire, Locke, Charlie.
Boone watched silently as Claire wandered away from Charlie, a contemplative look on his eye. He hadn't approached her since he and Locke found her in the jungle several nights ago. He had felt guilt rising in him as the day wore on. She was supposed to be his friend, and he hadn't even checked on her and her baby since she mysteriously turned up in the jungle, a lost expression on her face. He still remembered the look in her eyes so clearly.
As Claire stumbled out of the bushes, Boone felt the odd sensation of joy and grief overcome him all at once. While Boone was exceedingly happy to see her, he was slightly afraid. Her hair was tangled, cuts and bruises marred her skin and she didn't have the slightest hint of recognition in her features.
He had dreamt of their reunion. How she would rush to her arms, how they would sob so hard over the joy of seeing one another again that they couldn't tell which tears were their own. This harsh reality was not what he expected, and he couldn't help but feel a sliver of disappointment.
"Claire?" he whispered, flinching when she turned her blank eyes to him.
"How do you know my name?" Claire gasped, backing away slowly. "Who are you people?" Boone glanced over at Locke uncertainly, who advanced on Claire gently.
"Just relax. We aren't going to hurt you," Locke insisted softly, a caring note in his words. But Claire seemed to be getting more agitated and her breathing came in short, laboured pants. Her eyes flickered from Locke, who was still edging her way, to Boone, and for a moment, her eyes held his, and he thought he saw a flicker of recognition, but the moment passed and her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she fell limply into Locke's arms.
It was dead silent in the clearing for a long minute, and Boone simply stared at Claire. He moved toward Locke and reached out to her, brushing her face tenderly.
"We should get her to Jack," Locke said, breaking Boone's trance. The younger man nodded mutely, retracting his hand so quickly Locke almost wasn't sure if it'd even been caressing Claire's face a moment earlier.
Boone sighed softly, his fist tightening around the wad of papers in his hand. They were the many letters he'd written to Claire during her disappearance. He couldn't help but stare as she settled herself down on her airline blanket and opened her diary to read over the events of the mere days she'd been stranded with them before being kidnapped. He wondered if she'd read about him, if she would seek him out.
"You should go speak to her."
Boone jumped slightly at the voice that startled him out of his thoughts. He glanced up swiftly and was surprised to see Charlie staring down at him. The smaller British man sat on the gritty ground beside him and glanced wistfully over at Claire, much in the same way as Boone had done moments before.
"Huh?" Boone grunted, confused at Charlie's matter-of-fact statement. The other man sighed and turned to Boone, a sharp look in his eye.
"I read her diary, the night you and Locke found her in the jungle. I know the two of you were...close. And I think she could use a friend right now," Charlie muttered, fiddling with the ratty jeans he was wearing and staring at his hands, not able to look Boone in the eye.
"W-why? She has you, doesn't she?" Boone questioned, confusion lacing his tone. He glanced over at Claire momentarily, who was hunched over her diary, scribbling away her thoughts, her golden locks falling in her face. When he glanced back at Charlie, the slightly older man seemed sad. It seemed to click at that moment, and Boone instantly wanted to take his last question back. Charlie had killed Ethan in front of Claire. Boone knew that Charlie was probably ashamed of his actions, even though on some level, Ethan dearly deserved it.
"I-I think it'd be best for everyone involved if Claire and I spent as little time together as possible. I'm not a good man, I don't deserve her," Charlie whispered, his voice tight with tension. Boone wanted to tell Charlie that he was wrong, the words were on the tip of his tongue, but deep down he knew it'd do no good. Charlie was in a deep funk, and Boone didn't know him well enough to snap him out of it. They simply shared a understanding glance, then Charlie tipped his head at Boone in thanks before scrambling to his feet and wandering back to his small area. Boone grimaced as he watched the musician walk away, unsure of what to do next. He glanced at Claire again, and was surprised to find her watching him intently. For a moment, he thought she was simply staring at him because he'd been with Charlie, but he quickly realised that she seemed to recognise him. Boone got up slowly and walked up to her, a small, shy smile on his lips.
"Hi Claire, I'm Boone Carlyle," he murmured, offering his hand.
And as Claire shook it, offering him some space beside her, Boone wondered if maybe Claire loosing her memory was such a bad thing. Afterall, all that really mattered was that he had her back. And he wasn't going to let anybody take that from him ever again.