Tile: Capable 2/5
Original post date: 25th October 2005
Summary: Alone in the jungle after her confrontation with Charlie, Claire receives counsel from Locke.
Disclaimer: Lost isn't mine. Happy?

It was an unfamiliar part of the jungle Claire had found herself in, quite alone, sitting on a half-rotted log and willing herself not to cry. Claire felt disgusted at the way she was snivelling away like this when she should have been angry and raging about Charlie but all the same she couldn't quite help herself from doing it.

I trusted him!

The fact that she had trusted him, that she had been stupid enough to trust anyone again, even someone like Charlie – especially someone like Charlie – made Claire hate herself all over again. She had promised herself after Thomas that she would never let someone have her trust unless they had earned it. Not that Charlie hadn't gained it, promising to look after her, promising to look after Aaron, to get him back when Rousseau stole him away.

But he lied to me.

Furious with herself, Claire pushed the tears from her face angrily with the heel of her palm and tried to calm herself down only to leap to her feet a moment later when Locke ambled into the clearing eating a banana.

'You scared the hell out me!' Claire explained, self-consciously swiping at the remaining tears. Locke looked suitably apologetic as he tried to swallow a mouthful of banana.

'Sorry. What're you doing out here anyway?' Locke tromped towards her and Claire felt her arms fold instinctively over her belly. Locke glanced around and then his sharp green eyes went back to Claire's face. She knew he could see her swollen eyes, the salted tracks that had been made down her face. 'Where's Aaron? Is he with Charlie?'

Claire couldn't help it, she flinched, and Locke eyed her carefully. 'He do something to upset you?'

'You could say that,' Claire said stiffly, swinging her arms awkwardly.

Locke sat down on her log and patted the spot next to him. Claire gratefully sat down next to him. He took another mouthful of banana before continuing. 'So what did he do?'

Claire hesitated, wondering what to say. She had no idea what Locke's reaction to this might be. And so she blurted the first thing that came to mind in relation to the topic.

'You know the place where Boone got injured?' An odd, closed expression smothered Locke's face and Claire realised an instant later just how tactless she had just been and hurried on. 'When Charlie and Sayid went to get Aaron back they stopped there.'

Locke stared at her for a minute and then shut his eyes in an agony of mind, dropping his banana skin to the ground.

'Oh no,' he moaned, putting his hands over his face. He dragged his fingers down to rub his eyes then peered at Claire through them. 'Please tell me he didn't take one of the statues.'

Claire didn't answer, her face said it all. Locke rubbed his eyes again, wearily. 'Did he take any yet?'

Claire went suddenly still and Locke peered at her.

'Did you even ask him?'

'No.'

'Was the statue broken?'

'No.'

'He might not have had any yet,' Locke looked hopeful. 'He is a religious man...maybe he took it more for the statue than what was inside it?'

'He was a drug addict John,' Claire protested. 'Who's to say he didn't take it for the drugs? I mean, why else wouldn't he have told me about the statue – about him?'

'Maybe he was scared?' Locke mused.

'Scared of what?' Claire demanded.

'That you'd react exactly like this?' he suggested placidly.

Claire leapt to her feet, burning with anger. 'He lied to me John!'

'He didn't tell you something about himself which he believed would have a corrosive effect on your relationship,' Locke corrected her. 'And judging by your reaction, he was right not to tell you straight out.'

Claire gaped at him, not believing what she was hearing. 'What – why are you on his side?'

'Because you're acting like a petulant child.'

'What and he's not?' Claire all but shrieked. When Locke shrugged in a maddeningly sort of way she tried not to scream at him again, levelling her voice. 'I just don't see what he hoped to achieve by not telling me – I mean, he must have known I'd figure it out eventually so why couldn't he have just told me?'

She was crying again, hands balled into fists, face red with anger and Locke looked up at her and merely shrugged in answer. 'I don't know. Why don't you go and ask him?'