Disclaimer: No matter how much I'd like to, I'll never own Lost or its characters or its beautifully crafted plotline...
Note: Written and takes place just after One of Them
"Hey, Charlie…think fast," Daphne said as she tossed Charlie the jar of peanut butter.
"How do you know about … you need to go. You shouldn't be near me. With the little one."
"But why not?"
"I'm not really supposed to be around him," Charlie admitted.
"But why, Charlie? This isn't making a lot of sense." Daphne was looking for answers.
"Because I lied to Claire, okay? Because I couldn't control myself. Because…"
"What happened?"
"It's a long story. Just forget it."
"No, I need to know," Daphne prodded.
"I was a sodding drug addict," Charlie admitted, stopping, supposing Daphne would look hurt or surprised. She kept on listening attentively. "Well, I gave it up. I threw my stash into a little crackling bonfire and was done with it." Daphne was elated. She seemed proud.
"Then, you see, there was another crashed plane in the jungle and…"
"Another plane? Were there other survivors or…"
"No. They were dead when we arrived."
"Oh."
"It was a little plane, only a few people along for the ride."
"Okay. Go on."
"So it turns out the plane was filled with a few hundred Virgin Mary statues."
"Okay. So what?"
"They were filled with heroin." Daphne's smile faded. "And Claire found out what was inside a statue I was carrying around. I was daft. I should've just destroyed them all when I had the chance. So, she got pretty cross with me when she found out what happened. And I tried to baptize the baby."
"What?"
"Long story. You don't really… bollocks… Claire!" Charlie stepped away from the baby.
"Excuse me, Daphne. I'm done talking to Jack. Could I see Aaron, please?" She handed the baby to Claire. Charlie had already walked off.
"Y'know, Charlie loves you." Claire was knocked for six.
"What did he tell you…" but Aaron began to wail. The cry was odd, different, not his usual, healthy cry that just meant he wanted something. Claire cradled the baby. Something was definitely wrong. He looked pale, ashen. He had lost all of his colour. Claire held her hand against his head. His temperature was running high. Claire began to worry.
"Oh my God… is he okay?" Daphne was genuinely concerned.
"I don't know. I think we should go talk to Libby. She can help us remember. She can help Aaron."
"What? I don't know if I…"
"I need to remember. We need to remember. This is important. I'm getting Kate. Let's go."
"May I join you?" Rousseau stepped from beneath the shadows. "I must find Alex. And I believe you can help." Claire was hesitant, but agreed. The three took off toward Kate's spot.