Whew, Chapter 3 is completed now. I should have Chapter 4 up tomorrow and so forth. Please R&R! Enjoy!

"What's in it for you," Charlie repeated, a quizzical look on his face. Why, he'd thought Sawyer would do it out of the… well, wait a second. Goodness of his heart? Shaking his head, the blond remembered how Sawyer never did anything (that he noticed) out of the goodness of his heart.

"Yeah, I ain't doin' nothin for free." Sawyer, the crown still on his head, picked up a nearby twig and began to poke the dead boar, turning it over onto his back. The boar's stomach appeared to be in tip top shape unlike the animal's back, and even had a glossy coat of unmatted fur.

"Whatta ya think happened to this here guy? Ya think the boars have a tourney cup each year to see who's the biggest and baddest of all em'," he asked playfully, giving the boar a solid kick in the rear. As soon as he did that however, the boar barely twitched, seeming like it fought the deathly grips of the afterlife.

Sawyer jumped back, gasping a little at the sudden movement from the animal and glared at it.

"What the hell was that? Did you see that Checkers," the southerner said, his eyes wild and frightened.

"What the hell was what? No, I didn't see it," Charlie said, glancing down at the boar one final time.

"It nearly came back to life. Damn, here I thought it was gone for good," Sawyer replied with a sly grin.

"...Are you seeing things? That boar can't come back to life." Giving the boar one hard stare before facing away from it, he furrowed his eyebrows and thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye. A tall, distant figure stood on the edge of his eyesight, and Charlie started to say something. However, what he thought could be an Other, was only a stream of blood dripping down his forehead. He bit his tongue in dismay, not recalling having scratched himself. Reaching up, he wiped the blood off of his face, opening his mouth to talk to Sawyer again.

"I can't think of anything to give to you man, couldn't you just help me anyway," he asked, the same desperate look Sawyer had seen minutes before reappearing.

"No, either you think of somethin' or I'm out," Sawyer said, stepping away from the boar. The boar hadn't moved again since Sawyer had touched it, almost as if it convulsed just for the sake of scaring him. It wasn't as if this hadn't occured before however, so it was no surprise to him at all. Still, the animal had twitched in such a way, that it couldn't have done it for any other reason than to freak him out of course.

"Alright..." Charlie said in a slightly depressed tone of voice, sighing softly to himself. If he couldn't think of an ultimatum for Sawyer, he probably wouldn't be able to construe a plan on his own. Feeling downtrodden from Sawyer's answer, he said his goodbye to Sawyer and the jungle. He needed to go and think alone anyway.

"Okay. I'm going back to camp, see ya later man," he said, waving halfheartedly at the other.

"Okie doke Checkers."

And with that, the blond walked back through the circle of trees they had come to, a shiver racing down his spine as he looked at the rotting spots on the trees again. The wind began to pick up when he found his way back to the path, causing his hair to lift up and down with it. He groaned, knowing that if the wind messed up his hair, there was no hope for it today. Trying to brush his hair back into its original style with his fingers, he trod quickly down the path and out of the jungle.

It was high noon when he made it back and one hell of a scorcher of a day it was. The sun, as high up in the sky as it could possibly get, pressed its hot rays onto anyone and everyone who was in its site. Unlike the jungle, on the beach there was literally no breeze at all and the air around felt extremely heavy with heat. The sand felt painfully warm under one's bare feet, daring one to tread on its hellish body for any more than a few seconds. Frowning even harder as he felt the familiar squish of the sand below him, Charlie found the same sandy dune he had slept on before and sat back down on it.

He blankly watched the waves splash onto the shore in front of him, his mind reconsidering the plan to seek revenge. He didn't even have a real plan as of yet, and wasn't even sure if he had the courage and heart of steel to go through with it. Sure Locke deserved something bad to happen to him in Charlie's mind, but he never thought of being Karma himself until earlier that day. If he did indeed choose to go through with it, what would happen afterwards? Would everything go on as normal or would something go array? What if someone found out and told Locke? Then, Claire would find out and Charlie would really be screwed.

Then again, hadn't Locke embarrassed and ridiculed him in front of nearly every damn person on the island last night? Hadn't he felt betrayed and worst of all like a stupid schoolboy? Locke never had to go on and punch him like that, he could have approached him privately. But he didn't, giving him not only physical damage but mental damage as well. Now whenever he went anywhere, he could sense everyone (even those who didn't witness the event) glaring at him, judging him as every second passed.

Groaning with utter confusion, he almost decided to back down on the plan, when he heard a voice. Not just any voice, Locke's voice. Turning around, he saw the bald man talking with Claire, gathering seashells by the ocean. Charlie ducked down, not wanting or needing either one of them to see him. Staying down low, no one could see him anyway, so he was safe.

"Charlie is in a bad place right now and it's a good thing you won't let him be around Aaron. It would be a horrible influence," Locke began, leaning over to pick up a seashell. He handed it to Claire with a smile, like he was handing her a wedding band.

Claire nodded to him, not saying anything in response, and cradled Aaron in her arms. The babe let out a giant wail all of the sudden, and Claire gave the baby to Locke.

Locke smiled again, this time at Aaron, and somehow ended up getting the baby to stop crying.

"Besides, Aaron needs people who care about him- not people who would only hurt him." Locke continued to hold the baby, reaching down to wiggle a playful finger in front of his face.

Charlie narrowed his eyes in disgust at this last comment, the anger that he had momentarily forgotten about returning full force. His heart immediately began to pound in his chest, pumping blood to his body like crazy now. Who did Locke think he was? Claire's new best friend? Punching a fist down hard into the sand, the blond suddenly stood up and began to run towards the jungle again.

Tears streamed down his face as he ran towards a familiar safe haven, covering the neckline of his T-shirt. He wept not out of sadness, but frustration, his legs pumping up and down fiercely in order to escape the scene. Reaching the outmost edge of the forest, Charlie stopped to catch his breath.

For some reason, whenever he tapped into his anger towards Locke, he felt the overwhelming need to go back to the jungle. It called to him like some sort of a sick, twisted desire. Continuing with his escape, he entered the forest, his face stained with dried tears. He found a random log to sit down on and sighed.

Cupping his hands in his face, he let the anger overpower his senses, causing his hands to spasm uncontrollably. He gritted together his teeth, the grinding sound momentarily blocking out the pounding of his heart. Digging his fingernails into his face, he replayed Locke punching him over and over again- until it was more than permanently ingrained in his mind. He stood up, giving the log a brutal kick before exiting the jungle once again.

Coming out of the trees, he made his decision. He was no longer confused about the issue, but crystal clear on what he needed to do.