Author's note: As a general rule I don't post a new chapter until the next chapter is almost done, but I'm breaking that rule today. Mostly because this chapter is my favorite so far because it moves the story along and adds all sorts of new elements: insert dramatic music here. Thanks to everyone who left feedback. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter 9 Nightmares.

Every night it was the same. His weasel eyes burning fire and venom, his dark complexion no more than shadows. His voice like twisting metal. "If you tell, I'll kill her and the baby and make you watch." Throat closes, eye clouded with darkness, finally ending a lighting flash, ear splitting explosions. Charlie wakes up with a start, swallows the sour vomit that fills his mouth and burns his throat. He wiped the sweat from his brow and sighs as the stars fade in the sky and the darkness starts to lighten.

It's as good of time as any to go for a run.

He jogged along the shore line, the water pushing him, making him lose his balance and erasing his footprints along the way. He ran until his leg muscles started to ignite and headed back. Always cooling off, walking when he gets near the camp site. For two months he's been running. So far, he hasn't woken anyone up, and if he has, no one has said anything to him. He walked closer to Claire's makeshift tent, treading lightly. Aaron stirred, twisting and flopping, he was on the verge of crying. Charlie knew the signs well. He hesitated for a second, questioning if this would violate any newly formed trust between him and Claire. Aaron started to whimper a little, but stopped when he was safely resting against Charlie's chest.

Charlie ran through the check list of most common reasons babies cry, he came to one conclusion. "Sorry, Turnip Head, but if you're hungry there isn't a whole lot I'm going to be able to do about that."

The first morning light broke through the sky. Claire's eyes flickered for a second and in her sleepiest voice, Charlie's biggest weakness- after all she was unbearably cute, called to him, "Chahlie? Is everything ok?"

He wanted to backtrack, apologize, "I'm sorry, he's hungry and I really didn't want to wake you."

A sleepy smile crossed her face as she sat up. Her tank top strap had fallen, exposing more of her breast then Charlie was prepared to see. In one skillful and graceful motion the strap was back on her shoulder. "Here, give him to me, I'll feed him. What were you doing up?"

Charlie scratched at the back of his neck once the baby was safely in his mother's arms, "You know trying to find babies to kidnap."

She gave him a disapproving look, "Oh, I thought you might have had a nightmare and you went running since you were already up."

"Nope, baby napping." He smirked.

She started to lower her strap once more and Charlie turned away, hiding the urge to blush. She whispered, "Are you sweaty?"

"A little." He watched the sea.

"Why don't you go back to your tent, change and come back here." She offered.

He did as he was instructed. Sleepy Claire could control every aspect of his being without much argument. Once a fresh, or as fresh and he clothes could be, outfit was on he inched back to Claire.

"Is he all fed?" He whispered to her, but refused to peer into the tent.

"Uh huh." She called to him. He sat at the edge of the tent while she looked at him curiously. "Um, the baby and I have at least another hour and a half of sleeping still left, you wanna join us?"

His eyes widened at this unexpected change. The first night he had slept next to her it was three nights before Ethan took her. When she returned it wasn't until Aaron was born he had managed to finagle his way back in. But, after the heroin, incident he had given up all hope.

"Um, are you sure?"

"We're chilly, Chahlie, keep us warm." She said that with the sleep still in her eyes; the baby was yawning as he snuggled closer to his mother. Charlie nodded and took his place next to her. He lay there, stiffly, his arms tightly against his body while Claire rested Aaron on the center of his chest. The baby fit perfectly, he wrapped his left arm around the child as Claire lifted the right arm and pressed her body under his arm. His hand rifted down around her waist as her leg lifted across his. She yawned, "Much better."

Her hair tickled his neck and as much as he wanted to move, he was afraid it would break whatever spell she was under. Instead, he listened to the steady breaths of her and Aaron, their chest rising and falling in rhythm. Tiny, barely audible moans escaped her lips and Charlie wondered what she was dreaming about. His hand remained firmly planted on her waist, but she stirred and her shirt lifted. His fingers grazed across the warmth of her stomach. Suddenly Charlie had a whole new problem.

He thought about football, Beckham, who happened to be married to his favorite Spice Girl. Then he started to think about the Spice Girl, which didn't help matters. New train of thoughts: Space, Science, the moral dilemma of Cloning. It would be cool to have a clone. He could clone Claire with her soft blonde hair and warm skin. NO!

Margaret Thatcher, yeah, that was the keeper. For the rest of the time Charlie focused on Thatcher, and other things he found repulsive. He remained still, listening to their steady breathing until finally he was able to doze briefly. Motion on the beach finally broke slumber's grip on Claire. She nuzzled into Charlie's chest and a tiny moan left her lips.

"You're hard." She said in a sleepy voice.

In a rather high pitched Charlie's voice cracked, "What?"

Her eyes fluttered open, "Your chest, it's harder than before."

He swallowed, "Oh, yeah I've been working out, you know, house building and all that."

She moved her hand and stroked Aaron's back while she looked up at the man who blanketed her, "I forgot how nice it is to wake up with you."

Charlie pretended to be hurt, "How could you forget?"

She shook her head, "You're right, I didn't forget. I just blocked it out when I was mad at you." She looked around the tent, "It doesn't feel a big and empty now that you're here."

Charlie glowed the rest of the morning.

He pounced on Beth, "Hey, guess what?" He didn't give her a chance to guess, "I slept with Claire." She blinked a few times waiting for farther explanation, "Well, I mean it in the literal sense of the word, and I didn't really sleep as much as I sat very still thinking about Margaret Thatcher for an hour."

"Um, Ok?" Hesitation and confusion laced her voice.

"Oh, well Ms Thatcher is ugly so that's why I was thinking about her. Male anatomy stuff."

"Um, Ok." She said in the same tone as before.

"Look this is HUGE!" Charlie explained,

"I know, I get it!" Beth laughed.

Charlie starting thinking aloud, "If she wants me there every morning, there might be an issue that needs to be faced. It has been a VERY long time since I've had any, um contact with the female gender in a fun away. I guess my problem this morning with be reoccurring one." Beth giggled and Charlie shrugged, "Well, I guess I'm going to hell for killing Ethan, I might as well get hairy palms along the way."

Beth stopped in her tracks, her eyes wide, body stiff. "What?"

Charlie didn't look over at her, "Oh yeah, you might be confused about the nuances of Catholicism- they tell you that self love will send you to hell and a way everyone will know is the hairy palms, which is biologically impossible.." He stopped finally and glanced at her. She seemed to be frozen.

"Not that, you idiot, you killed Ethan?"

A new wave of horror struck Charlie, "You didn't know?" Beth had always seemed like she had known everything about him, about his fellow Oceanic travelers. He assumed she knew about that as well.

She shook her head, "I always thought it was Jack, or Sawyer or Locke, you know one of the alpha males." She stared off in his direction neither seeing him nor listening to him.

"Um, he took Claire. God knows what he did to her. He hung me from a tree, Jack says I was dead," Charlie tried to defend himself, he couldn't lose Beth, or Daniel or anyone else over someone as evil as Ethan. "He was a…"

"Very bad guy." Beth finished.

Charlie nodded and asked the unknown, unspoken question, "Did he live here with you guys?" It was a knowledge he shouldn't have had, no one had told him, secret and dangerous.

She shook her head, still in her own daze, "No, he was one of the Dark Ones." She blinked away the haze. "I'll tell you one thing; you just gained a ton of bonus points with Jo." Charlie didn't respond at first, he just kicked a stone off of the path they were walking on. A new revelation hit Beth as soon as Charlie made contact with the rock. "You had only been on the island for a few days when Claire went missing." She tried to put the pieces together, "You didn't even know her, not really, not like you know her now, when you shot Ethan."

Charlie turned to Beth with new fears in his mind, "Do you not want me near the children?" Maybe she thought he was irresponsible, a hazard, and a danger.

Beth's daze broke and a small smile formed, 'Charlie you killed a very bad man for a woman you had only known a few days, protecting her and her unborn child. Quite frankly, there is no one I would rather have around the children. At the very least I would know they are safe and well protected."

While Charlie didn't sigh out loud, he did feel an instant relief. "You know, Beth, if someone took you …"

"You'd kill him?" She offered.

He shook his head, "nah, but I'd beat his bloody arse." She smiled and nudged him in the shoulder. A squeal of delight broke out of the Education Building as Daniel pushed down the door. Charlie smiled as the boy jumped into his arms and was lifted onto his shoulders.

Beth tugged at Charlie's shirt and whispered into his ear, "Still, I'd be more careful, the Dark Ones aren't going to like you one bit."

Charlie's stomach dropped, knowing she was right. But unlike before, he had much more to lose.

Charlie emerged from the darkness of the jungle crimson. His knife , the one Jo had given him such a long time ago, became an extension of his body. His was covered in a red sticky fluid, the shone even in the darkness. Blood. It had soaked into his shirt, his hair and his pants. Rose screamed when she saw him, he glared at her and trudged towards the water.

Locke sprinted towards Charlie, "Are you ok?" The Brit appeared unharmed except he was covered in blood.

Charlie pointed behind him but his line of sight was still focused on the water, "There's a boar about a quarter of a mile back, you should go carve it up for dinner."

"But I thought all the boars had moved on?" Locke questioned trotting aside Charlie.

"Apparently not." For one second he stopped, glanced around, leaned in and whispered, "If you find anything unusual about the boar let me know."

Charlie pulled off his shirt and walked into the water, the waves crashed against his legs. The water turned into a pink foamy mess as the boars blood wash off his pants. He soaked his shirt, ringing out the excess water and blood. He heard his name screeched fused with an Australian accent. The ever growing pit in his stomach worked its way up his throat.

"Chahlie, what happened?" He had never seen the look of horror in her eyes before as it reflected back at him. Claire walked into the water but kept her distance.

He held up one finger, asking her to wait, he bent over and let a wave hit his head, rinsing the blood off his face. "Its no big deal, I was attacked by a boar."

"WHAT!" She stopped farther into the water.

He went back in for a second dunk, "Honest, no biggy I was walking alone, I heard a wrestle, I was knocked down. It was either me or the pig. I won." But his mood wasn't lightened by his retelling of the attack, no matter how much he down-played it.

She stepped deeper into the water; it crashed against her legs and up her thighs. It took him a second to really understand what she was looking at. He was soaked, with a combination of water, sea foam and blood, running down the side of his face, down his arms and ultimately getting swallowed by the ocean again. He has long lost his pasty English color and now had hues of tan infused into his pigment. His chest, each muscle lightly chiseled, not overly defined but, none the less, visual. Claire swallowed for a second, she had seen him so many different ways; fatherly, sweet, dangerous, cute lovable, but never sexual. She had been attracted to him because she thought he was safe, but now, he was something all together different, hunter, provider, ubber hot.

She collected her thoughts and took one more step before reaching out to him, "But you aren't hurt are you?"

He shook his head, "Nope, I'm fine." He took a step closer to her; a wave crashed against his body pushing him forward and brushing against her. The contact was brief but it made Claire flushed. In a low voice Charlie whispered, "I'm getting you wet."

Claire blushed and in a high squeaky voice, "What?"

Charlie motioned to the ocean, "The water and the waves, you're getting wet. Can you get me a change of clothes?"

Still blushing Claire nodded and walked back to shore. Charlie was still washing off when he heard mummers and comments from the beach.

"HOLY HANNAH!" Cried Libby.

"GREAT googlie mooglie" moaned Kate.

"Hot Damn." Anna Lucia touched her neck.

Suddenly Charlie felt self conscious and called out to Jack, who was walking his way.

Jack smiled at Charlie, "CHARLIE PACE, THE GREAT PROVIDER!" He walked into the water to talk to him.

"Um Jack, why are the women staring at me?"

Jack surveyed Charlie, cleared his throat and asked a fairly awkward question, "I mean this in the least gay way as possible. But um Charlie, when was the last time you saw yourself in the mirror?"

"Um, yesterday when I shaved?"

"Um, no, like a full body mirror?"

'Not since the crash. Why?"

"The island has been very kind to you." Jack turned away and headed towards the shore.

"But I smell like dead pig."

Jack shrugged, "Take a shower."

Claire came back with her child and Charlie's clothes in hand. Charlie walked out of the ocean, the water dripping off of him, creating a trail. They walked passed the women.

"Do you think Claire's tapping at ass? Because if she isn't, I will." Anna Lucia growled.

Charlie turned around and glared, "You know, we can hear you."

Anna Lucia winked, "I know."

Charlie's mood did not improve when they got to the hatch. Aaron was never comfortable around the hatch, everything was too unfamiliar, hard and unnatural to him and the alarm every 104 minutes didn't help matters. The baby clung to his mother as soon as they entered.

Sawyer, who was sitting with his feet up on the coffee table reading, only looked up when he heard Charlie complaining about his odor. "What happened to you, VH1?"

"He killed a boar." Claire answered.

"I thought they all moved on,"

"Apparently not." She continued as Charlie dug through the storage room for soap and shampoo.

"You know what you should do to help get that smell off of you? When I was a kid my dog, Goldie got sprayed by a skunk. He smelled almost as bad as you do. We washed him in tomato juice, I'm sure there's some in the storage room."

Charlie trudged out with cleaning supplies, grumbled and headed towards the shower. Before disappearing into bathroom, he caught Sawyer's eye and glanced back toward Claire who was tending to Aaron. Sawyer nodded, understanding the request, 'watch them, keep them save while I'm busy.'

Twenty minutes of uncomfortable tension between Claire and Sawyer, then Charlie came storming out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, 'YOU SON OF A BITCH! I'M ORANGE!"

Sawyer looked from his book, tried to suppress his smile and finally burst out laughing. The sight of an enraged Brit with day glow orange skin was too much. But it was the smell that was really too much. Now Charlie smelled like, pig, salt water, sulfur, and tomatoes soup. Sawyer started to shake his head, "I can't believe you listened to me."

Claire covered her face to avoid the smell and she smiled.

Charlie pointed to Sawyer, "YOU'RE CLEANING THE BATHROOM! There's tomato sauce EVERYWHERE."

"Maybe you should go down to the waterfall and lake." Claire offered, "I'll come with you."

"No!" Charlie said too quickly and then, slightly calmer, "No, you go back to the beach, Sawyer will take you, I'll stay in the hatch until he comes back." Charlie gave Sawyer the "don't screw this up look."

When Sawyer returned, Charlie was sitting on the couch clothed, still orange and pouting. Charlie stood up and started to leave with soup and shampoo in hand. He rubbed his neck with his free hand.

"Did they make it back ok?"

Sawyer shrugged, "Sure."

"Good. I don't want them alone."

"Is everything ok?" Charlie was acting far more protective then normal in Sawyer's opinion. But Charlie didn't answer and left the hatch.

Sawyer had finished three chapters in his book when the hatch door opened with a bang. He listened to the bantering between Kate and Jack. On any other day, this would have bothered him, but not today, nothing could kill his mood.

"I'm just saying I don't like the little bitch is all." Kate was the first to enter the living quarters of the hatch.

"That little bitch could snap you in half."

"Yeah well, she has no respect for boundaries, property or relationships." Kate huffed. "Can you believe she said that in front of Claire, I mean, seriously."

Jack shrugged, "What? You were ogling him, too."

"In my head, where no one else can hear me, Jack! There's a difference!" She pointed to her head as if that would make the point any clearer. She noticed Sawyer for the first time, "Hey, where's Charlie?"

Sawyer looked up from his book, "Oh, you're talking to me now, Freckles?"

She rolled her eyes, "Where is he? Hurley wants to start cooking dinner and thought it would be appropriate if Charlie helped picked out the seasonings or something."

Sawyer sighed, "Well, you see, some JACKass told him to take a shower with stinky ass sulfur water when he already smelled like dead boar." He glared at Jack and a small smirk formed on his face, "and someone else might have told him to wash off with Tomato sauce to rinse away the smell. It didn't work as well as he might have liked." Sawyer muttered under his breath.

"You turned him into an orange Limey?" Jack covered his smirk with a mask of disapproval.

A rare sound like a laugh left Sawyer's mouth, "Damn near the funniest thing I've ever saw."

Jack milled around the kitchen area as Kate walked into the storage area. She called out to Sawyer, "Where were you today? You disappeared for a few hours."

"You miss me, Freckles?" His smile grew ever so slightly.

"Not a chance in hell." She called back to him, her voice echoing.

"I was having white hot sex with an Other. Jealous?"

"Not in the least. No really, what were you doing?"

Sawyer's smile started to fade, "Same thing I do everyday."

She popped her head out of the closet for a second, "Try to take over the world?"

Jack muttered, "I was going to say masturbate." It wasn't long after that Jack felt the sensation of a corner of a book smash him against the head.

A fight would have broken out right then and there, but Locke entered the Hatch repeating Kate's question, "Where's Charlie?"

Sawyer finally answered the question, "He's at the waterfall rinsing off the putrid smell."

Locke frowned, "Oh, because I was hoping he could tell me about this." He held of a small section of raw material, dirty, worn. It was the color of brown and gray, battling for control on this one gross mixture of vine and rope. "I found it in the belly of the boar."

Sawyer glance up inched back, "Get that out of my face."

Locke walked over to Jack, as Sawyer muttered, "Gee, put it on the counter, it's not like anyone eats there."

"Jack, do you recognize it?" he waved the object in the doctor's face.

"Should I?"

Locke shrugged, "I don't know, but it was the only thing about the boar that seemed unusual and that's what Charlie asked me to look for."

Kate finally left the storage room with her arms filled with materials, "I don't even know why I came here. I'm a terrible cook. What the hell do I know about ingredients?" She dropped a barbeque sauce tube, ranch dressing and three pounds of salt on the counter. "Jack you figure some thing to…" She stopped as her eyes fell on the mysterious object. Her reactions were both physical and emotional as she shook. A small gasp drew attention to her.

"Kate, you ok?" Jack reached for her. She tore her eyes off of the rope.

"Don't you know what that is?" Her eyes watered and glazed as she searched his face for some recognition. She found none. She grabbed it and wave it inches form his eyes, "It's the rope they" she said with malice, "hung Charlie with. The rope that killed him. The rope I cut down." Jack studied the rope and shivered.

Sawyer's head turned to watch the interaction, "Locke, you think that's what Charlie was looking for? He did seem awfully jumpy today."

Locke shook his head, "I don't know, Charlie formed an alliance with the Others, didn't he? Why would they try to kill him?"

"What does this mean?" Jack questioned Locke. But everyone knew the answer. It was unspoken and yet lingered in the air, choking them. There was more then one group of "Others" on the island.

But Kate answered, "It means we aren't safe."

Sawyer stood, "We were never safe, Kate. It was just an illusion."

"DO you think Charlie knew?" Kate questioned Jack, but he refused to look at her. "Why wouldn't he tell us?" She whispered.

Sawyer sighed, "I'll get the guns."

"Guns are not the answer, James."

"No one else knows but us, and knowledge is power and power keeps us safe." Sawyer snapped. "We all get guns" He motioned with his fingers in a circle, "We know how to use them. Sayid and Echo too."

"But Echo's a priest." Jack questioned.

"Man wasn't born one, and Charlie he gets one too. Not Anna Lucia, she's a little to trigger happy for my taste. That and I don't like her." Sawyer finalized and created silence with his words.

The alarm shattered the silence, a constant reminder of their fate on this island.

It was dark. The stars danced in the sky and the oceanic native beach dwellers were pleased. Fresh meat was rare and relished. Charlie finally came back from the falls, smelling less rancid then before but still not too pleasant. Kate watched him from a distance, but found it hard to look at him and turned away to watch the water. Jack was standing by a fire, warming his hands and eating his dinner.

"Did you save me any?" Charlie smiled at Jack.

Jack's face was grave as he handed Charlie the rope. He was expecting more of a reaction, maybe not as dramatic as Kate's, but something. Charlie frowned and threw the remains of the rope and vine in the fire. Each fiber became a red snake leaving a black trial behind. The rope hissed as it was engulfed.

"Who else know about this?" Charlie's eyes stayed on the fire.

Me, Sawyer, Kate and Locke."

"Good, tell no one else." His voice was as dark as the sky.

"Aren't you going to tell Claire?" Jack questioned.

Charlie's face was stone, as he glared at Jack. His voice low, like gravel was stuck in his throat. "They'll kill her, Jack. They'll kill her and Aaron and make me watch."

There was a sharp intake of air from Jack. Originally he was pissed at Charlie, for withholding something as big as this from him. Charlie was putting everyone at risk for his ego. But now the burden seemed so clear and crushing Charlie chest.

"See Sawyer tomorrow for a gun." Jack instructed.

Charlie shook his head, "No, I spend too much time around children. Besides, it would be rude to bring a weapon into a friend's house. Keep an eye on Claire for me when I'm gone. Ok?"

Jack nodded, amazed at how much Charlie had grown up in the past few months.

"Chahlie?" Her voice rang over the sizzling fire, "I saved you some dinner."

He smiled, but it was shallow, and hiked towards her. "Do I smell less awful?"

She shook her head no and smiled at him. "No, but you look less orange."

"Great." He rubbed his head. Concern flooded Claire, but only let a little drip out onto her face.

"Chahlie, is everything ok?"

He nodded. He hated lying to her, but if it meant she was alive, he would gladly accept her being mad at him any day of the week.

She frowned at him, reaching for his arms. Her fingers ran down his arms and finally stopped entwining her fingers with his. "You're lying. You've been rubbing your neck since you came back." She stared at his neck, the red rope burn had long faded, only faint scars lingered, and only she could see them. She couldn't bear to look him in the eyes so she focused on his Adam's apple. "I can't imagine what horrors keep you up at night, what images wake you from your sleep. The weight of all your burdens makes it impossible for you to move and yet you hike four miles every day. You've done everything for me, and if you need to keep this secret, I'll understand." Now she looked into his eyes, "but tonight, I'm scared and I don't want to be alone." She rested her head against his chest, "you shouldn't be either."

He pulled her close, sniffing her hair, "Are you doing this so Anna Lucia doesn't sneak into my tent tonight?" His voice held a hint of laughter.

"Drat, you've seen through my evil plan. A girl's got to mark her territory some how." She snuggled into him. "Do you want to help me put Aaron to bed?"

He nodded but held her tighter for a second as he admitted a secret to her, "Claire, today was the second time I've killed on this island." She froze. Ethan was a topic they never spoke about. "You know what the difference was? I felt bad killing the pig." Charlie and Claire never spoke about that day ever again.