Title: The Other Con
Rating: PG/K+
Summary: Charlie goes undercover to rescue Jack, Kate and Sawyer but while in the Others' camp he discovers something he didn't expect.
Main characters: Charlie, Alex, Sawyer, Kate, Jack
Disclaimer: If I owned Lost, Charlie would be the star of every show. As you can see I do not own Lost.
Chapter One
Charlie was not having one of his better days. One would think that narrowly escaping a tunnel of fire and an angry household appliance on the run would rank as his worst day ever, but that day hadn't ended quite so badly. He had survived for one thing, and then Claire had kissed him. No, despite his brush with death, the day didn't end badly at all. Claire had been worried about him; she seemed to have forgiven his transgressions, though they didn't actually talk about it. Claire's change of heart had almost made the day worthwhile.
This day was worse. It began the morning after one of the best nights he'd had since crashing on this God forsaken island. Still basking in the afterglow, he bounced over to Claire's tent with a smile and came face to face with the words that no man ever wants to hear.
"Charlie, I think I made a mistake."
Charlie stopped in mid bounce, his sense of optimism for the day replaced with dread. Of course he may have misunderstood. She could have been talking about anything. Charlie decided it was best to stay calm and plead ignorance. "You what?"
Claire looked down at her fingers, interlocking and twisting them into pretzel shapes. "Last night, when I kissed you……I was just so relieved you hadn't been killed in the hatch. It was an impulse. I wasn't thinking it through. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong idea."
He fought to keep his expression nonchalant and his voice from climbing up an octave as he shifted instantly into self preservation mode. "Wrong idea?" he shrugged. "No, it was nothing. I had no expectations, Claire. Don't worry about it."
Claire looked relieved. "Are you sure? It's just that I'm getting to know Aaron a lot better now that I'm on my own and I really think I need more time to decide what I want."
Charlie started to laugh bitterly and quickly stifled it. Still, he couldn't help but snap, "To decide what you want? Right. So I'll just wait here then."
"You are angry," Claire observed.
Charlie shook his head and sighed. "I really had no right to expect anything, Claire. I don't know what I need to do to earn your forgiveness, but I guess it's not up to me, so there it is."
With a knot in his stomach, he quickly walked off before he said anything else he might regret. She was calling after him but he pretended not to hear her. Even a glutton for punishment needed a break once in a while.
The way Charlie saw it, he had two options. He could either put the whole unpleasant mess out of his mind, or he could wallow in it. Never being one to shy away from a challenge, Charlie chose the latter. If he was going to be miserable, he wasn't going to do it halfway. He got out his guitar and sat at the far end of the beach, playing every song in a minor key that he knew, the most depressing, gut wrenching songs he could think of. He would get it all out in a mind-blowing catharsis and then move on quickly from the fantasy that Claire had always been.
As he played he gave himself a mental flogging. It was his own fault for ever thinking they would be more than friends. Charlie may have put up some emotional barriers in his time but Claire was in a league of her own. The woman's heart was in a lockbox. He might have known, but he had an unfortunate tendency to see things the way he wanted to and not as they were.
His brooding and strumming were interrupted by a familiar voice coming from close behind him. "Dude, that sounds like music to slash your wrists to."
Charlie stopped playing and spun around. "Hurley!" He put the guitar down and stood, giving his friend a quick hug. "Are you alright, mate?"
He stepped back to give Hurley a quick visual inspection. Other than a bit tired, he seemed alright. Charlie recalled the state Hurley had been in when he had left two days prior to go across the island with Michael's group. He had been determined to help get Walt back and find some meaning in Libby's otherwise senseless death.
Hurley was clearly trying to put the right words together as he formed his response. "Well……something kind of……happened……out there. We got a problem."
As Hurley told his story, Charlie couldn't believe what he was hearing. Apparently Michael had been the one who had shot Ana-Lucia and Libby and allowed Henry to escape. He had then led Jack, Kate, Sawyer and Hurley into a trap. Michael got his son back and a boat to escape in. The Others took Jack, Kate and Sawyer captive and told Hurley to return to camp to tell the rest that they can never go back there again.
Charlie had so many questions he didn't know where to start. "What do they want with them?" was the most urgent one, although his imagination was already kicking into overdrive. He knew what the Others were capable of, he had experienced it first hand. They were inhuman.
He had never seen his friend so down. With a frown on Hurley's wide face, he looked like one of those sad clowns in oil paintings, a bit melodramatic and pathetic at the same time. "I don't know, man. It's all so messed up, and everything just keeps getting worse."
Charlie was reminded of his morning with Claire. It suddenly seemed so trivial compared to what Hurley had lost. "Yeah, I know what you mean. We need to figure out what to do……"
He trailed off and turned when he heard shouting from up the beach. Bernard and Locke were struggling to carry Desmond and Eko to a tent. Even from a distance both men seemed dazed and only semi-conscious. Charlie was a bit surprised. He thought they had both been fine when he had left the hatch himself yesterday, but then he was also a bit dazed and confused so maybe he had remembered it wrong.
"Aw crap, what now?" sighed Hurley.
"That's right, you weren't here" said Charlie, realizing that Hurley had missed the excitement on the beach while he was out having his own adventure. "Something happened in the hatch while you were gone."
Charlie quickly filled Hurley in as they rushed over to the site of the commotion. As they approached Charlie felt a renewed sense of anger at the sight of Locke, who had apparently emerged from the hatch completely unharmed. Charlie looked at Desmond and Eko and then thought of his own wounds—his scraped up arm, his ringing ears.
He frowned at the realization that Locke's foolish one-man crusade against the button had caused all of this harm--the chaos on the beach, the destruction of the hatch. Bad enough that he had risked the lives of everyone on the island to prove some point, but then Locke had the nerve to emerge unscathed like a drunk driver who leaves victims in his wake.
Locke was just setting Eko down and straightening up when Charlie went at him, shoving him backwards with two hands. "What the hell were you thinking?"
"I'm sorry," said Locke, regaining his balance and shrinking slightly despite his size. He normally towered over Charlie but he made no attempt to defend himself except to state, "I made a mistake."
"A mistake!" Charlie shouted, throwing Locke's words back at him. People were making a few too many mistakes around here, and Charlie was getting sick of finding himself on the business end of every one of them. He wasn't backing down from this one. "You were trying to satisfy your curiosity!" he accused. "Did you even think about everyone else? Now we've got people who are hurt and no doctor……"
"Jack's not back yet?" asked Locke, looking at Hurley for an explanation. Hurley told Locke what had happened while Charlie seethed, looking over at Desmond and Eko who appeared to be resting comfortably at least.
Locke listened carefully and responded, "I could go over there and try and get them back. I want to make up for what I did."
"How exactly do you plan to do that, just knock on their sodding door and ask? They've taken most of our guns and three of our people. This isn't wild boar you're hunting," Charlie reminded him.
Just then their argument was interrupted by Hurley, pointing towards the ocean. "Sayid's back." Charlie turned and saw Desmond's sailboat coming in towards the shore.
Chapter Two
Sayid felt the ocean breezes on his face as he spotted the familiar shoreline dotted with tents and bamboo shelters. He never thought he would be happy to see his camp again. He heard the word home in his head and surprised himself. He only wished he was returning with better news.
After sending the all-clear smoke signal, they waited all night on the boat for Jack's team to make contact. By morning, when no one had arrived, Sayid assumed something had gone wrong. His first sign of trouble had been when he had scouted the Others' camp only to find it abandoned, the empty huts standing like stage sets. It felt more than vacant; it felt phony, like an elaborate charade. Sayid got a sick feeling in his stomach and raced back to the boat where Jin and Sun were waiting. With no further sign of their friends by sunrise, they decided to return to camp, regroup and determine their next move.
The decision turned out to be the right one, since upon their return Sayid saw that Hurley had made it back on his own. He was relieved to see that at least Hurley was safe; and the young man had also been able to provide Sayid with the information he lacked about the fate of their missing companions.
He was not surprised to learn that his suspicions about Michael were correct. It may have been one mystery solved for the time being, but this was one instance in which he was terribly sorry to be right. Jack, Kate and Sawyer were led into a trap just as he had feared, and they had been unable to evade it. Now, newly assembled on the beach and joined by Hurley, Locke and Charlie, they were to decide what was to be done.
Sayid was not ready to admit defeat. The Others were formidable enemies but he had faced enemies before. All he could think of was how close they were to answers when they had Henry in their grasp. The thought gave him confidence that with the right strategy they could defeat these people. Hands on his hips, he threw out the first suggestion. "We should go back. We still have guns, we can't just give up."
Charlie agreed that Jack, Kate and Sawyer needed their help, but he seemed to be less sure of the best way to go about it. "Do you even know where they are?" he asked him.
"No," admitted Sayid, realizing with regret what little information they actually had about their enemies' motives and intent. The Iraqi turned to Locke, "With your tracking skills we can determine the direction in which they were taken. Hurley can show us where they were captured. We can start from there." Locke nodded in agreement.
"Oh great" grumbled Hurley, "I had so much fun the first time."
Charlie was still skeptical. "Going over there with another group armed to the teeth isn't going to work. We've done that twice now and failed both times. If you want to perform a rescue you need to have someone on the inside."
Sayid looked at Charlie, the faint scars on his neck still visible from his last encounter with the Others. Truthfully he knew Charlie was right, but Sayid had been the one who had encouraged Jack to take his party knowingly into Michael's trap, hoping to gain an advantage. Charlie's suggestion may have made sense strategically, but Sayid felt responsible for their capture. He would not risk losing another, even if they could find someone to volunteer for such a mission.
"If you're suggesting an undercover operation that takes training," answered Sayid. "We don't have anyone here with those kinds of skills."
Charlie squared his shoulders. "I could do it."
It was Sayid's turn to be skeptical, but as he glanced at his companions for their reactions to Charlie's proposal he saw that he was not alone. Charlie was met with dubious looks from all three men. Finally, Sayid said, "No, Charlie. It's too risky. We would only end up handing them another prisoner."
Charlie took a step closer to Sayid. He appeared to take Sayid's words as an insult and was emanating some deep seated anger. "You don't think I could do it," he accused.
It was Locke who spoke. If he was attempting to diffuse the situation Sayid thought he chose the wrong words. "Charlie, if you're thinking that going on some kind of suicide mission will impress Claire……"
Charlie spun around to face Locke, clenching his fists. "Save your psychoanalysis and sod off! Stop pretending like you know me!" He then turned back to Sayid. "If you won't me let go in by myself at least take me with you. I can't just wait around here and do nothing."
Sayid was reminded of Charlie's tendency to act impulsively. He was concerned it could compromise their mission, but he wasn't about to say that to Charlie. He didn't know what had happened while he was gone, but Charlie seemed as though he was under tremendous pressure and was just looking for a reason to explode.
He shook his head and tried to assume a neutral posture. "Charlie, any group larger than three people would attract attention. With everyone else gone, we need you here on the beach."
"Bollocks," spat Charlie. "You don't need me here. You just don't need me." Sayid watched helpless as his friend stormed off.
Chapter Three
Charlie built himself a campfire and sat near it that night, several meters away from the nearest settlement in the camp. He was reminded of the night after he had been cast out by everyone for taking Aaron from Claire, when he sat alone, cheek still throbbing from Jack's stitches. Put aside again, no one thought he was capable of anything. Sun was seeing to Desmond and Eko as best as she could but they needed their doctor back. More than that, Jack had saved Charlie's life and was the one person who hadn't turned his back on him. Charlie wanted to help Jack.
They had been tormented by the Others for long enough. Each time they had come into contact, the Others seemed to come away with the upper hand. Apart from one time, Charlie recalled with some satisfaction, the time he had killed Ethan. It was the only time they had managed to win a round, and although he knew it had to be done, again his friends had disagreed with him and he was treated as anything but a hero for doing it. Instead of giving him a pat on the back, people just seemed to give him an even wider berth. It was as if he scared them, like he could kill them next. They didn't have the slightest inkling of what he had been through. They would never know what it felt like to have a noose around their necks.
He knew he was right this time as well. This was going to have to be an inside job, and he was going to have to be the one to do it. He would leave at first light and head north to the 'line' and hope that someone from their group spots him. He'd pretend to be a disgruntled deserter of his camp, which the way he felt right now wasn't too far from the truth anyway, and gain their trust. Then, he would find where Jack, Kate and Sawyer were being held and set them free. He was going to win another round.
Charlie didn't doubt his ability to be convincing. Not only did he learn a few things participating in Sawyer's con, but he had pulled a few of his own during some desperate moments of his life that he wasn't too proud of. Finally he would be able to put his skills to good use. He could do this. It would be just like a con. Charlie packed his bag with food and water and prepared to set off as soon as the sun came up. In order for his plan to work, he needed to get to the Other's camp before Sayid's team did.
Hiking for hours, Charlie followed the trail from memory that they had taken to find Henry's balloon. He knew the Others were close by and that at some point he would cross "the line" Jack spoke of. He was anxious to stay ahead and unseen by Sayid's team, so he took as few breaks as possible, stopping only to refill his water bottle at a stream or to get his bearings. By late afternoon, he had passed the site of the hot air balloon and entered back into the thick, dense jungle.
He slowed his pace. It was more difficult to gauge his direction in here since the heavy tree cover blocked out most of the sun. He followed the closest thing resembling a path but was less sure of where he was headed. He wiped the sweat from his face. The air felt thick and soupy, and Charlie was struck by how quiet the jungle was. He felt a sense of heightened anticipation like he was on the verge of something. Then the tree directly behind him flew out of the ground.
He jumped and ran in what he thought was the opposite direction but instead found himself heading straight towards the black smoke monster. He skidded to a stop and pivoted, trying to run the other way, but everywhere he turned, the smoke appeared to be right in front of him. He was surrounded, encircled by a ring of black smoke that was coiling itself around him like a cobra. Charlie stood absolutely still like he had seen Eko do and tried not to panic. He didn't know how he had done it, but maybe he could survive it like Eko had.
Charlie closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. It reminded him of the time he had stepped on a beehive. He was scared to death, but didn't want to make any fast moves that would antagonize the smoke, if such a thing was possible. He heard a mechanical flipping noise that sounded to Charlie like a film projector or a camera shutter, and for a brief instant he thought it was going to go away, so he opened his eyes.
Suddenly the smoke circle dropped to the ground and tightened itself around his ankles. Charlie cried out in surprise as his feet were pulled out from under him and he smacked into the ground. He was dragged across the jungle floor on his stomach, careening backwards towards the crater where the large tree had been. As he screamed Charlie scrambled for anything he could get a hold of to stop himself, but every branch and rock just came away in his hands. His fingers were burning as the skin was torn away from the tips and his arms and his torso were raked with scratches. Charlie turned his head to look behind him and immediately wished he hadn't. He was almost to the hole. His screams grew louder as he frantically dug his bleeding fingers into the dirt. Then he went over, handfuls of earth spraying his face.
The last thing he remembered was being pulled straight down into a never ending pit of darkness. Just as it was when flight 815 had crashed, he never felt a landing.
He was lying down, that much he could tell, but his position felt……unnatural. He was flat on his back, but both his arms were up above his head. He tried to pull them down but couldn't, there was some kind of strap around his wrists. The restraints were actually somewhat of a relief because after what had happened Charlie was sure he was dead. He wouldn't be tied up if he was dead. He moved his fingers and felt bandages around several tips. He opened his eyes in increments, allowing himself time to adjust to the harsh artificial lighting. He looked at his elbow and saw a fresh dressing over his wound from the dynamite explosion in the hatch. He peered down at his feet and that was when he realized that he was tied to a cot.
Charlie looked around to the extent he was able in his compromising position. He was in a small cell-like room with grey painted walls; it was empty apart from a metal chair next to his cot. The door had a slot in it for a tray and a small square of wired safety glass near the top. It reminded Charlie of the kind of door on the cells of institutions for criminals or the insane. Charlie wondered which one he was as he considered the possibility that attempting this mission alone may have been a mistake.
Just as he was about to start yelling to see if there was anybody outside the door, it opened and a woman entered. She was tall, thin and didn't walk so much as glide, gracefully like a dancer, over to the chair. She had large round eyes and cocoa skin. Her hair was hiding under a kerchief and her clothes had seen better days.
"Hello Charlie," she began as she sat, crossing her legs and leaning forward. The respective positions they were in made Charlie feel like he was on a psychiatrist's couch. "I'm Miss Klugh."
Well, I suppose introductions are unnecessary then. Of course she would know my name, he realized, she probably knew Ethan. Then he remembered the black smoke in the jungle. "What was that thing that brought me here?" he asked.
"You triggered the security system, but I assume you were across the island in the first place because you were looking for us. Maybe you were looking for your friends?" she speculated. "Why don't you tell me why you're here?"
"I came to help you," Charlie answered without missing a beat, "to warn you about a rescue party that's coming for your prisoners. Sayid, Locke and Hurley. They're on their way here with more weapons to get Jack, Kate and Sawyer back."
Klugh pursed her lips and smirked. "How do we know they didn't send you?"
Charlie looked her in the eye. Although he could have lied easily, his words were the truth. "No one knows I'm here. I left on my own."
"Why?" she asked.
Charlie felt the genuine bitterness in his voice as he spoke the lines he had planned to say, "I wasn't good enough for their rescue mission. I'm sick of the way they treat me, like some kid they pat on the head and order around. There are a few people over there making decisions for everybody. Two days ago they nearly got everyone killed. No one there will listen to me. I've had enough."
Klugh was unmoved by Charlie's outpouring. "Even if that were true," she asked, "why would you come to us? Are you trying to get back at them?"
Charlie shook his head then paused as if he were making a particularly uncomfortable admission. He turned slightly towards the wall. "That's the embarrassing part. The truth is I wouldn't last on this island five minutes on my own. I mean, you saw that, look at how I got here. Not exactly James Bond, am I? Anyway, I couldn't stay there, but I can't hunt, I can't make a shelter, I need a group. So I came looking for you. I reckoned if you took me in, I'd give you all the help you want."
Klugh just stared. She seemed to be trying to access Charlie's thoughts, but his expression was unreadable. Sure he was no James Bond, but he'd make a hell of an insurance salesman.
When she didn't respond Charlie pressed a bit more. "Look. I don't know what work you're doing here, but whatever it is you've gone through an awful lot to protect it with the costumes and the security system so it must be pretty important, right? If I'm going to be on this island for the rest of my sodding life I need to find something to do that matters."
"What about Claire?" she asked.
Charlie frowned at the sound of her name. He was hoping she wasn't going to bring Claire up. "I did some things I'm not proud of. Claire's never going to forgive me, she told me so yesterday. There'll never be anything between us, I know that now. That was the other reason I left. I can't face her."
Klugh sat back after taking everything in. Charlie waited, thinking he was convincing her but not entirely sure. "How do I know we can trust you?" she wondered.
"I don't know," answered Charlie, "put me on some kind of probationary period. Let me prove myself to you. I assume you've already checked and you know I wasn't armed. If you send your spies out into the jungle you'll see Sayid's team on the way. I'll tell you anything else you want to know. I'm telling you the truth."
Klugh leaned forward again. "And what about your missing friends?"
Charlie kept his expression flat. "All I want to know is that they're safe and that you're not hurting them. I don't want anything bad to happen to anybody. I just had to get away from there."
Klugh rose from her chair, concluding the interrogation. "Wait here," she instructed.
Charlie pulled against the restraints again and laughed, "I'm not going anywhere, love."
Chapter Four
Alex waited out in the hallway with Pickett and Tom. The three were silent but the atmosphere felt heavy. She was leaning against the wall, drumming her fingers on her leg, anxious for Klugh to finish her interrogation. She couldn't for the life of her figure out why Charlie had come to them. He wasn't much of a rescue hero unarmed and alone like he was, so that couldn't be it. Maybe he just stumbled in here by accident. If that was the case, she wondered whether they would simply let him go.
She straightened up quickly when the door opened and Klugh re-emerged. The first one spoken to was Tom. "Tom, I need you to check with our people on the surface. See if they've spotted a group of plane people crossing the island and heading our way" ordered Klugh.
After Tom left, Klugh relayed to Alex and Pickett what Charlie had said; how he had claimed to have deserted his camp and came looking for refuge, offering his services in return, such as they were.
Pickett got right to the heart of the matter as he always did. "So, is he telling the truth?"
"I'm not sure" said Klugh, "but if he is he could be valuable to us. We are shorthanded and he could be our link to the plane people. It may be worth taking the risk, as long as we keep a close watch on him."
Alex took Charlie's story and turned it over in her mind. "If his story checks out and there is a group coming, he must be telling the truth. Why would they send a spy ahead if they're coming with a rescue party?"
"Maybe they're working together. He could be gathering information to help them from the inside," Pickett suggested.
Alex turned to her older colleague, realizing immediately that didn't make sense. "If they were working together he wouldn't have told us about them, would he? He would have pretended to be alone. Telling us about them accomplishes nothing."
"Except to earn our trust," Klugh pointed out "and that may be his main objective."
As Alex was considering her words, Tom returned with his report. "We spotted a group of three: Sayid, Hurley and Locke. They're armed and headed this way."
Alex knew with their underground location, Sayid's group would never find them. The security system might take a lone individual prisoner but would quickly disperse more threatening larger parties. Sayid's group wasn't necessarily a threat, but the information was revealing nonetheless.
"So he was right" Alex observed.
"Yes, it would appear so" said Klugh. "Alright, for now we let him stay. Alex, I want you to supervise him. Assign him a bunk in the barracks. Find him a job in the research labs and don't let him out of your sight. You are to report directly to me every day. I want to know everything you talk about, particularly the questions he asks. After one week we'll decide if he can be trusted. I'll have the guard release him to you."
"Yes, ma'am," said Alex, in as mature a tone as she could muster. She knew she was being handed a big responsibility. They would determine Charlie's fate entirely on her word.
After Charlie was released from the cell, Alex took him on a tour of the barracks and the dining hall. He didn't say much at first, just nodded and took everything in. He was given the opportunity to rest and have a meal before reporting to work the next day. The barracks were separated by seniority and Charlie would be sharing the dormitory style room with Alex and two other young people, the lowest ones on the totem pole.
The next morning after breakfast, Alex escorted Charlie to one of the labs. They needed research assistants, but Charlie would start out as a glorified mail boy, delivering lab samples and reports from one department to another, until Alex felt he was ready for more responsibility. The job also gave him the opportunity to learn his way around the vast network of underground tunnels, accompanied by Alex at all times. As he made his deliveries she would point out certain areas and answer his questions, which for all his reticence of the day before, now seemed to be never ending.
"So what exactly is it that you do here?" was one of the first.
Alex answered his question carefully, realizing it would be some time before they were willing to reveal everything. "We began by performing experiments in life extension with the support of a private foundation, trying to extend life beyond the normal expectancy. We started with animal experiments and for a while it was successful. Then there was an……incident."
"What was it?" Charlie asked. She seemed to have his full attention.
The painful memory tugged at her heart as she spoke, "One of the animals, a primate we were experimenting with, was infected with a virus. When the primate was injected with DNA designed to boost its immune system, the virus mutated. Then there was an outbreak, and it began to spread to humans. We didn't recognize it at first. The symptoms were different than they appeared in the primate. It began with changes in behaviour, some so subtle you could write it off as something else. Then all of a sudden someone would just snap and act totally out of character. People started dying. So we shifted our focus from life extension to finding a cure for the sickness. We've had good results with our animals. We've developed several experimental vaccines, and we've started testing them on humans."
At this point Alex stopped, deciding she had told him all he needed to know at this point. They continued on in silence; Alex assumed Charlie was taking the information in. In the meantime, they had arrived at their destination and she waited while Charlie delivered blood samples to the technician on staff and reappeared with an armful of reports. They resumed their conversation while they walked to the zoology lab.
"Did you know Ethan?" he asked her, changing the subject as they walked the corridor. Alex could tell by his tone that the question was particularly important to him, and she wondered if that had been the reason for his silence.
"Yes," she answered, remembering the man who was like a big brother to her. "He was our head researcher and chief physician."
Charlie appeared stoic, as if he was trying to keep his emotions in check, bracing himself for her response. "Why did he want Claire?"
Alex knew all about the botched abduction. She hoped she could make Charlie understand. "Ethan was trying to inoculate Claire's baby with a new test vaccine to protect it from the sickness. He wanted to help her, but what we didn't know at the time was that Ethan was also infected. We only found out after Claire was brought to the medical facility what he had done to the both of you. That's what the virus does, Charlie. It causes psychotic behaviour. Ethan was never supposed to hurt you or Claire. He was sick."
Charlie was expressionless. Alex couldn't tell what was going through his mind but the information had to be shocking to him. Finally he stopped walking and turned to her as he spoke, "Do you know that it was me that killed him?"
Alex carefully put a hand on his arm. She wanted him to know that they were not angry at him for what he did. "Yes, I know. We understand that you did what you had to. The virus made him dangerous. We've had others fall victim and we've been forced to do the same. But he was our head researcher and it was a loss. It set us back in our work to find a cure. I knew Ethan before the sickness claimed him and he was a good person. I'm sorry for what he did to you and Claire but I do miss him."
Charlie looked down, his façade cracking. He was clearly moved by her story. "Yeah, I'm sorry too. I didn't know. To us he was just some madman who hung me from a tree. We were just trying to defend ourselves."
Alex nodded. "We've lost several researchers to the sickness and we really are short-handed here. We could use your help if you're serious about wanting to stay. Finding a cure will ultimately help everyone on the island." She looked into his eyes, desperately trying to see through to his soul, wanting to believe him. "Did you mean what you said? Are you really here to help us?"
Charlie didn't even flinch. "Yes. I just need to know one thing."
"What's that?" asked Alex.
"Just promise me that my friends that are here are not being hurt."
"I promise you they're not" she said.
A week had gone by, during which time Alex had reported daily to Klugh as instructed. In that time she had gotten to know Charlie—he was kind, attentive and she was convinced he was sincere. His questions centered mostly on what it was they were doing there, curiosity of the expected kind. He never asked questions of a more sensitive nature, like where his friends were being held or if they had any weapons. His inquisitiveness seemed reasonable and harmless.
"I believe he can be trusted," reported Alex. "He's made no attempt to sneak off or investigate any area he's not supposed to. He hasn't asked about his friends other than to know that they're alright. Most of his questions have to do with Ethan. He wants to understand what happened. I explained to him about the sickness."
Klugh listened and asked for Alex's recommendation. "So would you say he's ready to begin working in the lab?"
Alex stood up straight. She wished to appear confident, and she prayed that she was right. "Yes, I would."
Chapter Five
After a week Charlie was moved up from making deliveries to working in one of the research labs. He was given a white lab coat and taught how to observe treated blood and tissue samples through a microscope and record changes. The work was interesting, and his superiors were patient and treated him with respect. They relied upon the information he was gathering and for the first time since arriving on the island, Charlie felt like he was doing something important. He bounded out of bed each morning, eager to get to work.
Alex worked in the same lab and often they performed their tasks side by side, talking about all sorts of things to pass the time and get to know one another, from their weirdest dreams to their favourite foods.
"So, where is home for you?" Charlie asked her one day while he made notes, sitting next to her at a long lab table.
Alex spoke as she combined liquid samples into test tubes. "You're looking at it. I've never lived anywhere else."
Charlie was confused. No one came from the island. "Well you had to come from somewhere." He smiled, jostling her elbow teasingly. "You weren't born in a test tube were you?"
She laughed. "No, but I've been here for as long as I can remember. I don't know who my parents were. I was raised here, by everyone. We're like a family."
Charlie thought of his own family, or his brother Liam at least, who in all likelihood had already given him up for dead and moved on with his wife and young daughter. He had tried to find himself a family on the island with Claire and Aaron, but that hadn't turned out like he had hoped. He felt a bit envious that Alex had her family here.
"So where's your home?" she asked, tossing her brown hair back from her shoulder.
Charlie had to think about it. "Well, I grew up in England, my brother lives in Australia, I was moving to Los Angeles when I got on the plane. I guess I don't really have one" he admitted.
Alex smiled as she stated proudly, "Well, now you do."
Could this really be home, he wondered. The living conditions certainly beat the beach any day. Clean clothes, a real bed, real cooked food and for the first time in a long time, he felt safe. He never thought he would say it but the place could be a home, and the people like family. "Yeah," he said, surprised at the realization. "I guess so."
By the end of the second week Charlie was beginning to believe he misjudged these people he once called 'the Others'. Yet despite his fresh doubts he couldn't help wonder why his friends had been taken, why they were being held against their will. If the intentions of these people were pure, their actions didn't make sense. He still had not seen Jack, Kate or Sawyer anywhere. He could only assume they were in the same compound though he didn't know for sure. Charlie wondered how he could determine where they were being held without arousing suspicion.
During the third week, Charlie made a startling discovery while working. There was an unexpected change in a cluster of cells he had been observing that had been exposed to one of their new test vaccines. Charlie was lucky he spotted it; the change was subtle but it was there.
He had been chatting with Alex about what kinds of things they did for fun and wishing he had brought his guitar with him so he could play for her, when he suddenly stopped. "Hey, Alex, take a look at this."
She leaned over and peered into the microscope. "Charlie I think you found something. This may be the one."
Excited, Alex called the supervisor over to double-check Charlie's findings. A tall, mature woman with glasses and short blond hair, she looked at each slide in the sample. Finally, she said, "I think we may have a viable vaccine here. Great work Charlie, I'll get this one ready for testing on our subjects."
He appreciated the praise. Even Alex beamed with pride. Only when he came down from his elation did he begin to wonder who the subjects were that the supervisor had spoken of.
The next morning Charlie reported to the lab for work as usual and was met by his supervisor. "Congratulations, Charlie. You're being assigned to the examination room today. Since you were the one that discovered the vaccine I thought you'd like to see it through the testing phase. Consider it an honour."
Charlie smiled. "I do. Thanks."
It was the first time he would be working without Alex. Charlie was directed to the exam room down the hall. As he approached the closed door he heard the deep, guttural sounds of someone struggling and cursing. At first he thought he had been sent to the wrong room. He cracked opened the door and cautiously looked inside.
The test subject was lying on a table, blocked from Charlie's view by two men in lab coats who were holding him down. They were too preoccupied to react to his intrusion so Charlie came closer to see if he could assist. As he did, the subject, still fighting against restraints, turned his head towards him. It was Sawyer, and he froze instantly with a look of shock at the sight of Charlie in a lab coat.
"Charlie!" said Sawyer, "What the hell are you doing here, kid?"
Charlie glanced at the men, the physician and his assistant, who were now staring at him, waiting along with Sawyer for his response. Anxious not to blow his cover, he kept his expression even and unemotional. "I work here now," said Charlie. Then, turning to the men, he told them, "I was sent down from the lab to monitor the test."
Sawyer just stared back, speechless. Charlie wondered what he was thinking, but he resisted returning his gaze. If there was any way to get a message to him Charlie would have done, but he couldn't risk it with others in the room. So for now Sawyer was just going to have to think Charlie was a traitor. It couldn't be helped.
Charlie observed as the physician reached for a syringe and injected Sawyer's arm. The anesthesia worked fast; within seconds he stopped struggling and closed his eyes. Next he was injected with two substances, one of which Charlie presumed was the test vaccine, the vial resembling others he'd seen in the lab. Two small tubes were filled with blood from Sawyer's arm. Finally, a small scraping of skin was collected and placed in a vial.
"What's that for?" Charlie asked. He had been careful to not ask too many questions but by the end his curiosity won out.
The physician looked up, "We keep a bank of DNA samples for testing purposes. We're a small group here. Anytime we get an opportunity to get a fresh supply we take advantage of it." He removed his gloves, "I'm all done here. I have to get these samples up to the lab. The subject can be taken back to his room now."
Charlie saw his opportunity. "I'm not due back at the lab today, I could help with that."
The physician nodded, indicating to both Charlie and the assistant. "Okay, you two go. The guard has the key card."
"Right," said Charlie, as casually as he could. Inside he was jumping. He was finally going to see where his friends were being held. Eventually he was going to have to decide what to do about it.
The physician's assistant led the way as they wheeled an unconscious Sawyer down the hall. It didn't look like what they were doing was too bad, although Charlie kept wondering what that first injection had contained--the virus, most likely. If the vaccine failed Sawyer could contract the virus. The vaccine was important, but performing tests on people without their consent was still wrong. They didn't deserve to be locked up and used like lab rats, no matter how important their work was.
They arrived in an area of the compound that at first Charlie thought he had never seen. Then as they entered the corridor he realized it looked familiar. It was lined with doors that looked like the one on his cell when he had first arrived. He wondered now if he hadn't been next door to his friends that day and didn't even know it.
There was a single guard standing outside, who looked as bored as those security guards you see in banks and shopping malls. Charlie noticed for the first time that the assistant had an ID badge with a level of clearance on it coded in orange. He showed his badge to the guard and the guard took a card out from his shirt pocket and turned to the nearest door. He swiped the card and the door opened. They wheeled Sawyer inside. Charlie glanced around quickly. He recognized the room as identical to the one he had been in. He helped as they lifted a limp Sawyer from the table and laid him onto the cot. Then they left.
"He should sleep like a baby for a few hours at least. Thanks for your help," said the assistant, smiling.
"No problem," Charlie responded.
They walked back to the exam room where the physician was waiting. He directed the two to tidy the room up and left. Charlie put the instruments in a solution to sanitize them. The assistant put away the gloves and bottles of medication. Charlie began to clear the remaining instruments from the tray when he noticed a pre-filled, capped syringe on the table identical to the one that put Sawyer to sleep. Charlie glanced over his shoulder and noticed the assistant was occupied in the far corner of the room. Quickly he palmed the syringe and slipped it into the pocket of his lab coat.
Chapter Six
Sawyer woke with a growl and immediately grabbed for his head. He had a king- sized headache. Then he opened his eyes and saw the bandage on the inside of his arm and remembered what had happened. Some kind of test—and Charlie, he remembered Charlie……in a lab coat? At first he had thought the guy just looked like the little rock star, but Sawyer had spoken to him and he had answered. It was him alright. He said he worked here, and he was sent to monitor the test. What the hell did that mean? Chucky didn't seem to mind it neither. Sawyer wasn't getting any 'rescue me' vibe from him, and the others acted like he belonged there. He had to tell Jack about this.
Sawyer swung his legs over the cot and went to stand, but was struck back down by dizziness. Whoa there, cowboy, take it slow, he told himself. Whatever they gave him to put him under packed a punch. He didn't remember a thing after the needle penetrated his skin. Sawyer guessed he wasn't being cooperative enough for whatever it was they were trying to do. Good. If he couldn't stop them, then the least he could do was give them a hard time. He sat up on the edge of the cot for a few minutes, pulled a few deep breaths and waited for the room to stop spinning. Then he made his way over to the air vent at the base of the opposite wall.
It was shortly after they were imprisoned there that Sawyer figured out that his cell shared a wall with Jack's cell and that Kate shared a wall with Jack. Although they didn't risk it too often, they began communicating through the air vent. It was used mostly by the good doctor who would make periodic verbal house calls, asking if Sawyer and Kate were alright. This time it would be Sawyer's turn to place the call. This was news he had to share.
He sat on the floor and tapped at the vent, then called in a low voice. "Jack. Hey Jack, you in there?"
Sawyer waited. Then he heard a shuffling sound followed by a voice, "Yeah, Sawyer. Everything okay?"
Sawyer rolled his eyes. Why did he always have to act like he gave a damn? Then he realized it must be driving Jack crazy to be locked up and not have the power to fix everything. "They took me to some operating room for some kind of test. Anyway, while I was there you'll never guess who I saw."
"I'm not playing games, Sawyer, who did you see?"
Good, Sawyer liked Saint Jack better when he was annoyed. "Guitar hero. The British invasion."
"What? Cut the crap Sawyer, what are you talking about?"
Sawyer smirked. Pissing him off was almost too easy. "I'm telling you, Charlie's here. He wasin the room with me."
There was a pause. Sawyer pictured Jack's head exploding. Then the Doc spoke again, "Did they take him too? Is he captive?"
"I don't think so Jacko, he seemed right at home to me. Had a lab coat on and everything. He told me he worked here now. So what do you think that's about?"
Jack suddenly sounded weary. "I don't know. Maybe he's just pretending but he's really here to rescue us."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Sawyer countered, "last I checked he had the whole damn camp on his hit list for what went down on the beach with old Mr. Locke. Boy carries a grudge like you've never seen. Maybe he's turned on us."
"No," said Jack firmly. "I don't believe it. Charlie wouldn't do that."
"May I remind you, you said the same thing about Mikey once upon a time, and look where we ended up?" Sawyer knew he had Jack thinking about that one. The truth was, Sawyer didn't really know what to think about Charlie, but after Michael's betrayal, anything was possible.
Jack was still holding onto his bright, shiny optimism. "Michael was trying to get his son back. After what Ethan did to Charlie, why would he help these people under any circumstances? No, I have to believe that Charlie's here to help us, at least until we have reason to think otherwise. If you see him again, try and talk to him."
"You got it." Then he added, "And Doc?"
"Yeah?"
Sawyer sighed, "I hope I'm wrong."
Chapter Seven
Charlie opened his eyes in the darkness and checked the small clock on the nightstand. Three a.m. Everyone was asleep. He looked across the room and could just make out the shadow of Alex's sleeping form. She was just a kid. The Others didn't turn out to be what he had expected at all.
He had already decided to do this, but that didn't mean it was an easy decision. He liked Alex and he liked his work, but he also wanted to help his friends. If he could manage to do it without getting caught, maybe he could even have it all, though he knew the chances of that happening were slim.
Carefully, he slipped out from between the sheets and crept to his lab coat that hung on a hook in his wardrobe. Keeping his eyes on the others in the room, he reached inside the pocket and removed the syringe. Then, he tiptoed to the door and opened it just enough to slip through the crack, blocking as much of the light in the hallway as he could to keep from waking anyone.
Once he was safely out in the empty corridor, he made his way back in the direction of the cells, recalling from memory the twists and turns of the hallways. He tried not to look like he was sneaking, but walked with confidence, as if he were headed somewhere important and working an ordinary night shift. Luckily he didn't pass anyone on the way, so he wasn't faced with answering questions, but he was prepared with a story just in case.
As he walked, he again thought of Alex with regret. He didn't care what happened to him if he were caught, but he didn't want her to suffer for trusting him. They might hold her responsible. If he did decide to go back with his friends, he would have to figure out a way to do it without leaving Alex behind to feel the repercussions, but he didn't allow himself to think that far ahead just yet.
As hard as it was, the decision to help his friends was a whole lot easier than the next one he had to make--whether to stay or go back to the beach. When he had first set out to come here, it had all seemed so clear in his mind. There was never any doubt as to what he was going to do. It was easier when he thought they were inhuman; before everything changed.
Charlie turned the last corner and saw the guard standing outside the cells, his back to one of the doors. It was a different guard from earlier that day but he had the same bored, sleepy look. Charlie reached into his pocket and pulled out a small slip of paper. Then he approached the guard with his other hand down at his side.
The guard glanced up at his presence. Charlie wished he had been able to get his hands on an ID badge with the proper clearance, since it would have made this much easier, but there was no chance of that. None of the plebes in his quarters had that kind of clearance, and the superiors that did, didn't simply leave them lying around. This was the only way.
"Hi," said Charlie.
The guard nodded his greeting in return. Charlie reached out his hand and offered the paper to the guard. "I have a message for you from Klugh."
The guard peered down, took the note and began to unfold it. Just as the paper left Charlie's hand he brought up the other and stabbed the guard in the arm with the needle, pressing the plunger. The guard looked up in surprise and then slumped to the ground, unconscious.
Charlie smiled, pleased with himself, and reached into the guard's pocket, removing the key card. He didn't know where the others were but he remembered which cell was Sawyer's. Charlie swiped the card and opened the door.
He took one step into the unlit room when he heard a shrill alarm and froze. Bollocks. He didn't have much time now.
"Sawyer! Wake up!" he called into the darkness. With the light from the hallway Charlie could see Sawyer stir. He opened his eyes and immediately stood when he saw Charlie standing in front of him.
Sawyer seemed confused. "What are you doing, Chuck?"
Charlie thrust the key at him. "Take this. We have to make it look like an escape. Hit me and then go unlock Jack and Kate and get the hell out of here."
"Ain't you coming with us?" asked Sawyer, yelling over the sound of the alarm.
Charlie heard the sounds of voices and footsteps from far down the hall. His heart pounded faster. All he thought of was protecting Alex. "I can't right now. There's no time to explain!" He pointed down the hall. "Go that way. I'll keep the guards busy when they get here."
Sawyer must have felt the urgency because he didn't take the time to argue about it. He just gave Charlie an apologetic look. "I hope you know what you're doing, short stack. Sorry about this." With a perfect left hook, Charlie felt a sharp crack and he spun and fell down. Lying stunned just inside Sawyer's cell, he heard the sound of doors opening and several people scrambling down the hallway. You didn't have to hit me that hard, he said to himself, blinking and reaching for his aching jaw.
A minute later Charlie was pushing himself up to sit, wiping the blood from his lip when a pair of guards arrived.
"Are you okay? What happened?" the guard asked, crouching down next to him.
He took a breath and answered as slowly as possible to buy his friends more time. "I woke up when I heard the alarm, and I ran down to see what was going on. I saw one of the test subjects escaping. I don't know how he did it." Charlie indicated towards the still sleeping guard in the hall with a glance. "He knocked the guard out there and then he hit me and took off." He then pointed down the hall in the opposite direction from where his friends had gone. "He let the other two out as well. I saw them all go that way. They were headed to the surface."
The guard signaled to his partner and the two took off on their wild goose chase. Charlie sat for a moment, collecting himself, watching them go. He felt satisfied, believing that his plan worked. He hoped he had given them enough of a head start. The guards should hopefully conclude that they lost the escapees and give up. Charlie would go back to his room, slip back into bed and that would be that. He started to get up from the floor.
Just then, a second pair of guards appeared. They grabbed Charlie roughly by both arms and yanked him up.
"Ow! Wait!" he yelled, "What are you doing?"
They didn't respond, but just threw him backwards into Sawyer's cell. He felt the jolt as he hit the floor hard for the second time that night. Getting back up, he tried to plead his case, running for the door. "You're making a mistake!" He cried, but the door was slammed shut in his face.
Chapter Eight
There was no time to ask questions. Kate heard the alarm sound outside her cell, jumped out of bed, and suddenly Jack and Sawyer were there, setting her free. They took off, following Sawyer down the hallway. Her mind was a jumble but all she knew was she had to run. Running was one thing Kate was good at.
At the end of the corridor was a single turn leading to another long hallway. At the end of that was a door marked "Exit". Behind the door was a ramp sloping up to ground level and a set of metal double doors. Jack and Sawyer pushed the doors opened and they were free. Outside in the early morning hour it was still dark, but Kate indulged in the fresh air for the first time in almost three weeks.
They knew they were likely being pursued, so they didn't stop there. They were unarmed, so all they could do was make themselves scarce. Jack took the lead with Sawyer following close behind. Kate kept an eye on Jack, trying to keep up with his sudden turns and not lose sight of either man. They turned in as many directions as they could, putting distance between themselves and the Other's compound, but at the same time not telegraphing their location with a straight line.
Running through the dark jungle, Kate stumbled and tripped more than once. Eventually she slowed her pace to keep her footing. The darkness at least had the advantage of making them harder to spot, even if they couldn't run at top speed.
Kate felt a cramp in her side and the sting of stray vines as they whipped at her face. It didn't feel like they were ever going to stop running. She wondered if it was her fate—doomed to run forever. She assumed they were searching for a cave or shelter to safely take a break. Finally, when she thought she was going to drop anyway, she spotted one.
"Over here!" she yelled to the men, "There's a cave."
Jack and Sawyer stopped, turned back and followed her. She led them to the cave entrance and they all collapsed inside. They must have run for almost two miles. Without the sun to guide them they could only hope they were heading in the direction of their camp, but it was a long way in any event. They said nothing at first; everyone was too busy catching their breath. Finally Sawyer sat up, peeking outside of the cave entrance, "Did you see anyone following us?"
"No," said Jack. "But we should make this a short stop just to be safe. Is everyone alright?" he asked, though Kate noticed Jack was looking at her when he asked.
"Yeah" she answered, still panting. Despite her fatigue and discomfort, her curiosity got the better of her. She wiped the sweat and stray hairs from her face. "How'd you guys get out?"
Kate noticed that Jack looked to Sawyer for the answer. Jack must have been wondering the same thing. Sawyer put his elbows on his knees, looked down and sighed, "It was Charlie. He let me out."
Jack suddenly leapt up on his knees, throwing himself into Sawyer's personal space. "WHAT! He helped us escape and you left him behind?" he yelled, fists clenched.
Sawyer put a hand up to deflect Jack's fury. "Easy Doc, put the brakes on. I tried to get him to come but for some reason he seemed determined to stay. He gave me the key to your cells, told me to hit him and make it look like an escape. We didn't exactly have time to discuss it."
Jack sat back on his heels and seethed while Kate was trying to make sense of all this. She wasn't sure she heard Sawyer correctly at first. She almost said 'Charlie who?', because she couldn't believe the Charlie she knew from the beach would suddenly turn up in the Other's camp rescuing them from the inside.
"Wait, slow down," Kate said. "Charlie's there?"
"Looks like I owe you a beer, Doc" Sawyer told Jack, "I guess he was there to help us all along."
Kate was still trying to understand what was happening. She felt like she had walked in on a conversation in progress. She had been feeling that way a lot lately where Jack was concerned—out of the loop. She looked at Jack again, "Jack, you knew about this? You knew he was there?"
Jack nodded, "Sawyer told me yesterday that he saw Charlie working in the room where they were performing tests. That was all we knew, but the fact that he helped rescue us proves he's not a traitor."
"Then why would he stay behind?" she asked, "Why not escape with us?"
"I don't know" said Jack, "but if his cover is blown he could be in trouble. We have to get him out of there." Jack glared at Sawyer again and began to get up, "I'm going back."
"Are you kidding me?" Sawyer cried, "We were lucky to get out of there with our hides, and you want to go back?"
"Sawyer," said Kate, trying to appeal to the shred of humanity she knew Sawyer had to have, "you can't actually believe Charlie wants to be there. Maybe he's being forced to stay. He needs our help."
Sawyer wasn't convinced. "And how exactly do you plan to do that and not end up back on the chain gang? We're not even armed."
Jack stood, "I'm sure we'll think of something. Let's go."
Kate knew that Sawyer wouldn't sit in a cave and let Jack be the hero. If he didn't have a shred of humanity, a little competition never hurt.
Chapter Nine
Not long after the guards locked him in the cell, they reappeared. Charlie was sitting on the cot in the dark, wondering what they planned to do with him. When the door opened and the light came on he jumped up and instinctively took a step backward even though he knew there was not much sense to it. They grabbed him again, forced him into the chair and tied his hands around back.
Charlie was getting fed up with the silent treatment. He still thought that he could talk his way out of this if he had the chance. He put on an indignant tone, as if it was all just a case of mistaken identity and heads would roll for this. "What's going on? Is somebody going to talk to me?"
The guards walked out, leaving the door ajar. Charlie squirmed in his seat. The bindings on his wrists were tight. Thoughts of torture ran through his head and for the first time he began to tremble, his confidence shattered. The suspense only made it worse. Whatever they were planning to do, he wished they would just get it over with already. He was relieved when someone finally appeared, but with the possible exception of Claire, it was the last person he expected.
It wasn't an executioner. It was Alex. She entered the room and came towards him slowly, looking at him like he was a stranger, but her expression was anything but cold. The hurt and disappointment he felt radiating from her was worse than torture. She appeared to be fighting to hold back tears as she spoke, "I heard you get up, so I followed you. I saw you knock out the guard and open the cell. I pulled the alarm." She came closer, begging for answers, "I don't understand, Charlie. I believed you. You said you wanted to help us. Why would you do this?"
Charlie was struck by her emotion, but he felt a need to make her understand. "Alex, I'm sorry, but they're not just 'subjects', they have names, they're human beings. It wasn't right to hold them against their will. If you needed our help why didn't you just ask for it?"
"After what Ethan did, you would never have trusted us" she argued, "before you came here, you thought we were all like him. We need fresh DNA samples and test subjects if we're going to find a cure for the sickness and continue our work."
Charlie was willing to concede she had a point, even if it still failed to justify what they did, but that wasn't what mattered to him now. In that moment the hardest part was seeing how much he had hurt her, and he would have done anything to take that back. "If it helps," he offered, "I could've escaped with them, but I didn't. I didn't want you to get in trouble for convincing them to trust me."
"It doesn't matter now. They've already decided what to do with you" she said. "You have to leave, except that now you know too much about us. One of the conditions of our funding is that the work we do here has to be kept secret. They are going to perform a procedure that will erase your recent memory and then send you back." Alex brought her hand around and for the first time Charlie noticed the syringe she held.
He began to struggle, trying to free himself from the chair, his eyes darting from the needle to the open door behind her. "No. No don't, Alex. Please!" he pleaded.
She came closer, speaking kindly, "Charlie, don't make this harder."
"I'm not……It's just……"
"You'll be okay" she assured him.
"It's not that! It's…"
"Well, what is it then?"
"I don't want to forget you!" He cried. Then he lowered his head and broke down, "They're going to take you away from me."
Alex crouched down and put her arm around his neck. Putting her forehead against his, they cried together. Then, holding him close she kissed his cheek and whispered into his ear, "I'm sorry, but don't worry. I'll remember for both of us."
Then she brought her other hand up quickly and stabbed his arm with the needle. Charlie closed his eyes and gasped. He felt a sharp pinch and a slow burn. He put his head down on Alex's shoulder, inhaled the scent of her shampoo, trying to commit every detail of her to memory. Then he exhaled, and everything vanished.
Chapter Ten
Jack was leading the march back towards the Others' camp. The sun was just beginning to rise and the small dose of light helped guide them. They had run away so fast that none of them took note of the direction they had been heading, but Jack did the best he could. They avoided clearings and any area where they felt vulnerable. They took advantage of the jungle cover whenever possible.
The last thing they needed was to get caught again, but Jack was determined to return the favour and get Charlie out of there. If he'd known what had happened, he never would have left without him. Jack couldn't imagine why Charlie was choosing to stay but he would have dragged him out of there kicking and screaming if he had to. Damn that Sawyer.
Jack was still shaking his head over the idea that Charlie had even managed to accomplish what he had. To get inside the Others' camp, pretend to join them and then cause a jailbreak; it was crazy, it was risky, it was brave……it was Charlie. Jack smiled to himself, an operation like this had Charlie written all over it.
He wondered if anyone else back at their camp even knew Charlie had done this. Chances were, if they did, they would've tried to stop him, but he would have done it anyway. Jack was looking forward to hearing the entire story and learning about all that Charlie experienced during his time there. He would certainly have a wealth of information about what the Others' are actually up to, but of course they would have to find a way to rescue him first. They certainly wouldn't be able to do it the way Charlie had.
They walked on until daybreak. Jack was so lost in his thoughts that it took Kate calling his name to bring him back.
"Jack, what's that?" she was pointing to what looked like a body lying face down in the jungle about twenty yards ahead of them.
Jack snapped back to attention and focused on the prone form. When he noticed the size of the body and the blonde hair he took off in a sprint leaving Kate and Sawyer in his wake.
He reached him, crouched down and turned him over, checking for a pulse and exhaling when he found one. "Charlie? Charlie, wake up" he called, slapping one side of his face lightly. He was about to slap the other when he noticed the large bruise on his right jaw. Jack looked at Sawyer, who was now standing alongside him with Kate. "Did you have to hit him that hard?" he said testily.
Sawyer rolled his eyes and pointed to Charlie's unconscious form in self defense, sounding like a kid shifting blame to his brother for a broken window. "It was his idea! Is he ok?"
Turning his attention back to Charlie, Jack shook him lightly by the shoulders, "C'mon, wake up Charlie."
After a minute Charlie began to stir, moaned a bit and then opened his eyes. He looked at the three of them groggily, appearing disoriented. "How did you get here?" he asked them.
"We were about to ask you the same thing," said Jack.
Charlie pushed himself up to his elbows. "No, I mean, how did you get out? You were being held by the Others."
"You got us out," said Sawyer, "Don't you remember?"
"Me?" said Charlie, appearing more confused by the minute. He sat up fully and put a hand to his head.
"What's the last thing you remember?" Jack asked him.
Charlie thought for a bit and then responded. "I was heading to the Others' camp, the day after we heard you were taken. I was going to talk my way in and then rescue you. But I don't remember ever getting there."
Jack sighed, "Charlie that was nearly three weeks ago."
"What?" said Charlie "Three weeks? Then it really happened? I was there?" He buried his head in his hands, exasperated.
Jack didn't know what to say but fortunately Kate did. She always did. She put her arm around Charlie to comfort him. "Charlie, you weren't only there, you did it. You saved us." She smiled, hoping to lift his spirits.
Charlie looked up, "Then why can't I remember it?"
"I don't know" said Jack, "maybe they did something to your memory. Give it time, maybe it will come back to you like it did with Claire."
Sawyer tapped Jack on the shoulder and spoke quietly, "I hate to break up this little reunion but whoever dumped Secret Squirrel out here might still be around. I think we best be heading back to our side of the line."
Jack nodded and he and Kate gave Charlie a lift up. With the help of the sun they were better able to determine their direction and find their way back.
As they walked, Sawyer tried to jog Charlie's memory with a few of his own, "I was getting some test done to me and you were there, in the room. You had a lab coat on and you said that you worked there. Any of that sound familiar?"
Charlie thought and finally shook his head. Then Jack noticed he suddenly sounded like he was miles away. "There was a girl" said Charlie, as if in a trance, "I think. She had brown hair."
THE END
