It was fairly late in the day when Desmond finally woke up and crawled out of his tent, rubbing his eyes and wondering if he hadn't again gotten stinking drunk the night before. Wouldn't be anything new, his mind acknowledged, but even though he couldn't exactly remember what had occurred the night before he knew it had nothing to do with liquor. Something much worse.
Stumbling out into the sunlight, he arched his back and stretched his tired limbs. His mind still felt groggy, a sign that he hadn't gotten to sleep until the morning, and then had over slept. As his muscles responded deliciously to the stretch the memories of the past night crept back into his mind. Convulsively he covered his eyes again as he remembered the fool he had been. He straightened up quickly, remembering too his prior resolution.
Des slowly made his way towards the jungle, feeling more alert and despondent by the minute. Thoughts of Charlie's whereabouts began to cloud his brain until the voice inside sternly instructed him that no contact whatsoever should be sought out. Still, even though he could not physically be in the company of the rock star, he could gauge the effects of yesterday's events by the reaction of his fellow islanders. So, deviating from his normal routine, he snuck into camp almost guiltily for breakfast.
Sun was the first person to greet Desmond that morning, and it was no different than any other day. Aloof, but polite, she had smiled as she went about her morning routine. Next was the affable Hurley.
"Desmundo!" He happily shouted from his seat outside his tent, a box of Dharma cereal in his clutches. Desmond waved back and managed a thin smile, which pleased the large man so much that he quickly rose and joined him.
"What can I do for ye, Hurley?" Desmond asked when he noticed that his new company intended to prolong the greeting.
"Nothing, dude." Hurley munched in response as they continued walking towards the food. "It's just that… Charlie's, like, not himself today. And, ummm, I know that, like, something went down between the two of you and I was wondering, like, what's the matter?"
"Hey, hatch boy!" Desmond raised an eyebrow and stopped just as he was about to pluck a piece of fruit from the carton. "What do you think you're doin'?
"Yours too, brotha?" Desmond testily inquired as he held up the fruit, quite aware by now of the redneck's hoarding fixation.
Sawyer in turn jerked his head to the side and huffed. "No brotha," He violently rolled his eyes, "With Chucky and little Mamacita. Kate's been over there the whole damn night comfortin' the little miss!"
"And why should you care?" Hurley asked as he shoved another handful of cereal in his mouth, obviously irritated by Sawyer's presence.
"None of your business Hoss." Sawyer shot back.
Desmond by now had managed to ignore the bickering of the other two men in order to concentrate on the news, none of which was very comforting in his current state.
"I…I… I have to go." Des muttered, excusing himself from the conversation. His departure finally halted the hostility, but when Hurley attempted to call out for Des he was already gone.