Disclaimer: I do not own Lost or its characters. I only own the story in my head.
Summary: They changed everything. Flight 815 never crashed, the island is underwater, and the same people are living different lives. So they think, because fate as other plans.
Sideways Stories from the Castaways
Charlie
Charlie Pace was getting agitated he just wanted caffeine to calm his nerves why couldn't the man understand that? He hated this hospital because they weren't giving him any drugs. "Come on mate, I just need a coffee or a soda." He says again to the man who was peering at him strangely.
"Are you alright, brotha?" The man asks.
He looks at his shaking hands and balls them into fists, he tries to grab on the edge of the plastic chair and misses but he manages not to fall. When he looks back up four orderlies run into the room and grab him.
"Took you long enough" Charlie tells them smug smile, then tries to land a punch on one of them. They manage to grab as he continues to struggle. He sees the man push himself into the wall so he wouldn't be hit.
He figured if he kept struggling they would have to subdue him and get him the fix that he needed. They grab his arms and his legs and carry him out the lounge. He tries swinging his body back and forth but the men they sent were built like an ox. They weren't even struggling to carry him.
He looks to the side a pregnant woman was being wheeled out of a room, he stops struggling as he meets her eyes. Her curly blond hair was matted to her forehead and she had an entourage of people following her, including two cops. Her eyes follow his as they pass.
They continue to carry him in the elevator as they go to the eighth floor. They finally put him down and knock on a door.
"I believe this is your 2 o'clock, doctor" they say to the blonde woman that answers. "Shall we tie him up?"
"No, that won't be necessary." She tells him much to their disappointment. "Mr. Pace, why don't you have a seat on couch?"
He looks to the door and sees that they are still standing there and there were no other exits, so he sighs and goes to the couch and flops down.
"We'll be standing outside in case he tries to make another break for it" The orderlies tell her.
"Yeah, because you guys did such a great time guarding me a few hours ago" He says winking at them. The shrink closes the door and takes a seat across from him. He looks around the room and sees her degrees and plaques. He sees her name Dr. Elizabeth Smith. They sit in silence for awhile until he can't take it anymore. "Aren't you supposed to tell me that drugs are bad and that killing myself is wrong Dr. Smith?"
"No" She replies. "I'm not here to tell you what to do and you can call me Libby"
"Well then Libby…what are you here for?" He asks sitting up.
"I'm here to listen to you, since you seem to have a lot to say" She replies smiling, sitting back in her chair, crossing her legs and placing her hands in her lap.
"Am I supposed to talk about why I tried to kill myself?" He asks.
"Only if you want to" She replies.
He looks her straight in the eyes to see her reaction. "I'm supposed to die"
"And why do you think you are supposed to die?" she asks without blinking.
"I keep having these dreams or nightmares about different ways to die. Every one of them is so vivid and real that I feel like I like I died, but I always wake up" he tells her, he figured she'd have more of a reaction but she's probably heard quite a few crazy stories being a shink. But it was also the way he woke from those dreams he'd just open his eyes and find himself to be sprawled out on his bed as if he was struggling.
She leans forward now. "So you think that because you are dreaming about death, that you are meant to be dead?"
"Yes" he replies.
"You know dreams aren't always meant to be interrupted so literally" she tells him.
"Mine are" He tells her. Why wouldn't they be? Every single dream was showing him different ways to die. So he just figured someone was trying to tell him something.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because I felt like I was already dead" he tells her.
She tilts her head and looks at him. "You said felt. Do you not feel that way anymore?"
"What?" he asks.
"You used a past tense, felt instead I feel like I'm dead" she tells him.
"I don't know" he said he didn't even know he that he said that.
"Do you still want to kill yourself?
If she had asked him earlier he would have said yes without a doubt, but then he saw something that made him rethink it. "I saw this girl when they dragged me here… this pregnant woman and I had the sudden craving for peanut butter."
"Peanut butter?" she asks surprised.
"Yes I know it's strange, I mean I like peanut butter alright, but I never had an intense craving for it."
"But you do now?" she asks him.
He sits up straight. "Yes, the girl and the peanut butter craving, They made me feel something I haven't felt in a long time…alive"