spikessweetgirl (spikessweetgirl) wrote in fieldsofgold, @ 2009-01-06 16:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | leave out all the rest charlie/claire |
Leave Out All The Rest Charlie/Claire
Title: Leave Out All The Rest
Author: spikessweetgirl
Fandom: Lost
Ship: Charlie/Claire
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters
Spoilers: Greatest Hits-Throught The Looking Glass
Based the song: Leave Out All The Rest by Linkin Park
Summary: Charlie is dead. Claire searches through his things to find something to describe who he had been when she happens upon a letter.
It was a quiet day on the beach today. It’s been two days since the war with the others and help was called. It’s been one day since Desmond’s return, Charlie’s lifeless body cradled in his arms and now…in a few hours…they were to have Charlie’s funeral. Claire Littleton sat in what was once Charlie’s tent, trying to capture even a hint of his presence. She was to say something at his funeral…since she had been the closest one to him and she had hoped to use his guitar to tell everyone who Charlie was and why he had been so important in her life. Sadly, she couldn’t find that guitar. She had asked Hurley and Desmond both…but neither had seen the battered instrument since the day they found Naomi.
Charlie must have finally given it a proper burial. All the water and wind damage had finally made the guitar completely useless. Claire had suggested a few times that he should just declare the instrument a lost cause. She guessed he finally did. She wished that he hadn’t. Signing, she went over to his things, to see if he could find anything else that could help people get a clue on who he had been. Something other than the ring that she had found in Aaron’s crib once they had returned to the beach.
Opening his suitcase, she searched, pulling out shirts and jeans and other items of clothing that were his. She found his hooded sweater and had spent a good five minutes with her face buried in it, just inhaling his unique scent. Tears filled her eyes. She could almost pretend that he was still there…that he hadn’t died after all and the sweater was really his chest pressed against her cheek and he was holding her…comforting her over some imagined wrong…but then she had to breathe and the fantasy dissipated. Charlie wasn’t there. He was gone and nothing she did would every bring him back.
Crying freely now, she went to refill the suitcase when a white flash caught her eye at the bottom. Moving aside the rest of the clothes, she found a white envelope with her name scrawled across the front in his handwriting. Frowning, she stared at the envelope, wondering what was in it and why Charlie would leave it to her. Surely he wouldn’t have been preparing for his death…not after trying to avoid it for so long…but then why else would he write a letter to her and not give it to her? It just didn’t make any sense.
Should she open it? What would it say? Would it make the pain she was in worse…or would it comfort her? Did she want to read it, or was she angry with him still, for promising to be careful…for taking the stupid mission anyway, knowing of Desmond’s visions…for sacrificing his life for hers and Aaron’s. Aaron. Charlie had loved him and Aaron had loved Charlie, unconditionally, but he wasn’t the only one. Charlie didn’t know, because she had been too scared to say it…but she loved him too. More than anything and he had gone to his death, thinking she didn’t.
Tears now flowing freely, she opened the letter and pulled out the tearstained sheet of paper. She would read the words Charlie had left for her. She would take what comfort she could from them and keep them with her always. Unfolding the letter she began to read.
Dearest Claire,
As you already know, I have a death prophecy hanging over my head. Desmond says that no matter what he does, that sooner or later the universe will win and I will die. So I’m writing you this letter, so when the inevitable happens….you’ll know who I am…or rather was. This letter is about Charlie Pace. Alter boy, drug addict, plane crash survivor…
Hero, Claire thought to herself, as she read. You were a hero too Charlie. That more than anything else. The hero that I loved. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you.
I was born in the town of Manchester England and I had a brother named Liam. It wasn’t an entirely exciting childhood. Liam and I fought all the time. My parents did cater to me a lot. Even laying the charge of saving the family on my shoulders while Liam messed up. Which is probably why, when I mess up, I really mess up. I never had that freedom in my childhood. I was the special one. I was the one that was going to go places. I was the one that was going to lift the family out of poverty. Liam was the goof off. The slacker. The one that wouldn’t amount to anything. Which is probably why he was the first one to succumb to the rock and roll life style so quickly. It took me a little longer.
That’s right. I didn’t jump into the world of drugs, sex, and rock and roll. I was clean until the last few years of Driveshaft’s fame. Driveshaft. Where my parents loved me best, in Driveshaft, the bright light was my brother. Liam, the pretty boy front man. He had the looks, the charisma, the voice. Everyone wanted him…and all he wanted or cared for was the drugs. The minute we had our first big gig, I found him snorting Heroin. I know…I should have stopped him…but he had it hard from our parents and I had the bloody habit of doting on him…ok. I more like worshipped him. He was my big brother. If Aaron has a sibling, they will most likely worship him. So I didn’t say anything…but then we had that fight and I was so bloody tired of being hurt by him. Of being the one on the outside looking in…so I took his heroin and didn’t stopped until I threw my stash into the fire a few days after we crashed.
But again, getting ahead of myself. Claire…before the crash…I may have been a good person…but I’ve done terrible things. All for the sake of getting a fix. I stole…I conned…nothing as big as what Sawyer would have pulled, but still. A con is a con. Only one time did I attempt to go clean. There was this girl…and she was so sweet and nice and…I wanted to take care of her. I wanted to be the Charlie I used to be before the drugs…but eventually I failed at that. The withdrawals was too much. I was a complete failure at the job her father had gotten for me…so I took this heirloom…I don’t know what I was going to do with it. I still don’t, when I think back on it. But she found out and kicked me out of her life. Good on her, huh?
After that…I was trying to get Driveshaft back on it’s feet. I was going to go solo…but they wouldn’t give me the time of day without Liam. I flew to Sydney and begged Liam to rejoin the band. Instead of a yes, I got a refusal and then a lecture about my addiction and how he could get help for me…when it was really his fault…no…wait…I take that back. It wasn’t Liam’s fault that I became an addict. It was my own. I didn’t have to take those drugs. I did it, because I didn’t want to deal with the pain of my life anymore. My addiction was no one’s fault but my own. Yes. This is me, Charlie Pace taking full responsibility for my shitty decisions. Someone out there would be proud.
That by no means is the end of my sins, Claire. Yes. There’s more. More that you don’t know about and I pray to god that you don’t hate me for. Take for example, before the plane crashed. Do you know what I was doing at the time Claire? I was getting high…or at least attempting to. I was getting high. It was a miracle that I had made it into a seat at all when the plane went down.
Then there’s the cave-in. Do you remember that? At the caves, when Jack had gotten trapped? That was my fault. I was in the middle of bad withdrawals. I got mad at Jack over something completely stupid and went off yelling, causing the cave-in. True, I saved him in the end, but rescue wouldn’t have been necessary if it hadn’t been for me.
You already know about the statuette full of heroin…what you don’t know is…there was more than one. I didn’t use, I swear. The island, I know, I sound like Locke, but he’s right. There’s something very strange about this place, but the island kept showing me these images, telling me that I had to save the baby. I still don’t know what it all meant and why this place was fucking with my head. I may never know, but anyway, back to the heroin. I didn’t take any of it…but I did have more than one statuette…I don’t know why I took the statuettes like that. Safety net? Just in case? I guess there’s no reason for an addict’s mind…but I didn’t take. I took Aaron because I had really believed that he was in danger and Eko had talked about baptism…as you know I’m very very sorry for what happened. I love Aaron as if he were my own. I’d never hurt him.
Claire stopped reading and wiped her eyes as renewed tears fell. She remembered that time so clearly. How she was aggravated with Charlie right before the heroin discovery…how she had kicked him out of her life instead of being more supportive and understanding like she should have been. Instead of kicking him out, she should have helped him. Get him to see that he didn’t need the heroin…that he had her and Aaron. That they would help him through the cravings and withdrawals. Instead, she had kicked him out, right onto the edges of giving in to the addiction. She had allowed that creepy Locke to take his place and punch him to keep him away. She had wasted so much time…time she can now never get back.
There’s more. There was the time I helped Sawyer get the guns. I had been so angry at Locke…he had humiliated me in front of the camp…in front of you. So I jumped at the chance when Sawyer approached with an opportunity to get even, which looking back now…was pretty stupid, because Locke hadn’t been made a fool of. No one cared really. But what I had done…was bad. It was bad and not like the Charlie you met that first night on the island or the Charlie you know now. This was the Charlie that had gotten himself addicted to drugs and refused the help his brother gave him. This was the Charlie that decided it was a good idea to attempt a con on a innocent driveshaft fan so he can get the next hit. This was a Charlie that I am very ashamed to admit that ever existed…but if I am to die with a clear conscious, I’m to confess everything.
It wasn’t The Others that took Sun that day in her garden. It was me. I can say it was all Sawyer’s idea…that I let him talk me into this stupid con because I was pissed at Locke. That I betrayed one of my friends, a woman that had never had an unkind word for me…just because I wanted to get back at Locke for taking you away. I regretted it afterwards. I told Sawyer that she couldn’t know that it was me and he kept his word…
But I didn’t. I couldn’t live with the guilt anymore. I confessed all to Sun the day Nikki and Paulo died. She was so scared of The Others…and I couldn’t let her live with that. So I confessed. She was pissed, and I was sure that she was going to tell you…but she never did. I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive me for what I had done. I know I’ll never forgive myself. I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgave me either. Why did I do it? Well, I could always say that I wasn’t myself…which I mostly wasn’t…but that’s beside the point. I can say that it was all Sawyer’s idea and I was as much a victim as Sun. But all of those would be cop outs. I did it, not because of Sawyer, not because I wasn’t myself…I did it out of revenge against Locke. I wanted to humiliate him like he had me. It was a bad, selfish thing to do and I am sorry. You’ll never know just how sorry I am.
I hope someday you can find it in your heart to forgive me these sins that I’ve just confessed to you Claire…that you don’t hate me too much. I don’t blame you if you do. I know that I’ll never be able to forgive myself and who knows how I’ll be judged when I do die. Which I will. I’ve accepted it now. It’s my fate.
Some people would say that boarding that flight was the biggest mistake of my life…that it brought on my degradation and death. But I say, that it was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Why? Because it had finally gotten me off the drugs, gotten me to admit to my mistakes and take responsibility for them…and it had brought me to you and Aaron…my salvation…my redemption. My reason for returning to the Charlie I used to be, before the drugs.
You saved me Claire. I know sitting here, reading this, you probably think differently, but you did. You gave me a reason to find my own redemption…to attempt to be worthy of you and Aaron and that’s something I’m thankful for…that I’ll always be thankful for. I can go to my death knowing that I was no longer just a washed up junkie that had done bad things in his life and never took responsibility for them. I can go now with a clear conscious and the love I feel for both you and Aaron. Yes, I love you Claire. I’ve loved you from the moment we shared our first jar of imaginary peanut butter. It’s ok, if you don’t love me back. I understand. You’ve had a hard time with men and trust and I’m fine with just your friendship. Recently, it’s been your friendship that had gotten me through the day.
Just know that my heart will always belong to you and Aaron…no matter where I am. I pray that you don’t remember the bad times. Only the good times. That you remember me as I am now. Not as I was with the statues and heroin addiction. That when you think of me, you’ll think of the Charlie that brought you peanut butter. That sang Aaron to sleep. That held you when you were frightened or lonely. I hope you’ll never have reason to think of the Charlie that had done all the bad things, but remember the Charlie that had done the right things…for the right reasons.
Keep our good times in your memory, lovely Claire. Leave out all the rest.
This is my good-bye letter to you…good-bye my friend…the wonderful woman that I love, for now and always.
Love
Charlie
Claire stared out into space as she folded the letter back up, tears streaming freely down her face. He had known that he was going to die. He had known…and he had felt it appropriate to leave her this letter, confessing not only all his wrongs, but his love as well. To beg her forgiveness and to keep only the good memories of their time together and to forget the bad. Even in death, Charlie was still looking out for her.
“Oh Charlie…you never knew…but I loved you too. I’m sorry…I’m sorry it took this to get me to tell you. And now you’ll never know.”
Tears flowed freely from Claire’s eyes, her heart feeling like it could stop at any moment. She hated herself. She hated herself for wasting so much time, for being such a coward, for not letting him know that she did love him instead of letting him go to his death, thinking that she didn’t.
More time…she needed more time with him. It wasn’t enough. Those three months wasn’t enough…
“Claire?” Sun stood in the door way of the tiny shelter that now only held the belongings of a recently deceased young man who had made his peace with the people he had wronged somehow and had died a hero. “The funeral is about to start…are you ready?”
Claire sniffed, looking up at Sun with tear-filled eyes. She had to know. Charlie couldn’t speak for himself any longer, but she could. She could get the forgiveness for him that he deserved. She kept her eyes on the letter, Charlie’s handwriting standing out perfectly. The only evidence that he had existed at all. “H-he was sorry Sun…for what he had done. He was sorry. Please forgive him…”
Sun frowned, not knowing how Claire had found out about that, then she saw the letter clenched in the sobbing girl’s hand. She went to her friend and wrapped her in a warm embrace. “I know Claire, and I have. I’ve forgiven him everything a long time ago. He was a good man, and he loved you and Aaron more than anything. His sacrifice was proof of that…and he will be honored. I promise you. Do you know what you’re going to say?”
Claire wiped her tears, reading the last bit about remembering all the good times and leaving out the bad. She touched the words, a tearful smile her lips. “Yes. I think I do.”
Sun smiled, gently pulling the girl to her feet. “Come. They’re waiting.”
Claire folded the letter and followed Sun out to the graveyard, a plan forming in her mind. Charlie had given her the perfect Eulogy to give him. When she was done, people will no longer remember the troubled heroin addict, but the man Charlie had become. People will remember Charlie Pace. Friend. Father. Hero…
Finis