First off, pacejunkie in all her awesomeness has written a sequel story to my fic 'The Belly of a Whale'. Her two part epilogue is called 'Washed Ashore' and switches between Sayid, Hurley, Claire and Desmond POVs as they each try to fathom what happened to Charlie during the month he was held prisoner by Bonnie and Greta. This story is highly recommended to anyone who enjoyed my original fic. Pace nailed it!
Also...here's a little drabble I wrote ages ago and have been meaning to post.
Synopsis: Drabble. Charlie's thoughts as he says goodbye to baby Aaron.
Characters: Charlie and Aaron with mentions of Liam.
I kneel in the sand and place Aaron into his crib. If I lean close enough I can see my reflection shining in his big round eyes. He reaches up to touch my face. Aaron likes my face. He thinks it’s funny. He giggles as he explores it with his chubby little fingers. It’s his way of getting to know me.
Aaron does know me. I’m sure of it.
But he won’t…he won’t remember me. You never remember stuff from when you’re a baby, do you? I wonder what Aaron will look like when he’s all grown up. Hopefully less like a turnip. I really wish that I could see him growing up. But that’s not important now, is it? The most important thing is that Aaron gets a chance to grow up. So I’ve got to save him, haven't I. I’ve got to get him the hell off this island.
Maybe after they are rescued Claire will get back together with that Thomas bloke. He’s Aaron’s real dad after all. The thought makes me a little heartsick. I wish Aaron were mine. I can’t help feeling like he is mine, even though Claire and Locke once told me straight that he isn’t. Well whatever. I still love Aaron like he were my own. Sometimes I think the feeling is mutual. He always smiles when I pick him up. If he could talk he might tell them differently.
I was thinking about my ring just now, my only heirloom. I was remembering how Liam suggested that I pass it onto my little one some day. Liam needed to know that it was safe. I know Aaron likes my ring too. He’s always grabbing at my finger so he can clamp his gums around it. I’d been thinking he would cut his first tooth on my ring. Maybe not now. Still I reckon I can trust him to take good care of it.
I slip it off my finger and tuck it into his cradle.
“I love you…” I whisper to him.
He presses his soft wet hand to my cheek, just below my eye. This is his bratty little way of saying ‘Don’t go, play with me!’ And I can’t explain to him that I have to go and that I won’t ever be back to play. When he realises I think he’ll be upset with me. He’ll cry and squeal and wonder why I’ve gone away. Aaron knows me now, but one day he’ll forget. All I want is for him to live long enough to forget...
I need to know he’s safe.