Babies and Memories { LIBBY }

[Charlie Pace]

The walk back to the beach had been painfully quiet. Charlie had glanced over at Libby more than a dozen times, wanting to simply talk to her. Say...anything to her. But he remembered Hurley was there, and his gaze would shift down to the jungle floor once more as the group moved towards the beach.

His checkered shoes hit sand, and in the distance, he heard the sound of a baby crying. "Aaron." he breathed out, and rushed towards the tent where the cries had come from. As he pulled back the flap, the cries got louder, and Charlie's eyes fell on the small child that was making the loud noise.

Richard had said that Claire was still alive in Los Angeles. Why, he wouldn't say. It wasn't her time, the man had said, and left it at that. Charlie wanted to protest more, but the look from the Other made him shut his mouth. He'd talk to Jack about it later, he thought as he moved to Aaron's make-shift crib. "Oh, oh, hey. Hey, now. That's some fuss you're makin', Turnip. You're gonna wake the bloody dead." Charlie lifted Aaron into his arms, hearing Aaron's cries quiet down. "See? See, there you go. There y'go. See? Everything's okay now." Charlie bounced him slightly, looking down at the little boy who smiled a wide toothless smile.

"Everything's gonna be okay. Oi, didja see Uncle Jin and Auntie Sun? They're here, too. And Uncle Jack. He's here, too, lookin' as stoic as ever. I think they better pull that lump of coal out of his ass; we could prolly sail back to Los Angeles on it. I don't think Uncle Sawyer's in the mood for a story, but--but I'm sure you could get him to do it if you really wanted to." He paused, smiling sadly down at the little boy in his arms. "Did that creepy guy come into your tent? Huh?" He watched as Aaron's brows furrowed, and Charlie's gaze matched his. "He did, did he?" Charlie asked. "Well, that's not good at all. He's banned from the tent starting now. Survivors of 815 crash only. Oh, and Desmond. Desmond's good."

Charlie felt himself trail off as he sighed out. "I really missed you, Aaron. You have no idea how much I missed you. And--And your mummy, your mummy's gonna be okay. She'll be back soon, I promise."

[Libby]

When the beach came into view, Libby could have thrown herself onto the sand and kissed it. The trek through the jungle had been the most terrifying, uncomfortable and confusing experience of her life. She didn’t understand how she was here. She didn’t understand how she had been in L.A. She didn’t understand how she was alive. She didn’t understand her conflicting memories. She didn’t understand how she was supposed to feel. She didn’t understand anything anymore. She didn’t know if she would ever understand anything again. All she wanted to do was throw her arms around Charlie’s neck, bury her face in his shoulder and cry until it all just stopped hurting.

What hurt the most was that she couldn’t do just that.

She thought she had caught him looking at her a few times during the journey, but it was so brief she couldn’t be sure. She had stole numerous glances at him herself, but the eyes she always felt on her were from someone else: Hurley.

How was she supposed to act toward him? Should she be holding his hand right now? Comforting him that she was still alive? Or alive again? It just didn’t feel right. She had cared about him once, and part of her still did, but the awkwardness was palpable. She couldn’t just go back to whatever they had been building before she had been shot. Before she had lived in Los Angeles.

Before Charlie.

Standing awkwardly by the tree line, she watched the others file toward the already burning bonfire, reuniting and chattering about their still unknown fate. She tried to make herself invisible as Hurley moved by; she wondered if he was as uncomfortable as she felt. Then her eyes followed Charlie to Claire’s old tent where a baby’s cries could be heard.

Aaron. Oh God, even the baby was back. Aaron was back, but not Claire? She didn’t understand that either. She had listened in upon Charlie’s conversation with the strange man who led them here, and it had only confused her more. Claire. How could one name inflict so many emotions upon her? There was a sense of genuine concern as she thought of the tiny blonde woman, so fierce and determined to protect her child. She had genuinely liked Claire when they’d been here before.

Then she remembered Charlie as he had lain in her bed, talking about the woman and child that had felt like his own. She remembered how upset he had been learning about Aaron’s death, and Claire’s institutionalisation. She remembered, and concern was replaced by jealousy. Claire, who held so much power over Charlie. Claire who had screamed at him and told him to stay away from her baby. Claire who had treated him so horribly and who didn’t deserve him. Claire who would ruin everything.

Claire who wasn’t here...

With one last glance to make sure Hurley was occupied, Libby made her way toward the tent that Charlie had disappeared into. Slipping inside and letting the flap fall shut behind her, she was just in time to hear him speak those last words to Aaron, about Claire.

Part of her hoped it was a promise he could never keep, and another part of her hated herself for it.

“I see now why you were so upset,” she said quietly, crossing her arms over her stomach and forcing a weak smile.

[Charlie Pace]

"I see now why you were so upset."

Her voice made him look over, watching as she crossed her arms around her stomach and gave him something of a weak smile. His reaction met hers, the thin smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, well, I just...I just wish I woulda remembered sooner. He didn't deserve that." Charlie told her, bouncing the baby lightly in his arms. "He didn't deserve to die. No, you didn't, did you? Shame on them, hurtin' a cute little one like you."

Of course, Charlie was unsure what could have happened if he HAD remembered, or if his remembrance would have stopped Aaron's death at all. But the baby was alive, that was all that mattered. But talking to the little boy wouldn't make the elephant in the tent go away, as much as Charlie partly wanted it to. He pressed his lips to the top of Aaron's fuzzy little head before speaking.

"Libs, I just--" he started, unsure really of what he wanted to say. Did he want to tell her he was sorry? Sorry that they had both gotten all dead, only to wake up here in the land of awkwardness? "I just--you know, I-I was really happy. Even though--" Even though he had taken the drugs and overdosed, even though he had done everything, he had still been happy. So why did he feel like such an ass now?

"I feel so selfish because...because I was happy, and then...and then one day, I woke up and I felt like something was missing. And it wasn't because you weren't there, I just---" he shook his head slightly. "I felt something missing, and---and I hated myself for that because I knew that if I had you, I had the world."

Aaron started to figit in his arms, twisting and squirming, so Charlie moved, laying the boy down back in his crib. "You don't know how much I want to hate myself for that. For wanting something more even when I had perfection."