Alphabet Vignette - H
Title: H is for Hero
Fandom: LOST
Characters: Charlie Pace (slight Charlie x Claire, Charlie + Liam, and Charlie + Desmond)
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst
Disclaimer: LOST and its characters do not belong to me.
A/N: 10 of 26.
Warning: Major spoilers for the last season finale of LOST.
It was not a way he imagined dying.
He first thought he was going to die in a Manchester alley, his fingernails caked with white powder, his cheek pressed against the wet, dirty ground. He would be smiling, because the dizzying and delightful effects of the drug would still be rushing pleasantly through his body. Liam may or may not be by his side, but he would be singing, regardless-you all everybody-his voice hoarse and laughing.
Then, later, after he left England and survived a plane crash and found himself stranded on a bizarre and dangerous island, and after he fell madly in love with a beautiful woman, he thought of a different way to die. He pictured dying an old man, an old happy man, beside an old Claire, an old happy Claire. They would be watched over by Aaron, all grown up and married and with kids of his own, and he would be happy too, because they were. And he, Charlie, would turn his head and look at Claire and they would smile at each other and he would whisper-see you on the other side, love-his voice hoarse and laughing.
He never thought he would die being a hero.
But as the water rushed around him, filling his chest and lungs and ears, and Desmond was banging on the door and calling out his name, he was thinking of the other man’s vision-Claire and Aaron being lifted into a helicopter, safe, thanks to him-he was comforted in the knowledge that this was, undoubtedly, the best way to go.
Fandom: LOST
Characters: Charlie Pace (slight Charlie x Claire, Charlie + Liam, and Charlie + Desmond)
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst
Disclaimer: LOST and its characters do not belong to me.
A/N: 10 of 26.
Warning: Major spoilers for the last season finale of LOST.
It was not a way he imagined dying.
He first thought he was going to die in a Manchester alley, his fingernails caked with white powder, his cheek pressed against the wet, dirty ground. He would be smiling, because the dizzying and delightful effects of the drug would still be rushing pleasantly through his body. Liam may or may not be by his side, but he would be singing, regardless-you all everybody-his voice hoarse and laughing.
Then, later, after he left England and survived a plane crash and found himself stranded on a bizarre and dangerous island, and after he fell madly in love with a beautiful woman, he thought of a different way to die. He pictured dying an old man, an old happy man, beside an old Claire, an old happy Claire. They would be watched over by Aaron, all grown up and married and with kids of his own, and he would be happy too, because they were. And he, Charlie, would turn his head and look at Claire and they would smile at each other and he would whisper-see you on the other side, love-his voice hoarse and laughing.
He never thought he would die being a hero.
But as the water rushed around him, filling his chest and lungs and ears, and Desmond was banging on the door and calling out his name, he was thinking of the other man’s vision-Claire and Aaron being lifted into a helicopter, safe, thanks to him-he was comforted in the knowledge that this was, undoubtedly, the best way to go.