[Lost: Charlotte Lewis, Daniel Faraday] You and Me in Time
Title: You and Me in Time
Author: buongiornodaisy
Fandom: Lost
Characters: Charlotte Lewis, Daniel Faraday
Pairing: Charlotte/Daniel
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,130
Warnings: Character death; spoilers for seasons 4 and 5.
Summary: Charlotte grows up, and Charlotte remembers.
Author's Note: Written for valhalla37, who wanted me to write Charlotte. Title comes from a song by Broadcast.
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She is three, and so she is forgiven for waving at the stranger. He doesn't wave back. She is too young to understand what it means.
She is four, and the man remains, dressed up in those funny clothes her father wears to work. She waves at him again, hoping he'll respond. He lifts his hand slightly. She's uncertain what it means.
She is five, and he waves to her unbidden. He is headed towards the submarine with a group of other people, and she wonders if he's leaving the island for good. She is uncertain whether she is sad or glad the strange man is gone.
She is six, and the man approaches her in the playground. She's eating a stick of chocolate she shouldn't be eating. She confesses her guilt, but the man is unconcerned. He tells her things, scary things, that she does not understand until later, when she and her mother are huddled in the submarine, her father left behind on the island.
She is twelve, angry, and rebellious. She is the eldest child and ignored in favor of her two sisters, obedient and sane, whose heads are not “in the clouds” like hers. Her mother insists she's a liar, that she's made up that island she says she comes from. It doesn't make sense to Charlotte. Why would she make up an island full of identical houses and playgrounds and not an island full of magic? She knows she isn't lying. She wants to prove she's right.
She is thirteen, and watching Indiana Jones as if for the first time. It's the second film. She's seen the first. Yet, she has never considered his work at all relevant to her. Archeology, uncovering artifacts, and stumbling upon unknown cultures-that used to be pure entertainment to her, but suddenly they are more, they are relevant. They are the answer to proving her memories right.
She is sixteen and excelling in school. She doesn't get along with many of her peers, but the teachers are so enamored by her academic skill that they let the chip on her shoulder slide. Her mother deigns to shed attention to her daughter just once to ask what she will do with herself. “I'm going to be an anthropologist,” she replies.
She attends college purely on the grace of scholarships.
She is 33, and sufficiently accomplished in her career. She sits in a café in Tozeur and stares at the television set blaring news she can't believe. “I beg your pardon,” says an American voice to her left. She looks up to see a tall, dark man standing next to her table. He introduces himself as Matthew Abaddon, says he is in the employ of Charles Widmore and that he has a job for her.
She is 33, staring out at the ocean from the Kahana. A man named Daniel Faraday stands at her side, constantly fidgeting. He amuses her, this withdrawn, forgetful scientist. She thinks he is familiar but cannot say why. He suggests Oxford; she replies maybe. Oxford doesn't seem nearly as old a memory for her to explain why he is so familiar.
She is 33, and playing card games with him on the boat. She is watching him as he stares at the backs of the cards, trying to recall their faces. He often looks this way, his brows creased and head bowed, as he contemplates science too complex for her to comprehend. She finds it oddly attractive. She says nothing to indicate such thoughts, though she suspects the feeling is mutual. But Dan has bigger things to worry about than trying to get a girl.
She is 33, and watching as Dan leaves the Island on the zodiac with a handful of crash survivors. She meant what she said, that nothing lasts forever, and she believes that's good enough reason not to linger, not to bother making a connection with him when she has work to do. She doesn't have forever to explore the place she'd been told for most of her life was a fake. She likes Daniel. She likes Daniel a lot. But Daniel is not more important than finding out where she came from.
She is 33, and it is 1954, and she can hardly believe what she hears. No man has ever been so stupidly chivalrous towards or about her, and she is uncertain whether she wants to kiss or slap Dan. She's uncertain if Dan even meant what he said or if he blurted something out to surprise Richard Alpert. Nothing lasts forever, she had said, and she meant love and romance, too. But Daniel looks at her with the utmost sincerity, and every cynical thought she has flies out of the window.
She is ??, and there are strangers, and her head feels pressed in a vice. The sky is blue and beautiful and cloudy, and she wonders where her mommy is. Her daddy. It's Dan. She smiles, fresh off the memory of what he had said, and allows him to pull her up. There had been a flash. When are they, now?
She is 33...
...23...
...4...
...15...
...33, and the pain is immense. Dan knows the answer, Dan knows what is happening, but he never tells her what is wrong though she is dying, she knows she is dying, from memories that
Why can’t Daddy come with us?
overwhelm her, painful and happy and silly and
Oh, oh turn it up! I love Geronimo Jackson.
Daniel still won't tell her why she's dying.
She is six...she is 33...she is staring at the man leaning over her and holding her hand. She recalls that he had said something nice to her, that he loved her, and she feels regret. She never got the chance to love him back. But she is six, she is 33, and she is remembering something long since buried, remembering the man who told her scary things, the man who said that she would die if she returned to the island. The man whose face she can now attach to a name: Daniel Faraday.
She is six, and sitting on one of the swings with a big bar of chocolate given to her by her father. He knows and she knows that's against the rules, but a shipment came in and he could not let a big, beautiful bar of chocolate go to waste. He hands it to her and says to keep it between her and him, and she agrees-but now there's someone approaching the swing, and she is afraid he will tell her mother. He comes to a stop in front of her and crouches to his knees, and she says, guiltily, “I'm not allowed to have chocolate before dinner.”