A Matter of Time//Lost//Daniel&Charlotte//PG
Title: A Matter of Time
Fandom: LOST
Characters/Pairing: Daniel/Charlotte
Rating: PG
Warnings: Season 4.
Summary: Daniel's memory grows worse and worse but Charlotte can't help but love him anyway.
Table/Prompt: Cliche/Amnesia
A/N: Written for mission_insane. I really like writing about possible endings for the Charladay ship, I notice. XD
It had only been a matter of time.
Charlotte Lewis had known that from the moment she'd met Daniel Faraday. He'd been different. Among a misfit crew that included a Ghostbuster and a drunk, that normally wouldn't have seemed unusual. But nothing about their situation had been normal. And Charlotte had known better. After all, there were logical reasons for everything...weren't there? It seemed to be a simple matter of uncovering the truth behind why Daniel was often singled out, an outcast amongst outcasts.
Perhaps it'd been mild curiousity or pure boredom that had drawn Charlotte to him in the first place back on the freighter, back when life's largest concern was finding an island. He'd represented yet another mystery to solve, just one more puzzle to piece together. But it had become much more than Charlotte could have ever anticipated.
She could still remember the first time she'd spoken to him, his exact words and manner when he'd replied.
"Hey," she'd said, approaching the railing of the ship where he had been standing and looking lost in thought.
"Oh, hi." He had seemed startled, surprised almost as if he hadn't expected anyone to speak to him.
"I'm Charlotte," she'd supplied her name along with a friendly hand.
He'd accepted the hand gratefully and had give her his name as well. "Daniel Faraday."
Yes, she remembered every minute detail...It wasn't difficult to do when she was forced to relive the moment in a continuous loop. For what she'd come to find out was that Daniel faraday, once a brilliant Oxfordian professor, suffered from degenerative memory loss, a side effect of years of radiation. With every passing day, his memory worsened.
Still, Charlotte had remained hopeful. The more time she'd spent with him, the more she'd come to realize how special he was...and not just in terms of the mission. He didn't allow his situation to take precedence over himself or let it bother him--why worry about and fight the inevitable? More to the point (and Charlotte respected this about him), he never permitted the casually and consistently flung insults towards him bring him down in any manner. His positivism in the face of what amounted to despair in Charlotte's mind was incredible.
And so, as she found herself growing increasingly fond of the peculiar physicist, Charlotte found herself wondering what good could possibly come from any sort of relationship with Daniel, whether friendly or more so.
The reply that always answered her question was none.
But try as she might, her heart would not obey her mind...And she fell deeply and irrevocably in love with him. And even more remarkable was that he shared the sentiment.
It had made her want to laugh at the absurdity of it ("An anthropologist and physicist, who would've thought it?"), smile at the irony of it ("The last thing I expected to find on the island was, dare I say it, love! Of all things!"), and cry at the bitter inevitably and injustice of how it would all end ("And they lived unhappily ever after...can't say I'm not deserving of that.").
Despite it all, Charlotte was willing to give it a try...and so was Daniel. And for a good amount of time, it appeared that their love could stave off even a physical and incurable disability. They'd both begun to believe in the possibility of a happily ever after, that maybe--just maybe--their love could produce some sort of miracle...
But they were wrong.
It was a slow, subtle thing that began with Charlotte continually having to remind Daniel of simple, unimportant things. Nothing too concerning, even though the nagging fear lurked in the back of her mind. Then he started forgetting larger things--a name here, a birthday there, anniversaries and memorable events. It became apparent that he was getting worse, that their own carefully fostered antidote--their love for one another--was no longer strong enough to fight off his mind's ailment...But both refused to see, neither were willing to accept it.
Then it finally happened one day just as Charlotte had known it would.
He forgot her.
She'd spoken to him and he'd just looked at her. Stared at her with those familiar warm eyes, only no spark of recognition flashed within them. It was as if he had been looking at a complete stranger...and Charlotte had certainly felt just like one.
"I'm sorry," he had said in a quiet, apologetic tone of voice. It was as if somewhere he knew that he was suppose to know who she was, but was simply unable to access the information. "Do I know you?"
And it had hurt so much more than Charlotte would ever have been willing to admit.
She proceeded to tell him who she was and he remembered immediately...He remembered and they'd both laughed it off--but the mirthless action had been hollow, a laugh of temporary relief and unspoken dread.
When he'd fallen asleep that night, Charlotte had cried. She'd cried into the waiting silence, allowing the darkness to envelop her, and accepted what little comfort it had to offer. She knew what was coming--she knew that it was the beginning of the end. She was losing him...And there wasn't anything she could do to stop it.
The next few months seemed to pass by in a blur...and, by the end, Charlotte Lewis could no longer recognize herself. She had, for all intents and purposes, become the very thing that Daniel now saw her as: a virtual stranger. Even to herself. His memory had decayed to the point where he was lucky if he remembered his own name at times, let alone remembering the woman he once loved. Of course, it wasn't all bad--he had his good days every now and then, and he was still very much the man that Charlotte loved...But it was hard.
It was so hard.
Charlotte's mind soon became consumed with skepticism of the possibility of continuing her relationship with him, of remaining in such a masochistic state as she was in. How long would it be until she could take no more of it? Already it was difficult to look at him and know that when he met her gaze, he would not know who she was, how much she adored him, how much it hurt her that he didn't know. Could she continue living with a man who no longer remembered her, no longer possessed the mental capacity to love her as she loved him?
And even while she contemplated what were to her such traitorous thoughts, he would suddenly look at her with his gentle brown eyes and shy smile...And Charlotte would be reminded of why she'd fallen for him in the first place. Why she continued falling for him again and again and again...
And she would stay.
Because though it had only been a matter of time until he'd forgotten her, her heart knew that it was only a matter of time until he remembered her as well, contrary to anything the doctors had to say on the matter.
And for the brief moments when Daniel Faraday did remember Charlotte Lewis, it was worth it.
It was so worth it.
Fandom: LOST
Characters/Pairing: Daniel/Charlotte
Rating: PG
Warnings: Season 4.
Summary: Daniel's memory grows worse and worse but Charlotte can't help but love him anyway.
Table/Prompt: Cliche/Amnesia
A/N: Written for mission_insane. I really like writing about possible endings for the Charladay ship, I notice. XD
It had only been a matter of time.
Charlotte Lewis had known that from the moment she'd met Daniel Faraday. He'd been different. Among a misfit crew that included a Ghostbuster and a drunk, that normally wouldn't have seemed unusual. But nothing about their situation had been normal. And Charlotte had known better. After all, there were logical reasons for everything...weren't there? It seemed to be a simple matter of uncovering the truth behind why Daniel was often singled out, an outcast amongst outcasts.
Perhaps it'd been mild curiousity or pure boredom that had drawn Charlotte to him in the first place back on the freighter, back when life's largest concern was finding an island. He'd represented yet another mystery to solve, just one more puzzle to piece together. But it had become much more than Charlotte could have ever anticipated.
She could still remember the first time she'd spoken to him, his exact words and manner when he'd replied.
"Hey," she'd said, approaching the railing of the ship where he had been standing and looking lost in thought.
"Oh, hi." He had seemed startled, surprised almost as if he hadn't expected anyone to speak to him.
"I'm Charlotte," she'd supplied her name along with a friendly hand.
He'd accepted the hand gratefully and had give her his name as well. "Daniel Faraday."
Yes, she remembered every minute detail...It wasn't difficult to do when she was forced to relive the moment in a continuous loop. For what she'd come to find out was that Daniel faraday, once a brilliant Oxfordian professor, suffered from degenerative memory loss, a side effect of years of radiation. With every passing day, his memory worsened.
Still, Charlotte had remained hopeful. The more time she'd spent with him, the more she'd come to realize how special he was...and not just in terms of the mission. He didn't allow his situation to take precedence over himself or let it bother him--why worry about and fight the inevitable? More to the point (and Charlotte respected this about him), he never permitted the casually and consistently flung insults towards him bring him down in any manner. His positivism in the face of what amounted to despair in Charlotte's mind was incredible.
And so, as she found herself growing increasingly fond of the peculiar physicist, Charlotte found herself wondering what good could possibly come from any sort of relationship with Daniel, whether friendly or more so.
The reply that always answered her question was none.
But try as she might, her heart would not obey her mind...And she fell deeply and irrevocably in love with him. And even more remarkable was that he shared the sentiment.
It had made her want to laugh at the absurdity of it ("An anthropologist and physicist, who would've thought it?"), smile at the irony of it ("The last thing I expected to find on the island was, dare I say it, love! Of all things!"), and cry at the bitter inevitably and injustice of how it would all end ("And they lived unhappily ever after...can't say I'm not deserving of that.").
Despite it all, Charlotte was willing to give it a try...and so was Daniel. And for a good amount of time, it appeared that their love could stave off even a physical and incurable disability. They'd both begun to believe in the possibility of a happily ever after, that maybe--just maybe--their love could produce some sort of miracle...
But they were wrong.
It was a slow, subtle thing that began with Charlotte continually having to remind Daniel of simple, unimportant things. Nothing too concerning, even though the nagging fear lurked in the back of her mind. Then he started forgetting larger things--a name here, a birthday there, anniversaries and memorable events. It became apparent that he was getting worse, that their own carefully fostered antidote--their love for one another--was no longer strong enough to fight off his mind's ailment...But both refused to see, neither were willing to accept it.
Then it finally happened one day just as Charlotte had known it would.
He forgot her.
She'd spoken to him and he'd just looked at her. Stared at her with those familiar warm eyes, only no spark of recognition flashed within them. It was as if he had been looking at a complete stranger...and Charlotte had certainly felt just like one.
"I'm sorry," he had said in a quiet, apologetic tone of voice. It was as if somewhere he knew that he was suppose to know who she was, but was simply unable to access the information. "Do I know you?"
And it had hurt so much more than Charlotte would ever have been willing to admit.
She proceeded to tell him who she was and he remembered immediately...He remembered and they'd both laughed it off--but the mirthless action had been hollow, a laugh of temporary relief and unspoken dread.
When he'd fallen asleep that night, Charlotte had cried. She'd cried into the waiting silence, allowing the darkness to envelop her, and accepted what little comfort it had to offer. She knew what was coming--she knew that it was the beginning of the end. She was losing him...And there wasn't anything she could do to stop it.
The next few months seemed to pass by in a blur...and, by the end, Charlotte Lewis could no longer recognize herself. She had, for all intents and purposes, become the very thing that Daniel now saw her as: a virtual stranger. Even to herself. His memory had decayed to the point where he was lucky if he remembered his own name at times, let alone remembering the woman he once loved. Of course, it wasn't all bad--he had his good days every now and then, and he was still very much the man that Charlotte loved...But it was hard.
It was so hard.
Charlotte's mind soon became consumed with skepticism of the possibility of continuing her relationship with him, of remaining in such a masochistic state as she was in. How long would it be until she could take no more of it? Already it was difficult to look at him and know that when he met her gaze, he would not know who she was, how much she adored him, how much it hurt her that he didn't know. Could she continue living with a man who no longer remembered her, no longer possessed the mental capacity to love her as she loved him?
And even while she contemplated what were to her such traitorous thoughts, he would suddenly look at her with his gentle brown eyes and shy smile...And Charlotte would be reminded of why she'd fallen for him in the first place. Why she continued falling for him again and again and again...
And she would stay.
Because though it had only been a matter of time until he'd forgotten her, her heart knew that it was only a matter of time until he remembered her as well, contrary to anything the doctors had to say on the matter.
And for the brief moments when Daniel Faraday did remember Charlotte Lewis, it was worth it.
It was so worth it.