Hold Me When I'm Scared, Love Me When I'm Wrong//Lost//Daniel&Charlotte//PG
Title: Hold Me When I'm Scared, Love Me When I'm Wrong
Fandom: LOST
Characters/Pairing: Daniel/Charlotte
Rating: PG
Warnings: Season 4.
Summary: Daniel and Charlotte are forced to deal with the consequences of their actions.
Table/Prompt: Hurt&Comfort/Hold Me
A/N: Written for mission_insane. This goes along with the assumption that everyone, save for the Oceanic Six, were killed on the island.
He wasn't entirely sure how it had transgressed to this point. He couldn't possibly comprehend how the events of the past days had unraveled before them, leaving a trail of death and carnage in their wake. He was uncertain of whether they had been on the winning side...or if they had been the ones whom had lost. Nothing was clear; everything had been caught up in the tangled web of lies that they had woven from the start.
But none of that mattered now--not here. Not in this moment.
He was holding her close to him--as she wept. He wasn't sure how he knew how to hold her, what to say, and just where to touch to soothe her...But he did. Perhaps it was because he knew her pain, shared it. Though it wasn't a physical pain, it hurt just as much, ran just as deep if not deeper. For they had gone through the same dreadful event, had helped along the heinous act of murdering innocents (even if they hadn't been aware of what they'd been helping along at the time), and their guilt was one in the same.
Daniel stroked Charlotte's ember hair as tenderly as he could; she reacted in turn by clinging to him as if she were drowning and he was her life preserver, the only thing separating her from the veil of death and insanity. And maybe he was, to a certain extent. He wouldn't let her go, refused to let her sink to the depths of despair that threatened to overwhelm them even now, as it remained on the periphery of their minds.
"God," she breathed. "What have we done, Daniel? What have we done?"
What had they done? It was a question that burned in their minds, providing their own personal purgatory on Earth. And the water that they had used to wash the blood from their hands could not extinguish the flames of guilt, of comprehension of wrong-doing that scorched their souls. No amount of absolution or repentance seemed capable of cleansing them of their newly acquired sins.
"We didn't have a choice," he murmured against her hair.
And for a moment, they both believed that. Because it absolved them of their crime. Because it made the weight of their guilt a little easier to bear. Because they would rather believe it--a lie--than the horrible truth.
The truth that quite clearly stated that they were murderers.
Sure, they had not actually pulled the triggers themselves...but they had not done anything to prevent the needless bloodshed, either. They had stood idly by, silent as the dead that had fallen around them. And when it was over, they got on the helicopter and went back to the boat. And that was that. Game over.
But it hadn't ended there; they thought it would--hoped it would--but it hadn't. The terrors that they'd witnessed, the atrocities that they'd watched their colleagues commit, lingered inside their brains. It was as if the dead were avowing to make them suffer as much as they had suffered at the hands of their killers. In a way, Daniel thought it was sort of fitting--the dead shouldn't be forgotten. But that didn't mean that it wasn't difficult to deal with...especially when night after night, both he, Charlotte, and Frank were forced to deal with the nightmares. Miles didn't seem altogether bothered by anything, but Daniel had noticed him talking to himself before...as if he were talking to someone else. Someone unseen.
Back to the point, however, it was the act of having one such nightmare that had brought Daniel to check on Charlotte. She'd been all but screaming in her sleep, as if something or someone was hurting her. Daniel knew it wasn't his place, but he'd gone and woken her up, unable to stand seeing her in such a agonized state. For the few seconds after he'd shaken her out of her nightmare, she'd stared at him as if she weren't really seeing him at all, her eyes holding the most horror-stricken look he'd ever seen. It had been...unnerving, to say the least.
Charlotte now moved away from him, abrupt in her actions, to stand at the other side of her enclosed quarters. Daniel found the whole thing a bit ironic...Here they were right back on the freighter, right back to where it all began. It was almost as if they were back at the start altogether. He desperately wished that was so. Because if it had been, he could be able to save them this time...or so he'd like to think.
He stood as well, unsure of whether he should approach her again or not. Her body language was stiff, defensive as she had her arms wrapped around herself. But Daniel knew better. Charlotte was hurting--she felt responsible for all the death that had occurred. She was strong (a far stronger person than Daniel thought he, himself, was) but she was still human. And she still reacted as a human would in the aftermath of such an atrocious event.
Cautiously, he moved towards her.
"Charlotte," he whispered, as if he were afraid that any sudden movements or loud sounds would cause her to bolt.
She regarded him with an ambivalent expression. Opening her mouth, as if to send him away with some crude remark, she apparently thought better of it and closed it. It was with some difficulty that he was able to hold her gaze, read the unspoken request in their darkened blue depths.
Daniel wrapped his arms around her, albeit a bit awkwardly, and she did not struggle or attempt to pull away. Instead, she buried her tear-stained face in the crook of his neck. There was a sort of acceptance in the action that Daniel was only able to recognize on a subconscious level. Charlotte was done suffering in silence; she was ready to start healing once the pain, that came with the knowledge of what had really happened to the survivors of Oceanic 815, subsided.
And she wouldn't be doing it alone, either. Daniel would be right there with her. He would share in her happiness and in her sadness. And when she needed someone to hold her, to support her, and to reassure her that everything was going to work out fine...He would be there, too. Always.
Fandom: LOST
Characters/Pairing: Daniel/Charlotte
Rating: PG
Warnings: Season 4.
Summary: Daniel and Charlotte are forced to deal with the consequences of their actions.
Table/Prompt: Hurt&Comfort/Hold Me
A/N: Written for mission_insane. This goes along with the assumption that everyone, save for the Oceanic Six, were killed on the island.
He wasn't entirely sure how it had transgressed to this point. He couldn't possibly comprehend how the events of the past days had unraveled before them, leaving a trail of death and carnage in their wake. He was uncertain of whether they had been on the winning side...or if they had been the ones whom had lost. Nothing was clear; everything had been caught up in the tangled web of lies that they had woven from the start.
But none of that mattered now--not here. Not in this moment.
He was holding her close to him--as she wept. He wasn't sure how he knew how to hold her, what to say, and just where to touch to soothe her...But he did. Perhaps it was because he knew her pain, shared it. Though it wasn't a physical pain, it hurt just as much, ran just as deep if not deeper. For they had gone through the same dreadful event, had helped along the heinous act of murdering innocents (even if they hadn't been aware of what they'd been helping along at the time), and their guilt was one in the same.
Daniel stroked Charlotte's ember hair as tenderly as he could; she reacted in turn by clinging to him as if she were drowning and he was her life preserver, the only thing separating her from the veil of death and insanity. And maybe he was, to a certain extent. He wouldn't let her go, refused to let her sink to the depths of despair that threatened to overwhelm them even now, as it remained on the periphery of their minds.
"God," she breathed. "What have we done, Daniel? What have we done?"
What had they done? It was a question that burned in their minds, providing their own personal purgatory on Earth. And the water that they had used to wash the blood from their hands could not extinguish the flames of guilt, of comprehension of wrong-doing that scorched their souls. No amount of absolution or repentance seemed capable of cleansing them of their newly acquired sins.
"We didn't have a choice," he murmured against her hair.
And for a moment, they both believed that. Because it absolved them of their crime. Because it made the weight of their guilt a little easier to bear. Because they would rather believe it--a lie--than the horrible truth.
The truth that quite clearly stated that they were murderers.
Sure, they had not actually pulled the triggers themselves...but they had not done anything to prevent the needless bloodshed, either. They had stood idly by, silent as the dead that had fallen around them. And when it was over, they got on the helicopter and went back to the boat. And that was that. Game over.
But it hadn't ended there; they thought it would--hoped it would--but it hadn't. The terrors that they'd witnessed, the atrocities that they'd watched their colleagues commit, lingered inside their brains. It was as if the dead were avowing to make them suffer as much as they had suffered at the hands of their killers. In a way, Daniel thought it was sort of fitting--the dead shouldn't be forgotten. But that didn't mean that it wasn't difficult to deal with...especially when night after night, both he, Charlotte, and Frank were forced to deal with the nightmares. Miles didn't seem altogether bothered by anything, but Daniel had noticed him talking to himself before...as if he were talking to someone else. Someone unseen.
Back to the point, however, it was the act of having one such nightmare that had brought Daniel to check on Charlotte. She'd been all but screaming in her sleep, as if something or someone was hurting her. Daniel knew it wasn't his place, but he'd gone and woken her up, unable to stand seeing her in such a agonized state. For the few seconds after he'd shaken her out of her nightmare, she'd stared at him as if she weren't really seeing him at all, her eyes holding the most horror-stricken look he'd ever seen. It had been...unnerving, to say the least.
Charlotte now moved away from him, abrupt in her actions, to stand at the other side of her enclosed quarters. Daniel found the whole thing a bit ironic...Here they were right back on the freighter, right back to where it all began. It was almost as if they were back at the start altogether. He desperately wished that was so. Because if it had been, he could be able to save them this time...or so he'd like to think.
He stood as well, unsure of whether he should approach her again or not. Her body language was stiff, defensive as she had her arms wrapped around herself. But Daniel knew better. Charlotte was hurting--she felt responsible for all the death that had occurred. She was strong (a far stronger person than Daniel thought he, himself, was) but she was still human. And she still reacted as a human would in the aftermath of such an atrocious event.
Cautiously, he moved towards her.
"Charlotte," he whispered, as if he were afraid that any sudden movements or loud sounds would cause her to bolt.
She regarded him with an ambivalent expression. Opening her mouth, as if to send him away with some crude remark, she apparently thought better of it and closed it. It was with some difficulty that he was able to hold her gaze, read the unspoken request in their darkened blue depths.
Daniel wrapped his arms around her, albeit a bit awkwardly, and she did not struggle or attempt to pull away. Instead, she buried her tear-stained face in the crook of his neck. There was a sort of acceptance in the action that Daniel was only able to recognize on a subconscious level. Charlotte was done suffering in silence; she was ready to start healing once the pain, that came with the knowledge of what had really happened to the survivors of Oceanic 815, subsided.
And she wouldn't be doing it alone, either. Daniel would be right there with her. He would share in her happiness and in her sadness. And when she needed someone to hold her, to support her, and to reassure her that everything was going to work out fine...He would be there, too. Always.