Echoes - Claire;post-finale - Oneshot
Title::..Echoes
Spoilers::..The End
Rating::..G
Genre::..Angst
Characters::..Claire and Aaron
Pairing::..CC
Author’s Note::..This is just a short little piece of what might have happened to Claire after being rescued. Usually every time I go to write a fic like this it gets way too complicated with me trying to explain Aaron’s relationship with both Claire and Kate, so I kept it short and simple and fixated on my eternal OTP: Charlie and Claire.
Summary::..After leaving the island Claire finds a unique way of keeping Charlie in her mind.
Anyone who passed Claire Littleton on the street might have given her left hand a second look, certain they had seen something which didn’t exist. This second look would prove to them they weren’t losing their mind, that pretty blonde girl did have a tattoo on her knuckles.
It didn’t add up, they might think. Claire appeared to be the perfect Australian girl with her blonde hair, bright blue eyes and friendly smile. Her look was a wholesome one as she walked in her flat sparkly shoes alongside her young son. Until one looked at her left hand and found ‘fate’ spelled out on her fingers in fat black letters. It didn’t suit her. It had to be a mistake from wilder teenage years, a decision she deeply regretted now.
In reality her first and only tattoo was fairly recent. It was less than three years old. But she was very proud of it and made no attempt to hide it, despite the disapproving looks she received from the other mother’s at Aaron’s school.
She had gone to get it done five months after finally leaving the island. She didn’t feel entirely comfortable spending the Oceanic compensation money on herself. Anything she bought with it would be tainted with the blood of all of the people who had lost their lives on that God forsaken island. She had never lived a wealthy life; she wouldn’t know what to do with that kind of money anyway. She gave it away to charity, allowing her to avoid having her life dominated by such a responsibility.
The tattoo was the exception. She wanted it to remind her of the island.
She had gone on her own, during the school day. She was used to the unrelenting buzzing and she had heard all of the horror stories from her time working at the parlour in Sydney.
It was the pain she hadn’t been prepared for. It was like jamming her fingers in the car door again-and-again. The sharp jolts of pain were impossible to get used to. The artist had tried to make small-talk with her, but she found it quite difficult to discuss her job as a checkout chick at that point in time.
The pain wasn’t worse than giving birth, but it definitely wasn’t a thing she would put herself through again, like childbirth. The only thing to do was grind her teeth together and remind herself it would be worth it.
The needle had been moved away from her fingers and it was complete. The sentiment Charlie had bandaged on his fingers in the first few hours after the crash was echoed in permanent ink.
It had been totally worth it.
Every time she took Aaron’s hand and saw it she thought of Charlie. At the end of each night when she reached out and turned out her bedside lamp her mind was triggered back to Charlie.
He may not have survived the island, but his life wasn’t forgotten as hers marched on.
The End.
Spoilers::..The End
Rating::..G
Genre::..Angst
Characters::..Claire and Aaron
Pairing::..CC
Author’s Note::..This is just a short little piece of what might have happened to Claire after being rescued. Usually every time I go to write a fic like this it gets way too complicated with me trying to explain Aaron’s relationship with both Claire and Kate, so I kept it short and simple and fixated on my eternal OTP: Charlie and Claire.
Summary::..After leaving the island Claire finds a unique way of keeping Charlie in her mind.
Anyone who passed Claire Littleton on the street might have given her left hand a second look, certain they had seen something which didn’t exist. This second look would prove to them they weren’t losing their mind, that pretty blonde girl did have a tattoo on her knuckles.
It didn’t add up, they might think. Claire appeared to be the perfect Australian girl with her blonde hair, bright blue eyes and friendly smile. Her look was a wholesome one as she walked in her flat sparkly shoes alongside her young son. Until one looked at her left hand and found ‘fate’ spelled out on her fingers in fat black letters. It didn’t suit her. It had to be a mistake from wilder teenage years, a decision she deeply regretted now.
In reality her first and only tattoo was fairly recent. It was less than three years old. But she was very proud of it and made no attempt to hide it, despite the disapproving looks she received from the other mother’s at Aaron’s school.
She had gone to get it done five months after finally leaving the island. She didn’t feel entirely comfortable spending the Oceanic compensation money on herself. Anything she bought with it would be tainted with the blood of all of the people who had lost their lives on that God forsaken island. She had never lived a wealthy life; she wouldn’t know what to do with that kind of money anyway. She gave it away to charity, allowing her to avoid having her life dominated by such a responsibility.
The tattoo was the exception. She wanted it to remind her of the island.
She had gone on her own, during the school day. She was used to the unrelenting buzzing and she had heard all of the horror stories from her time working at the parlour in Sydney.
It was the pain she hadn’t been prepared for. It was like jamming her fingers in the car door again-and-again. The sharp jolts of pain were impossible to get used to. The artist had tried to make small-talk with her, but she found it quite difficult to discuss her job as a checkout chick at that point in time.
The pain wasn’t worse than giving birth, but it definitely wasn’t a thing she would put herself through again, like childbirth. The only thing to do was grind her teeth together and remind herself it would be worth it.
The needle had been moved away from her fingers and it was complete. The sentiment Charlie had bandaged on his fingers in the first few hours after the crash was echoed in permanent ink.
It had been totally worth it.
Every time she took Aaron’s hand and saw it she thought of Charlie. At the end of each night when she reached out and turned out her bedside lamp her mind was triggered back to Charlie.
He may not have survived the island, but his life wasn’t forgotten as hers marched on.
The End.