Claire fic - I'm a Sinner, I'm a Saint
Title: I'm a Sinner, I’m a Saint
Rating/warnings: PG (to be absolutely safe)
Spoilers: up to the end of season three.
Summary: A sort of companion piece to Between The Shades Of Grey... but from Claire’s POV. Funnily enough, I’ve found in writing this that more of the deadly sins apply to Claire than they do to Charlie! Shame I didn’t enter this for the seven deadly sins challenge at lostfichallenge instead eh? =P
Disclaimer: the character is inspired by Claire Littleton from Lost. The title is inspired by the lyrics from “Bitch” by Meredith Brooks.
~*~
Claire remembers with a great amount of detail the day that Sun mused that maybe they had all been sent to the island to be punished by fate for all the bad things they’d done in the past. At the time she had denied it, saying there was no such thing as fate, that nobody was punishing them.
Now it certainly feels like she was wrong all along.
She’s not a religious person - she never has been - but after Eko baptised her and Aaron both, she was surprised at how much lighter, how much cleaner she felt. Maybe the water he had blessed to make it holy really had cleansed her of all her sins? If so, then she needed to find herself a confessional or another holy man soon because they all seemed to be rushing back again to haunt her…
Envy
She tries not to be jealous but it’s hard sometimes.
The sand is hot beneath the towel she is sprawled on, her huge stomach unbalancing her posture so much that she can’t find any position that’s comfortable unless she’s leaning back against something. She tries not to get frustrated by her condition, she really does. But then Shannon waltzes past in one of those tiny skirts she favours, looking supple and lean and beautiful and Claire rubs her swollen stomach disconsolately and sighs.
Claire remembers being thin - barely. She’s been pregnant for so long she’s beginning to think that maybe she was never small in the first place. And she knows that after she’s had the baby her body is going to be just as bad if not worse. Loose skin around the stomach, sore swollen breasts...
She watches Shannon lounging about in her bikini, her beautiful bronzed skin glowing in the sun, and wishes that she too had the kind of skin that didn’t burn.
Sloth
She get’s tired easier nowadays - especially the more pregnant she gets. She feels bad for not pitching in, but she’s got to take care of herself right? Everyone else can do their bit for the group maybe, but she’s certainly not going to be much use on a hike.
She watches from her shelter -Kate is always hiking, always pitching in, running around like she’s got a boundless supply of energy. She never stays still for long. Jack’s like the energizer bunny on speed. Even Charlie has more get up and go than Claire has - although to be fair, his seems to be mainly nervous energy.
It makes her feel bad sometimes, that she’s not more useful, that she naps away the hottest part of the day while Charlie runs around after her and takes care of her as best he can. He’s sweet - almost too helpful sometimes - and while she’s not altogether sure that she deserves the attention he lavishes upon her, at least it means she doesn’t have to be so bothered with looking after herself.
Gluttony
She scoffs down half the jar of peanut butter without even realising as she chatters away happily to Charlie by the fire. He seems pleased by her obvious enthusiasm in his gift, not even asking if he can share it with her. What’s even better is that his gift has also brought a sharper memory of the day that Charlie brought her imaginary peanut butter. She remembers admitting to him that day that she’d always liked eating it straight out of the jar. It was a bad habit they both had in common - to both their mothers chagrin and to Charlie’s surprised delight that he wasn’t the only guilty party. He told Claire that his mother had chastised him on many an occasion, firstly about sticking dirty fingers into communal jars and secondly that to sit and glut yourself on an entire jar of peanut butter and not share was inexcusably rude and could be considered a sin.
On that initial occasion they had shared their peanut butter equally, but this time Claire hadn’t even given Charlie a second thought and it isn’t until the day after he brings her the real stuff that she realises just how much of a pig she was, eating so much so quickly in front of him. Feeling embarrassed, she offers him the final layer at the bottom of the jar at lunchtime but he gallantly refuses.
“Wouldn’t want to deprive a nursing mother of her favourite food now would I?” he says, quite cheerful. “You go ahead and eat the rest. I went through a lot of trouble to get it for you so you’d best enjoy it!”
Claire feels guilty then and so she tries to eat the rest of it as quickly as possible, scooping thick dollops into her mouth with her fingers. But it tastes like mud on her tongue and she ends up feeling quite sick. Rather than admit to Charlie that she doesn’t want it, she forces the final morsels down and before too long she’s vomiting at the tree line. When Charlie finds her he is aghast and rubs soothing circles on her back, apologising ceaselessly for forcing tainted peanut butter upon her.
Claire thinks that maybe if he’d just shared it with her in the first place then she wouldn’t have felt so horribly guilty.
Wrath
Claire has been lied to before - which is why she’s surprised at just how pissed she is at Charlie for not telling her about the statue, for continually pushing his company upon her, for stealing Aaron from her. She’s been smothered by his good intentions for so long that it got to the point where she just wanted to scream at him to back off. Physically she knows she doesn’t have the strength or stature to push him back - so her anger comes out in her sharply barbed tongue instead, in the words that she knows will hurt him the most.
And she knows exactly which ones will hurt him the most.
It’s a strange new sensation, raw and delicious - this being able to use her knowledge of a person to deliberately hurt them. Claire has never done it before but surprisingly, it feels good. Her time here on the island up until now has been almost solely defined by her interactions with Charlie and she feels strong enough now to step up and speak, and be heard by those around her. Being angry at Charlie gives her a rather savage pleasure to know that she can be just as malicious and selfish as the next person.
She’s sick of being a fucking pushover.
Pride
Since becoming a mother, Claire feels more empowered than she ever has before. She feels proud of herself for her ability to cope with the sort of everyday problems that aren’t really so everyday here in this place where nothing is normal and everything is ten times harder than it would be on the mainland.
The fact that she’s dealing with pretty much all of these problems without anyone’s help just helps to increase her smugness. If anyone had told her when she first got pregnant how easily (relatively speaking) she would slip into her role as a mother she would have probably laughed at them. But she’s gotten herself into a routine now. Feed the baby, burp him, put him down for a nap, do something else, baby wakes up, feed the baby, burp him, put him down for a nap, do something else…
She’s a good mother. She might not be perfect but who the hell is? She’s a good mother and she has a beautiful son and dammit, she’s proud of herself for it.
Lust
Sometimes when she kisses Charlie she’s scared at the emotions that come roaring into her heart and she has to remind herself not to get too eager or encourage him too much or she’ll end up doing something stupid and end up getting herself pregnant - again. The others might whisper that their relationship is more one of convenience than true romance but Claire knows that there’s something more to their relationship than just the sweet and shy exterior. She can tell that he wants to kiss her harder, let his touch linger on her bare skin, hold her close to his body when they sleep, curled together but separate at night. The fact that she knows this drives her crazier than she’d ever admit to him - she’s too shy and too terrified to let herself do something about it.
And from the way he acts around her, she’s beyond certain that he feels the same way.
So they tiptoe around each other, making ever smaller circles, drawing closer and closer to each other until there’s an accidental moment where his hand brushes the skin on her lower back and she shivers deliciously and his eyes darken and Claire tenses and for a split second she fully expects him to pin her against a tree and start tearing off her clothes…
One day it might happen but for now, Claire has to make do with daydreams that are more daring than she could ever be in real life. She made the mistake of succumbing to her lust once before and she’s not going to do that again and ruin the closest friendship, the best relationship that she’s had since Thomas walked out.
Greed
She should have known that it was all too good to be true. But then, if you take and take and take and don’t give anything back then eventually something you truly care about is going to be taken away from you.
In retrospect she sees just how much Charlie really gave to her. Unwavering loyalty and friendship, a reason to learn to trust again, a proper family, a father for her son, a true and steadfast love, protection not only for her physical body but also for her heart and mind…
And what did she ever give to him in return?
The amount of times she pushed him away for her own selfish reasons makes her feel sick. She never asked for the love or devotion he so readily gave to her - but the more he loved her, the more she needed to know that he wasn’t going to stop loving her. She couldn’t bear to have her heart broken so she distanced herself, giving him tiny gleans of hope that he clung to like a dying man, so desperately in need of her validation that he became utterly obsessed with keeping her happy and safe.
He gave up everything that he ever wanted in life - just for her. But that’s not the reason she cries for him every night. She knows that if he’d asked her, she wouldn’t have ever been able to do the same for him.