The Paradox - Chapter One
Title: The Paradox - Chapter One
Authors: falafel_fiction, sapphire_child and pacejunkie
Character’s: Charlie/Claire, Liam, Penny, cameos from most of the rest of the Losties and numerous flashback characters
Rating: PG
Summary: Charlie chases a Scottish man through the rainy streets of London, which leads him to a fateful meeting in an antique shop. Six years later, he starts to experience strange dreams about being stranded on a mysterious island. As he discovers more about this island and its occupants, he begins to realise that he is living out two different lives simultaneously. What will happen when these two existences finally collide?
Disclaimer: Lost doesn’t belong to any of the three of us (sadly). The Paradox theory belongs to cylune9 and pacejunkie.
Prologue, Chapter Two, Chapter Three
~*~
It had always been a habit of Charlie’s to write on his hands. Since he was a kid he had carried his trusty Sharpie with him at all times, ready to whip it out and scrawl on his skin if he really needed to remember something. The black ink would stain his hands for weeks following, ensuring that he didn’t forget. So Charlie could still recall the things he had written some six years ago on that fateful rainy day in London. After his unsettling encounter with the old woman in the antiques shop he had fumbled for the pen in his pocket and made a hurried list.
- Flight 815
- Penny
- Christmas Eve
Charlie was certain there had been other important factors in her mysterious prophecies, but he had been reeling with confusion and those were the only details that stood out in his memory. He had been particularly careful to take note of the flight number. The old lady had assured him that this plane was destined to crash on an unknown island. So since that meeting every time Charlie took a plane trip whilst touring with the band, he had always checked the number on his ticket. Just in case. For years nothing had come of his nagging superstition. He had almost forgotten about it. That was until he found himself standing in Sydney airport, his eyes flicking nervously between his boarding pass and the notice board.
Flight 815: Sydney to Los Angeles
He had always promised himself he wouldn’t take this flight. The trouble was, right now, he really needed to get on this plane. His manager had booked his ticket and was expecting his arrival in LA. He couldn’t possibly stay in Australia. He had left Liam’s house in a storm of righteous indignation so he really didn’t fancy the prospect of crawling back to his big brother with his tail between his legs. But that is what he would have to do if he didn’t board this flight. The sleazy tramp who had shared his heroin and his bed the night before had lifted the notes and traveller’s checks from his wallet. He couldn’t afford another stop in a hotel room. All he had now were his suitcase, his passport and a ticket for Flight 815.
Charlie took a breath and wondered if he really needed to make this choice. Maybe his management in LA would be prepared to pull some strings for him. He wandered over to the row of pay phones and called his agent, Eddie Darlton.
“Y’ello?” answered the typically smarmy American voice.
“It’s me, Eddie...” Charlie began timidly.
“Pace? Good to hear from you, buddy! Hey, doesn’t your plane leave soon?”
He swallowed. “Yeah, that’s kinda what I’m calling you about. Listen...is there any chance we could switch my ticket to a later flight? I’ve woken up feeling really lousy this morning. It might be a stomach bug I’ve picked up. I don’t think I can handle the long journey, you know...”
“You’re sick?” His voice was edged with cynicism. “Sick in what way, Pace? I’m only asking because you and your band-mates have assured me that your little heroin honeymoon is over. I don’t work with junkies, do you hear me? They’re more trouble than their worth. Oh and another thing...I don’t work with cry-babies either! So why don’t you just take some peptol bismol and get your ass on that plane?”
Charlie squirmed and shuffled his feet. The last of his drug stash was tucked into his shoe, rubbing hard against his toe. Eddie sounded seriously pissed now. Charlie could only imagine how much madder he would be when he showed up in the States without Driveshaft’s main draw-card.
“Listen Eddie, the truth is...” He swallowed, realising he was about to blow all his chances. “I couldn’t convince Liam to come with me. So it’s just me you’re getting -- the lesser known Pace brother. I...I guess this means the tour is off, right?”
There was silence on the other end of the line. Charlie closed his eyes, half expecting Eddie to hang up on him. Two phones away from him a black guy was having a hushed argument with his mother. He chewed his nails and waited.
“Okay Pace...” Eddie said at length. “Just listen to me and don’t sweat it. Truth is I like you. I think you’ve got some real underrated talent as a songwriter. So I’m gonna give you a break, kid. I’m gonna make you an offer you damn well can’t refuse. If you come to LA then you can have your tour dates. Yeah buddy, even without Liam! I’ve heard your brother is a pain in the butt to work with anyway. So from now on you’re gonna be the front man of this band - the singer, the lead guitarist, the one the girls are screaming for. We’ll make you a star, kiddo. And all you have to do is get yourself on that plane...flight 815.”
Charlie blinked in surprise and bewilderment. Eddie was offering him all his wildest dreams on a plate. This was an unbelievable stroke of luck. So why...why was there a feeling of dread creeping into his bones? He thought about the priests in the confessional booths who had always reminded him that it was his choice whether he gave into his temptations or not. Charlie had always wanted to make the right choices.
“Are you speechless, Pace?” Eddie sniggered. “I take it we have a deal then...”
Charlie chewed his lip. There came a call for passengers of Flight 815 to make their way to the departures lounge. Charlie watched as the people rose from their seats in the waiting room and filtered towards the terminal. There was a bald man in a wheelchair, an Asian woman clutching a white flower, a blonde girl in a pink jacket bickering loudly with the boy who walked beside her. A strange collection of travellers all bound for the same destination. He felt the old woman’s voice echoing through his mind and somehow he knew it was true.
Every one of these people would be killed.
“What’s it gonna be, Pace?” Eddie pressed him, impatiently.
Charlie opened his mouth, feeling like he was making the stupidest decision of his life.
“You’ll have to stick your deal up your arse, Darlton...”
With that, he slammed down the phone and left the airport.
~*~
Charlie’s nerves were feeling decidedly frayed after his conversation with Eddie, so by the time he managed to retrieve his bags and hail a taxi he was absolutely itching for a fix. He abstained only with the knowledge that he was going to have to swallow his pride and go to Liam for help and he was certain that his brother wouldn’t appreciate him turning up on his doorstep as high as a kite.
Despite feeling bitter about having to go crawling back to him again so soon after he’d stormed out, Charlie knew that with his lack of funds, it was the smartest thing to do. All he’d have to say is that he’d missed the flight, he needed a place to stay, and then in the morning he could catch another flight back to Los Angeles. No big deal.
Liam’s jaw dropped when he opened the door to find his younger brother standing there with his bags. Under other circumstances Charlie would have no doubt made some light hearted wisecrack about catching flies but when he opened his own mouth, his own tongue seemed to shrivel up and he merely gaped stupidly at his brother in turn, totally lost as to what he should say to him.
“Charlie?” Liam said finally, looking utterly gobsmacked.
“Hi,” Charlie finally croaked out, feeling about a million shades of awkward. After a long silence in which Liam stared at him, speechless, Charlie cleared his throat and tried again. “I uh…I missed my flight.”
Liam continued to stare for a moment and then he bent to pick up one of Charlie’s bags.
“Well,” he said. “Well come on in then.”
“Um…” Charlie hesitated and Liam finally looked past him and saw the taxi, still waiting in the driveway for the fare. Liam pinched the bridge of his nose for a long, agonising moment, and then he put Charlie’s bag down again.
“I’ll go get my wallet,” he said in a world weary sort of way.
The atmosphere at the dinner table was tense that night. Karen seemed inordinately delighted that Charlie had decided to stay and Megan was fascinated by her uncle as only a toddler can be with a new person. Liam however was tight lipped and every time he saw Charlie’s hands start to twitch he winced slightly.
After dinner, Karen took Megan up for a bath before bed whilst Liam and Charlie cleared the table.
“So are you going to stay?” Liam asked abruptly, not really looking at his brother as he stacked plates in the dishwasher.
“Probably not,” Charlie admitted quietly, trying his hardest to keep his hands steady as he picked up a glass and began to rinse it under the tap. “I would’ve stayed in a hotel only I lost all my travellers cheques and pretty much all of my Australian money.”
Liam was silent for a moment and then he smirked. “Who stole it from you?”
Charlie grinned wryly, realising that his brother had seen right through his lie. “Some girl I picked up in a bar.”
“Of course,” Liam said shrewdly but then he changed his tone. “Look, Charlie…”
“I’ll be gone tomorrow,” Charlie said quickly and Liam’s facial expression melted from one of expectant hope to disappointment. “I might need a hand with the taxi fare to the airport but that’s all. I’ll refund my ticket and buy another one and then I’ll be out of your hair for good.”
“I didn’t know that you could refund plane tickets if you missed the flight,” Liam frowned.
“Well,” Charlie invented wildly. “I checked with the blokes at Oceanic and they said that they should be able to do it. It wasn’t my fault that I missed the plane - it was just an unlucky coincidence.”
Liam was silent and Charlie sighed.
“Look,” he apologised. “I’m sorry I had to come back again but…”
“I just thought you might’ve reconsidered,” Liam said quietly, not meeting his eyes. “I thought that maybe you were going to let me help you after all.”
Charlie was silent and Liam shook himself.
“Never mind I guess. I mean if you don’t want to then I can’t…” Liam hesitated for a moment and then sighed before changing the subject rather abruptly. “Charlie…can you do one thing for me?”
“Sure,” Charlie said genially, expecting his brother to tell him to be careful, to look after himself when he went back to America. He could easily promise that to him even whilst knowing full well that he wasn’t going to follow through with it. Hell, he’d promised Liam more than once that he would get help but he hadn’t followed through then either. It was altogether too easy to make people believe that you really wanted to get better. “Anything Liam - I owe you anyway.”
“It’s just…while you’re staying here…” Liam said tentatively. “I don’t want you using that stuff in my house.”
Charlie deflated slightly. He hadn’t expected Liam to say that - he’d almost been waiting for his older brother to express concern over his wellbeing. Even if Charlie ignored his advice, it was nice to know that despite everything, his brother really did still care about him.
“I won’t,” he muttered, carefully moving his feet so that the shoe he’d hidden his stash in was behind the other one. “I don’t even have any on me,” he lied. “I used it all last night.”
Liam eyed him sharply for a moment but then he nodded. “Okay mate. Sorry to be so suspicious but I just don’t want that stuff in my house. Not near my family. Especially Meghan.”
“Of course,” Charlie said, squirming guiltily and trying desperately not to. “I understand.”
Liam smiled then and grasped Charlie’s shoulder firmly.
“Come on,” he said. “You’ll be in for a rough night if you haven’t fixed since yesterday. You go have a shower and get yourself settled in - I’ll get you some painkillers and a glass of water. An early night should do you some good.”
~*~
Charlie’s guilt at having lied to his brother about the heroin was enough to make him abstain from having a fix before he went to bed. Instead, he had a long, hot shower and thought very seriously about how the hell he was going to get back to Los Angeles again.
He hadn’t just lied to Liam about the drugs because he felt bad - it was also because he was seriously considering on-selling them in order to buy himself his plane ticket home. Oceanic had made it very clear that he wasn’t able to refund his ticket and in the end he had just given up and stormed out. Now however, he was beginning to feel a little panicky. He didn’t really have a lot of heroin left - just the baggie in his shoe and another, slightly smaller one in his guitar case. Even if he amped the price up he still probably wouldn’t be able to get enough money to get him back to Los Angeles, let alone England.
Charlie swallowed down the aspirin that had been left on his bedside table dry and then slipped under the covers with a sigh. He would sort everything out in the morning. For now he was just glad to have a place to stay and a bed to sleep in - even though his relationship with his brother was a bit strained and his withdrawal symptoms weren’t making him feel all that terrific.
Despite his reservations about the strength of the painkillers that he had been given, the aspirin actually seemed to help a little after a while. After several hours of lying awake and worrying, Charlie finally fell into a fitful sleep that slowly became deeper and deeper until...
He was in a tiny cubicle, an airplane bathroom he thought, bent over the toilet bowl with a baggie in his hand, the rush of the drug in his veins. It felt like some demented game where you had to drop something in the exact centre of the toilet. Charlie’s hand shook as he tried to get the drugs centred enough to drop it into the bowl and not onto the floor.
And then HE WAS AIRBORNE.
The world was chaotic, the door fell open and he was on the floor…no wait…and he rolled aside, a millisecond away from being crushed by a food cart and he was up and running, slipping, tripping, falling over his own feet and the whole bloody plane was shaking and what the hell was going on?!
An oxygen mask over his nose, the whole damn thing shaking and creaking and breaking apart as he watched in abject terror and then the world was on fire as he crawled through the sand, as he slipped and stumbled and fell to his knees again…
A heavily accented voice came from a dark stranger beside him, “You’d think they would have come for us by now.”
Charlie looked down at his fingers and saw the word FATE penned there on scraggly pieces of tape and then he was walking. It was cold and dark out tonight - his hoodie was zipped up all the way to his chin as he stumbled around, his shoes sliding against the sand and his eyes scanning his surroundings.
There were fires. Lots of small fires (campfires he thought) with people clustered around them. And through the darkness he could just make out piles of twisted wreckage, sharp metallic shapes, deformed and bent and broken. Above him was a dark night sky, scattered with a thousand sparkling lights - stars.
And then, right before him he saw something that was impossible.
Or rather, he saw someone who was impossible. It was a girl - quite probably the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He stopped and stared, frozen in his amazement. She was practically radiant in the firelight, her long blonde hair sparkled and her skin glowed as she casually pulled a blanket over her stomach...
It was stretched tight like a drum, round and swollen and wonderful. She couldn’t have been any less than eight months along - far too pregnant to be travelling on a plane. Charlie’s breath caught in his throat and he began to walk towards her. His head felt light, almost as though his brain was two steps behind his body. Close to, he could see the swell of her belly even more clearly (even beneath the blanket), he could see the waves and wispy curls in her hair and the ugly red scrape on her chin that marred her otherwise porcelain skin...
“This must be a dream,” he tried to say, wonderingly. Instead he heard himself greet her and offer her a blanket. The night spun dizzyingly around him and suddenly he was sitting with her, warming his hands over the fire.
“So,” he heard himself say to her. His hearing seemed somewhat muted within the dream, like listening to somebody talking underwater. “First plane crash?”
At these words, Charlie felt a cold shudder ripple through his body.
The girl smiled sarcastically at him. “What gave it away?”
“Ah you can always spot the newbies,” he joked and despite himself, Charlie felt a feeling of warmth rush through him when the girl laughed. “We’re gonna be okay, you know.”
The night gave another dizzying swirl then, and he realised that her hand was in his, soft and warm as he shook it.
“Nice to meet you, Charlie,” The girl was saying to him, smiling as she looked into his eyes. She had pale eyes he noticed, but the dark rings around the irises showed up the blue in them even in the muted red glow from the fire.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he returned.
And then he opened his eyes with a sharp intake of breath.
For a long moment Charlie simply lay there, staring at (but not really seeing) the ceiling. Closing his eyes, he recalled each feature he remembered from the dream girl - from the line of her cheekbones to her sweet smile. Her face came to him easily - it almost seemed burnt into his memory - and he didn’t think that he would have been able to get those eyes of hers out of his mind even if he tried.
Finally rolling onto his side, Charlie surveyed the alarm clock with only a mild amount of interest. It was still early - early enough that Liam might not be up yet. He crawled out of bed, still feeling a bit fuzzy in the head from his dream. Normally when he was in withdrawal his dreams were much worse than that. Granted the plane crash bit had been nerve wracking after his experience the previous day but the bit with the girl had been pretty damn nice.
He found himself thinking about her voice as he stumbled downstairs in a daze, wrapping one of Liam’s spare bathrobes around himself as he did so. He’d always liked Australian accents - not the really broad ones - more like the one that the girl in his dream had, softer and somehow gentler. Her mouth had formed lovely shapes around all her vowels as she spoke - especially when she had said his name.
He was still reminiscing on his dream when, to his intense surprise, he realised that he could actually hear an Australian accent speaking out loud - a girl too - from within the kitchen. Creeping in from the direction of the formal dining room, Charlie realised that Liam was drinking a cup of tea as he watched the morning news on a small television set in the corner. Charlie felt somewhat disappointed. Somehow he’d hoped that maybe he was still asleep and that the girl from his dream might have been downstairs in the kitchen waiting for him.
“What’s happening in the world this morning?” he asked out loud in an attempt to shake himself out of the realm of his subconscious.
Liam jumped and whirled around, a hand over his heart.
“Charlie!” he let out a relieved breath of air. “Bloody hell! You scared me.”
“Sorry,” Charlie said, peering past his brother at the television. There was a female reporter onscreen looking very serious, the banner behind her saying ‘Plane Goes Missing in Pacific’. Charlie abruptly pushed past his brother and turned the volume up as high as it could go.
“…lost radio contact approximately four hours into a routine flight from Sydney to Los Angeles,” the presenter was saying in a very serious voice. “It is unknown yet where exactly the plane is and if it has - indeed - crash landed. All we know at this point is that it has been lost somewhere in the Pacific Ocean and that the plane is unreachable via radio contact. Oceanic Airlines released a statement early this morning saying that they have already mounted an extensive sea and air search which will hopefully recover the plane and all of its passengers as safely and as quickly as possible.”
The screen flicked back to the main presenters and Charlie blinked.
“Thank you for bringing us that breaking story Natalie,” the woman said before turning to her co-host. “Hopefully they’ll be able to find all those poor souls from flight 815 as quickly as possible.”
“Well I certainly hope so Melissa,” the man returned before he turned back to the cameras and signed off with, “We’ll be right back with more news in just a moment.”
Charlie turned the television set off with trembling fingers and then leant unsteadily against the kitchen bench, trying to slow his rapidly beating heart.
“Was that…” Liam began tentatively and then cleared his throat before trying again. “Wasn’t that…your flight Charlie? Oceanic 815?”
Charlie nodded mutely, still staring at the blank television screen, dumbstruck with horror.
“Bloody hell,” Liam ran a hand through his hair and then repeated himself. “Bloody hell!”
“I know,” Charlie murmured blankly.
“But just…” Liam shook his head in amazement and then grabbed Charlie’s shoulders. “Bloody sodding hell Charlie! You’re lucky that you missed that flight!
“Well…” Charlie said evasively. “I didn’t really…miss my flight yesterday.” Liam stared at him, not comprehending. “I didn’t get on it on purpose.”
Liam’s jaw dropped in amazement. “Why not?”
“I…” Charlie paused, wondering if he should tell Liam about the antique store lady’s premonition from all those years ago. But looking into his brother’s over bright eyes he somehow knew that it would be too much for him to take in right now. Instead, he said, “Something just didn’t feel right about it.”
“Well you were right,” Liam said, his voice thick. “You might’ve died when it crashed if you’d been…if you hadn’t…”
“I know.”
“Jesus…” Liam ran a hand through his hair and then, to Charlie’s great surprise, he wrapped his arms around his younger brother in a fierce hug. “I’m sorry I yelled at you yesterday mate. I never would have been able to forgive myself if the last thing I’d said to you was…”
“Don’t think about it Li,” Charlie said gruffly, but he could feel that his body trembling - and not just from his withdrawal. “I didn’t get on it, I’m okay.”
“Are you still going to go back to LA?” Liam asked, finally pulling back.
Charlie’s stomach flooded with dread at the mere thought of getting on a plane again - he remembered the scream of metal on metal and the heat of the fire from his dream and found himself shaking his head, his hands trembling in earnest now.
“You’ll stay?” Liam pressed, hardly daring to believe. “You’ll let me help you?”
“Well there’s nothing for me back in America now,” Charlie managed to say. “Eddie offered me a solo career and everything and I still couldn’t bring myself to get on the plane.”
“Maybe…” Liam paused and a smile began to creep onto his face. “Maybe you weren’t meant to get on that plane because you’re finally ready to do something different with your life.” Charlie nodded slowly, considering his brothers words. “Maybe you’re ready to move on.”
“Maybe I am,” Charlie said but then abruptly buried his face in his hands. “Christ Liam…is it really worth it? I feel bloody awful already and it’s only been a day since I’ve fixed.”
“It’s worth it,” Liam said seriously, squeezing Charlie’s shoulder. “Like I said yesterday, the clinics here are really good. Go have a shower and get dressed, I’ll drive you down first thing today and we’ll get you all set up okay?”
“Okay,” Charlie mumbled into his hands and then turned to leave. Liam was rinsing his coffee mug when Charlie turned back to him again. “Liam?”
“Yeah?”
“I lied yesterday,” Charlie said guiltily and Liam looked up from the sink in surprise. “I couldn’t get a refund for my ticket. I was going to use my remaining stash to pay my way back to LA. I’ve still got a baggie upstairs in my shoe and another stash in my guitar case.”
For a moment, Charlie thought that Liam might get angry at him - his eyes certainly flashed with barely hidden menace. But then he merely nodded, tight lipped. “You haven’t used?”
“Not here,” Charlie promised. “I wouldn’t do that to you - not after you asked me. But Liam,” his older brother was listening intently to every word that he said. Charlie took a deep breath. “I need you to help me get rid of it. Before I try to…”
“Have one last fix,” Liam finished grimly. “Come on then. We’ll flush it - together.”
The baggies swirled around the porcelain bowl in an erratic dance as Charlie and Liam watched - the former with a heavy sense of dread upon him. He held himself still, urging himself not to lunge at the bowl, to pluck out the waterlogged bags for one final, blissful hit...
There was a gurgle as they disappeared and then, suddenly, there was a warm weight across his upper back - Liam had put an arm around his shoulders.
“Well done baby brother,” he said quietly. “I always knew you could do it.”
Charlie trembled with the loss as he glanced sideways at his brother. He felt pathetic - but then he’d seen Liam do some pretty radical things to get a fix. If anyone would understand the sense of despair and panic that was setting in, it would be his brother.
“Let’s get going shall we?” Liam prodded gently, steering him firmly out of the bathroom. “The sooner we can get you down to the clinic the better you’ll feel.”
“Yeah,” Charlie agreed with a shaky sigh. “Yeah okay.”