Here I Stand

"I don't know if I can do this."

Claire peered over at Charlie standing in front of Aaron looking quite lost at what he was suppose to do. Claire sighed. "You unpin the clothe, take if off his, and hand it to me. Think you can do that?"

Charlie blew out some air. Rubbing his hands together, he replied, "If I can't then I'll die trying."

Aaron was two weeks old, and Charlie had wanted to do more than just walk him while Claire rested. He was determined to throw himself full into the unspoken role of father for the little guy. Claire had cocked a suspicious eyebrow when he announced he wanted to do more for her and the baby, but accepted the offer.

"I don't think I've heard of anyone dying from changing a baby's diaper," Claire remarked.

"You've never heard about it, because no one likes to let out that information. Very deadly stinkers these babies can give off."

Claire laughed, and continued her chore of washing clothes on the rock near the water source. She reached into the bag hitting her hand on something hard. "Ouch! What in the world is in here?" she mumbled, peeking into the bag.

"What's that?" Charlie said, not looking up from unpinning Aaron's clothe diaper.

"Charlie?" Claire's voice held an odd tone of confusion and disappointment. "Is this drugs?"

Charlie's head whipped up so fast his neck could have snapped. In Claire's hand was the broken statue of the Virgin Mary and a baggy of heroin. His heart leapt out of his throat, and Charlie felt as if he'd throw up. He had never wanted Claire to know about the drugs, especially after her memory of him accidentally informing her about his addiction had vanished.

"That's a-" he sputtered. "It's a-" He wanted to say mistake, but knew that wouldn't explain anything. He hadn't taken the drugs yet, though every night he stared at them as his hand twitched for a high.

But, one thing kept him from opening the baggy. He'd glance behind him to find Claire, murmuring incoherent words in her sleep. Aaron would be in his cradle, his face scrunched up. Every night, Charlie would put the drugs back in his bag and ride through another day.

"Where'd you get this?" Claire asked, dumbfounded.

Charlie tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "The plane Locke and Boone found had several crates of heroin stashed away in Virgin Mary statues. I took one when Sayid and I were searching for Aaron."

"But, why?"

Charlie hung his head, ashamed. "I've been addicted to drugs for four years. I gave Locke my stash the first week we were on the island then threw it in the fire when I chose to get clean."

Claire shook her head, upset. "If you chose to get clean then why did you take this?" She held up the baggy in disgust.

"I don't know. I just…wanted it. I haven't taken any yet," Charlie said, hurriedly.

Claire threw down the broken statue and baggy, and stepped over to pick up Aaron - pinning the baby's diaper back on. "I can't have you near my son."

Shock raced through Charlie's body. "But, Claire!" He grabbed her shoulder, but Claire jerked away. She fixed him with a anguished look.

"It would have been okay if you had told me you had an addiction but chose to get clean. But you deliberately brought drugs here, right here around my son. What if you decide you need a high then carry my son around and something happens to him because you were so strung out? I can't take that chance, Charlie!"

"Claire!" Charlie yelled at Claire's back as she stormed out the caves. He stood rooted to the ground, a torrent of pain shooting through his stomach. He thought Liam betraying him was horrible, but watching Claire walk away from him in anger was worse.