Paces

Chapter Three

Summary: Patrick deals with the news of the plane crash.

Author's Note: I don't really have an author's note for this one, other than that this is the last chapter. Please review and tell me what you think!

Patrick set the phone down on the table, feeling his eyes fill with tears for the 50th time that day. Sinjin had just called to make sure he knew about Charlie and the plane crash, but he had read about it hours ago. Neither of them had gotten a hold of Liam, and Patrick felt he couldn't even comprehend the grief his friend must have been going through.

Standing up, he swaggered out the front door of his beach house, walking along the shore and feeling the gentle water splashing across his bare feet. He breathed deeply as he reached a large rock, maybe 5 feet tall, which he climbed on top of, sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest.

He stared at the waves bobbing up and down on the ocean's surface, some white, and the closer ones pure blue. As he watched, he thought of all the times Charlie and Liam and Sinjin had come to visit him here. He could almost see Charlie standing with the water up to his knees, motioning for Patrick to come and join him.

After a moment, Charlie became blurry, and tired tears fell from Patrick's eyes, wishing that Charlie could actually be there in front of him. He missed him now, more than ever. Knowing that he would never come back, it felt as though someone was strangling him, removing all the air from him lungs and letting him slip slowly to the ground, where no one would see him or help him back up.

Charlie would have, he thought. But Charlie's gone... Patrick once again stood on the sand, his mind going almost in slow motion, not understanding – not wanting to believe that someone could disappear that quickly. Charlie hadn't deserved death. Patrick sat down and let his head drop back, hitting the side of the rock. He closed his eyes as more tears fell, creating streaks along his face.

He reopened his eyes and looked at his surroundings. No, this wasn't right. Where was he? He was lying on his back in the middle of a jungle, the sun beating down on him relentlessly. He could hear the ocean in the distance – If I could only reach it... he thought desperately. Maybe I'd know where I was.

Scrambling to his feet, Patrick jogged in the direction he heard the waves crashing. As he ran, the hard dirt and twigs beneath his feet became soft sand and he raised his head to see all sorts of people rushing around on the beach, a large, broken plane sitting not too far away from him.

Patrick ran into the commotion, hoping to help. He saw a man in a suit doing CPR on a woman who was lying on her back, unmoving. A pregnant woman sat screaming on the sidelines, and everything seemed to be swirling, going almost too fast for Patrick to make all the details out.

Suddenly, everything stopped. Patrick stared ahead, his frightened face quickly transforming into an overjoyed one, despite the terrible situation. Charlie stood before him, surveying the other survivors of the crash as they ran and shrieked. He seemed relatively calm – it had never been Charlie's style to get too worked up about things.

Patrick ran toward him, yelling his name at the top of him lungs. Charlie didn't respond, apparently not hearing his friend above the roar of the still-running engine. Patrick stopped dead in his tracks as a large piece of burning metal crashed down right where Charlie had been standing.

"NO! Charlie!" he screamed, falling to his knees.

Patrick sat bolt upright, his face covered in sweat. After a moment, he remembered his dream. It dawned on him suddenly, unexpectedly, that maybe, just maybe, Charlie had a chance.

Charlie was out there somewhere, holding on by a thread. Unless that hunk of metal hit him, the cynical part of his brain reminded him. But that must have just been the dream. Charlie was alive – he could feel it.

But then, even if he was alive, would he have the strength to make it home? At least he wouldn't be on his own. No, Charlie would never be on his own. There would always be someone to take care of him, whether he was stranded on an island, or with the people who loved him at home.

With a feeling of relief, Patrick went back inside. Charlie was going to make it. Charlie would come home. If only the other band members could have the same assurance. As he walked, the waves rushed against the shore, erasing the footmarks left in the sand behind him.

The End

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