Title- Hangman
Rating- M, but I think I could've gotten away with a T
Pairing- Charlie/Claire
Summary- Only Charlie can cure Claire's insomnia
Warnings- Mild sex
Status- Completed after many hours of writing
Disclaimer- I don't own Lost. Big surprise there, I'm sure.
A/N- I have had the idea for this story for so long, at least over a year. But the end result is completely different then I ever imagined. In my mind, this story was about 2000 words long focusing only on the last scene of this story. Somehow, it developed into a nearly 7000 word story with the ending hardly the main focus of the story. And yet, I think I like it. In fact, I love this story. I don't know how many hours it took to write, but I feel that it was definitely worth it. Although, I'm still not sure if I pulled off the ending. Seeing as the last scene was the basis for the story, you would think that it would a huge epic thing, and in my mind it was, but I don't think I nailed it. Anyway, let me know what you think, feedback would be greatly appreciated.

Has anyone else noticed that on the show, Charlie is always saying that England is an island, when it's actually just part of an island?

Don't scroll down to the bottom if you don't want to spoiled. It's rather obvious and it would sort of wreck the story if you know the ending.

And is it just me, or does anyone else hear the song When You Were Young by The Killers playing at the end of the story?

Hangman

Life on a deserted island was surprisingly hectic, despite the whole deserted thing. For some reason, Claire had always thought that living on an island with no one else would be the ultimate relaxation. Anywhere remote where there would be quiet and peace of mind. Reality, however, proved her wrong. Or maybe it was just this particular island. After all, of all the islands they could have crashed on, they crashed on one with a smoke monster in the jungle, a crazy, baby-stealing French lady, strange hatches from an abandoned science experiment (is it abandoned?), animals that don't belong on a deserted island, and a tribe of people who have a habit of kidnapping. Somehow Claire didn't think that was the norm for abandoned islands.

But even without the island's certain eccentricities, Claire still would have had her hands full. Taking care of Aaron was a full time job. She had expected that he would require around the clock care, but she hadn't realized just how taxing it would be on herself. She spent most of her days half asleep, and at night she was lucky if she got a full hour of sleep between Aaron, the sudden apocalyptic thunderstorms and the menacing growl of the monster that always sounded like an empty stomach aching for something -- or someone -- to eat. Her severe lack of sleep left her cranky and irritable most days. However, she was mistakenly titled the optimist of the island. She was always expected to have a smile on her face and encouragement on her lips, when she really felt like shouting obscenities at the top of her lungs and then going to sleep for a week.

Her only source of relief was Charlie. Every day he helped her with Aaron, cleaning nappies, playing peek-a-boo, singing softly to lull him to sleep, and always teaching him something, from how to change a string on a guitar to the six wives of Henry the Eighth. And he would always take Aaron for at least three hours to let Claire get some shut-eye. She appreciated him more than he knew, but could never put words to her gratitude. Their relationship centered on Aaron, on caring for him and giving him the best childhood possible on a deserted island. Maybe he would never get a full education or get to sleep on a bed, but on the island he had a mother and a father, as well as innumerable aunts and uncles, and that's more than he would have had in the real world.

But Claire's favorite part of the day was when Aaron was sleeping, all the nappies were clean, all the water bottles full, all the fish and boar needed for the week caught, the monster quiet in his hiding spot somewhere deep in the jungle, the sun slowly dying in the west, leaving only a bloody trail, the small fires flaring to life in front of the tents, the air cooling and night falling. It was at this time that Charlie and Claire finally had time for each other. To talk to each other about their childhood, to tell their likes and dislikes, to exchange silly little stories, to share their hurts, to discover the other person, at the same time discovering themselves.

"This island needs a name," Charlie declared one night.

"A name?" Claire asked, her head resting on his stomach as they laid on the sand and looked up at the velvety sky and shining stars.

"Yeah. All islands have names. England, Austrailia, Hawaii... Besides, without a name, how will our family know where to send our mail?"

Claire giggled. She loved and hated how Charlie had that affect on her. "I dunno. Don't we just call it The Island?"

Charlie sighed dramatically, "You are missing the principle here, Claire. If we went with your logic Aaron would be called The Baby. No, it needs a proper name."

Claire chewed on her bottom lip for a bit, feinting thinking of a name. "I don't know," she said after a few seconds.

"I can tell you thought so hard about that," Charlie teased. "It's amazing that Aaron ever got a name. Granted, it did take you about a month."

"Hey, it was only four days! Besides, you can't criticize me about names. After all, you called Aaron Turniphead," Claire teased back with a scoff.

"Better than calling him The Baby," Charlie said in a very audible undertone.

Pretending to be offended, Claire lightly hit his stomach with the back of her hand.

"So, about that name for this island..." Charlie said, ignoring her abuse of himself.

"What do you call an island?" Claire pondered aloud. "I mean, who thought of calling it Austrailia or Hawaii..."

"Or England," Charlie added, always eager to mention his homeland.

"England isn't an island, Charlie," Claire corrected him.

Charlie scoffed, "Uh, I lived there my whole life, Claire. I think I would know if it's an island."

Claire just rolled her eyes at him, smiling dispite herself. "Not an island," she whispered.

"Is too," Charlie whispered back.

"I thought we were supposed to be naming this island," Claire reminded him.

"Well, you proved to be useless in that area," Charlie answered.

"I haven't heard you suggest anything, Mr. Hypocrite."

"How about the Alcatraz? It fits, no? This is sort of like a jail, and it's impossible to escape from."

Claire wrinkled her nose. "Too morbid. Besides, there is already an Alcatraz Island. I thought we were trying to be original here."

"All right, Miss Difficult... how about Deuxième Hasard? It means second chance in French. This island has sort of been a second chance for both of us."

"Well, I like the idea..." Claire started.

"But..." Charlie prompted her.

"It's too hard to say. I don't speak French."

Charlie sighed overly-dramatic once again, "Who is the critical one now? Anyway, I just thought of two, and how many have you thought of? Zero, unless you count The Island, which is just pathetic. So you are the hypocrite here too," Charlie teased.

Claire turned onto her stomach, propped up on her elbows, to look him in the eye and hit him with a hard glare.

"Mmm... I like it when you glare at me, love. Makes me scared and excited at the same time."

Clare gave a shriek of mock-indignation and continued to glare down at his smug, smiling face. She was proud of herself that she hadn't broken into a smile yet. Inside, she was beaming ear to ear, in utter rapture as his eyes scanned her face and his arms slipped around her waist, but on the outside her eyes were squinted in pretend anger.

"I don't like you," she said simply, matter of factly. She struggled out of his grasp, starting to stand up. He, however, grabbed her hand, pulling her back down to him, so that their faces were inches apart. He leaned up, gently pressing his lips against hers. The kiss was sweet and simple, not pressing at all, just soft and coaxing, like their relationship.

As they parted, Charlie said, "What about Atlantis?"

"Atlantis?" Claire asked, sounding somewhat in agreement.

"Yeah, you know, the lost civilization. Like us."

Charlie began sleeping with Aaron and Claire when he realized how little sleep Claire was getting every night. Now, Charlie got up in the middle of the night to comfort a whimpering Aaron or to sing him back to sleep. Although Claire now usually got to sleep an hour or two longer during the night, she still couldn't sleep an entire night. It might have just been maternal instincts kicking into overdrive or simply some lingering insomnia from her pregnancy, but she just couldn't let her mind rest, although her body ached for it.

Midway through the night, about 2:30 AM by Charlie's guess, Aaron started fussing, thrashing about in his thin blankets and whimpering wildly in some nightmare. Charlie rolled off of the mat he was using as a bed and crawled over to Aaron's crib. He gently lifted the baby out of his bed and onto his shoulder, softly cooing to him and rubbing his back in soothing circles. Aaron continued to fuss, getting steadily louder. Worried that Aaron would wake up his mother who was sleeping peacefully, Charlie took him outside.

The huge, shining moon blanched all color out of the beach, leaving it a shimmering pale blue. The waves rolled onto the beach in a steady, relaxing beat. The sand under Charlie's bare feet was warm. The whole world seemed quiet to Charlie, without the loud noise of humanity. All the sounds surrounding him were that of nature. The pulse of the waves, the wind softly rustling the leaves of the trees, the burning embers of a dying fire crackling. It was hypnotic and calming to him. He had always loved the night for this very reason, for the quiet and gentleness of it. Aaron soon fell back asleep against Charlie's shoulder, the chirping, hooting and croaking of the island's insects and animals providing a lullaby to him. Charlie remained outside, however, entranced by the night.

"Charlie?" Claire's sleepy voice broke the spell of the night. He turned to face her slowly, so as not to wake Aaron. She walked over to him and Aaron, her sleepy feet stumbling a little on the sand.

"Why are you up?" he whispered to her, when she got near enough to hear him.

"I can't sleep," she answered as he pulled her to his side.

"Why?"

"I don't know. My mind just won't let me. It's not a recent development, trust me. I'm so tired of being tired," she said with a sigh, her eyes fluttering shut as she nuzzled into his shoulder. Charlie traced circles on her back, as mother and son both found comfort in his arms.

"Why are you out here?" she asked, still buried in his arm.

"Aaron was awake. Besides, I love it out here at night."

"Really?" Claire asked, pulling back to look at him with curiousity. "I hate it out here at night."

"How can you?" Charlie asked incredulously. "It's so peaceful."

"How can you like it out here?" she shot back, just as incredulous. "It's so scary. If you step outside at night you will either be eaten by the monster or kidnapped by the Others. I hate the dark. It makes you so vulnerable and..." Claire trailed off as she shuddered in Charlie's arms. "It's not peaceful at all. It's the exact opposite."

Charlie laughed. "Say what you will, but when I'm out here and I'm the only one awake, it's the most peaceful I've ever felt in my life."

Claire sighed heavily, "I wish I could find that sort of peace. Maybe then I could sleep."

"Come on, let's go back to bed," Charlie said softly, leading her back to their tent. He laid a fast asleep Aaron down in his bed as Claire fell down on her own with a sigh.

"Do you think it would help if I slept with you?" Charlie asked tentatively, hesitantly. He was afraid that maybe he was crossing the line. To his immediate relief, Claire grinned and nodded. Taking the thin blanket from his bed, he joined her on her own. Tucking his knees behind hers, his chin on her shoulder and his arm on her stomach, they fell asleep.

Claire sat in the shade of the treeline, her favorite old bucket hat perched on her head and diary in her hand as she watched Charlie playing with Aaron a little down the beach. Her body was utterly worn out after getting no sleep at all last night. Charlie had noticed and encouraged her to take a day off, and let him care for Aaron all day while she slept. She appreciated the offer, but couldn't sleep. All she wanted was to sleep, but her body just physically wouldn't let her. Still, Charlie insisted that today was her day off. She watched, endeared as Charlie played peek-a-boo with Aaron. His eyes bulged and his mouth was gaping, giving him the appearance somewhat of a monkey, but he never appeared more gorgeous to Claire. Nothing made her care more for Charlie than watching him with her son.

Noticing her watching them, Charlie picked Aaron up and walked over to her.

"Good day, madam. Come here often?" Charlie teased, sitting down beside her.

"Yes, there's no where I'd rather be than an island in the middle of nowhere without running water or mattresses or real diapers," Claire said, unusually negative. Actually, it was how she usually felt, just never voiced. But with Charlie she could say whatever she wanted, which is why he was such a relief to her.

"Hey, it's not just some island in the middle of nowhere. It's Atlantis. Our Atlantis. And there is a river on Atlantis and we are surrounded by an ocean, both are technically running water. I'm your mattress. And Aaron's not complaining about his nappies. Those 'real' nappies would probably give him diaper rash. So you see, everything you need is right here."

"Well, aren't we Mr. Positive today," Claire said in a nasty voice, but actually teasing.

"Well, aren't we Miss Negative today," Charlie retorted, earning him a glare. "Anyway, Mr. Aaron, it's time for your lesson. What do you want to learn about today?" he said, turning his attention to the junior Littleton. "Let's see, we've covered Henry the Eighth, The Beatles, basic guitar care, the Greek gods, some of the alphabet, Tagalig..."

"Does it ever make you sad that he won't get a real education?" Claire asked as Charlie's voice trailed off.

"Sad?" he asked, turning to look at her, her head leaning against a thick tree trunk.

"Yeah. He won't ever learn to read or write or know where Austrailia is or know his times tables... It just makes me sad to think that he won't have any of that."

"Never say never, love. We could be rescued today and in our own beds by tomorrow night."

"It's been over two months, Charlie. They aren't coming."

"Either way, he'll still have an education. We can teach him to read from Sawyer's books, to write with your diary, he doesn't need to know geography, seeing as we don't even know where the hell we are."

"And seeing as you think England is an island," Claire cut in.

"It is an island!"

Claire laughed and shook her head, looking down at the diary she held in her hand, strangely depressed that her son would never be able to write in his own diary.

"It might not be ideal, Claire, but he won't grow up to be an idiot. Besides, when will he need to know his times tables on a deserted island?"

"What was your mother's name?" Claire whispered to Charlie in the middle of the night about a week after they started sharing a bed. She still wasn't able to sleep at night, but Charlie would stay up with her to make her night long vigils a little less lonely. It made both of them worn out and groggy during the day, but the time they had alone together was the sweetest of the day.

Charlie smiled sadly, "Amelia."

"Amelia," Claire repeated, trying the name out. "I like it. It's elegant."

"She was beautiful," Charlie whispered, his grief thickening his accent. "She believed in me, you know?" he continued, his eyes broken and far away. "She thought my music would save us. But then... it happened so fast. She was diagnosed and then the cancer ate her body so quickly. She was gone in four months."

Claire took him into her arms, hugging him tightly against herself. He bunched her shirt in his hands, clung into her as he tried to regain control over himself. She stroked his hair softly, kissing his neck in shallow attempts to comfort him.

They pulled apart after a few minutes, Claire resting her forehead against Charlie's.

"You were so lucky, Charlie. You had a beautiful mother who loved you and supported you. My mother disowned me as soon as I got pregnant. Such a hypocrite!" Claire said, bitterness and anger creeping into her usually sweet voice. "My mother is more dead than yours ever will be, Charlie," Claire said, her voice evening out. Charlie kissed her softly, her cheeks, her forehead, the corners of her lips, her eyelids, and, finally -- deeply, her mouth. "We'll be okay, you and me. We have each other and Aaron now."

"I met Thomas when I was seventeen," Claire said as Charlie roasted their dinner of boar meat over the fire near the entrance of their tent while Aaron slept. He turned to look at her as she watched him with a small, contented smile. "We began dating after three months of knowing each other. He was a footballer and a painter. My mother loved him, thought he was the perfect gentleman. He was so sweet and kind to me. I was shy and nervous around him. God, I was so stupid."

"You don't have tell me this, Claire," Charlie said, abandoning his attempt at making 'dinner' and coming over to sit by her.

"I know, but I want to." She laced her fingers though his, leaning her head against his shoulder. "We dated for five years when he asked me to move in with him. My mom warned me not to, but I was young and stupid and I thought I was in love. Even stupider of me, I thought he was in love. After a year of living together, I got pregnant. But he told me it would be okay, we would do it, be parents, get married, that whole perfect life. But my mother still disowned me. I disappointed her, but I think she disappointed herself more than anything else. She tried so hard to raise me to be a good girl, all by herself. She didn't want me to end up like her, but that's where I ended up despite all her hard work. Things went well for me and Thomas despite the fact that I was the disgraced child. Then, at the sixth month of my pregnancy, everything went wrong. He said I was too clingy, and he left. Turned his back on me and his unborn son. He's such a coward, trying to blame it on me!" Claire said, tears coming to her eyes as she thought of his retreating back the day he left.

Charlie wiped her eyes with his thumb, gathering her to himself. "It wasn't your fault, Claire. He was just scared and an asshole. It's okay, I'm here now." She pulled back from him, planting a soft kiss on his lips.

"Thank you, Charlie. You mean so much to me. I don't know what I would do without you," she said. It was the closest she had ever gotten to saying those potent words, those three words that were supposed to mean everything, but experience had told Claire that they more often then not meant nothing.

"I only ever had one serious girlfriend," Charlie said, pulling Claire into his lap. "I was always that introverted, quiet kid that no one ever talked to at school. Most people didn't believe me when I said I was related to Liam, we were about as opposite as you could get. I met Emily during the formative days of driveSHAFT. We had been signed and we were working on the record. As soon as I met her, I knew that she would be the last girl that I could ever really trust, the last one I would know was with me because I was me. It was the last days of my anonymity. And even if our record didn't go massive, I would be the bassist in that failure of band. Either way, I was doomed. So I really latched on to this girl. And she was great, really, she was. She was fun and spunky, a little bit alternative, but still someone you could bring home to meet mum. She loved my music, I loved her artwork. We went great together, and that was one of the best years of my life. I had a great, gorgeous girlfriend, I was finally making a record, my brother and I were still on good terms, I was beginning to heal after my mum's death, thanks mainly to Emily."

"What happened?" Claire asked in a whisper, strangely entraced by his story, but at the same time hating the girl that he spoke of so fondly.

"After two years, we had our record out, we were getting a bit of heat, everything was going great. I decided that I was going to marry this girl. I just knew. I knew it had to be her. Then, right before one of our shows, I went to talk to Liam. I remember it was about something really stupid -- we had to go to our aunt and uncle's fiftieth anniversary the next day, and I wanted to remind him. I got to his dressing room, and I walked in on him and Emily..."

Claire made a sympathetic clucking noise in the back of her throat. She knew how betrayed he must have felt, that horrible knife in your back feeling. She gave him a hug, burying his head in her shoulder.

"She was the one, I was sure of it. And Liam went and took her. He always took everything that was mine, always wanted what he couldn't have. She was my last and only chance of normality. None of the other girls looked at me they same way she did, you know? They only saw me as a way to get a little closer to Liam, the rock god," he said bitterly.

"You're right," Claire said. "I'm only with you for the money," she joked.

Charlie laughed, giving her a light kiss. He loved how she could always do that, make him feel better, make him laugh, when he was feeling his usual bitterness and resentment towards Liam. Only she could quite do it. "And because I'm devilishly handsome."

"Well, that certainly helps."

Claire knew that eventually the issue of sex would have to be breached. They had been sleeping together for over a month and Claire could feel the urgency, the desire, the unfulfilled passion in Charlie's kisses, and knew that she was brimming with the same feelings.

No, it wasn't refusal that was keeping Claire from committing, but rather, precaution. She had just been pregnant. And if she and Charlie started having sex, then eventually she would become pregnant again, no way around it. There was no protection on the island, what little there must have been at one time was either used by some other couple or stolen by Sawyer. She couldn't risk it. Being on the island for one month of her pregnancy had been hard enough, but for all nine? Impossible.

And it was more than just that that nagged at the back of her mind. She had only known Charlie for a couple months, been with him for even less. But time moved slowly on the island, and she felt as if she knew him almost as well as she knew herself. Still, the practical side of herself kept telling her that it was way too soon to be so committed to a relationship. But it's not like Charlie could leave her like Thomas did. Where would he go? They were stranded on this island, after all. But that didn't mean he couldn't leave her, and then the fact that they were stranded would seem much more unbearable than it was now. But somehow, she couldn't see Charlie leaving her and Aaron. He was much too sweet, she didn't think it was built into his complex, he was too much of an old soul.

And there was that terribly vain and insecure voice that also nagged her. Claire had only ever been with one man, Charlie had probably lost count of how many people he had been with. What if he thought she was terrible? What if she wasn't what he was expecting? Then what?

But the fact of the matter was that when she and Charlie laid together at night, talking and kissing, it was getting harder and harder to stop. She couldn't say yes, but there was no way that she could say no. She knew that Charlie must think of it too, but figured that the only thing stopping him was the fact that Aaron was sleeping a couple feet away.

Now it wasn't just the insomnia keeping her up at night. After Charlie fell asleep, ungratified and craving for more, Claire knew, her whole body ached. Her skin felt like it was being electrocuted anywhere she was touching Charlie, her hands trembled, her toes and fingertips tingled, and overall, most unbearably, the area just below her stomach burned, an unquenchable fire that was consuming her whole body. Claire knew that she had to do something soon, she had to put the fire out before it burned her up.

After one particuliarly long and painful night, Claire approached Sun.

"Hello, Claire," Sun said, smiling brightly. "Where's Aaron?"

"Oh, Charlie has him," Claire reassured her. She was becoming strangely nervous. She needed to ask Sun for this favor, but hated how transparent it made her. And she hated that feeling. "Speaking of babies, how are you doing? You are three months pregnant now?" Claire asked, trying to make it sound like small talk.

"Yes, about three months."

"Are you nervous at all? I was so scared. But then, I was all alone and younger than you are now. And Aaron wasn't exactly... wanted."

"I am still very nervous about it. It is my first child. Jin and I tried for so long, and then we found out..." Sun trailed off, averting Claire's gaze. Looking back up at her, she smiled brightly and said "So what do need, Claire?"

"Um, I actually do need a... I need a favor..."

Claire sent Charlie away for the day, told him to take some time off and go talk to Hurley, play some golf. He only agreed after much persuasion by Claire and assurance that she and Aaron would be okay alone for the day.

In his absence, Claire tried to do what she could with such meager provisions. She gave Aaron to Sun for a couple hours while she attempted to bathe herself and clean her hair. She did some of hers and Charlie's laundry, tried to decide what she would wear tonight and then figured it didn't much matter. She did her best to clean the mat she and Charlie slept on, bartered with Sawyer for a better, newer and thicker blanket, she went a little into the jungle to find some fruit, but not straying so far that she couldn't see their encampment. She found some wildflowers that were exotic and beautiful and picked them when she decided that they would make a nice touch. She then set about arranging their tent. She gave Sun Aaron's crib to use for the night, along with an extra blanket. She pulled the mat to the center of the room, putting the newer blankets on top. Using the mat Charlie used to sleep on, she set up somewhat of a table. The trays that had been on the back of the airplane seats served as plates, and she used a cup that she had taken in the days after the crash as a vase for the flowers she had picked. She cut the fruit into a sort of tropical fruit salad and cooked some meat for the two of them. It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do. She combed her hair, put on cleaner clothes and then waited.

She found that she was strangely nervous, waiting for him. What if he laughed at her? What if he thought she was trying to hard? What if he didn't want this? Claire's old insecurity was pulling through in a severe way. But the more she thought about it, the better it seemed. It was Charlie. Her Charlie. He wasn't going to laugh at her or leave her. He loved her. Right?

Waiting was the worst part. What time was it? How long did it take to golf? Oh god, what if the monster ate him? Where was he?

Claire was beside herself as the sky turned a dark indigo color. He had to be coming back soon, right? Now her stomach was twisted with nerves, while her lower abdoman burned as ever from unfulfilled desire.

Finally, the flap of the tent that was called a door was pulled aside and he walked into her tent, finally quieting her mind and relaxing her stomach just a little.

He pulled her in for a quick kiss of greeting, pulling away as he took in their renovated home. "What's all this?" he asked with a smile of approval. "And where's Aaron?"

"Sun is looking after him for tonight. I thought we could have this night to ourselves..." Claire explained, anxious and strangely scared for his reply. "So what do you think?" she asked tentatively.

"I think it's perfect. I think you are perfect," he answered with a huge grin, pulling her to him.

Claire didn't get much sleep that night either, although it was for much more satisfying and pleasant reasons than usual. In the end, they ate the meal Claire had prepared while Charlie and Claire told each other about their days and Charlie repeatedly told Claire how great her meal was and how perfect all of this was. He took her to bed early, and they slowly and sensually sated each other's desire. The entire night was a cycle of coupling, whispering softly to each other, and then falling off into a shallow dream before repeating the whole seductive cycle.

Morning had dawned and Claire could hear the island coming to life outside their tent. John was already up and getting ready for a hunt, Sayid and Kate were going on some trek together, and Jack was tending to someone (probably Paolo) who had apparently fallen out of a tree while picking fruit. Their exertions from last night were officially over as they woke up for the last time, still entangled with one another, their bodies still one.

Charlie was kissing her hair, his hand rubbing her stomach in a way that made want to reengage what they had done last night, but was impossible seeing as it was now officially the next day. Trying to keep her desire from rising up her throat as it was threatening to do, she bit his shoulder.

"Hey, none of that, now, otherwise our neighbors really won't appreciate us, and Sun will absolutely refuse to ever take Aaron for the night again," Charlie said, his accent particularly pronounced, either from desire or morning grogginess.

"Well then, you stop touching me!" Claire whispered back, although not wanting him in any way to stop.

"Sorry, I just can't resist you, love."

"Understandable," Claire said with a laugh.

Charlie kissed her lips lightly, over and over and over. "I love it when you laugh. Do it again," he requested, kissing her again.

"I can't if you are smothering me with kisses!" she said, laughing without meaning to.

"Mmm," was his reply as he kissed her again.

"Okay, I have to go get Aaron now," Claire said, pulling away from him.

"No," he said with a pout and rolling on top of her to trap her.

"Charlie, really now!" Claire said, actually exasperated with him, but her smile betraying her. "If I leave Aaron with Sun any longer, then she really won't take him for the night again."

Sighing in defeat, Charlie rolled off of her. She untangled herself from him, and started to get dressed.

"Claire," Charlie said, before she left.

"What?"

"You saved me, you know. In only four months, you've saved me."

As Claire walked to Sun's tent, she realized that he was right. In only four months, she had been saved by him. And suddenly, the issues that had been pressing on her mind only the day before were gone. Her inexperience didn't matter to him at all, and their few months of knowing each other were completely unimportant, just another number. And above all, she knew that he wasn't going anywhere.

"Claire, want to play a game?" Charlie asked one night, as they laid outside their tent, looking up at the stars.

"A game?"

Charlie nodded. "It'll be fun, I swear."

"Okay," Claire said with a sigh. She could never say no to him.

Charlie rolled onto his stomach, and Claire copied him. She watched as he smoothed out the sand in front of them. Then, taking a stick that laid nearby, he began to draw on the smoothed surface. She watched in confusion as he drew some lines, a strange series of them with random spaces between some of them. Then, she watched as he drew a big seven and then, worst of all, a noose.

Hangman. A simple game that had filled hours of her childhood with her friends and mother suddenly took on a new meaning as she looked at Charlie's own neck, a sickening scar constantly reminding Claire of the horror of his brush with death.

She shook her head vehemently. "No," she said, her throat seizing up as she remembered Ethan making her watch as they hanged Charlie.

"Watch your boyfriend die, Claire. Remember this, remember that in the end he couldn't save you, that in the end he wasn't worth you." Ethan's voice was laced with malice and victory and a strange streak of what Claire would almost call jealousy. Rain poured down around them, mixing with Claire's tears.

"Claire." His voice was ragged and strangling. He was dying. Dying with her name on his lips. She shrieked as she felt a part of her heart shattering. Not him. Not Charlie. They could take anyone, but not him.

"Let him go!" Claire said, turning to Ethan, her voice surprisingly strong despite the terror and utter dispair that was coursing through her veins. "Let him go, what use does his death serve? Why kill him? What did he do to you?!" She was getting hysterical now, and her baby was thrashing in her belly.

"Why do you care so much, Claire?" Ethan replied. "Who is he to you? Do you know what kind of a monster he is? Do you know what he has done? He doesn't deserve you, Claire. He definitely doesn't deserve your pity."

"Please," Claire whimpered, trying not to think about Ethan's question. Who was Charlie to her? All that she knew, as she saw him dying, was that she couldn't let this happen. She needed him. She didn't know how she knew this, but she had never known something as certainly as she knew this. She needed him.

Ethan took her head and turned it to look up at the tree where Charlie was taking his last breaths. "I designed this so his neck wouldn't break. It wouldn't be a quick kill that way. This man deserves to suffer. And he is suffering right now, repenting for all the evil he has done. Trust me, Claire, I'm doing you a favor. He will die slowly of suffocation. Did you know that after ten minutes of hanging he will be mentally retarded, Claire? And after a twenty he will be braindead? It's amazing how the body works, really. But how he will suffer in those ten minutes of consciousness."

Claire cried, her body shaking with sobs as the one person who could save her died above her. "Charlie!" she cried out, her voice a mess of emotion.

"C'mon, let's move!" Ethan's voice barked out to his two henchmen. The last thing Claire remembered was feeling the thick arms of one of the Others picking her up and carrying her away from him, her only friend, her only hope, the only one who could save her.

"No. Not this game, Charlie," Claire said, tears pricking in her eyes. Embarrassed, she wiped them away.

"Please, Claire? Just one game?"

"Charlie... no! Not... not hangman. Not when you youself were... I can't ever get it out of my mind, Charlie! Every night I see them hanging you, every night you die again and again. Not hangman," she said, her tears coming faster.

"Love. Love, stop crying, okay? It's okay. I'm okay. I'm not going anywhere, you understand? A game of hangman isn't going to kill me." He pulled her into his arms, drying her tears and kissing her hair. Slowly, she quieted and her tears stopped.

"Just one game? Please?" Charlie said, pulling away from her.

"Why, Charlie? Can't we just forget it?" Claire asked with a sigh. Why was he insisting on this? Didn't it pain him as much as it did her? Didn't he tremble with terror everytime he even thought about it? How could he sleep at night, when all she could see was that one scene over and over again?

"Just one, I swear. I know you'll like this, Claire. You have to face this. You can't hide it anymore, or you'll never get to sleep! Please, just one game. For me?"

Swallowing hard, she nodded, wiping her wet eyes again.

"Okay. Guess."

"H," Claire said, hardly caring at all about the puzzle, just wanting to get this over as quickly as possible.

"Nope, guess again," Charlie said. Claire watched in horror as he drew a head on the hangman's noose. The horrible images of that fateful night flooded her eyes again.

"Um.. R."

"Very good! Two R's."

Slowly, Claire filled in the blanks, and as she was guessing, the pain in her heart lessened. She could do this. Charlie was alive and well and completely hers. Ethan was dead. They were safe. And this game was just that -- a game.

Getting more into the puzzle, Claire looked at what she had.

- I L L / - - U / - A R R - / - E?

After looking at it for a couple seconds, Claire felt her throat seizing up once again, although this time for a completely different reason. He couldn't be... could he?

"M."

- I L L / - - U / M A R R -/ M E?

"Y."

- I L L / Y - U / M A R R Y / M E?

"W," Claire said, already beaming from ear to ear. She knew the answer, but that was only a sliver of why she was so exstatic. Now she knew why Charlie had been so insistant that she played this game. Not only had he wanted her face her fear, but...

W I L L / Y - U / M A R R Y / M E?

"O!"

W I L L / Y O U / M A R R Y / M E?

Looking up from his puzzle to see her, Charlie looked endearingly nervous. "Well... what do you say? I know it's probably not how you imagined the whole thing when you were little. There was probably a ring, and you probably weren't on a deserted island, and you probably weren't coerced into playing a game you didn't want to play and you probably weren't crying, but... it's us. And that's all you've got in a place like this."

Feeling her eyes well up yet again, Claire nodded. "Of course, Charlie. And no, it's not how I imagined it, but like you said, it's us. And it's absolutely perfect. I wouldn't want it any other way. Thank you, Charlie."

He took her into his arms, a grin plastered across his face. He kissed her all over her face, pulling her tightly to himself. As they broke off from a kiss, Claire looked deep into those gorgeous sapphire eyes of his. "I love you, Charlie." And she meant it. But more than anything, she knew he meant it too.

And that night, as Charlie slept behind her, Claire looked down at the driveSHAFT ring he had given to her. He was right. This wasn't how she had imagined her life when she was young. He was wrong, this place was wrong, Aaron was wrong, and more than anything, she was wrong. But as she snuggled into Charlie's arms, Aaron tucked between the two of them, she realized that no, her younger self was wrong. Because this was utterly perfect. With that thought on her mind, she fell into a deep, contented
sleep.

THE END