A/N: It has been FOREVER since I've written a Lost story, especially Charlie/Claire based. Hope you all enjoy!

Claire sat down on the edge of the bed. It hadn't been but a week since they had made it off the island alive. Not all of them. That would be asking too much. Her brother, well, her half-brother, he had been left behind, assumed dead. Though they all thought she was still way off from the Claire she used to be, she was starting to return to that person. Slowly. Like little pieces of memories keep floating back down to her. Lighting up her mind and her heart with hope, only to be shot back down when reality kept hitting her.

The hardest part though? Was reliving his death. At first she had trouble truly remembering who he was, and what he had done for her. Then it started to come back. Little flashes of memory, here or there, until finally she picked up the phone, such a foreign concept to her, and called Kate.

"Hello?" Her voice came out, quiet and weary.

"Kate?" Claire asked, unsure of herself. Unsure that it was okay for her to even call Kate, after everything that she had pulled on the island.

"Claire? Are you okay?" Claire heard the tiredness fall away from Kate's voice quickly, as worry over took it.

"I'm fine. I just- you said that if I had questions that I could call you..."

"Of course," Kate answered Claire's unasked question.

"Well, I keep remembering this guy... from before. I know that I knew him. I think we were close, I just—I can't remember his name. I can't remember what happened to him."

Kate sighed, knowing exactly who Claire was speaking off. "His name was Charlie. You and him, you were together. I'm sorry, Claire, but Charlie died. He was trying to save us, and he was killed."

"I figured as much. I just thought I would hold out a little hope."

"How are things going with you're mom."

Claire knew what Kate wasn't asking, but she didn't have the heart to tell her the truth. "Great. I mean, it's different than before. My mom – she thinks I'm fragile. That I'll break at any moment."

"Well, you're mind is still very fragile, Claire. I mean, we're still not sure what exactly happened to you after you disappeared, and you can't really remember much from before."

"I understand that, but I'm not an antique piece of glass that could shatter that easily. I just wish that she would stop trying to keep me from breaking, and just help me remember."

After her last conversation with Kate, Claire found it difficult to remember Charlie. That didn't stop the memories from coming to her. All the good ones; memories of imaginary peanut butter and sweet, soft kisses. The bad memories, when she couldn't find it in herself to trust Charlie, those were the worst. It was like watching a movie backward. She knew the ending which made all the hard times so much more painful to relive. Claire knew that if she had known Charlie's future, that she wouldn't have spent so much time trying to avoid him. Trying to make him stay away from her. Yet, that was what sucked about memories. All you wanted was to change them, to make them more bearable, and you knew that there was nothing you could do to fix them.

Claire knew that her mother thought she was really losing it. Especially since Claire had been refusing to leave the house, but she couldn't tell her mother why. Sometimes she wondered if she was losing it. It wasn't an all the time thing, thankfully, but occasionally when she was out, she would see him. Not like a flash, or sideways view, but looking straight ahead, she could swear he was walking toward her. That same goofy grin on his face, with his hands shoved deep into his jean pockets. After a blink of her eyes, he would be gone, and she would feel the slightest pain in her chest. A week of that, and Claire had decided that it was better … safer if she stayed indoors.

A knock sounded on her bedroom door, pulling Claire from her reverie. "Come in." She called.

The door pushed open, as Kate stood in the doorway. "Hey."

Claire sighed, before patting an open spot on her bed. "I guess my mom called you?"

Kate nodded, taking the free spot. "She's worried about you, Claire. You've barely spent anytime with Aaron. You lock yourself in your room. What's going on."

"I can't tell you. I can't tell anyone. You'll just think I'm crazy, and I get enough of that from my mom..."

"Claire, you forget that we were both on that island. We both saw some pretty crazy shit. Believe me, it will take a lot for me to think that you're crazy."

With another sigh, Claire turned toward Kate. "I've been seeing him. Not all the time, but when I do … it hurts."

Kate nodded, "You remember Hurley?" When Claire merely nodded, Kate continued. "When the five of us left the first time, he kept seeing some of the people that died on the island. Charlie was who he saw the most, probably because they were best friends. At first, Hurley was terrified of Charlie, and what seeing him meant, but after awhile, he started to embrace it. I think that maybe, Charlie is just trying to look after you. He cared about you a lot. You and Aaron were his family."

Claire nodded, "So, I shouldn't be afraid of it?"

Kate smiled softly, "I wouldn't start talking to him. At least not in public, but no, I don't think there is any reason for you to be afraid of him."