DISCLAIMER: Lost belongs to J.J Abbrams and all those people at ABC with high authority. I am merely a fan writing a fictional story based on my favorite television show. Hence, Fan Fiction.
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As Claire rocked her baby and sang to him softly, the only thought in Charlie's mind was that he could never ask for anything better.
Well, there was the small fact that they were stranded on an island and they might never get off... there was a nutty French woman parading around and demanding that everyone fear "The Others" and that Charlie had been heroin-free for almost a month and was going insane because of it. But other than that, Charlie had never felt better.
Claire was safe. That was all that mattered to Charlie. She was safe and happy and little Turnip Head Aaron was too.
Charlie scratched the stubble on his cheek. Claire pushed a wispy lock of curly blonde hair behind her ear and set Aaron down in his cradle.
"He's asleep," she whispered to Charlie.
Charlie smiled at her. He couldn't help it.
Claire sat down beside Charlie. "You know," she said "I can't believe I would ever have wanted to give him away."
Charlie sat down in the sand beside Claire and merely said, "Mmm-hmm."
"I mean, you wouldn't understand. It's just... you hold him in your arms, and knowing that he's yours, he's all yours... it's..." Claire struggled to find the right word. "It's amazing."
Charlie looked up and smiled again. "I'm sure it is."
He looked into her eyes- her beautiful eyes that he loved so much. Her eyes that he dreamt about, that he saw when his own were closed. Never in his life had he felt this way about anyone, or anything in the world. Before he met Claire.
"Something wrong?" said Claire, frowning worriedly.
Charlie's face grew hot. He just realized he had been staring at Claire and smiling for about a minute.
"No," Charlie mumbled. "Everything's fine."
He wished he could have told her the thoughts that were racing around his head at that moment, but they seemed to private and to secretive for words. He loved Claire too much and feared that she only thought of him as a friend, a friend who played the guitar and talked to her when no one else did and helped with her baby because he knew that she was all alone.
Lying on the ground that night, Charlie looked up at the starry sky and sighed. He heard baby Aaron fussing. Deciding to give Claire a break, he walked over to the cradle and picked up the baby.
Claire was already asleep. She had not slept in days and Charlie knew she was worn out.
"Hey," said Charlie to Aaron. "What's the matter?"
Aaron stopped crying and looked up at Charlie's face. The baby stuck his tongue out at Charlie.
Charlie smiled. "You're a cute little booger, aren't you?" he cooed.
Charlie walked around the vicinity and sighed. "Oh, Turnip Head," he sighed. "What am I supposed to do?"
Aaron didn't respond. He merely smiled and played around with his tongue in his mouth.
"I can't tell Claire what I really think. She'll think I'm insane. I'm such a coward," he finished lamely. "I can't even tell her that I love her."
Aaron spit up a bit. Charlie smiled and wiped Aaron's mouth with his sleeve.
"Must be nice, being a baby," he commented. "You can take a dump wherever you please, and cry in the middle of the night..." Charlie sighed. "And you don't fall in love."
He smiled and rocked Aaron back and forth a bit. He sang to him gently for a few minutes, then placed him back in his cradle. He kissed the baby's forehead.
"Sleep well, Turnip Head."