A drabble and a plea for fic help
Dec. 2nd, 2004 03:44 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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ficinabottleDrabble: The Innocent
Author: Jen
Pairing: Claire/Charlie (sort of)
Rating: PG-13 for grave subject matter
*Warning*: This drabble is about the death of a child (not Claire's). Please do not read if the thought bothers you. Although not descriptive at all, I realize this could easily disturb some people, and would much rather put up the warning than upset folks.
Summary: Claire comes upon a tragic relic in the jungle
Feedback: Would love it
A/N: This has to be the single saddest thing I have ever written. I don't know what came over me, but the thought just wouldn't leave me.
A/N 2- The fic plea : ) : I need some serious help on my ongoing Charlie/Hurley, Sawyer/Sayid fic series. Not a beta precisely, just more someone who could badger me into getting back on the right track with the silly thing. I've written enough to know when I'm veering dangerously off the path of sanity. Actually, I fear I've already lost the trail and am deep into the jungle of crazy. *g* At this very moment, I have Hurley doing cross-stitch. 'Nough said. *g* Anyone who would be willing to beat me over the head with a large stick would be loved for life. : ) Thanks so much! -Jen
Charlie tried to hide it, but she saw anyway. So out of place, so simple in it's horror. A diaper bag among the leaves, thrown from the plane as it broke apart.
Bottles, binkys; things that belonged in a safe, warm nursery singed and strewn over the jungle floor like refuse. Little sleepers in shades of blue, each labeled lovingly.
His name was Josh. He would never throw a baseball or catch a firefly. Would never see his first birthday party. Claire wept bitterly in Charlie's arms, then made a vow. Her baby would live.
For the little boy who'd never had the chance.
End.
Author: Jen
Pairing: Claire/Charlie (sort of)
Rating: PG-13 for grave subject matter
*Warning*: This drabble is about the death of a child (not Claire's). Please do not read if the thought bothers you. Although not descriptive at all, I realize this could easily disturb some people, and would much rather put up the warning than upset folks.
Summary: Claire comes upon a tragic relic in the jungle
Feedback: Would love it
A/N: This has to be the single saddest thing I have ever written. I don't know what came over me, but the thought just wouldn't leave me.
A/N 2- The fic plea : ) : I need some serious help on my ongoing Charlie/Hurley, Sawyer/Sayid fic series. Not a beta precisely, just more someone who could badger me into getting back on the right track with the silly thing. I've written enough to know when I'm veering dangerously off the path of sanity. Actually, I fear I've already lost the trail and am deep into the jungle of crazy. *g* At this very moment, I have Hurley doing cross-stitch. 'Nough said. *g* Anyone who would be willing to beat me over the head with a large stick would be loved for life. : ) Thanks so much! -Jen
Charlie tried to hide it, but she saw anyway. So out of place, so simple in it's horror. A diaper bag among the leaves, thrown from the plane as it broke apart.
Bottles, binkys; things that belonged in a safe, warm nursery singed and strewn over the jungle floor like refuse. Little sleepers in shades of blue, each labeled lovingly.
His name was Josh. He would never throw a baseball or catch a firefly. Would never see his first birthday party. Claire wept bitterly in Charlie's arms, then made a vow. Her baby would live.
For the little boy who'd never had the chance.
End.
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