Chapter Text
The memory was all too vivid in his mind. But with how much he was running around for Reg Cutty, Edmund did not much take time to remember it.
In fact, he never thought about it ever, when he was a kid. He was too busy working and trying to be happy to remember something from his childhood. It never ever occurred to him…. At least, not until one fateful day.
The Plough boys just finished ‘having their fun’ with Edmund. The leader laughs aloud and rubs his jaw. “Alright boys, that’ll do!”
The other of the boys stand and laugh at the beaten and bruised meat boy sitting against the brick wall before them. The leader sneers. “Skimpy here’s good to go,” He grabs Edmund by the neck of his shirt and pulls him close so that Edmund could feel the guy’s breath on his face. “Now Eddie, if I ever find you near our alley again, I’ll make sure you never come back, you got that?”
With how weak he was from the beating Edmund could barely manage a nod. The guy throws him down and they run for it.
This was the day that Edmund remembered his childhood.
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“Oh, Edmund,” Arthur frowns and rushes over. “Are you alright?”
Edmund looks up with a smile. “Hey Arfur! I’m okay!”
Arthur winces, not just at the bleeding cut on Edmund’s leg, but at his neverending positivity. “Why did they hurt you?”
“They were just havin’ their fun,” Edmund smiles a little. “I… came a little too close to their alley, he said.”
Arthur sighs. “I’m so sorry...”
“I’m okay! I’m okay!” Edmund repeats, “I’m just fine! But… Mr. Cutty is gonna get real mad that I didn’t deliver the packages...” Edmund winces at the scattered meat packages, and fear starts to fill him. “Oh I’ve probably made so many people mad…! Mr. Cutty is gonna have my head!” He tears up. Arthur winces and kneels by him.
“Hey… I can deliver the packages for you,” Arthur pats Edmund’s knee as he softly assures him, “you don’t need to worry… I can take care of it.”
“Really!” Edmund looks up at him quickly, already smiling. “Thank you Arfur!”
Arthur could not help but smile. He gathered up the packages and then Edmund. “I’ll take you to the pub; they can get you a doctor.”
“Oh they know me at the pub!” Edmund claps. “Sometimes they give me treats! Mister Front Desk Guy gives me cream soda whenever I bring him packages!”
Arthur eyes the street for Bobbies. “Oh? That sounds very nice, Eddie...”
“Percy really likes the blue cream soda!” Eddie suddenly says, causing Arthur to wince, “He likes the blue one and I like the orange one! Do you know Percy?”
“Of course I know Percy… he is my brother.” Arthur sighs.
Edmund smiles happily as he thinks about Percy, who used to be one of his only friends. They were inseparable. They read together or took walks around the park, and just talked. They were the best of friends.
Arthur approaches the pub, wincing slightly as Edmund had mentioned his long-lost brother. It was not something he wanted to remember or think about regularly.
“Say Arfur!”
Arthur sighs and stops at the door before entering. “Yes, Eddie?”
“Where is Percy?”
“I...” Arthur looks down. “Perhaps… Germany… or Russia… I don’t know.”
“Is that far, Germany and Russia?”
“Sort of… and they’re cold.”
Arthur quickly cuts the discomforting conversation by entering the pub before Edmund can speak again. Mister Front Desk Guy about faints at Edmund’s poor sight, and immediately he gets to work cleaning and bandaging the cut and putting splints on his legs. And of course, he gets a cream soda for him.
Arthur sighs. “You’ll be fine, Edmund. I’ll be on my way now.”
“Hey Arfur!” Edmund perks up. Arthur slowly turns back to him.
“... yes?”
“If you find Percy,” Edmund straightens up the best he can. “Tell him I miss him… okay?”
Arthur silently winces for a moment before answering. “I will.” And with that, he turns and leaves, rather quickly, but Edmund does not notice.
Edmund settles down and reads the newspaper, having not much else to do. His head was pounding from the beating but the cold of the soda helped soothe it. He found an article about the kids that were sent to Germany, that some of them were returning to Wellington Wells secretly now that they have come of age.
“Hm… Percy went to Germany...” Edmund watches the paper in thought. “Or Russia...” He lights up suddenly. “Maybe he will come back!”
“Percy?” A stranger suddenly looks to Edmund, overhearing his out-loud thoughts. “Percival Hastings? Unlikely.”
“Unlikely…?” Edmund looks up at the stranger, blinking with surprise. “Why unlikely?”
“Didn’t he have autism or whatzit?” The stranger asks, taking a draw of his cigar, “Someone like him probably wouldn’t last out there. He’s most likely dead.”
Edmund winces behind the paper. “Oh… okay...” He sniffs. His chest suddenly hurt, and it was not from the beating. He decided to put the newspaper down and rest his eyes. The headache had come back. He tried not to think about Percy and about his dying hope that he might come around.
How can a dead person come around? Edmund softly cried to himself, knowing it was impossible.