Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

— I'll be back shortly— the announcement was not a surprise, Edwin's monotone voice sounded tighter than usual.

Charles didn't seem to hear him, while Crystal had to repress the urge to punch both of her friends. 

It had been a rather stupid argument, as most were, but had escalated horribly. Fair enough, a difficult week, their hints for tracking David the Demon led them nowhere, and months of effort seemed to have been in vain. The three of them were already frustrated. And the last case had apparently messed with old grudges and the buckets of baggage they currently carried. It had been a stupid discussion about it, but enough to be the last straw. 

They ended up yelling hurtful words in each other's face, until their alive friend had had enough.

Once, not long after they first met the psychic, there had been a disagreement. It did not escalate as much as this one, but they were angry. It took a few hours to calm down, then they talked. After decades of friendship, they made it look easy, Crystal had thought.

They had a routine after those fights. They would ignore each other for a while, usually one of them would cool off first and follow the other around. Charles was pretty much like a lost puppy, and would insist until Edwin forgave him. The blond was a bit more subtle, but did pretty much the same. After talking or silently making peace, they went on a short demon-or-other-monster hunt, which seemed to strangely relax both of them.

This had been way worse. Or at least, it felt like that. 

Usually, as annoying as he could get, Edwin was the one who actually knew how to help Charles when he struggled to keep control. He wasn’t scared of the brunet’s outbursts, and had alternatives. Sometimes giving him space was enough, others, he needed an abandoned place to trash and throw stuff around until he felt better. The blond had bad days too, and snapped from time to time.  Usually, they said things they didn’t mean, but didn’t hurt each others’ feelings as much. 

Crystal sighed, it was going to be a long night, with two angry ghosts moping around.

—- 

The next issue started when the morning came. After he had cooled off, Charles started feeling uneasy. Edwin wasn’t back yet, so maybe he was still angry, or didn’t want anyone around. He couldn’t blame his partner for that, Rowland knew his words could be cruel when he was angry, and Edwin didn’t deserve to be his emotional punching bag. 

Maybe they had overacted this time. 

While they waited, and after a bit of scolding, Crystal made tea and told him that Edwin would understand. He always did, and always came back, no matter what. Sarcastic and moody as he was, he cared too much to just disappear without a proper explanation or goodbye. Not that Crystal thought it was possible. The blond would never leave his partner behind.

And despite not being able to drink tea, the attempt of comfort was enough. 

They talked for a while, but were unable to start investing their possible next cases. Charles was nervous, pacing around the place they were staying, mumbling worriedly and thinking of the places Edwin might have gone. He even dared to sqwoosh a couple of times, until he felt too sick to keep doing it. 

— I swear, is like all my internal organs are upside down — 

— You don’t have any of those, Charles— 

Sometimes, when the boys were closeby, she could reach or at least feel them and more or less know where they were. Or at least, make sure they were around. She couldn’t, which meant that either Edwin was too far away, or something was interfering. Maybe he did not want to be found, but it was too weird.

— Something’s wrong. It’s just not like him to go missing like this — Charles paced, pulling at his hair repeatedly — what if he’s in trouble? Maybe he got lost in the ghost roads? No, that’s impossible — he murmured, increasingly distressed — what if he’s in trouble with another ghost? or a witch got him? Or demons ? — he shuddered at the thought, then started hyperventilating without really needing air. 

— Charles, hey. Whatever is going on, we won’t be of any help for Edwin freaking out. Alright? Try to calm down, breathe with me — she held his shaking hands carefully, trying to ground him — We have to look for hints, any demons or ghosts around. Get information, maybe someone has seen him — Rowland knew a few ghosts around, they probably recognised his partner too. 

— Yeah, sounds… that sounds good. Let’s start with that — Crystal was right, freaking out was the least helpful thing to do right now. He could freak out when Edwin was back with them. Yell at him then give him a hug. That was a good plan, yes. It might involve some crying too. 

They split to ask the local ghosts about their friend, and tried not to let desperation win when the clues were lacking, as if the blond had vanished. It wasn't until the third day since their associate had gone missing, that they found a hint.

—Your friend, yeah— the other ghost answered, interrupting Charles' description— saw him a few nights ago, he was in a mood—

—Do you know where he was headed?—

—Well, he seemed to be just wandering around. I warned him about the old mansion. Y'know, the abandoned one?—

—Yeah. Why?—

—There are um… rumors, might be just gossip. But apparently some stupid college kids opened a portal. Or something. Went around there, and I'm telling you, mate. There's a weird, not good feeling— 

—Weird how?—

— Hell related. Or at least demon related— they fidgeted — demons are always trouble —

That was bad news. Hopefully, Edwin had just forgotten about time and was still wandering around. And avoiding that place, if they were lucky enough.

—-

—We should look for Edwin there, if we don't find him at least there might be leads—

—Why would he go there?— the brunet questioned nervously. 

—Not sure. Let's ask him when we find him, okay?— Crystal put her hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. 

—Alright, let's go — he sighed. He could feel his control slipping, the worry starting to overwhelm him. The guilt started to eat his insides, because if something had happened to his partner, he wouldn't know what to do.

Both immediately noticed the faint smell of sulfur, increasingly perceptible as they made their way into the abandoned building. The psychic scrunched her nose, battling down the uneasiness it brought. It was his turn to pat her back, making sure she felt grounded.

—We go in, look for clues, and get out— he assured, holding tightly the straps of his backpack.

— And if we find anything…?— there was a slight possibility they did, unlike with the other recent locations.

— If there's any sign of Edwin, I suppose we go in. If you're prepared— 

— It's been four days. I don't think either of us can take more waiting or dead ends— they agreed.

As they cautiously stepped into the building through a hole in the front wall, he handed her what seemed to be a pocket knife. 

—Just for good measure — he smirked, trying to appear as more confident than he actually was, and rummaged in his bag — this should do if we find one of the nasty ones — he took out a nailed baseball bat. It probably had some magic quality he didn't lose time explaining, just as everything he kept in that bag. Damn, even the blankets he carried were embedded with magic and absurdly comfortable. 

The place was clearly old and falling apart, if it wasn't for the situation, it would have been fun to explore, maybe investigate and even scavenge for ghost objects or old unsolved crimes. There was mold on the walls, broken furniture and rotten patches of wood. A rat squeaked when the psychic almost stepped on it. 

—Looks empty—

—Shh—

Crystal was slightly more hesitant, since she was alive, had to be careful with where she stepped, to avoid tripping or making any noise that would alert any intruder. The lights from the street provided a poor, but enough illumination to see where they were going. Once the big hall ended, there were numerous corridors, stairways that seemed to go forever into the darkness.

— Anything?—

—The smell is worse here. Definitely something escaped from hell—

— Ugh — it was — that's our lead, then —

It was crucial to be careful, as not to raise suspicions from any supernatural occupant in the abandoned house. A mistake and they could risk all the operation. When had they become so convinced of the severity of the situation? When had the sense of impending doom settled in so much? Maybe since they realized that Edwin wasn't coming back after the second day, at least not on his own, when the lacking clues sent them over the edge. Maybe it was the general, heavy feeling inside the mansion. It gave Crystal the chills, bad ones. 

—Do you… feel something? Psychic powers wise?—

—A huge, awful feeling Charles—

— Same here. Yay—

As they advanced, faint sounds coming from the hallway could be heard. That was the lead they had been looking for. It felt like a trap, maybe an ambush, but they had to keep going, while staying close in case a monster showed up. 

Down the furthest corridor, the voices became louder. Raspy, distorted sounds, which made clear for Crystal that this wasn't like the David encounters. Footsteps, and creatures laughing an ugly, cruel crackle, part of a conversation. 

— … a stray… —

— … should have, ages ago! —

Charles' mimicked breath hitched, then stopped altogether. Crystal didn't catch most of the words, most of which were mixed english and probably lilim, or other hellish language. 

— This is bad — he whispered — Crystal, I want you to listen closely —he was dead serious — stay hidden, as backup. If things go south, you run. No matter what happens—

— I can handle myself just fine, have done it before—

— Before wasn't anything like this. These demons won't hesitate a second in killing you, or worse— it was an extraordinary situation, judging by how distressed he seemed, the slight shudder never leaving his frame, and the anguish in his voice.

— Okay. So you know those demons—

—Not really. But I don't like what they are saying. Edwin taught me about types of demons, this is the sort you always pray you won't find. Or won't find you first — and those were Edwin's own words. Coming from someone that was nonchalant about violence and gore, it meant a lot. 

They stayed in the relatively safe spot, Crystal held the pocket knife in a tight fist, while the ghost took a few steps closer, making himself progressively more intangible. He would make a quick check on his surroundings, and if their missing friend was there, he would grab him and run. If it was any other unfortunate soul, they would see. This wasn't like their regular cases, nor was Charles as willing to risk it as usual. 

The raven haired girl stayed hidden, but ready if necessary. She had his back, and hopefully wouldn't jump into danger while he turned. They'd have to trust each other with that. 

Three demons were bickering at the end of the hallway, none of them bothered with camouflage. None of them could pass as a human, but two were slightly humanoid, through hideous and smelly.

— The stray was good luck, see? It's got someone looking for it—

— Poor, lost souls for us! They'll come like a moth to a flame, won't suspect a thing!—

— Pretty, unfortunate souls!—

The metaphorical bile on his throat rose, and he fought not to make a sound. He didn't like this one bit. It was a trap set for someone. 

Maybe he could sneak, attack two at the same time and would have a chance against the third. If there weren't more demons hidden in the building. 

—Should we go down? Until the moths arrive —

— Good luck with that. They're having a go at him. If there's anything left by the end of the night, it'll be our turn again—

Please, please let it be someone else. Someone he didn't know or care about. Another ghost he could leave behind without any guilt. Let Edwin be back in the apartment, safe and asking himself where the fuck his idiotic friends are. 

— It left Hell, right? It will last a few more nights—

— If they want it to last—

— Seventy years in hell is not that much. We've broken things that lasted more than that in one go— fuck. Oddly, horribly specific. Fuck. He did his best not to breathe, or make any sound. The handle of the bat cracked slightly, because of how tightly he was grasping it. 

He heard something from the room below the corridor, and immediately associated it with the conversation. One tiny, jerky signal for Crystal as if to say "stay, I'm going down". She nodded, getting the message. 

While descending to the room below, probably an old basement, he got a clear, horrifying view of what was happening there. 

One demon observing from the side of the room, sneering. The other seemed to be playing a cruel game, holding down, then hitting, then letting go of the familiar figure struggling against it. A ghost. It was his partner. 

Edwin was barely holding up against the demon, getting slower, and absolutely unable to dodge it's attacks, taking hit after hit. There was a spell circle on the floor, probably preventing him from escaping.

Charles knew he should make a plan, and attack. Help his friend while he can. Instead he froze, unable to get his body to cooperate, pinned in place by the overwhelming doom.

— Hmm, so much for having escaped hell— the blond squirmed under the creature's grasp, growingly tired. A part of Charles' mind said that he should be careful, because the demon could and would, given the chance, just take his partner out of existence, or worse, drag him back to hell —Your little friends will be here soon, and we'll have so much fun together. Don't you think? We'll torment then, and make you watch until there's nothing left… a nice show, yes —

— Fuck off — no, no, you utter idiot — … stay away… from them… — he managed the words out with pure venom dripping from them. 

— Oh, would you see? He's got a bit of fight — the second demon approached them — we've got to fix that— 

It also clawed Edwin's face, keeping him in place, and Charles could only watch, horrified as his friend's eyes went blank, and he let an inhuman, tortured scream. His body seized, as if he was being electrocuted. The horrible sequence went on for a while, until the demon finally grew bored. The ghost didn't get up, the creature spat in his face. 

— Disappointing, what a bug— it kicked him aside dismissively. 

That snapped Charles out of his trance. The word echoed inside his mind, along with his friend's screams. It has been more than enough. Screw cautiousness, screw these fucking demons. Edwin didn't have more time for him to hesitate and freeze and be pathetic. Damned demons.

He had been hovering in the air, and kept the advantage going down on the demon with all his strength. It let out a high-pitched screech, but didn't get the chance to counterattack, or even try to defend itself. Bits of it got stuck in the nails and chains of the bat. 

Maybe, had he been thinking clearly, he would have said something, stated that no one messed with his partner. Or been scared because he had just stepped in the trapping circle. But he was seeing red, which only left the unstoppable force that was him out of his mind. 

The second tried using the salt circle as an advantage, and didn't count on how efficient and lethal his anger was. Soon the second demon was down, squished to bits of viscous substance due to the force of his blows. He glanced at Paine's unmoving form beside him, and readied himself to fight. He was in really bad shape, and it only fueled his ire.

Two other demons were careless, but attacked in tandem. He managed to keep them at bay, and finish them off without giving them a chance to show off any supernatural abilities. Killed them before they could, or at least sent them back to their realm for what hopefully would be a long, long time. It was brutal, and Rowland himself would have been quite troubled by the barbaric performance in any other circumstances. He wasn't, too busy with only one task in mind, which consisted of protecting Payne. 

Four demons, they were four, right? He had just turned to check again, creature attempting to charge at them collapsed, a pocket knife stuck deeply in its neck. 

Too frantic to form words, he was still vibrating with violence when he recognised Crystal. Demon guts were scattered on the floor, all over himself and even on the ceiling. A part of him awaited desperately for more enemies to appear, and allow him to unload all his rage against them. 

— Charles?— she sounded uncertain, and approached them very slowly, as if a sudden movement could trigger him to attack. It took him a few minutes to partially come back to his senses, and let go of the defensive posture and unwavering grip of his weapon.

— I… — he tried to mimic a breath, it got stuck in his chest at the thought of accidentally hurting his friends. He would never. Right? Right?

— It's just me. I'm going to come closer and break the binding spell, alright? — but what if he had tried to attack Crystal, mistaking her for a demon? Or hurt Edwin while trying to protect him? 

— Yes— he managed, and backed up a few steps, before crouching beside his partner, trying to check on him. His fingers fumbled uselessly over the ruined coat, while he tried to help. He didn't know how, or even if there was anything to be done. His panicked mind didn't come up with an answer, just a wrecked train of panicked thoughts. Ghosts didn't bleed, but they could be hurt in other ways, even ripped out of existence. 

Shuddering at the thought, he acted instinctively, bringing his partner closer to him, as if that would prevent him from dying a second death. No, Edwin had already endured so much pain and suffering, and it wasn't fair. But it's never been fair for them, Charles should have known. 

He used the sleeve of his shirt to clean away the demon spit, wanting to get rid of the insult. It was icky, and Rowland felt once again his blood boiling.

The tugging feeling in his guts receded unexpectedly, only slightly, and it was in that moment when he noticed the binding spell had been lifted. He turned, fixating his eyes on the psychic.

Crystal moved cautiously, as if her friend was a spooked, very dangerous animal. She half expected the strangled, weird growl that died in Rowland's throat. The frantic look in his eyes made clear that if she even tried to hurry towards them, he would identify it as threat.

— Charles — her voice was firm, but friendly enough — it's just me. Can I come closer?— recognition flashed in his face, the aggressive scowl morphing into an uncertain, scared expression. 

— … yeah… — he mumbled something under his breath— I'm… I'm sorry. I don't know what to do— 

— It's okay — she tried to be reassuring, crouching down by his side.

— It's bad, very bad — he muttered, distress leaking from his voice, his arms still around Edwin's battered frame.

— Yeah — there's no point in lying— but we can do something about it, now — they had found their friend, it was something.

— I suppose so—

— Come on, we should get out of here. If there's a portal or something, other demons could show up. And we're not in shape to fight a tiny army from hell — 

— I could handle them — he sounded angry again, there's a dangerous edge in his voice.

— And then what? You can't go looking for fights right now, Charles. After all this ends I'll help you hunt down every demon in this city if that's what you want, but now there are more pressing matters. We aren't safe here, at all — 

— I'm sorry —

— Can you sqwoosh back home?—

— I don't want to risk it, not with him like this. And we're not leaving you behind— one injured, in uncertain danger friend was more than enough. And even though Crystal could handle herself just fine, mortality was a disadvantage — let's just… get out of here, you're right—

After a few seconds of hesitation, he took out his coat and wrapped Payne on it, as if the gut stained fabric would keep him safer. Some protector he was, letting his partner be kidnapped and tortured by demons. 

—Stop kicking yourself —

— Easy for you to say — he snapped, and immediately regretted it. Avoiding her gaze, he cradled the limp body against his own before getting up. Edwin didn't stir, or make any sound. Maybe it was for the best — I'm sorry—

— Hey, it's going to be alright. Not now, but eventually. We found Edwin, you killed those demons. Small victories. Now we get the hell out of here, nurse him back to health. Or as close as the ghost of a moody victorian teen can get— she tried to comfort him, despite her own concern. He nodded slowly.

As they made their way, Palace wasn't sure if she should be alarmed by the way her friend glared at every being that crossed their path as if they were an afterlife- long sworn enemy. As long as he didn't pick any fight with a random ghost, it would be fine. She kept telling herself that. Besides, even in this berserk like state of mind he was, Charles wouldn't do anything that could put Paine in any danger.

It was closer to dawn than to midnight when they finally made their way into the apartment. Charles went through the door, Crystal struggled with the keys for a few minutes. Now that they weren't in any immediate danger, the adrenaline started going down, leaving her shaky and bone tired. There wasn't time to rest, at least for the time being, so she took a deep breath and braced herself before entering the falling apart flat. 

Immediately caught a glimpse of Charles' anxious face, while he hovered over his injured friend, laid on the couch. Once again, he seemed to be trying to assess the damage done to his afterlife long partner. The following loud curse alarmed her.

— What is it?—

— He's… he's not good. This is… there… fuck! — he didn't seem to find the words, growing more agitated by the second — it's… it's a knife from hell — he pointed at the handle of it, peeking through the blond's chest. Judging by the state of his clothes, he'd been stabbed repeatedly too. 

— Well, shit— she felt nauseous, but fought it down. Not the moment to freak out, Charles already was in the fragile line of losing his shit, she'd have to try for the three of them — will it… —

— I don't know. I hope not— he swallowed — I've only heard rumors, it hurts a lot, and most of them are cursed with nasty stuff —

— Fuck — they had to get it out. Urgently — let's… let's focus on what we can do, okay? — Charles seemed about to break down, but nodded — Do we look for help? Is there anyone you know that - — 

— I'm not leaving you. Not risking you — he shook his head — if any demon followed us, they could still hurt you. Both of you — he sighed, pulling at his own hair nervously — not now —

— So what do we do? You're the one that gets thrown around by supernatural idiots. Anything about ghost injuries? —

— Huh, yes. We heal on our own, mostly. It's uncomfortable, and we feel pain but… I'm talking about minor stuff. A scratch, maybe demon vomit, maybe a weapon owned by another ghost. Not like this— Crystal's hands got his in a gentle, reassuring hold, to prevent him from pulling out his hair — long term injuries… I've heard of ghosts having been pulled apart, cut to pieces and still existing. They say it takes an awfully long time to regenerate —

— Is there any… first aid kit or whatever, for ghosts? —

— Not sure. It depends on what was used. If there's a curse you can fix it, take it away and it should help — he went silent for a moment — maybe… they hurt Edwin with hell related stuff, right? No witches curse or anything aside from hellish stuff. So, maybe holy water should work? — 

— You're right. The worst that can happen is that it doesn't work, but it shouldn't do more damage. Let's start with that —

The next issue came when they had to take the knife out.

—I will do it. You just, hold him still, I'll make it fast. This is going to suck, for the three of us— Rowland had hesitated for several minutes, afraid. In the end, his hands wouldn't stop shaking, making it impossible for him to grip the weapon properly. 

Crystal was right, and efficient. She took the blade out in one firm tug, and let it fall to the floor immediately. Payne let out a groan, his face contorted in agony, but barely moved. Charles did his best to try and comfort him while holding him down.

Once it was over, the brunet wrapped the offending weapon in a piece of cloth and hid it in the bottom of his pocket-universe bag. That way, no one could ever take it and use it to hurt his friends, never again. 

_____

— You should try to get some sleep— Charles suggested while they were patching Edwin up. It was a slow, tedious process. There were scratches everywhere, and they wanted to be careful — drink some water, eat something—

—I'm fine — she wasn't, but if she laid down now, it would probably be a too long nap, if she managed to actually fall asleep.

— You're not — he had come down from the initial, frantic state she had found him in the basement of the old house. He wasn't exactly calm, but it was an improvement — it's almost midday, and we both know that four whole investigation days can take a lot out of you, specially if its someone you care about— they had been looking for clues and hints desperately, because it was their friend who had been missing, not a stranger. Crystal had barely got enough hours of sleep — you need to take care of yourself, you're still alive—

— I don't think I can sleep right now, you know. It's… there's too much going on — too much to worry about and too little she could actually do about it. Sighing, she sat down for a moment, letting the exhaustion sink. Then, got up slowly and made her way to the makeshift bedroom. 

— What are you doing?— the question was genuine, pure curiosity. 

— Making sure no demon can step a foot on this place without bursting into flames— she said, matter of factly, and started putting protection symbols, amulets and easy spells she could remember on the doors, windows and corners of the apartment. A part of her mind screamed that they were still in danger, that a demon was waiting in every corner, ready to attack whenever they were the most vulnerable and take her friends away. 

It felt awfully similar to the uneasiness that haunted her after having been possessed. Maybe it was even worse, because she was scared for the boys, and for herself. 

— Can I help?— he paused, and covered Edwin with a blanket, trying to make him comfortable. He had been whispering soft words to him while nursing his wounds, trying to get some kind of reaction from him, or at least calm himself down. 

— Of course—

It was surprisingly calming, and made both of them feel useful. It didn't take too long either.

Later, she sat down on the floor and finally accepted the bottle of water and the protein bar the brunet offered her. While she did so, he dragged the coffee table away from its current place, and moved the mattress from the bedroom close to the couch, along with pillows and blankets. 

— Could have done it myself— she settled down, still munching the snack.

— Just, try to get some actual rest. I'll keep watch and wake you up if anything happens— he sat down on the floor, right beside the sofa, facing the door.

— You better do — it was a real threat.

——

At least, Crystal was finally getting some well-deserved sleep. Charles sighed, he had been sitting close to the couch for a while, staring at the closed door, guarding his friends. It made him feel better, or useful at least. 

It was locked, and had more symbols than necessary to stop a horde of demons, if they tried to break in. With that in mind, he got up and checked on his partner again. 

Edwin seemed almost peaceful, but too frail at the same time. He told himself it was an improvement, even if it was just slightly better than how they had found him. Maybe it was just an attempt to avoid going crazy with worry. 

He would manage, the blond always did. He was tougher than anyone would give him credit for, he had survived hell without losing himself. Edwin was strong, he would manage. He had to. 

They had had long late night or early morning conversations often, Rowland remembered. There was only one time when he accepted that yes, he was quite resilient. The only time he had been somewhat proud of having been in hell. 

It had been a difficult case, which pretty much like the most recent one, had stirred the memory of his unresolved death. Additionally, they had been chased away by supernatural creatures. He had snapped at his friend, badly. It had taken several hours to come back to his senses, and once he cooled down he had been ashamed and horribly worried that it would be the end of their long friendship. 

The thing was, Charles knew, deep within himself, that he was dangerous. Perhaps both were better off alone?

However, Edwin had sat down by his side, looking annoyed as always, and asked how he was feeling. Not a hint of sarcasm, remorse or scolding in his voice. Just plain, genuine worry.

Rowland couldn't gather enough willpower to tell his associate that maybe it was time their paths diverged. 

Instead, he had said " I'm dangerous" without one bit of humor or playfulness.

Edwin had looked at him as if he had said the most idiotic nonsense in the whole world. 

"Well, you'll need more than that to get rid of me" then added "I've been in hell, Charles. 'Dangerous' won't scare me away"

It had been a long conversation, Edwin spent long hours contradicting him, stating that it would be unlikely for Rowland to do anything that would drive him away.

"It's more likely that you get tired of me" he had said. Charles would never, not in a million years.

— You have to get better, mate— back in the present, he crouched beside the couch, holding Payne's hand gently. It was comforting, the only way his touch could be. He brought it closer to him, and without thinking much, gently kissed his knuckles— we're an agency, right? Can't leave your partner alone. I'd be damned without you Edwin — he felt like crying, instead he whispered soft reassurances and pleads, hoping it would help. 

It didn't matter if it took an hour or years, but he could only hope Edwin would recover. 

_______

He stayed there, even after Crystal woke up and checked on them. 

—You should try to rest too— 

— I'm… brilliant. Ghosts don't sleep —

—You do—

— I'm a weird ghost. And sleep is not what I need right now—

— You're being ridiculously stubborn—Crystal sighed, exasperated, and started looking for something to either prepare or reheat for dinner for herself.  

 Charles rested his head on the side of the sofa. It wasn't that old, they had found it on the streets, discarded. He could have fallen asleep, the soft faded fabric was oddly comfortable. 

That was, of course, until Edwin stirred, wincing in pain. The brunet immediately backed away slightly, giving him space, so he wouldn't feel cornered. The blond wasn't fully awake yet when he started muttering, dazed eyes struggling to stay open for more than a few seconds. 

— Edwin, can you hear me?— he asked, not daring to come closer. 

— Can't be… — he shook his head weakly, alarmed—… trap, it's a trap… — 

It made sense, since he had been trapped for days under the demon's tormenting, and it probably was the last thing he remembered. They'd have to win his trust back.

— It's just us, okay? You're safe — he spoke softly, not even trying to hide his relief. As the blond became more aware of his surroundings, he grew more agitated.

— You're lying — his disbelief was clear, and understandable, but it still made Charles' insides turn — you're not him… you can't fool me this time!— his voice was hoarse, desperate, as he struggled to sit up.

— Easy, easy — he put a gentle but firm hand on his chest to stop him, careful not to touch the stab wounds — I swear, were not trying to deceive you, Edwin— 

— Stop it — somehow, it was more a relief than a concern to see defiance beneath all that fear — you're not him— but the way his voice broke, the way he flinched away from his touch, as if expecting it to be hurtful, it made Rowland feel wrong all over. He glanced at Crystal, who was still in the kitchenette, for guidance. She frowned, and gestured to him to wait. Then seemed even more annoyed when he didn't. Even with the soft-spoken explanations he tried to give, Edwin wouldn't listen, and grew more agitated and uneasy.

Fatigue settled on his features, almost as intense as the fear. At some point, Charles decided that the psychic was right, he would have to wait for his friend to come around, not before giving one last try. 

— I promise you, Edwin. No demon could impersonate me well enough to deceive you — backing off seemed like a good option, hopefully the coffee table between them provided some kind of sense of safety for the blond — you said it before, right? I'm too unique — he talked with more confidence than he had, sounding more sincere than before. The memory of that conversation was one Charles was quite fond of— demons wouldn't even know where to start trying — 

There was a tiny, almost imperceptible glint of recognition in Payne's dull gray eyes, and it counted as a small victory. Crystal stayed out of their friend's sight, having decided to be cautious, and prevent making him feel cornered. After all, Edwin was having a hard time discerning whether this was part of his tormenting and the trap or not. It made a lot of sense, but stirred something awful inside the brunet. What had those demons done to him while they were still looking for clues? He wasn't sure he wanted an answer for that, but it seemed like vile mind tricks were involved. He didn't like it one bit.

— It's okay if you don't believe me. You have every right to be skeptical, but please, just stay there — he had been trying to sit up, and put as much distance between them as possible after the other ghost had accidentally raised his voice — I'm sorry I scared you — 

Silence fell for long minutes, the blond studied him as if he expected his face to fall off and reveal a monster in disguise. At some point, he seemed to be losing a very unfair fight against exhaustion, blinking slowly. 

He was almost dozing off when the cough started. It began suddenly, an ugly sound rattling in his chest. It shouldn't, there were no internal organs to worry about. Something was off. Many things were, but worry started overflowing Charles again. He exchanged a panicked face with the psychic. Then a frown when he noticed something sticking to Edwin's hands when he removed them from his face and tried to speak. 

He didn't get the chance to, instead coughed more forcefully, curling into himself, grunting. That's when Charles noticed the stains on his shirt, and panicked.

— Edwin? — he mused, approaching him, not really expecting an answer. He fumbled, unsure of what to do, and tried to understand what was wrong.

Then he saw the weird, viscous looking substance oozing from one of the scratches in Edwin's forearm. 

— Crystal? I… I have no idea of what is happening— tremendously nervous, and unsure of what to do, he waited for the psychic. She tried to calm him down, and surprisingly kept her cool. She tried to comfort Edwin too, as he let out pained sounds. 

— A curse — she looked at him, thinking — you said hell forged weapons sometimes had curses on them —

—Oh— that was pretty on point.

Curses were tricky to work with. And they could bring unbelievable amounts of suffering. The more Charles thought about it, the more his angst spiked. They had to find a solution, some kind of cure if it existed. Couldn't last forever, right?

The spasms finally stopped, leaving the blond wheezing for breath he didn't need, and the psychic might have heard a weak whimper. Edwin muttered faint pleas, barely conscious.

— Just… it's… we'll— Charles struggled with words, trying to find the correct ones— we won't hurt you… don't worry, we'll get you a cure… you'll feel better soon… — he wasn't sure if it was meant to console his partner or himself. 

_____

“I’m sorry, I- I’ll play along” the words echoed in his mind “please, make it stop”  

Edwin had slipped back into unconsciousness soon after the- whatever had happened- stopped, not without mumbling incoherent apologies, sounding terrified. 

Feeling suddenly numb, he defeatedly sat down, hunching over himself. It was like the weight of the world was falling on him. The weight of everything that had happened.

— Charles? — Crystal looked at her trembling friend with concern, before reaching to him and after making sure he didn’t have that crazed look in his eyes, brought him into an embrace. It wasn’t difficult to see that he was on the verge of breaking down — hey, it’s… — 

— Don’t say it’s going to be okay — his voice wobbled heavily — because it’s not…— he tightened the hug, seeking comfort and burying his face on her shoulder. 

— We’ll figure it out, yeah? — she rubbed his back, not sounding as confident as she should. Whatever, they would figure it out, Crystal kept telling that to herself. 

— How?... it’s… i knew it would be bad … — he had known his partner had gone through a lot, demons like those were no joke — he’s… he’s so scared of us… he thought we would… — 

— He thinks demons in disguise want to hurt him. Not you, understood? He does trust you —

— Your point is? — 

— We just have to let him know we’re not those demons, make him understand. It’s a process, Charles. He has every right to be scared of us after whatever they did to him —

— I know… it’s just… — he sniffled — there’s nothing I can do, those demons already hurt him — tortured him. He can’t stop shuddering, and feels the urge to bite his fingernails, or maybe his fingers to ground himself — I wish it had been me, the one who the demons caught, you know — barely holding back tears, his voice breaking a little. 

— I know, I know — gentle pats on his back and his head were meant to calm him down — as much as we’d wish to, we can’t change it — a tiny sob escaped the ghost — but we can deal with the consequences, huh? Help him, just be there for him while he heals — his friend's soothing voice was enough for him to break down in choked, ugly sobs on the psychic’s shoulder. 

— I’m scared, so so scared. He’s… they hurt him so much… We’re partners, I’m so afraid of losing him— tears fell openly, and it felt as if Crystal’s hug was the only thing holding him together — he's been through hell already, he didn't deserve this— 

Had he been alive, he would probably have fallen asleep right there, wrapped securely his living friend’s arms. Heck, he could fall asleep right there. It took a while for him to calm down.

— I know. Things are never - — 

—Never fair, I know. I've learned my lesson— he grumbled, scowling. 

—Maybe you should lay down and rest a bit. It might do you good — 

— Just a moment, okay?— he sighed, giving in, emotional exhaustion weighing him down. 

The psychic sighed annoyedly when he laid on the floor, but let him be. The floor was quite comfortable, and despite the restlessness, Charles soon felt himself drifting. He didn’t exactly sleep, but his stressed mind could use some well deserved rest from time to time. This was one of those. Vaguely, he could recall Crystal promising she would keep watch and wake him up if anything happened. That was good. 

_____________

Crystal tried not to lose time hesitating or overthinking. She looked for the old books about supernatural stuff Edwin kept around. She wasn’t sure whether he had got them himself or they were gifts from Charles. It wouldn’t be surprising. Some had neat, old fashioned handwriting she recognised, which meant he had written those. 

She spent the next few hours researching for anything that could be helpful, either related to curses and weapons from hell. It was late night when she finally found something promising, but not as specific as the psychic would have hoped. Eventually, the slight headache and her tired eyes, along with the itchiness on her leg made it too difficult to concentrate on the faded, messy handwriting.

Silently, she checked on her friends. Charles was dead to the world, deep in his not-sleep or whatever it was, curled on the floor, with his disheveled hair falling over his eyes. The brown coat was discarded by his side, stained with demon guts. She hoped it wasn’t beyond salvation, Charles really liked that coat. 

As used as she was to Rowland's occasional power naps, it was something completely different, even slightly unsettling to see Edwin so still. Sure, he wasn't exactly bouncing around all the time, unlike his partner. But he was always around, pacing or complaining about something. Sometimes taking notes or reading, even just lecturing them about how things were different in his times, or explaining things with old-fashioned manner. 

Oh god, she missed their weird normalcy so much. As much as she knew they could handle themselves just fine most of the time, the boys were certainly not doing okay.

She sighed, deciding to make herself more coffee, and hoped it would help her to go on for a few more hours. Crystal had just sat down again on the coffee table, warm mug in her hands, when the weak groaning startled her, 

The blond ghost was observing her with tired, half-lidded eyes, and murmured something. 

—.Not.. not Crystal too…— 

— Hey, it’s alright. We almost fell into their trap, but we didn’t— she tried to comfort him. Technically, the only reason why they had escaped mostly unharmed, was because the creatures hadn’t taken into account Charles’ reaction. Anyway, they would have come up with a plan, had it been necessary.

— How are you feeling? You’re not looking great — it wasn’t a practical question, probably unnecessary, since it was clear, but this was about rebuilding trust. 

— I’m… — he hesitated, guarding himself — I’m too tired for this — his voice was frail with fear— please… no more mind games — the weak pleading broke her a bit. 

Edwin was confused, his mind foggy and thoughts scrambled and all wrong. Was he back in hell? Were his actual friends looking for him? What did these demons want from him now? Would he ever see his friends again? He didn't want things to end like that, for his last words to Charles to be so hurtful, even the slight resentment towards Crystal before leaving now haunted him. 

Would they be worried, or just think that he had chosen to abandon them? 

— There are no mind games now, Edwin. I know it’s too much to ask you to trust us just like that— she sipped her coffee — but you’re safe now, you’ll see — 

— I’ll see — he repeated, murmuring for himself. He would see. 

— Why don’t you try to rest some more, huh? — she offered, trying not to sound condescending, having noticed how he seemed to struggle with keeping his eyes open— we will watch your back — 

—... ‘ve had worse — Hell and St. Hilarion. Way worse, right? 

Edwin was quite confused, and in a great deal of pain. He hadn’t felt it in a long time, probably since school. 

He had almost forgotten how physical pain felt, but vaguely remembered being able to function through it in his time in St. Hilarion’s. Maybe it was because of that, that it was so debilitating.

Hell had its own way, playing with his mind and tormenting with never ending punishments, but it was different. Or maybe it was that he didn’t remember everything from hell.

How long had it been? 

— Yeah, that’s not very reassuring at all — for an instant, he seemed baffled at her words. He flinched when Crystal got up and made her way to the fridge, looking for something with a ridiculously high amount of sugar. She needed to stay awake for a few more hours. 

— What happened? — the question confused her for an instant. 

— Oh, well. You had that stupid argument with Charles, went MIA … — 

— Not that — he flinched again, breath hitching, at the possibility of being punished for interrupting. But whatever, Crystal seemed so real — your leg — he pointed at the ripped pant leg, there was a fair amount of scratches there, also present on her forearms. 

Oh, she had almost forgotten about those. 

— Ah, that. I kinda… fell through the floor — it had been a stupid way to get hurt. She was sure there were still some splinters stuck in her skin. She’d have to tend to those later. On the bright side, it had helped, somehow, to get to the lower floor faster — tried to run to the basement or whatever it was — there had been so much noise, that she had thought the demons were torturing both of her friends — the stupid wooden stairs just uhh, cracked and I fell — it wasn’t that bad, she’d had way worse too, but it was bothersome. 

— Should patch ‘urself up… — 

— I will, don’t worry. As soon as you rest, I wasn’t lying when I said you looked like shit — 

— Hmm… — 

. 

He was scared of what his next torture would be, and too tired to care or think about it. The demons, they must be playing more tricks on him, just like they had done to lure him into the trap. 

Once again, Crystal seemed so real, and a part of him just wanted to believe it. Maybe ask for Charles, even if it led to another demon playing with his mind. Payne wasn't sure they had seen all his memories, or just the bad ones, which was why he was afraid. If this demons were so good at mimicking his friends… 

He felt restless, icky, wrong all over. His whole being hurt in different intensities, he didn’t want to remember all that had happened. If he closed his eyes, would he have those dreamless naps Charles sometimes spoke about? Or just remember what the creatures had done to him? It would leave him more vulnerable, but the creatures seemed to enjoy tormenting more when he was awake. 

— Just… no mind tricks… — he mimicked a ragged breath — please, no more — 

She seemed to pity him, grimacing and sitting on the corner of the coffee table. It was such a Crystal fucking Palace behaviour that he wanted to cry and beg for the creatures to finish him. It was already difficult to think properly, it was torture not being able to differenciate his closest friends from demons.

— No mind tricks, Edwin. I promise, it’s just us — she spoke gently — We won’t hurt you — 

He didn’t feel so confident about that, but again, he was exhausted and half delirious from pain. He couldn't bring himself to trust them, not if there were going to be demons behind those masks.

—... right … you still should.. get patched up- Maybe ask Charles to do it? —he paused — can get worse — 

— Yeah, I will take care of it — 

— Promise? — it was a foolish instinct, maybe he just wanted some reassurance. He was getting confused again, slight concern about his living friend growing. She wasn't Crystal, probably the demon would wait until it convinced him, then hurt him again. 

— Yeah, I promise — and soon, he felt safe enough to drift back to unconsciousness. 

________________

— You should have told me — 

— You needed that nap — Charles mimicked her exasperated glare perfectly, the one she used when the boys did something stupid or reckless and tried to come up with useless excuses — alright, sorry. Happy now? Can you just… get that one out and see how many are there to go ? —

Rowland had woken up, or probably was awakened by her loud cursing, while Crystal attempted to take out the tiny pieces of wood. It hurt more than she had anticipated, now that her adrenaline was way lower.

He looked like shit too, at this point probably the situation was taking its toll on the three of them. The fact that he had panicked immediately over the tiny cuts, thinking someone had attacked them while he was resting, didn't help at all.

— There are a few more. You got hurt anywhere else?—

— Hands— she had just noticed while she was preparing coffee— and forearms, but less than in my leg—

— Bloody hell, Crystal— he cursed, being careful with the medical tweezers. The first aid kit was on the floor, beside him — I'll try to do it as fast as possible, okay? Just, tell me if you need a break, or if it hurts — "more than necessary" she understood the unspoken words. He was making a fuss over some minor wounds, which was completely understandable in this particular case— or anything, it shouldn't be infected — didn't look like it, just a bit irritated— but, you know. One can't be too careful — his voice was small, worried. 

— I'm here, Charles. Not going anywhere. I'll tell you if anything changes, alright? — 

— Yeah, that’s… that’d be great — 

The patching up didn’t take too long, soon all the splinters had been removed and the cuts cleaned with antiseptic. The multiplicity of colorful band-aids and bandages had finally been applied. 

— How… how was Edwin? — 

— Oh, well — frightened, paranoid, haunted — he woke up confused. Talked a bit, so, small victories — 

— That’s good, isn’t it? He’ll get better — he murmured that mostly for himself, satisfied with her answer, and let out a shaky breath. 

—-Got any idea about curses and stuff? — 

— Well, everything I know is from cases and like, field experience. Edwin is better with books and stuff. But, we can look for it together, maybe I’ll remember something useful — 

They did, for a few hours, until Crystal almost fell asleep. It was easier to do the task with company, Charles talked and they would get confused together, or exchange theories about information that wasn’t clear. 

She took a short fifteen-minute nap, in order to avoid more worried looks from her dead friend, before they kept reading and chatting. They were finally getting some leads about hell forged weapons, and the specific curse Edwin was being tormented with. 

— … 've to find a witch… — the weak voice startled them — … for th… curse… — it was barely a whisper, his eyes were still closed.

— Hey, mate. Are you sure?— Charles spoke softly, fighting the urge of approaching his partner and hugging him..

— Yeah… — he tried taking a deep breath —… only someone cursed can… — why was it so difficult to stay awake? —… ugh, brew that kind of potion— the cure, they supposed. 

— That's great, we can look for someone—

— We just have to find a witch that doesn't hate us—

— Can look for it—

-

—How are you feeling?— Edwin blinked slowly, seemingly curious and weary of his words. The brunet kept his distance, hoping to avoid scaring him.

—… 'm tired— he barely bit down a groan, laying down after trying to sit up and make himself comfortable. A bad idea.

As confused as he was, and as genuine Charles appeared to be, he couldn't help but distrust. Edwin remembered, even if his mind was foggy and weird, that the demon's enjoyed the screaming. They would torture him eagerly if he let out any sound, so he tried to stay as silent as he could be. 

—Oh— the other ghost wasn't sure of what to say, or what to do — but better?— as soon as the words left his mouth, he wanted to kick himself. What a stupid question. As much as he wanted Edwin to get better soon, it wasn't going to be fast.

The blond shrugged in response, regretting it an instant later. The demon posing as Charles was the one to punish him the last time, right? He was in big trouble. He might have flinched, readying himself for the pain that would come.

However, "Charles" seemed taken aback by his reaction.

—Hey, it's alright, mate— the soft tone almost convinced him — it's… I'm not going to hurt you_ with a pitiful expression on his face, he took a few steps back, sitting behind the small table with books and papers scattered over it. 

He glanced at the creatures using the visages of his best friends, as they kept reading and working on his books. Oh, he hoped they wouldn't damage them.

Edwin must have dozed off, because he was convinced he hadn't heard the first part of the conversation. 

— Alright, so we know where to go. You're sure you can… —

— We'll be fine. I can handle it—

— Alright, alright. Sorry —

— You'll be back before you know if. Just, don't wander off too much —

— I won't, promise —

He must have fainted again. Edwin woke up breathing raggedly, every part of his being feeling as if he had been thrown in acid. Pain coursed through him, his limbs twitching. 

Fuck, they had taken their time, until he let his guard down. He panicked, gagging on the disgusting, acrid substance pouring from his inexistent insides. Must be the hell blade's doing. He coughed, making an inhuman effort not to lose consciousness again. 

Payne tried to curl into himself, filled with overwhelming fear, on top of the agony, and prayed for it to stop. Please, please make it stop. 

He wanted to beg again, in the end all he could do was cough forcefully, sending new waves of pain through his entire being, feeling as if every wound made by the knife, every claw mark was burning on hellfire. 

Vaguely, he registered something on his back, then his shoulder. Not bony hands or sharp claws that hurt. It seemed as if it could go through him, it confused him. Right, as a ghost, most mortal things and beings were quite difficult to feel properly, since he wasn't solid anymore. Was that it? Still trying to process that, he awaited for more pain to come. Instead, whoever's hands were, those handled him with surprising care, turning him on his side, then let him be. 

It was easier to cough that way, or at least to spit the tar-like substance. When the coughing fit finally stopped, the pain didn't. 

Weakly, he spat the remains in his mouth, then buried his face on the stained cushion beneath his head, as if it would help to stop the agony. The pulsing pain made him writhe, barely keeping himself from screaming. 

As soon as he was able to catch his breath, apologies and weak pleas spurted from his lips. It was impossible to bite back the low whimper when the hands once again reached for him, touching his arm. The attempt to make himself intangible was short-lived, too weak to keep it for more than a few instants. 

—Hey, it's alright Edwin — it was vaguely familiar, that voice — shh, there's nothing to apologize for. Just save your breath, alright? — a wet piece of cloth pressed on his face, gently. It was a ghost object, he was sure of that — easy, easy — what was going on? Why were the demons doing this? 

He winced, trying to get away from the contact, even if there was no foul smell or instant burning sensation. It took a few minutes for him to stop fighting, whatever was on the rag seemed to numb the icky feeling.

— See? I know you're afraid, it's alright Edwin —

So weird, none of the creatures ever used his name, probably didn't care about it. Instead, they called him hurtful names. Maybe it was part of the lie. 

— It's going to be okay, you'll see. Charles will be back soon with a cure, something to help —

Charles?

—Yeah, he's been freaking out a bit, concerned. You know he's the caring type — just then did he realize he had spoken aloud. The hand patted his arm again, not attempting to hurt him. It felt as if he was dreaming.

— You with me?— it's then, maybe because he's either getting used to the pain, or perhaps it's receding, that he recognised the owner of the voice. 

— Crystal … — it had to be her, right? —… is that you?— he squinted, trying to focus. She was there, blurry and looking just slightly better than when they had just met her. 

Something had happened, something bad. Was she hurt? He could see the small, colorful bandaids. Had the demons caught his friends? 

— Right here, dumbass. It's just me— she sounded gentler than usual, which he related to the poor state his torturers had left him in. 

—Good.. 's good— he managed, relaxing just a bit. He would have liked to say something else, thank her for whatever rescue they had done, ask what had happened, maybe something more specific. However, he felt numb, organizing his thoughts was more difficult than it should be. Instead, he (managed) a stupid, short question that summarized everything — you… 'right? What…?—

— We' re fine — reassurance felt surprisingly good — you gave us a big scare, don't do that again..

— Not… m' fault— dear God, his father would have hit him with a cane if he had ever dared to slur words like that back in his time. He said that it was better to stay silent than to show vulnerability, or humiliate oneself. But, this was Crystal, not his father, hopefully not a demon either. Crystal, who was safe, and friend, and they weren't in the early twentieth century anymore. 

— I know, I'm sorry. I mean… we were worried. It's good to have you back— 

— Is this real? — he asked fearfully, worried that she might be an illusion. He wasn't sure how many lies could he endure anymore. 

— It is, yeah— her voice sounded different, not as "there's-a-demon-posing-as-my-friend" different, but the kind people had when they held back tears, or tried not to sound too sad. 

— Charles… —

— He's fine, he'll be back soon—

— but you… — worry overtook him again —… does… 's it hurt?—

— Not really, it's just a few scratches — and a bruised ankle, but he didn't have to know — with some rest, it'll heal in no time—

— Hmm… — after a few minutes, she was convinced he was out again. As tired as she was, Crystal made her way back to the comfortable cocoon she had been napping hours before.

The psychic didn’t expect at all the startled noise, or the anguished whisper. 

— Crystal? — Edwin sounded scared, and was trying to lift himself to a sitting position, but clearly didn’t have enough strength to do so.  

— I’m here, right here — carefully, she approached the couch again, as if he was a spooked animal. He stopped struggling, relaxing slightly on the cushions. The uneasiness receded slowly.

— Stay? — please, stay. It was humiliating, but he was so tired, and so paranoid that only having at least some proof that his friends were there could comfort him. 

— Alright — she moved the table, then dragged the mattress next to the sofa. That way, she was close enough to prevent the blond from panicking — better? — 

— Yes — slowly, his hazed mind allowed Payne to take in the tiny, familiar details around him. The cracked old painting on the walls, the damp stains on the ceiling, his books scattered on the uneven coffee table, like whenever Charles read them. 

This was his home, right. It had to be. It felt just like home, even if his mind was screaming that one of the most important elements was missing. Where was Charles? He wished to see his partner, make sure he was alright, that the demons, if this was real and not an awful simulation, hadn’t hurt him. The thought left him shuddering. 

No, Charles was fine, he would be back soon, just as Crystal had said. 

Rowland was well prepared to deal with whatever demon got in his way. He was safe, and strong enough to handle any danger. 

It seemed that hours had passed, the flat fell too silent. His living friend slept in short intervals, snoring a bit, then checking on him when awake. Edwin wished he could muster enough energy for friendly banter. 

— Everything alright? — the question startled him, it took a moment to find the words to answer, and couldn’t nod or lie successfully — what is it? — she didn’t sound demanding or annoyed, he perceived some concern, which made him feel oddly comforted. 

— Too silent — 

— Oh, I get you. What about one of those podcasts about stupid conspirancy theories or urban legends? There are some fun ones—  

— I’d like that — 

They spent the next hours listening to not-so-horrible podcasts, those were fun ones, not the kind that put them on edge. It was good, and he would have liked to finally relax, but the place lacked the most important piece of the puzzle, the most important part of the intricate machinery that was his reality. Or at least, the reality in which he felt safe. In any way, it was better than torture and reliving his experience in hell. For now, at least. 

Crystal was awakened by the not so stealthy entrance of her other ghost friend. The third episode of the mystery podcast was still playing. Charles stumbled awkwardly, then left his bag on the floor with great care, as if it carried a precious load. A successful mission, then.

His weary expression lit up when he noticed that his partner was awake, but restrained himself from rushing and hugging him. Instead, he took a few steps forward , a little smile tugging his lips as Edwin’s half-lidded eyes followed him closely. He didn’t seem as fearful as the previous occasions, but terribly tired, he seemed more awake, or at least aware of his surroundings. 

— How did it go? — Crystal asked, she had paused the podcast just as he stepped into the living room. 

— Surprisingly well, I got some answers — he beamed, relieved from the useful information he had found — Edwin, mate? You with us? — 

— Hm… somethin’ like that — he murmured, blinking slowly while staring at him, while Charles sat down on the mattress, close to him, but trying not to be too imposing.

— Good, that’s good. It took a while to find a witch, especially someone who knew about demonic artifacts. I’m sorry it took so long — 

— …’re back… ‘s good — the tiny smile warmed Rowland’s heart just as much as it tightened his throat. He patted his arm gently, leaving his hand on the couch, hoping the closeness would be comforting. 

— It's great to have you back, Edwin— he really meant it, words lacked to express how glad he felt. Once again, he restrained himself from displays of affection. 

Then, he started retelling his whereabouts. It had been quite a quest to find a witch who could help, Rowland had spent while asking around, seeking for other ghosts who had any kind of useful information. 

— So, this guy had a bunch of supernatural and magical artifacts around, like, a lot. Said something about witch heritage or the like— the guy, thin as a rake and looking horribly sleep deprived, spoke as if he struggled a bit with English. However, proved to be quite knowledgeable about demonic weaponry — recognised the knife, and the curse — they spent a few hours seeking for the specific curse and its proper, correct cure. As many of them, any attempt to lift it with the incorrect method, would be a risk — but he had to ask other guy to brew the potion, something about stupid details and specificity— 

While he talked, Edwin wouldn't stop staring at him curiously, then slowly reached for his hand. 

— So, it's some sort of compound cure. We've got huh, the potion, some holy water, and an amulet to repel the evil or something like that— he took the small pouch out of his bag, and noticed the uneasiness — I know you don't like rituals, I promise it's the only way to help we found— Edwin nodded, unsure — we're supposed to do it a couple of times, until the fits — the damn scary tar-leaking and coughing fits— stop permanently. It's like, cleansing I suppose—

— Just a soul-care routine instead of a skincare one—

—Not fun— the blond scoffed. Then prepared himself to ask the question he had in mind. 

— It will help you feel better faster than waiting for the curse to wear off by itself— if that was even possible— you know I won't hurt you, right? I'd never… — wouldn't even think of it. 

— I… — I don't know, are you really Charles?—… are you real?... If… if you're lying…— Rowland made an odd noise, as if he was shallowing a sob. Then the hand gently caressed his own, and Edwin knew, deep in his heart, that no demon could be able to pretend caring, not like that, not the exact kind of touch or gentleness or anything of what Charles was. 

— I… I'm here, Edwin — he talked reassuringly, and the gentle strokes on the back of his hand felt oddly familiar. Far different from the claws and rough, violent treatment inflicted by the creatures while they tortured him. Different from Crystal’s too, since the living psychic didn’t seem real enough, just as everything as a ghost. Or maybe everything after falling in the demons’ trap. Charles felt just right, just the way his partner was — I’d never… it’s real, I swear. It’s okay if you’re confused.You don’t have to believe me just yet, alright? I’ll give you as many proof as you need— 

Payne nodded slowly, hoping it wasn’t a threat in disguise. He was too exhausted to put on a brave face. 

— I’ll… try… trust you — he felt like fading again, shuddered slightly — ‘m scared—

— That’s alright, mate. We are scared too. But let’s, let’s try to be brave together — 

— ‘right — he brought their still intertwined hands closer to his body, before his mind started getting too hazy again. 

_____________

The ritual wasn’t harmful per se, it shouldn’t be that bad, as Charles and Crystal had explained it. Shouldn’t bring any pain, not at all. However, rituals inevitably freaked him out, due to the circumstances surrounding his death. He managed to sit leaning on the cushions, with some help. 

Rowland had poured some of the potion and holy water on the amulet and on hands. Then, applied the content of both vials on a rag, and used it to clean it on the most visible scratches and stab wounds, only just after asking for permission. Murmuring something, he carefully put the amulet on his hands. 

— Now, no demon can hurt you, Edwin— the amulet felt warm, not scalding, but the comforting kind of warm — nothing that comes from hell, actually — once the curse cleared out, of course. He would have to keep the relic close, but hopefully that wouldn’t be such a hurdle. It was not only a healing spell, but also a protection one too. 

Edwin was a bit lost in his perception of time, but it might be early morning, judging by the natural light coming from the windows on the kitchen. One of those was broken, he had no doubt. The thin rain sounded almost rhythmic, if he paid attention to it for enough time. He felt slightly skittish, but his friend's presence made him feel safer. 

Charles smiled at him softly, and offered his hand to hold. He was sitting on the floor, looking just as tired as himself. Crystal was sleeping in her room, getting some well deserved rest. However, she would probably get up soon and make coffee, he thought in the back of his mind. 

— Can you stay?—

— I will stay as long as you need, mate. How are you feeling?—

— Tired, but less icky— the holy water and whatever that was on the potion seemed to work wonders, relieving the pain and stinging from where the creatures had hurt him. In a few days, he would be less confused and weak, the slightly sulphuric smell around him would finally fade away.

After a while, Charles asked if it was okay, then hugged him gently. He couldn't stop shivering, but the brunet moved slowly and tentatively before embracing him.

— I missed you a lot, you know. I'm glad you're back—

—Glad to be back— he leaned closer, while the brunet kissed his forehead — I'm… I was so afraid they would trap you too… that they would hurt you and Crystal— he shuddered, nuzzling against his chest, the brunet caressed the back of his head in soothing motions, combing through the shorter hair there. 

— Shh, dear — the word slipped from his lips without even thinking of it. Later, when Edwin was back on his feet, they would talk about everything they needed to— it's alright, it didn't happen. You're safe now. We're safe — they curled on the couch, Charles had taken a blanket out of his bag, and put it around both of them. Edwin wasn't sure if it had any special qualities, but it was surprisingly soft and warm. Maybe it had healing attributes. 

— I was scared you'd think I had gone away or something. I… I'm sorry, I was angry, but my intention was to come back, just a few hours… I messed up— he had been so scared that no one would care if he went missing forever. 

— We both messed up, Edwin. I know you would never go off without at least a warning. I'm sorry it took us so long to find you… and for everything else, all I said before… you know I don't think when I'm angry, I didn't mean it — he sounded growingly desperate, and nervous. 

— I know, Charles— because it was Rowland, it was him and he finally felt safe enough to relax. His partner was there — we can talk about it later, yes?— he brought their intertwined hands close to his chest, and kissed Charles' knuckles.

—Yeah — as the brunet spoke, he cradled him closer, sighing softly against his forehead.

Chapter Text

However, they weren't ready for what awaited inside the basement. Still covered in demon guts, he pushed the old wooden door, with Crystal right behind him.

His fight-prepared mind first noticed was the numerous spells written on the floor. The wood creaked, there were rotten patches, he did not care about it. What turned his stomach was the sight of the figure inside the circle of spells.

Edwin was in bad shape, the first he noticed was the ruffled appearance, and the eyes tightly shut. Then, the point of the spear peaking trough his chest. Although there was no injury, no blood to be bled, it had to hurt like hell. He heard Crystal cursing at his side.

Careful not to step into the trap, he approached the blond as much as he could.

—Edwin? Can you hear me?— worry slipped in his words as he crouched and tried to clean his hands from demon guts or whatever it was.

— Go away— there was such urgency in his hoarse voice.

— I'm sorry it took us long to find you — a whole week, far too much time— but I can't do that— he wouldn't.

— Stop it! Stop pretending you're him! It doesn't... It won't work anymore! — oh — if you want to take me back to hell, then do it already! —

— Edwin, it's me. I swear, I won't let them take you to hell—Charles tried to soften his voice, as another wave of rage ebbed inside him. Once Edwin was somewhere safe, he would hunt for every demon who had dared to hurt him. Or at least, if any of these had got away — We'll get you home soon, I promise—

—Please, stop it. I'm too tired for this— he cowered a bit, then whimpered as the harpoon-like spear moved. For a second, he seemed less tangible, them went back to his usual appearance.

— Just listen to me, it's going to be okay— he crouched, lowering his voice.

—Stop lying! I won't fall for it again—

—I know you're scared, but we are here, actually here— Crystal added, imitating the brunet. They read quietly the signs over the floor, and pointed where they should breach them. If done in the wrong way, they risked worsening their friend's condition. Some spells were tricky.

Edwin seemed to feel the change in his surroundings, as the compound spell keeping him trapped was undone. He looked at them incredulously, with wide, scared eyes. And stayed as still as he could.

—It's alright, we'll get you out of here— Charles took a few steps forward, careful not to startle him — Can you stand?—
Still staring at them, he shook his head slowly and pointed to the spear stuck in his chest.

— Oh, right. We have to get that out. Do you know if it's safe to do it?— he nodded.

—Let's just, uh, bite the bullet — Crystal sounded just as unsure as Charles was about it.

It was clear Edwin did not trust any of them fully yet, probably still believing they were demons in disguise. However, the desperation was stronger, as he stayed put while both came closer.

—Edwin, listen. I'm going to pull this, we need you to stay still. Charles will help you with that, okay?—

— It's alright— he sat down in front of his friend, and silently asked for permission before putting his hands on his shoulders — Won't lie to you, mate. This is going to hurt, a lot. But I promise it will be over soon —
Surprisingly, the blond didn't flinch, through he did seem uneasy.
—Now, can you take a deep breath?— his answer was a head shake — doesn't matter. I got you, ok?—

Crystal gripped the handle of the spear, and despite her fear of hurting their friend, she didn't waste time hesitating. Using all her strength, and her psychic-or-demon-possesion-induced powers, she pulled.
Charles felt his stomach churning at his partner's failed attempt to contain his scream. He seemed worried about letting out any sound, through the attempt remained futile. Short lived screams echoed in the abandoned building.

—It's alright. There's a lad, what a brave lad you are — he soothed softly, holding him as close as possible. He repeated soft nonsense, trying to reassure Edwin and keep himself for openly crying.
It might have been a second, but it lasted an awful torturous eternity for them.
As the hell-forged iron clanked against the floor, the brunet held his wounded partner close, feeling the heavy breathing while he leaned on him.

— It's over, you'll feel better soon— worried about his hug being restraining Edwin against his will, and loosened his hold a bit, but the blond surprised both of them by grabbing him weakly, as if Charles was a lifeline.
—If, if you are you... Please don't let go— the anguished whisper broke his heart.
— I won't, but I need you to tell me what's wrong— everything was, but there was something particularly worrisome.
—... feel like I'm falling... through the floor— he shuddered— Hell wants me back... It's, it's trying to pull me in — oh. Oh no.
—There's a door to hell here?— Edwin nodded against his shoulder.
—Basement —
— I won't let you go back there, never. You hear me? But we have to leave, now—
— Can't squwoosh— hell would just swallow him.
— I know, better not to risk it—
— Ghost roads?— proposed Crystal, guarding the broken door.
— You think you can bear it if we take the ghost roads?—
—Can try —
—Crystal?— the brunet seemed doubtful.
— I can hold my breath for a while, but you better know what you're doing —They had few options.

—Take the spear— Edwin's voice was a harsh, weak whisper. As disgusted as Charles felt towards the hell-forged weapon, it was a fair point. He put it in his pocket-dimension bag, in the bottom of it so no one else could get it. Though the bag was enchanted to weigh next to nothing, it felt heavy on his shoulders.

—Alright, up we go -- carefully, he helped the blond to stand up, supporting most of his weight as the blond leaned on him, with his arm around his shoulders. Crystal aproached them, and helped to keep him standing.
-- Ready? We'll try to be as fast as possible --

The three of them concentrated in the mental image of their place, and as both ghosts called for the Ghost Roads, "We will carry your messages!", they hurried, the psychic with her eyes closed, holding her breath and dragging the blond with them. Who, now barely conscious, groaned in discomfort at the multiplicity of voices whispering and screaming around them.

— We're almost there guys, come on, keep moving—

After what felt like an eternity, the heavy atmosphere dissipated and the voices hushed and faded away.
The three of them stumbled into the fallen-apart flat. The psychic gasping for precious air, as the fair haired ghost collapsed in exhaustion, and the third one tried to hold them up.
In the end, the three or them laid on the floor.
—You okay there Crystal? — she answered with a thumbs up, still recovering — Edwin?— he just groaned weakly, mildly hiding his face on Charles' stained coat.
The brunet caressed the back of his head in soothing motions, combing through the shorter hair there.

—It's alright, Edwin. You're safe now, I promise— he didn't dare to move from their current position, and soon Crystal joined them, sitting down by Edwin's other side.
—... it hurts... —he whimpered, keeping his eyes closed. Crystal winced in sympathy, and tentatively patted his arm. Since he didn't shy away from the touch, she rubbed gentle circles on his shoulder, hoping it would bring him comfort.

Even as a psychic, it was quite strange and unlikely to picture ghosts actually getting hurt. She remembered the underworld-involving case, when, as both her associates had mentioned, Charles had been thrown around by a crazy spider demon lady or something like that. He had been a bit sore for a few hours, inexplicably so, since he didn't have a body.

Her first thought about ghosts getting damage was immediate pain. If they were hit or attacked in any way by other supernatural entities, they would feel pain. Just in that moment.
It hadn't been the case with the nightmare nurse or whatever they called the demon lady. Neither with these demons and their weapons made in hell.

She just hoped Edwin would start feeling better soon, since they had taken the spear out. What worried her was that they didn't know how much damage it could have done, how much time had it been impaled in his chest, or if the demons had produced more damage.

— Shh, we're here. We'll get you back on your feet soon, Edwin — once again, the blond made a pained noise as her hand wandered close to his wound.
Still trying to console him, Charles seemed to think for a long while.

—Edwin, can you hear me?— a small affirmative sound — would it be better for you if we helped to change your clothes? For something more comfortable, maybe that smells less sulphuric— even with the cautiousness which he had spoken with, the other ghost shuddered and opened his eyes, filled with fear and uneasiness.

— Hey, it's alright. We're not going to force you to do anything. You're safe with us, remember? You can decide whether or not you want or feel comfortable with that. It's just an offer— Crystal added.

—It hurts... I don't think I can... —

—It's okay, take your time — softly, almost tentatively, Charles continued caressing his hair, and kissed the top of his head in a paused motion, as if making sure his partner was actually there. The gesture seemed to stir something in Paine's mind, recognition flashed through his tired features, and he immediately leaned on Charles, pressing his gaunt face against the other one's chest. Who could only repress his surprise, and trying to help his four decades partner.

—It's really you— he muttered in weak amazement, as if the kind demostration had revealed more than anything they could have said before — You... You came for me... — his voice cracked slightly, and his breathing became laboured, even if he didn't draw any real breath — I'm so glad you're here... —

— We would never abandon you, Edwin. I'm sorry it took so long for us to find you, but we've got you now. You'll be safe — he kept repeating the calming words, convincing him of what it was real — Crystal is here too, see? We've been worried since you went missing— the psychic crouched again closer to them, and reached to pat his shoulder. Then, very slowly and gently, the side of his head. Edwin shied away slightly, until he noticed the contact wasn't a painful one.

— Big scare you gave us, huh — she spoke softly too, ensuring he wouldn't feel threatened. Doubt and slight distrust lingering in his eyes said everything — I know you're scared, and that you need to take your time. You've been through so much Edwin. It's alright, it's just us —

A few hours passed with the same sequence, Edwin stayed in the fine line between restlessness and exhaustion, too weak to move yet, at the same time alert and worried.

— How's the pain?—

—Still... bad —

— I could go talk to Tragic Mick, or other ghost that can help us. This time he does owes us a favor this time, so he won't play with us. Only if you agree, is that okay?—

— Make it stop, please —

— Alright. We'll do our best, mate. Crystal will keep you safe while I look for help — he reassured his partner, and after a little convincing, both laid the blond on the couch. Crystal sat beside him, making sure he knew he wasn't alone.

— Charles will be back soon —

— Hmm... — he leaned closer to her familiar presence. In the main time, it was good that she had one of the amulets the boys had gifted her not long after their first meeting. It was quite simple looking, but supposed to offer some grade of protection from demons and hell influence. The blond seemed curious, accepted it nonetheless and kept it close to his chest, where the gap from the spear was still visible.

After a while, Charles finally came back with Mick, or whoever he had got to help. At the sigh of the tall manatee faced ghost, she felt the urgent need to protect her friend, even if he wasn't a real trheat.