Chapter Text
Things got really weird when Larry got held hostage by miniature cowboys.
Ok, maybe Charlie should back up a bit because, honestly? There was some weird stuff before that happened.
He’d arrived a bit early for his shift so that Kira couldn’t catch him before hand. He was trying to avoid her as much as possible recently, mostly because she had been nagging him all week about his job. He nodded in farewell to Rebecca as she left, a starbucks coffee cup in one hand. Caffeine. Lots of caffeine. He knew that would be needed. He also had his bag, containing his laptop so he could do some editing of a recording done earlier in the week of a song Kira had sung.
Of course, at the time he thought he would actually get time to complete it. He was so wrong.
Charlie gave a jaunty salute to Larry as the older man headed in. Larry gave him a confused look which, really, Charlie was expecting - he was currently sitting, cross legged, on top of the information desk, tapping away at his laptop.
“You’re going to fall off.” Larry pointed out and Charlie shrugged, having a mouthful of his cappuccino.
“I’ve sat in more precarious places. Amos thinks I’m insane.” The look on Larry’s face told Charlie that he agreed with Amos whole heartedly. “Besides, no one else is here - only you.”
“I still think you’re insane.” Larry muttered. “What are you working on?”
“Just some editing.” Charlie shrugged. “A song we’re putting online. The acoustics where we normally record are terrible - literally Amos’ basement. Don’t worry, I won’t get sidetracked.” He offered a smile. “You got the to-do list the others left?”
“Yes. But none of these make sense.” Larry held the list out in offer and Charlie took it, reading it.
“...Lock up the lions or they’ll eat you?” He laughed. “God, these guys have an odd sense of humour. Right, so I’ll check up the Egyptian exhibit. Do you want to lock up the African exhibit?”
“...How are you not confused?”
“I work with Kira and Amos on a daily basis. There was a pug incident. Trust me, you don’t want to know what Amos will do to win a bet.” Charlie shuddered. “But yeah. Checking up on the Egyptian exhibit. Meet you back here...whenever.”
The two split up, Charlie singing quietly to himself as he headed to the Egyptian exhibit. It was too quiet, and just hearing his own footsteps put Charlie on edge, like he was in a horror movie. He felt like something was watching him, and singing to himself helped him to not focus on the prickling at the back of his neck.
“Hey there, Pharoah.” And, yes, talking to himself also helped. Charlie was not going insane. “Seems like everything is in check.” His eyes flickered to the tablet, before he laughed to himself. "Let's see if your tablet is magic." He patted the glass slightly.
That was when the glowing started.
Now, in Charlie's experience, things didn't glow. Not unless they were powered by an electric bulb or glow in the dark, like the stars on Cleo's ceiling. So of course he stumbled back.
Then the banging started, the yelling and -
"Holy shit!" Charlie managed to stumbled forward, hands on the stone slab covering part of the sarcophagus. He could hear noises outside and...and... "The tablet..fuck this was not in the job description."
To be honest, even if it was in the job description, Charlie wouldn’t have believed it.
Suddenly, the instruction pack made sense.
The yelling was still there, the banging, as though hearing Charlie’s voice just made the Pharaoh more determined to get out. Muffle the mummy - he frightens the others...fuck it. Charlie was helping this guy - he was young, Cleo had told him, and he was stuck in there.
He tried to push the stone off the top of the glass container, to no avail. It budged slightly, but Charlie had never been ridiculously strong. He knelt down, keeping his voice loud.
“Hey, calm down. I can’t get the stone off, but I’ll keep talking to you for as long as I can. I need to...to see what the hell is going on. I’ll get you out of there once I get he - shit. Larry. Shit.” Charlie’s head hit the glass with a thud. “I’m sorry, I have to go and make sure my...co worker isn’t freaking out too bad.” He groaned, got to his feet. The banging and yelling had ceased, but was replaced with a whimper. Charlie cursed himself silently for not being able to be more help, before turning and running.
The place was in chaos.
Exhibits were running back and forth - Larry must have locked up the African exhibit because there were no lions or anything of that sort.
Or maybe he'd actually been eaten by them...could stuffed animals actually eat? Could anything in this museum eat? Did they have all the necessary parts when they...came to life?
Oh God did the t-rex become an actual, flesh and blood, dinosaur?
Charlie was probably over reacting. Besides, the other night guards were fine. He wondered if he ate something bad and that was causing what was probably a hallucination.
“They should have mentioned this in the goddamn job description.” He muttered, before sidestepping a group of war nurses and making his way towards the stairs. "Fuck - mister Daley!" Charlie was relieved to see someone who should be alive, but Larry didn't stop to chat, just grabbed his arm as he ran.
"Huns!" He managed to get out in way of explanation and, oh, shit. They were in so much trouble.
He could hear the yelling and knew that the Huns really liked to rip their enemies apart. With their bare hands. Charlie didn't know what Larry had done or said to make them pissed off, but at least they managed to make it to the elevator before they could be dismembered.
“Holy shit. This is bad - really bad.”
“I wasn’t seeing things, then?” Larry ran a hand down his face. “Oh God.”
“You did lock up the lions, right? Huns are more than enough.” There was something Charlie never thought he’d say, and he considered ramming his head against the wall of the elevator. Unconsciousness would be lovely right about now. Larry nodded.
“Of course I did.” Larry ran a hand through his hair. “We have Huns chasing after us oh God.”
“Please don’t freak out.” Charlie practically begged. “I am two seconds away from ramming my head against the side of the elevator and I really, really don’t want to do that.”
“Oh God please don’t do that. I don’t want to deal with a museum that comes to life and a concussed eighteen year old.”
Charlie and Larry exchanged looks, before bursting into hysterical laughter. It was mostly due to panic, or at least it was in Charlie’s case.
“This is the worst situation Kira has ever gotten me into.” Charlie managed to get out. “Oh my God, do you think the miniatures come to life?”
“If the T-Rex skeleton can come to life, why not?” Larry looked rather pale, but he had red cheeks from laughing. “We should probably deal with them.”
“We should probably make sure the exhibits aren’t destroying the museum.” Charlie agreed. “You check out the miniatures and I’ll look at the room on American History?”
“Yeah, that sounds like...yeah…” Larry ran a hand through his hair, looking at the elevator door. “Count of three, we run for it?”
“Gotcha.” Charlie nodded. Larry counted and, on three, pushed the button to open the door and they sprinted out, splitting up.
Fortunately, Charlie didn’t die on his way to his designated place. Thank God.
The room was much quieter, more serene than the rest of the museum, which was a relief for Charlie. His attention was on the three people behind a glass display, though. Lewis and Clark, and their guide. Sacagawea. He had trouble pronouncing her name, whereas Kira could pronounce it fluently. Kira always had a love of historical women and yes, Charlie found them interesting, but couldn’t give their name, relations, birth and death dates off the top of his head.
He managed to wave at the Shoshone woman and she offered a smile in return. They wouldn’t be able to communicate with the glass in the way - how inconvenient - but at least she seemed friendlier than the huns who had been chasing him and Larry earlier.
There also seemed to be civil war soldiers who apparently had loaded guns...brilliant. He didn’t know when they began to shoot one another, but all he knew was that suddenly the tranquility of the room was disrupted by the sound of guns firing and, well, Charlie had definitely not signed up for this.
He figured that the best thing he could do for now was go regroup with Larry because he couldn’t deal with mannequins firing at each other with actual ammo and he made a note to make sure every gun in this museum was unloaded for tomorrow. Because he rather liked being alive, thank you very much
“Fuck this job.” Charlie muttered, ducking a flying eagle and dodging a group of tribes people. “I am never entrusting Kira with my employment ever again. I didn't even give her permission! Can you fucking believe her?” He knew he was talking to himself. But it helped...sort of.
It didn't take him long to reach the hall of miniatures, but what he saw made him blink repeatedly.
“Charlie!” Larry was hogtied and half lying in the western diorama. There was also an assembled army of Romans at his feet, who turned at the yell of Charlie’s name. He felt vaguely sick. “Bit of help?”
“What the actual fuck is my life?” Charlie asked aloud. “I’ve been a good guy. I have never got a detention, I handed in my work on time. If this is for the gay thing, then God is a dick.”
“Charlie, I don’t really care about your religious beliefs right now.” Larry sighed.
“Men, -”
“No.” Charlie cut off the Roman general. “I have had enough. I have been dragged around while being chased by Huns, nearly fucking shot at by civil war soldiers and possibly awakened a wrathful mummy who may be suffering from claustrophobia because he has been locked in his sarcophagus for at least three thousand years. And that is in this museum tonight. I am in thousands of dollars worth of debt from college, I have been pushed around most of my fucking life and my friends hack into my private documents. I am not dealing with a miniature army of any nationality thank you very much.”
When Charlie had finished, he was panting slightly, and he was aware he was getting some pretty awkward looks from everyone there. He muttered an insult under his breath, stepped over the Roman army, pulled Larry onto his feet, the flimsy rope holding him down falling away easily and stormed off, dragging the older man with him. “Maybe there is someone around here who can explain what the fuck is going on.”
Fortunately for Charlie, there was someone who could explain what was going on.
His name was Theodore Roosevelt and Charlie really, really wished he could have been an obscure historical figure instead of a president. Charlie hated his life. He really did.
At least he was more accommodating than the other exhibits - Like, he hadn't tried to impale someone with his sword. Which was good. Really, really good.
Charlie didn't think he could cope with another person who harboured some grudge against night guards.
He led them to the Egyptian exhibit again and Charlie winced at the yelling and pounding and it hurt something in him. He darted past Teddy, kneeling beside the case.
“Hey, it's me again. I’ve brought some help.” Charlie said, keeping his voice loud and clear and totally not trembling. “It’s gonna be ok. We’ll let you out. Just breathe...can you breathe?”
“We can’t let him out.” Teddy sounded stunned at the mere suggestion and Charlie whirled on the spot to stare at him, wide eyed.
“You can’t actually be serious.” Charlie managed to say. “The poor guy is locked in there -”
“And has been for the past fifty years.” Teddy interrupted. “There is said to be a curse. We cannot unleash it upon the museum.”
“There is like, no proof of that.” Charlie retorted. Larry looked vaguely sick. “Maybe he’s claustrophobic or, you know, lonely?” Charlie was offended at the looks now given to him. He held his hands up in defense. “Or not. Yeah, sure, believe in the whole curse thing. I don’t really care.”
He did, though. Charlie himself absolutely hated the dark - he couldn’t stand it. Being stuck in a sarcophagus where it was dark and cold and small...it sounded like hell.
“Uh, I’m gonna hazard a guess that the glowing tablet has something to do with the exhibits coming to life?” Larry spoke up.
“Yes. The tablet of Ahkmenrah.” Teddy agreed. “Brought here fifty four years ago, and since then, every exhibit has come to life at night.”
“I didn’t sign up for this.” Charlie muttered, running a hand down his face. “In fact, I didn’t even sign up - Kira did.”
“...Kira?”
“The blonde one. Pierced ears, nose, rants about social injustice.” Charlie explained to Larry, who let out an ‘oh’ of recognition. “But that’s beside the point - we’ve got to keep the exhibits from destroying the museum overnight. Right? That’s right, right?” Charlie looked at Teddy, who nodded.
“You must make sure everyone is inside the museum when the sun rises, also, or else we turn to dust.”
“Dust?” Larry raised an eyebrow.
“Dust.” Teddy repeated.
“You are like freakin’ vampires.” Charlie muttered. It couldn’t be much harder than babysitting, right? Except, he was eighteen and the rest of the exhibits...weren’t. They were older. Much, much older. Suddenly, Charlie felt ridiculously inferior. Teddy gave Charlie a slightly confused look, before nodding slightly.
“I shall help you - but only tonight.” He said. “After that, it shall be up to you.”
It took until the end of the night to sort everything out and Charlie was yawning by the end of it. The only time he had felt as tired was during finals. Larry, on the other hand, was actually relatively awake.
“Go home.” He said, patting Charlie on the shoulder. “You look ready to pass out.”
“I’ve got to deal with this again tomorrow night.” Charlie muttered. “Ugh, I’m going to take you up on your offer. See you...tonight. I guess.” Larry bit his lip.
“Yeah, about that…”
“You are not quitting on me, Daley.” Charlie said, yawning at the end. “I can’t do this on my own. Think about Nicky.”
Larry looked contemplative.
“You...have a point.”
“I normally do.” Charlie offered a smile. “Good morning, Mr Daley.”
“Good morning, Mr Blake.”