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The funeral was lonely. It would have been less lonely had Bela and Jo been there, but there was a reason they weren't by Charlie’s side. Their cold, lifeless bodies lay in the two coffins at the front. They were dressed beautifully, Charlie had to admit, but that could never make up for the fact they were gone. There was a churning in her stomach that could be put down to survivor’s guilt, but Charlie thought it was more likely the loss of her lovers.
There weren't many people at the funeral. Bela didn't have a family, they all died when she was young. Most of Jo’s family were gone too, just her mother and her uncle, along with a few friends all three of them shared. In the front row, Jo’s Mom was crying into a tissue, Sam had a comforting arm on her back telling her some bullshit about Jo being in a better place. Jo wasn't in a better place; she was fucking dead.
Charlie was surprised to see Ruby turn up. Funerals didn't really seem like her thing, but she was one of Bela’s closest friends, she guessed. Ruby even dressed up nicely, tailored black trousers, a white blouse and black blazer. It was nice that Bela had touched someone so much that they would make such an effort.
As she stood at the back of the hall, Charlie tried to decide where to sit. She deserved to be in the front row, knowing Bela and Jo better than anyone, but she doubted many people would approve. Ellen had always been stand-offish with her, and she didn't even know Bobby. Still, Sam and Dean had inviting eyes, so she chose to sit between the brothers.
She didn't cry. The service went on, and everyone spoke kind words, but she didn't cry. The tears had all been shed in the hospital, when the doctor told Charlie the crash had killed both Bela and Jo. She had barely a scratch, and yet her lovers were dead. How was that fair?
The speeches made about Jo were beautiful. They detailed how bright and funny and passionate she was. How she was ready to fight at the drop of a hat, but also happy to help at the same pace. Only Ruby spoke about Bela, reminding everyone of her wit and charm. Charlie spoke about neither, she couldn't bring herself to. Even though everyone who spoke, poke through sobs and cries, Charlie couldn't embarrass herself like that. No one needed to know about their relationship, not the odd family friends nor the distant, distant relatives. Charlie needed to keep those precious memories for herself.
There was a party on afterwards, at the bar Ellen owned. Charlie didn't go. She didn't feel like partying. Of course, she knew it was a celebration of their lives, but finger foods and tequila shots didn't seem appropriate. Alcohol as a whole, seemed good. The general numbness from everything felt good.
Sam offered her a ride home from the funeral. She knew he was going to the party after, but he was right in thinking she couldn't drive herself. They always said never have over emotional people operate heavy machinery. Cars could come under that. Anyway, it was Charlie who drove when they were hit, it probably wasn't a wise decision to ever let her drive again.
As they pulled up outside Charlie’s apartment building, she could tell Sam had something to say, some words of wisdom dripping from the tip of his tongue. She didn't want to hear it, Sam was too optimistic. Charlie couldn't imagine a world where she could be happy without Bela and Jo. Somewhere deep inside her, there was a voice begging her to ask Sam to come in with her. Anything so she wouldn't be alone. But she couldn't do that to Sam.
With a small smile, she climbed out of the car. Brave face on, she could pretend for a second she was alright, just until she waved Sam off. The shallow breaths started as she turned into her building, continuing through her walk in the stairwell. Only when she reached her apartment, slammed her apartment door behind her, did she let herself cry.
Hot and heavy tears streamed down her face. There was no way to stop them. Bela and Jo were gone. Forever. Charlie had no one left. Her mind told her that was a lie, that she still had her friends. That meant nothing, not when the two most important people in her life were dead. She let herself slip to the floor and buried her head in her knees. Her mascara smudged onto the skirt of her dress.
She stayed there for a few minutes, maybe an hour, she didn't know. The tears eventually dried out, and that felt like the appropriate cue to grab a bottle of whiskey. There was a half drunk bottle on the side, slightly warm from being out all day. She’d started it the night before, but she had fallen asleep before she could finish it. For the most part, she was glad she had something left to numb the pain.
She didn't bother grabbing a glass. The odds of her finishing the bottle before going to bed were very high. The amber liquid tumbled down her throat, burning slightly but numbing the sadness. Alcohol had been a very good friend since Bela and Jo had been gone. Feelings were the enemy.
Charlie’s breath was still hitching as she drank the whiskey. The hiccups made it harder to drink, but it didn't stop her. Their sofa, the one they’d all chipped in for, felt too big for her. It was wide enough for all three of them to sit on, plus to have guests squished beside them, but that wouldn't matter ever again. The space either side of her felt cold, chilly enough to send shivers down her spine. She guessed it was because she was so used to having her girlfriends pressed to her side, that not having them there made her cold.
It didn't take long before the bottle was empty. The sticky liquid clung to her fingers, her lips, her throat as the last drop ran down the side of the bottle. With a sigh, she placed it on the wooden coffee table in front of her. She’d clear up in the morning.
Tired, she got up to go to bed. She headed towards her bedroom, their bedroom, but haltered before she could reach the handle. She couldn't sleep there, not after the funeral. It was the second night she’d spent in her apartment since the accident. For the first couple of nights, she slept in the hospital, mostly for observation of concussion, but she suspected the doctors were worried she’d try something. After that, she’d spent her time at Sam’s flat. The previous night, she’d stayed in her own apartment, but she fell asleep on the sofa. She wasn't ready to face the big empty space.
Hesitantly, she twisted the handle and swung the door open, to find the room exactly how they had left it the night of the accident. It even smelt like the sickly sweet perfume Bela always wore on their night outs. Charlie regretted how much she took that perfume for granted. Always fake gagging when Bela spritzed it into the air. Jo always did the same, giggling as she did so when Bela’s face turned to a stoney death glare. Those days were some of the best.
The wardrobe was still half open from the last time she’d been there. They’d been running late to whatever party Jo had gotten them invited to. Probably one of Gabriel’s, taking over his parent’s giant mansion. She hadn't even bothered to shut the door, and now all she could see were Bela’s fancy dresses and Jo’s favourite band shirts. The same bands would be playing at the funeral party. Charlie felt a pang in her chest, a longing for her lost lovers.
Slowly, she walked over to the wardrobe and grabbed the first shirt she could find. It had the Jack Daniel’s logo on it, and smelt like Jo and the hazy smoke of the Roadhouse. Everything about it felt familiar, and though Charlie wanted to cry, she needed the comfort of the soft cotton. For a second, her eyes lingered on the super king size bed they bought the second Bela became part of them. She couldn't do it. She couldn't sleep in such an empty space.
The door slammed shut on the way out of the bedroom. They had a spare room down the hallway, nothing more than a mattress and a couple of boxes containing everything they couldn't fit into the main bedroom. That was the best place for her, comfortable enough but not a place to remind her of what she’s lost.
She began to strip off her clothes. The black dress she’d chosen - more like had thrust at her by Sam that morning - was starting to trap her, confine her breathing. She yanked off the cardigan and then the dress, until she was in just her underwear. When she unhooked her bra, she let out a loud sigh, like she could finally breathe again. Quickly, she pulled on the t-shirt she’d brought from the other room to stop the chill from settling in her bones. She’d have to call her apartment manager about her heating in the morning, her room was nowhere near as warm as it should have been.
As she curled up on the mattress, a couple of blankets covering her. Charlie still couldn't get warm, no matter how much she moved around, how much she buried herself in the shirt, she couldn't make herself warm. Maybe she’d never be warm again, she didn't deserve it. Jo and Bela were the ones to provide warmth in her life, they probably took that with them.
Charlie began to sob as she thought of them both. Of their deft fingers and lingering touches. They would never be hers again.
Still crying, Charlie let herself drift into a fitful sleep.
When Charlie woke again, she was cold, colder than she could imagine. Slowly, she opened her eyes to find some sort of mist surrounding her. With a panicked shriek, she sat up so suddenly, the mist parted for a second. Then it pulled together again, creating the shape of a person. Charlie could swear she recognised them…
“Shhh…” Jo’s voice filled the otherwise silent room, and a hazy finger came up to stroke across Charlie’s lips. “Don’t panic.” Her voice was echoey, and Charlie couldn't tell if it was due to the emptiness of the room, or if it was just her. Jo’s tendrils of fingers curled through Charlie’s scarlet locks in a comforting way, and though Charlie was sure she was going crazy, she welcomed the feel of Jo.
“You- you’re dead?” Charlie questioned, watching Jo as she shimmied in the moonlight.
“We know,” another voice proclaimed, and Charlie turned her head to her other side to find a translucent Bela hugging her arm. The touches were soft and barely there, but still so life like. “We saw you crying and we couldn't bare it.”
“No- no, I have to be dreaming!” Charlie began to sob again, but the cool feeling surrounding her dropped to freezing temperatures. The images of Jo and Bela were pressed closer to her, hugging her. The embrace was too cold, but Charlie didn't care. She had her loves back. Even if it was just for a short time.
“No you’re not,” Jo argued, a playful smile dancing on her lips. “Charlie, we couldn't just leave you, not like this.”
“So…” Charlie started, but was silenced by the feel of Bela’s manicured nails pressed tightly against her lips.
“Ghosts, sweetheart,” Bela grinned devilishly. Charlie whimpered as Bela pulled away, leaving her side numb. On her other side, Jo pressed closer against Charlie’s body, until they were almost one person, entity. She still felt like Jo wasn't close enough. Bela drifted closer to her line of sight, so Charlie wouldn't have to keep turning her head to talk to either of them.
“Ghosts?” Charlie’s jaw fell open, shock numbing her brain. Playfully, Bela rolled her eyes, exactly like she used to before. There was no way she could have dreamt them up, this had to be Bela and Jo. The real Bela and Jo. Even if they were ghosts, it wouldn't matter, because they were there with her.
“You’re tired, love,” Jo whispered, her ghostly hand brushing a strand of hair from Charlie’s face. “Sleep, please.” Charlie laid back down on the mattress, eyes closing for a second. Two pairs of hands grabbed hold of her arms, huddling close to her. Then Charlie shot up.
“You’ll be gone when I wake up,” she accused, worry lines boring into her forehead. Chuckling, Bela’s barely their fingers pushed Charlie back down to the bed. “You can’t leave me again.” She knew how pathetic she sounded, but they were the loves of her life. She couldn't just let them go.
“We’ll be here when you wake up,” Bela whispered, cuddling close to Charlie’s side.
“We love you,” Jo added, voice echoing loudly in Charlie’s mind. Jo pushed herself into the nook between Charlie’s arm and her body.
The room felt cold, colder than she’d ever been, but Charlie didn't care. Her heart was warm enough to keep her alive. It was unbelievable that Bela and Jo were still there, that they were still by her side even after death. Smiling for the first time since the accident, Charlie let the darkness take over.
When she next woke, the ghosts by her side had gone. Charlie had never felt more alone.