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Edwin wasn’t having nightmares.
That would be ridiculous. Ghosts didn’t even sleep, which meant ghosts never dreamed, which certainly meant that they didn’t have nightmares.
Edwin sighed and turned to the next page. Not even Eternal Oddities had any idea of what might be wrong with him, and that text had gotten him and Charles out of more than its fair share of jams.
“Oh, blast it!” He closed the book harder than necessary. As he stood to reshelf it, he saw the flickering of light as Charles arrived through the mirror.
“All right, mate?” Charles asked. He slung off his jacket and threw it onto the back of the chair reserved for potential clients.
“I’m fine.” Edwin answered. He slid the book into its place between Essential Herbs and Existential Crises and the Dead . He’d had to reorganize their collection a decade and a half ago due to Charles’s incessant complaints. Apparently, remembering the last names of authors was too difficult. Charles was lucky Edwin wasn’t using the Dewey decimal system like he’d originally wanted.
“I’ve just come from Crystal’s, have you seen her new place yet? Her parents are next level rich. She’s all acting like it’s not a big deal but her flat, it’s got two levels and the stairs have this bannister, it looks like that movie we watched…”
Edwin nodded along as he continued browsing the bookshelf. Honestly, he was very happy for Crystal, happier that she wouldn’t be sleeping on their couch anymore. He had grown accustomed to, sure, even fond of the psychic, but there were limits to how much conversation he liked to have in a day. Not to mention, Charles still got moon-eyed half the time he was around her.
He brushed the spine of the next book on the shelf, Existential Crises of the Dead . Was that what his problem was? Maybe that witch had cast a spell or something on him before Lilith took her away. Humming, Edwin pulled the book down and flipped it open to the table of contents.
“Oi, mate, are you listening to me?” Charles circled around the desk and peered over his shoulder. “What are you even reading? We don’t have any open cases.”
“It’s nothing, just some light research.”
“‘Hysteric Behaviors, Errant Thoughts, Inability to Accept Death–’ What is this?”
Before Edwin could stop him, Charles snatched the book off the desk and closed it to read its cover.
“ Existential Crises? You call this light reading?”
Edwin made to take the book back, but Charles held it out of his reach. Edwin sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “My apologies if we have different definitions of what we consider light reading. I just want to be more prepared for future cases where we might run into–”
“‘Periods of Sleep-Like Trances?’” Charles turned the book to face him with a questioning look on his face.
“Let me see that!” Before Charles could react, Edwin grabbed the book from him and turned back to the desk.
Periods of Sleep-Like Trances Among the Dead: Although spectral beings do not possess the ability to sleep in the way the Living do, there have been few documented cases where the Dead fall into a sleep-like period, during which they enter a version of REM. During this time, the Dead can see visions, both positive and negative, of scenes from their time when living. The documented trances lasted no more than five to ten minutes. The cause of these trances is still unknown.
“Bollocks.” That couldn’t be what he had. He wasn’t seeing scenes from his life, or his death for that matter. Not to mention, his were lasting closer to thirty minutes to an hour. He was honestly lucky that Charles hadn’t walked in on him during one yet. This could be a lead, at least, though. Maybe he could try–
“Hello? Edwin? Can you hear me? Do you want to tell me what the hell’s going on?”
“What? Oh, nothing. Excuse me, I have some errands.”
Edwin grabbed his coat and headed to the mirror, but Charles cut him off, blocking him from his escape.
“No way, you need to tell me what’s going on. I thought we weren’t doing secrets anymore, yeah?”
“I–” Edwin finally looked up at Charles’s face. His eyes were pinched with worry and his mouth was turned down, the way it got when he was getting frustrated. Edwin sighed and returned to the desk, setting the book down with a soft thump.
“I’ve been having these dreams. Or, well, visions, I guess. Ghosts don’t dream.”
Charles followed him to the desk and leaned one against the side. “Since when?”
Edwin flinched, preparing for Charles’s anger with his answer. “Since everything with Port Townsend. Since we got back, really.”
He watched as Charles took a deep breath, pushed off the desk and began pacing. “A month? And you weren’t going to mention this? What are the visions of?”
“It wasn’t important! I thought it was just an after-effect of Esther’s machine, but then they didn’t go away, and I didn’t want to worry you and–”
“What are the visions of?” Charles asked again, leaning towards him across the desk.
There was a brief moment of silence as Edwin thought of how best to phrase his answer.
“Hell?” Before Charles could speak, Edwin continued, the words coming out in a rush. “But not my hell, it’s well, it wasn’t the Hell that actually happened, at least to me, and I hope will never happen but–Charles I really don’t want to describe the visions, what I want is to get them to stop.”
Charles grimaced and sat down in the chair. “Ok.” He stood again, tugging at his hair, before changing his mind and returning to the seat. “What’s the plan?”
–
The next thing Edwin knew, he was getting a tour of Crystal’s new flat, which, he had to agree with Charles, was “next level rich.” Crystal was just closing the door to her second walk-in closet when she turned and crossed her arms. “Ok, there’s your tour. Now tell me what’s going on.”
Edwin tucked his hands into his coat pockets and looked up, as if admiring the friezes along the ceiling. He should have known that Charles would turn to her. And yes her psychic abilities have been more than useful on the past handful of cases but really–
“Can you do a reading on Edwin? He’s been having nightmares.”
“Charles!”
“Nightmares?” Crystal ignored the two boys’ short squabble and turned a serious look on Edwin. “I thought you guys didn’t sleep.”
“We don’t, and they’re not nightmares.” Edwin straightened his coat. “And really, as I’ve already told Charles, psychics can’t do readings on ghosts, so there’s really no point in us further wasting your time, I’m sure you’ve got more unpacking to–”
“I mean, I can try.” Crystal shrugged at Edwin’s incredulous look. “I told you guys, that tree thing in my mind, maybe my ancestors can help.” Crystal turned away and walked to the window. It was raining, because it was London, but in the distance, Edwin could just make out a hint of blue sky. “Didn’t one of you guys say iron makes you, like, human for a second or something?”
“It weakens us, yes, makes us more corporeal, but no, we are still ghosts.” Edwin answered.
“And cat-scratches, too.” Charles added. Edwin shot a glare at him, which the other boy ignored.
“Which one works better? Like, makes you ‘corporeal’ or whatever for longer?”
“I wouldn’t use the term ‘better’ but cat scratches last for more time. Why?”
Crystal returned from the window and sat on her bed, with her legs folded under her.
“I’ve got an idea.”
–
Two hours and a trip to Tesco later, the three of them are in yet another alleyway, waving around a packet of tuna.
“Pss pss pss, come here, who wants a tasty treat!” Crystal was using a voice similar to how adults talk to infants, which Edwin didn’t understand. Cats hated being talked to like that.
Charles was off, digging around a dumpster, and Edwin knew he was going to make their office smell like rubbish, even without a proper body.
“I still don’t see why we couldn’t just go to an animal shelter. Surely, that would be easier than looking for a feral cat in the rain.”
“Because I’m tired of looking insane when I talk to you guys in public.” Crystal answered, without looking back at him. “Plus, if you’re really that impatient, you can always go and visit your little Cat King, I’m sure he’d be happy to help.”
Edwin ignored the heat rising to his face and scoffed. “As if he’d help. He’d probably make some deal again, trap me in some other dying American town for weeks.”
Crystal shot him a smile over her shoulder. “You don’t think he’d be happy to see you? He seemed pretty worried when we asked him for help.”
Edwin froze. “When did- What are you talking about?”
“When Esther had you guys, we went to the Cat King to see what he knew about killing her. He gave us her whole story. Really we probably couldn’t have done it without him. And…he was worried about you. Not enough to come and help obviously but still. Look at you, wooing royalty, finding a stray cat should be no problem.”
Edwin brushed past her to pull Charles out from behind the dumpster. “Now honestly, stop it, you’re going to smell–” Edwin paused when he met Charles’s eye.
“The Cat King, like, liked you?” Charles asked, eyes wide. “Wait, wait, and you knew? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it wasn’t important! We had other problems, and besides, he gave me the other option of counting the cats, which was obviously the one I accepted.”
Charles grabbed his arm and his voice turned dark. “What do you mean ‘option’? You never said he gave you a choice.”
“I–well.” Edwin sighed. He’d hoped he’d be able to move on from the Cat King with none of their little group the wiser, but of course Crystal had to share her opinions. “He expressed certain… interests in me. But, of course, it was preposterous, I would never–I mean, not with him, or anyone except–” Edwin cut himself off. This was too much. Charles had a look of disbelief on his face, while Crystal stood behind him trying to hide her laughter.
“Oh, enough of this. I’m returning to the office.” Edwin brushed off Charles’s hand and stalked away, ignoring Charles calling his name behind him.
–
The pattering of rain on the window was beginning to slow down, meaning Edwin could hear loud and clear as Crystal and Charles climbed the stairs to the office. Edwin sighed and closed his book, preparing himself for the upcoming discussion.
The door opened and the office was immediately filled with the sound of wailing.
“What is that?” Edwin said, his voice raised to be heard over the yells.
“We decided you were right and Crystal needed company in her new apartment. Meet Whiskers!” Charles said, brandishing a cardboard carrier.
“Her name is not Whiskers, and I’m only fostering her for a couple weeks.” Crystal said, taking the box from Charles. She slowly opened it, and out climbed a small kitten, with brown and black fur, yellow eyes shining.
“My name is actually Rebecca, thanks.” The cat said. It was interesting, the cat had what sounded like a Northern Irish accent. Maybe her mother had migrated from the island to London and passed on the dialect. That was curious, would her accent change as she adjusted to life in England? Or would living with Crystal impact–
“Mate! You’re killing me today, did you hear anything I just said?” Charles said, waving his hand in front of Edwin’s face. Crystal was petting the kitten behind the ears, explaining the plan to her.
“Just scratch him? That’s it? And you’ll let me stay in your apartment and feed me? I mean, if you insist, sure, no arguments here. He looks stiff enough, I’d’ve done it for free, honestly.”
Edwin took a step back at the cat’s approach.
“Now wait a second, I want to set a couple of ground rules.”
“Oh, come on, Edwin, don’t you trust me by now? I promise I won’t go rooting around in personal thoughts, ok?”
“I- can we just– ow!” Rebecca had taken it upon herself and dug her little nails into Edwin’s ankle.
“Quick! Before it wears off!” Charles said, pushing Edwin towards Crystal.
“Hold on, I’m not–”
Crystal’s hand closed around his wrist and Edwin’s world went black.
–
“Edwin! Help! Edwin! Hurry up, it’s right behind me–” Charles ran into Edwin, pushing him into the next room. “We need to go, it’s going to catch me, come on! Come on!”
Charles ran, pulling Edwin behind him. Blood ran down the side of Charles’s face, glinting in the faint light, and his clothes were stained brown with dirt and old blood. Behind them, Edwin heard the familiar scurrying of the doll head spider.
“Edwin, hurry up, you’re going too slow! It’s going to– NO!” A limb shot out and grabbed Charles around the neck, pulling him out of Edwin’s grip.
“Charles!” Edwin tried to grab him, but the spider was too fast. Edwin could do nothing as Charles struggled against the grip around his throat and the spider lowered him towards its mouth, the dolls’ dark eyes seeming to sharpen. Edwin watched helplessly as Charles was torn apart, blood splattering against the walls. “No! Charles!”
A force ran into Edwin and knocked him off his feet. When he looked up, it was Charles standing over him, reaching a hand down to help him stand. “Edwin! Help! Edwin! Hurry up, it’s right behind me, we need to run!”
“I– Charles, come on, I know where to go, I can get you out, we can–” A white leg struck forward, knocking Charles against the bloody wall. “Charles, no! Get up, we have to–”
Edwin watched as the spider pierced Charles’s chest with its pincers, pinning him against the wall. Blood spilled out of Charles’s mouth as he reached a hand out towards Edwin.
“Charles!” Edwin fell to his knees.
“Edwin, Edwin!” Somebody was shaking his shoulder. Edwin looked up, expecting the next incarnation of Charles, but–
“Crystal? What are you– Wait.” Edwin climbed to his feet, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. “This is–this is a dream. It’s not real. But how are you…?”
Edwin looked around. They were in a dark room. Or a dark somewhere. There was nothing around them but–
“Don’t freak out about the huge eyes. They’re fine. Everyone has them.”
Edwin made a sound that wasn’t quite a word as he took in the three huge eyeballs hovering above them.
“Where are we?” He finally managed to say.
“It’s like your subconscious, I guess? Or maybe your conscious. I’m not really sure. We’re in your mind.”
Edwin looked around again. “Are all minds this dark?” The only light came from the faint glow of the eyes. Edwin could just make out Crystal standing a bit aways from him.
“I mean all minds are different, but usually… I mean, maybe it’s because you’re a ghost, or maybe–”
“My time in Hell made my subconscious lose all light?”
Crystal shrugged. “You’re my first ghost mind I’ve been in, I don’t have all the answers.”
Edwin sat down in a heap. His heart was still racing, and he could still hear Charles’s screams echoing in his head. The darkness was seeming to close in around him, making it harder to breathe.
“Is it the same dream every time? You said they’ve been happening for weeks, right?”
“Ghosts don’t dream.”
“Oh, you know what I meant.” Crystal sat down next to him and placed her hand on his shoulder. “That was your hell, right? That’s what you went through for decades?”
Edwin brushed her hand off as he stood again. “I figured Charles would have told you.”
“I did ask, but he didn’t say. Said it wasn’t his business to share or something.”
Edwin turned away. “Yes, that was my hell.”
“Except this time it’s Charles–”
“Must you restate the obvious at every given opportunity? You were there, you saw it, now can we just–can you get out of my head please, you being witness to my memories doesn’t help me at all.”
“But Edwin, they’re not memories, right? They’re different. We need to figure out…” Crystal trailed off. When Edwin turned to face her, she was staring off into the distance.
“Crystal? What’s going–”
“Sh! Do you hear that? There’s something out there.” Crystal’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“Out there? Like in my mind? Wouldn’t I know about it?”
Crystal was beginning to creep in the direction of the noise. “Not if it didn’t want you to.”
“Crystal! I feel like this is a bad idea.” Edwin grabbed her arm to pull her back into the little light there was.
“Oh shush, do you want to stop these nightmares or not?”
“I mean, not if it means you dying in my mind. How would that work? Could you become a ghost, stuck inside me? That sounds like another version of hell, to be honest.”
“Edwin, can you please just shut up and let me do what I came here to do?”
Before she could go any farther, the ground began to shake, the eyes above them darting around.
“What’s happening? What is this?”
“I think the cat scratch must be wearing off. We don’t have much time, now come on!”
Edwin hurried after her into the darkness, but just before he could reach her, he was blinking his eyes against the light of the office.
“Edwin! You ok, mate?” Charles’s face appeared above him, blocking out the desk light.
Edwin accepted his hand, which pulled him back to his feet. Rebecca was sitting on the desk, grooming herself, and behind him, Crystal was blinking the fog out of his eyes.
“Did it work? What’d you see?” Charles said as he helped Crystal up next.
“Not much, thanks to Edwin.” Crystal answered, rubbing her hands against her eyes.
“Excuse me? You’re the one who invaded my mind with little to no warning–”
“And you didn’t let me do my job, so it was all pointless anyway!”
“Why would you want to go towards the mysterious noise in the darkness? When is that ever a good idea?”
“Don’t you fucking get it, Edwin? You’re the darkness! You’re afraid of yourself!”
Even Rebecca fell silent. Edwin stared at the wall and counted his breaths. His pointless, dead, breaths.
“I would like for you to leave.” He finally said, voice calm.
“Edwin, mate, can we just talk about this?” Charles reached out, touching his shoulder, and Edwin flashed back to the other Charles who did that, with his yellow cat eyes, making empty promises and fake wishes.
“No.” When the other two refused to move, Edwin grabbed his coat instead.
“Edwin–” Crystal began, but Edwin cut her off.
“I did not want to do this to begin with. I don’t need your help, I will figure this out on my own.”
“Edwin, we said no more secrets. What the hell’s going on?” Charles blocked him from the mirror again so Edwin turned towards the door. “Edwin! Come on!”
Edwin squinted his eyes shut against the memory of the last time he heard Charles say that, right before the spider pierced his heart. It wasn’t real, it didn’t happen, it won’t happen.
Edwin was suddenly hit by a wave of grief. Niko would understand this. Or maybe not understand, but she’d be on his side. She wouldn’t push him to talk, not like this and God, Edwin missed her.
Charles opened his mouth again, but before he could speak, there was a knock on the door.
Edwin’s eyes met Charles’s and they had a silent conversation. Business first. Edwin hung his coat up again and turned to open the door.
“Please come in, we’re the Dead Boy Detectives. What seems to be your problem?”
The man outside was tall and pale, his dark hair falling onto his forehead. A long black coat hung off his small frame and when Edwin looked closer, he could swear stars were twinkling in the inner lining.
“I think you’re the one with the problem today, Edwin.” The man stepped forward into the apartment. “My name is Morpheus.”
–
The god of dreams was sitting in their office. The god of dreams was sitting in their office, with a cat on his lap.
Edwin could not believe it, even as he watched Dream scratch Rebecca’s ears.
Dream spoke again, his voice deep. “When you are in the trance, are you aware that it’s not real?”
Edwin cleared his throat and tried to steady his voice. “Um, not in the beginning. It feels real, but it feels…wrong? I know it’s supposed to be, well, different, than how it actually happens.”
The god of dreams raised an eyebrow. “I’m going to need more details than that.”
Edwin looked over to where Charles was leaning against the back wall, Crystal on his other side.
“I, well, you see, I was in hell for a number of years. A technicality. I don’t belong there.” Edwin straightened his cuffs. “And in the trances, I’m back in my hell, but, well it’s not my hell.”
Dream stayed silent, a cue for him to continue.
Edwin sighed and pointedly did not look at his partner. “It’s Charles. Charles living my hell. And I can’t help him.”
“Mate–” Charles begins, but Edwin holds up a hand.
“Can you stop them?” Edwin looked Dream in the eyes. The other man sat back in his chair, and rested his hand on Rebecca’s coat.
“Are you sure it’s not your hell?” Dream asked, eyes darting towards Charles, for a moment.
“Charles is the one getting torn apart over and over this time. When it was my Hell, it was me.”
Dream nodded and his eyes turned to Crystal.
“You’re a psychic, right? Why do you think Edwin would be getting images of Charles’s Hell?”
Crystal glanced at the two of them, eyes sticking on Edwin. “I don’t think it is Charles’s, otherwise I think the roles would be reversed.”
“What do you mean?” Charles asked.
“I mean, your hell would be Edwin getting torn apart, right? And Edwin’s is you dying.”
“Watching the one you love suffer and being unable to help them.” Dream nodded in agreement. He turned his eyes toward Edwin again. “Escaping from Hell is no small feat. Being trapped with no escape in sight… I would not wish it on many, least of all a boy.” Dream stood and made his way to Edwin, stopping just in front of him. Edwin met his eyes and saw stars. “There is a misery wraith being born in your mind.” Dream reached out a hand and tapped Edwin’s temple. “I just ended it. The visions should stop.”
Edwin’s mouth fell open. “That’s it?”
“I can’t be having the Dead dreaming, I don’t have the time.” Dream answered. He stood to go, but paused at the door. “I won’t tell my sister that I found you, but do be more careful. She knows you are avoiding her. If she sees you, she’ll have no choice but to move you on.”
With that, Dream left, the door clicking shut behind him.
Edwin fell back into his chair, mouth agape.
“Fucking, hell. We just had a god in our office.” Charles said. He paced to the center of the floor before turning back to Edwin. “Did it work, do you think?”
Edwin shrugged. “Maybe? I hope so. A misery wraith being born in my mind. I should document this, I don’t think there’s a record of how misery wraiths come to be.”
Edwin started for his journal, but Charles reached out and caught his hand.
“Can we talk about this first, before you get all research-y?” Charles asked. Behind him, Crystal replaced Rebecca in her carrier and silently waved goodbye.
“What is there to talk about?”
Charles sat on the desk in front him, still holding Edwin’s notebook in his hand.
“Are you ok?”
“Splendid. I spent years in Hell, if you remember, a couple more dreams of it is manageable.” Edwin tried to take his notebook back, but Charles held on, his hand almost warm under his own.
“Edwin.” Charles leveled him a look, which Edwin returned.
“Charles.”
The staring contest didn’t last long, since Charles was never one for patience. “Fine, if you don’t want to talk, I will. I wish I could have helped more with this, mate. I felt useless all day today, only to find out you’ve been watching me die over and over? I mean–” Charles rocked back on the desk and looked up at the ceiling before meeting Edwin’s eye again. Edwin tried not to notice how close they were, sitting like that. “I hate that Hell keeps, like, following you everywhere. But you know, I’ll come back for you every time right?”
Edwin nodded and leaned back from the intense look in Charles’s eyes.
“It would be my hell, too, I think.” Charles continued. “Watching you die. Again, I guess. I still think about that, you know? We got out, but well, what if we didn’t? I don’t think I could do it, watch that thing kill you again.”
Charles finally pulled back and Edwin could breathe again.
“And then everything with the Cat King. I got so angry when I found out he was interested in you. Why? Why do I care?” Charles was pacing again. “My hell is you dying, and I got, well, I got jealous didn’t I? When I thought about you with that fucking Cat King.”
Charles turned toward Edwin again, almost angry. “Why the hell was I jealous?”
Edwin ignored the feelings that were growing in his chest. “I don’t think I can answer that, Charles.”
Charles stayed quiet for a moment, before turning back to Edwin. “Can I try something? Don’t get mad. If it doesn’t work, we forget about all of this.”
Edwin raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”
Charles stepped towards him, close enough that Edwin could feel his breath on his face. “I’m going to kiss you and then we’re not going to talk about it, alright?”
Edwin’s breath caught but he gave a small nod.
“Alright.”
Kissing Charles was not like kissing Monty. Kissing Charles was not like anything Edwin had ever felt before. His head felt light and his stomach felt heavy and his skin felt warm and he could feel Charles’s lips on his, he could bloody taste him, he hadn’t tasted anything in close to a century.
Suddenly, Charles drew back and met his eyes. They stared at each other for a moment before a small grin grew on Charles’s face. “Not gonna talk about it, right?”
“Right.” Edwin answered, and pulled Charles back in.