Work Text:
Deaths didn’t happen often at St. Hilarion’s, but when they did, students were usually taken home and buried in family plots. This was especially the case when modern medicine became increasingly more accessible; when children died from plagues, families generally did not want to bring that plague back to their living household. As time went on, however, the student graveyard at St Hilarion's was no longer used for unlucky students with syphilis. Instead, it was used for those rare, once in a blue moon cases in which a student’s death or disappearance was strange. A mystery. An accident. An act of God. The kind of cases that sent goosebumps over the skin of outsiders. Cases that left the school administration stony faced and tight lipped.
Edwin was, of course, one such case. Technically, there was no body for him, so his family didn’t feel it was right to put him in the family plot. They did agree to put a headstone up at St. Hilarion’s after some time, since that was the last place he was seen. No one said it, but everyone assumed that he had died in there, and that his body was still tucked away in a long forgotten room, bones in the concrete foundation, heart beneath the floorboards.
Charles’ mother wanted to bring his body home to the family plot, but Charles’ father had vehemently refused. He had told Charles when he was first sent off to St. Hilarion’s that he was not to return without some kind of credentials proving his completion. Charles was allowed to visit home occasionally, at his mother's insistence, but he went less and less often. It wasn’t that he was avoiding his father; he could take that. He was much more concerned about the consequences his mother may have faced for those small visits. Maybe it was nothing. He had no proof that she was being hurt in any way, but for days after the visit, he could hardly sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, visions of his mother helpless on the floor plagued the back of his eyelids. The only peaceful sleep he ever had at St. Hilarion’s (or ever, for that matter) was the brief moment between life and death where he had been lulled by Edwin’s voice.
Apparently, Charles’ father had been very serious about his not returning without a diploma. He had put his foot down about Charles' final resting place, saying that if that boy was stupid enough to get himself killed at that school, that’s where he can stay .
Neither Charles nor Edwin were ever made aware of whatever burial did or did not happen for them. After all, Edwin was dragged to hell for decades of torture, and his actual death seemed so far in the past when he finally escaped. Charles may have had the opportunity to see his own, but Edwin was anxious to get as far away from Death as possible, and Charles had already made up his mind about that. If Edwin was going on the run, Charles was going with him. And they never once looked back.
“What are we even looking for?” Crystal asks, holding her arms out, gesturing to the cemetery around them.
“We should know when we find it,” Edwin says cryptically.
“Thanks for being so helpful,” Crystal responds, rolling her eyes. Edwin glances over at her, looking a bit smug.
“We’re looking for that one flower, right?” Niko’s sing-song voice confirms.
“Yeah,” Charles answers. “Last night, Edwin and I looked all over London for it.” He sighs, eyeing the unchanged St Hilarion's clocktower near the edge of the graveyard. “And now we’re here, for some bloody reason,” He adds quietly.
“You know we cannot proceed with this case until we find this flower. Its magical properties are paramount.” Edwin shoots an exasperated look at Charles. “We searched everywhere else we could think of, yes? And I know it used to grow here…”
“Yeah, mate,” Charles says. “A hundred years ago.”
“There have been no major ecological changes to this particular area in the last one hundred years.”
“Right, right. Whatever.” Charles crouches down to inspect the ground.
“Remember, we’re looking for a flower with small red petals.”
“So, like a rose?” Crystal asks.
“No, no,” Edwin sighs, as if he has to explain common sense. “Smaller than that. Much. They have many of those small petals. There should be a yellow dot in the center as well.”
“Oh, like a red aster?” Niko pipes up.
“Yes, I suppose that’s the most common flower that it bears resemblance to.” Edwin remarks. Niko smiles.
“All flowers have meanings you know,” She says to no one in particular. “I can’t remember the meaning for the red aster, but most red flowers mean love.”
Edwin nods absentmindedly, eyes scanning the grass of the graveyard.
“Hey, shouldn’t a bright red flower be easy to spot in all this green? If we haven't seen it already, it’s probably not here,” Crystal says, one hand resting on her hip.
“How many times do I have to say this? They are small , Crystal. And they rest very close to the ground. The back of the graveyard is less maintained, so if the flowers are there, they may be below the grass.”
“Ugh,” Crystal looks up at the sky, then she finally begins to move slowly, like a zombie with no one to chase. Niko walks with her, swaying in the wind, perfectly content to observe the grass and leaves and whatever else they may come upon.
Edwin starts up, walking towards the back of the graveyard. He makes one glance back to find Charles standing up straight, watching him. Edwin tips his head, a small motion, but Charles responds immediately, breaking into a casual jog to catch up with him.
“What is it, mate?” Charles asks.
“The girls seem like they have the first half covered.”
“They do?” Charles lets out a breathy laugh as he says it.
“Well… I did mostly look over that section already, but it’s good to have someone review my work. I do think we should move towards the back though. As I said to Crystal, the unkempt areas do seem more promising.”
Charles nods. They share a glance before Charles turns to the left and Edwin turns to the right, splitting the far half of the graveyard into two manageable sections.
Edwin walks slowly, eyes grazing over the tall grass and weeds. He can’t help catching his eye on some of the graves. He stops for a moment as he puts together the pieces of a puzzle that draws his mouth into a sharp line.
The front half of the graveyard is mostly dedicated to principals, professors, and the occasional staff member. Some of the headstones have the title carved into them, but others Edwin just assumes based on his mental calculations of birth and death dates. Now, though, he is cursing those mental calculations. The dates on the graves located in the neglected portion all have one sickening thing in common.
They are close together. Too close. Almost like they belong to…
Students.
The graveyard isn’t too large, and the back portion is definitely the smaller of the two, but the fact that St. Hilarion’s needed a student graveyard at all leaves dread sinking into the pit of his stomach. He continues forward with delicate steps, flowers forgotten in his stupor, analyzing each grave as he goes. Luckily, many of them seem old, older than him, so he can convince himself that it was a difficult time medically and St Hilarions simply couldn’t provide adequate care.
Edwin is pulled from his trance by a shout.
“Hey Edwin, mate, I think I found those flowers!” Charles is shouting, smiling, waving a small scarlet flower in the air. “There’s tons over here!” Charles reaches down to grab another, but Edwin sees him stop short. Instead of picking another flower, Charles pulls out a fistful of grass. And another. And then another.
“What is it?” Edwin calls out. After a moment, he sighs, knowing that Charles has probably just made the same disturbing discovery that he himself had made moments ago.
Charles doesn’t answer, doesn’t even look up. He just keeps tugging at the tall grass, surrounding himself with the uprooted plants.
Edwin takes short, unsure paces towards Charles, different from his usual graceful strides. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong, he realizes, because he swears he sees a tear fall from Charles face onto the ground below.
Charles stops his barrage abruptly and sits back. Edwin stills a few feet away, not sure if he should press forward or give his best friend some space. Charles looks up at him, eyes red, face streaked with tears.
“Edwin,” he says quietly, and there’s something in his voice that rips open Edwin’s chest. Charles looks back at the stones in front of him, eyes fixed once again on the cause of his desperate clawing. “You need to see this.”
Edwin moves careful, kneeling next to him before his eyes flit towards the headstones that Charles is fixated on.
Edwin’s lips part. He must let out a gasp or a sigh, because Charles reaches over and grabs his wrist. It doesn’t matter though, because everything feels so surreal, as if he could phase right through the Earth.
Edwin stares straight ahead at his own gravestone.
He didn’t even expect to have one, being without a body, although that's not the most jarring aspect of the picture being painted in front of him. His gravestone, looking old and faded, is next to another one, weathered but clearly newer.
Charles.
His brain feels like it’s been put through a grinder. Niko told him once that love requires no logic. The only thought his brain can produce now is that it isn’t just that love requires no logic. It’s that there is often no logic to be found. Because what he is seeing in front of him, his stone next to Charles’, nearly a century apart, makes no sense. And yet. Here it is.
“You found the flowers?” Niko yells, and the boys can hear her running through the grass behind them. She comes up by Edwin’s side, picking one of the flowers near his knee. “See? It looks just like a red aster!”
That’s when she notices that Edwin and Charles have not moved.
Crystal arrives near them now.
“Niko, I don’t have the energy to keep up with you when you take off like that,” She groans, then her eyes follow Niko’s train of sight. “Hey, what’s wrong?” She asks cautiously.
Charles lifts one of his hands, the other still locked around Edwin’s wrist, and points to the gravestones.
“Oh my god,” Crystal whispers.
“What?” Niko cranes her neck to read the letters. “Oh.”
“Do you guys like… need to be alone or something?” Crystal asks.
Edwin doesn’t check with Charles before he nods. Crystal chooses not to push it, accepting Edwin’s answer and turning away, pulling Niko behind her by a sweater sleeve.
“Mate,” Charles says softly.
“Yeah,” Edwin replies.
They stay silent for another moment. Edwin feels as though it’s impossible for him to speak, his tongue made of lead, molasses flowing through phantom veins.
“How?” Charles whispers, disturbing the heavy stillness that has descended upon the yard.
“I don’t know,” Edwin says. “I don’t know.” And it feels like that’s all he can say, so he says it again, quieter, smaller, and by the fourth time, Charles has moved his hand, sliding it up Edwin’s arm and threading it around Edwins shoulders, pulling him close.
Edwin mumbles nonsense into Charles' chest. He isn’t sure if he’s crying or not, just that something feels broken and healed, shattered and put delicately back in place.
“It’s okay, we’re okay,” Charles says, his head tilted down, nose nuzzled into Edwin’s hair.
Edwin nods.
He is convinced that he really does feel Charles sometimes, because he could’ve sworn he felt his warm breath on the top of his head. He felt Charles’ arm wrapped around him, his thumb swiping back and forth rhythmically on Edwin’s shoulder. It must be true.
The gesture, no matter how much of it is in his head, calms Edwin, his spiritual being finally feeling like his own. He starts to pull back, but he does, he feels Charles’ hand make a fist in the back of his jacket. Edwin wasn’t planning on going far anyway, but it still puts a smile on his face. Nice to know that Charles wants him to stay close. Edwin doesn’t move away any further, but he does turn his head, hoping to see the graves again without being hit by wave after wave of unexpected emotions.
It felt morbid at first, seeing him and Charles next to each other, both victims of horrible crimes and both symbols of injustice. But now, his eyes soften at the sight. The realization hits him with such force that it finds its way out on Edwin’s exhale.
“We’ve been together all this time.”
“Feels right, in a sad way, yeah?”
“Yes. It does.”
They sit on their knees, Edwin’s head resting on Charles, Charles’ fingers gripping his jacket like it’s the only thing that’s real.
“Do you think we would’ve been friends? If we were here at the same time, I mean.” Charles asks quietly.
“No,” Edwin says, shaking his head slightly. “You would’ve been too cool for me.”
“Even if it was back in 1916?” Charles laughs.
“Especially if it was in 1916,” Edwin says with a groan, but he can’t help the smile creeping across his face.
“Well I think we would’ve.” Charles states firmly.
“You do? Why?”
“Well, I’m glad you think I’m cool now, but I really wasn’t cool back then. I had friends but they were never really my friends, you know? I just didn’t have anyone else.”
“I didn’t have anyone at all.”
“Well then, I guess at least we would’ve had each other,” Charles says, but Edwin shakes his head.
“You never would've picked me,” he mumbles quietly.
“What?”
“I mean, we kind of don’t have any other options right now, do we?” Edwin says, but what he actually means is that while he himself has never had options, Charles’ only drawback is being dead. And if they weren’t dead, well…
“You do remember when we met, yeah?” Charles says in disbelief. “No one forced me to go with you. I wasn’t just running from Death. I was running with you. To you.”
Edwin runs out of words, opting just to nod tearfully.
“I’m serious,” Charles whispers. “I will always pick you.”
Edwin may have imagined it, but he thinks he feels a light kiss on his temple.
“Edwin,” Charles says abruptly. “Look.”
He looks around, but nothing stands out.
“What am I looking at?” Edwin says, because really, the only thing he’s been able to look at is the worn stones. Everything else just seems insignificant.
“The flowers,” Charles says, and oh shit, the flowers, the whole reason they came to this godforsaken cemetery in the first place.
Edwin finally sees what Charles sees. Small red flowers blossom around the graves, flourishing, radiating outward like a single flickering candle in a dark room.
Edwin turns his head to either side, scanning the graveyard. Even from down here by the grass, he can’t see the red flowers poking their heads out anywhere else. Yet here, near the two graves, they grow in overwhelming abundance.
“That is peculiar,” Edwin whispers. “I have never read anything about this.”
“Coincidence?” Charles suggests.
Edwin shakes his head slightly. “There are rarely such coincidences when it comes to the supernatural.”
“Something you don’t know?” Charles asks, pulling his head back to look down at Edwin.
Edwin looks back at him, mouth curling into a bashful smile.
“I will never know everything, Charles,” he says.
“Wow,” Charles laughs. “I’m holding you to that.”
Edwin rolls his eyes, but the smile doesn’t leave his face.
There’s a rustling behind them, and they both look back at the same time. Niko is standing a few feet back.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” She says. “I was just checking on you. Also, Crystal is getting very impatient back there. Any chance we could start picking some of these flowers?”
“Yes,” Edwin says. “That is why we are here after all.” He starts to shift, but Charles holds him in place briefly. He pulls him in close one last time, as though he resented time itself for pushing their moment along. Then he lets go, letting Edwin stand and following close behind.
Niko gestures towards Crystal, calling her over, and Crystal gives a huff as if to say it’s about time. She jogs over, and the four of them begin the task of pulling up some of the flowers.
“Don’t pull all of them,” Edwin blurts out after a moment. “Leave the flowers close to the graves where they are.”
Niko and Crystal share a glance, a sad sort of look. It’s almost pitying, and Edwin has to try his best to ignore it.
After they gather enough of the small red blooms, they start toward the exit of the graveyard. Charles catches Edwin looking back, watching the graves as though they were calling to him.
“Those graves aren’t us, you know that, yeah?” Charles says, and his voice feels like a soft caress against Edwin’s ears.
Edwin just nods. He’s afraid that if he speaks, he might start crying like before.
“It was nice to see them,” Charles continues, “especially seeing that they’re, like, together. But they don’t mean anything. Who we are now, the things we’ve done together - that’s what really matters.” He grabs Edwin’s hand, pulling him gently toward the exit. “We can’t look back, mate. We gotta look forward. And I’m always happy to look forward, as long as it’s with you.” He gives Edwin’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Let’s leave the past behind us, yeah?”
“Thank you,” Edwin says, and it’s almost inaudible, but he knows Charles heard him.
“Of course,” Charles replies.
“Oh!” Niko interjects. “I just remembered red asters mean!”
When she tells them, the boys can’t help but blush (as much as ghosts can) as they leave the cemetery, hand in hand.