Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Charles knew Edwin didn't care for touch. He knew that. He'd known it since a few days after he'd died, when Edwin had become stiff as a board when Charles had thrown an arm over his shoulders. Edwin didn't care for touch, and so Charles didn't touch him. 

Not at first, at least. 

Slowly, over the decades, Edwin had warmed up to Charles casually touching him. First, it was that he no longer flinched when Charles accidentally brushed against him. Then, he'd only hesitated for a moment when Charles had held out a hand to help him off the floor when a particularly nasty ghost had knocked him flat. Eventually he only let out a sigh when Charles rested a hand on his shoulder or nudged him to get his attention, and after some time he didn't even sigh anymore but rather just let it happen. At some point, Charles caught a hint of a smile and noticed that Edwin even leaned into the touch a little bit. After a full decade had passed, Charles noticed that Edwin no longer pulled away when Charles grabbed his wrist as they ran or when he decided it was time for Edwin to be pulled away from his books. It was around the same time that he realized that Edwin sometimes even touched him first. Usually it was to nudge him away or simply a light touch on his arm to get his attention, but it was progress.

It was a decade and a half when Charles let his thoughts get the better of him and pulled Edwin into a hug for the first time in their friendship; it had only been a few seconds before he'd realized what he'd done and he was so ready to pull away and apologize profusely, but then Edwin had hugged him back. 

After that, Edwin had been a lot more open to Charles touching him. It became a natural part of their relationship, the way Charles would nudge Edwin with his knee or foot in admonishment, sitting in his usual spot on the corner of the desk as a client told them their story and got a sassy remark back from Edwin; the way Charles would sometimes rest a hand on his arm to get his attention. Edwin would sit reading a book, and Charles would come up behind him and rest his chin on Edwin's shoulder; Edwin would sigh as though annoyed, but the flipping of the pages would slow as he allowed Charles to catch up. Sometimes they'd share the couch and Charles would risk placing his legs into Edwin's lap, or sometimes Edwin would do something particularly clever and Charles would pat him on the back or squeeze his arm, and the other boy wouldn't push him away, even if he grew a little stiff under the affection. He allowed Charles to grip his shoulders when they faced each other as he tried to explain once again why he'd feel much better if Edwin learned to defend himself at least a little.

It was two decades before Edwin truly , for the first time, initiated touch. There had been the weak, light ones of before, but this was different. This was Edwin getting excited about something he'd read in their newest tome and deliberately reaching out, grabbing Charles’ arm, and pulling him into look at it until they stood side by side, until they were pressed together. And Edwin didn't even let go of his arm the entire time he'd excitedly explained something Charles couldn't even remember. 

After that, casual touches became more common from both sides. Now, they'd reach for each other as they ran from some crazy thing on their case of the week. Edwin would turn to whisper something to Charles they didn't want the client hearing, and their shoulders would be pressed together. When he was reading and Charles would wander over, Edwin almost looked expectant that Charles would begin leaning over him or resting on him as he tried to follow along and then inevitably got bored, content to instead just exist in the same space as his best friend. Some ghoul would explode over them and Edwin would reach out to help Charles clean off his coat, fixing his collar or straightening out a pin along the way.

Even still, even with Edwin growing so much more used to the way Charles loved touch and going as far to initiate it once in a while, touch wasn't exactly the most common. He may have grown comfortable in their years and years of friendship and partnership, but Edwin still had boundaries. He had limits to how long he would let Charles drape over him before a tenseness grew in him and Charles knew it was time to back away. There were days Edwin would give Charles a particular look when he began to approach and he knew that it meant while Edwin may allow him to be in his personal space, actually touching was off limits. Sometimes, they went near a week without so much as brushing against each other, let alone properly touching. And Heaven forbid if a stranger tried to touch him; Edwin would get this look on his face, and he could range anywhere from growing snippy and rude with whoever had done it, to near shutting down completely. And it wasn't that Edwin couldn't handle it all the time; when it was necessary, he became the picture of professionalism and powered through it, or if someone was in need of help, he would reach out to help, even if a grimace crossed his face while doing so.

But if someone startled him with a touch, especially if they did so from behind where Edwin couldn't even see they'd been there, Charles' hands would itch for his cricket bat as he told the person off harshly. He'd rather die all over again then see the look of fear that would always cross Edwin's face, as though he were right back to his schoolmates waking him up and manhandling him to be tied down. 

So in the decades they'd known each other, become best friends, started the agency together, and grown so inseparable they'd made promise after promise that Death herself would never separate them, touch eventually became a fairly normal part of their relationship. Charles knew that Edwin still didn't care for touch. He himself threw casual touches around as much as he did smiles, and he was often wanting to touch his best friend in some way, but he kept it reserved. He learned when Edwin would welcome it and when he wouldn't.

During their time in Port Townsend, however, he’d had this itching feeling in his brain that Edwin was stuck in a phase of absolutely not welcoming it. It hadn't been cut out completely, but Charles had felt hesitant about it in a way he hadn't since they'd first met. Edwin had been hiding things from him, and he'd been hiding things right back. 

Crystal had been a saving grace in more ways than one. She never pulled away from his touch and actively leaned into it or initiated it. Kissing her had been downright wonderful , even if that had had a stop put to it near immediately. Her touches were comforting and relieving and he reveled in it. 

It never made up for the lack of touch between himself and Edwin, but it was something bright and new despite everything going on around him. 

The last kiss he'd shared with Crystal had been before Esther had blown up Jenny's shop. Since then, Edwin had been tortured again, Niko had come so close to dying they'd been sure she wouldn't make it, they'd gone back to London, become semi-official employees of the Lost & Found Department, Crystal and Niko had flown to London and were becoming a permanent fixture of the Dead Boy Detectives Agency, and things were finally getting back to normal. He and Crystal had decided, after everything, that their short lived romance would stay short lived. They were better off as friends, considering one of them was a non-aging ghost and the other was a living girl trying to manage her powers and the rediscovery of a life not suitable to any romantic relationship right now. They were both more than okay with that, though. 

Overall, things were happy and good and relatively normal . 

His and Edwin's hug after being told that they could truly, finally stay together without fear seemed to officially erase all the space between them, thankfully. Charles was sure it had been the best hug he'd had in his life and afterlife combined, what with the way he swore he could feel it in his soul. Charles had no hesitation falling right back into the casual touches their relationship had grown used to. It was good. He should be perfectly happy. They no longer had to run and were properly safe for the first time in three decades, the air between them had cleared, he had Edwin and Crystal and Niko all by his side.

And yet. . .

He knew Edwin didn't care for touch. In the long run, he was the only person who got to truly touch Edwin, though Niko was a close second. He'd learned that he needed to be reserved with his touch when it came to his best friend. 

And yet. . .

Since they'd fallen out of hell, the Night Nurse slamming the door on the awful baby doll demon behind them, Charles had been itching to touch Edwin. And it wasn't like his usual touch-oriented personality just wishing to have some sort of contact. He could control that easily enough after all this time. 

No, this was something different.

This felt like a desperation . A need to be in Edwin's personal space, to keep his hands on him. He wanted to wrap his best friend in a hug and never let go, he wanted to sit as close as possible as they heard a new case. He wanted to take Niko’s place as she grabbed Edwin's hand to drag him to watch another one of her shows. He wanted to tuck Edwin against him as they sat on the couch. He would wrap an arm around Crystal and wish it was Edwin, who was merely across the room. And along with it came the staring. If they were in the same room, his eyes were on Edwin more often than they weren't. If they weren't in the same room, Charles would be sure to know exactly where his friend was and his eyes would flitter around until they were back together and he could see Edwin for himself. When he was touching Edwin, he never wanted it to end. His grip on his best friend's arm lingered for much longer, and maybe he rested his arm on Edwin's shoulder a few more times a day than he usually would. His hands would twitch whenever Edwin was in the right distance for him to reach out and come in contact with him.

But he couldn't be acting on it; he simply couldn't be in contact with Edwin all day like he wished. Because Edwin didn't care for touch. He wouldn't welcome this new clinginess from Charles. He'd probably think Charles insane. He'd start pulling away again, and Charles was not going to let that happen again. So he tried to control it. Tried to shove this almost painful desperation to touch his friend down as far as he could so that everything could just return to normal . He didn’t know what it all meant. He didn’t know if it had something to do with what Edwin had told him on the stairs. He didn’t think it did.

If it did, he knew it just added to the way Charles was trying his best to act like nothing was wrong. He’d told Edwin that it wouldn’t change anything between them, that they had plenty of time to figure things out and he’d meant it. He didn’t want Edwin to think any differently just because Charles was struggling to manage himself. Besides, so far they hadn't talked about it, and Edwin seemed perfectly content with that. Charles didn't want to mess that up.

In the end, it took him a week of this to realize what it was. Why he felt like he couldn't function when Edwin wasn't close to him. Why he'd felt irked one day when Crystal had realized that Charles was just waiting for Edwin to come back from a trip to a shop with Niko and made a joke about how “codependent" they were.

In the end, it took one mention from the Night Nurse. One mention during a rant where she once again expressed her never-ending annoyance for being stuck on this plane with “these insolent boys”. One mention of how much paperwork she’d had to fill out because she’d opened a door to Hell for them. 

After the two of them hadn’t been talking about it, after they were just ignoring it for now and trying to get back to normal, she had just dropped the reminder of Hell right on top of Charles. And he immediately knew. 

She said that word and something in his chest just seized . He’d felt lightheaded, which was a true feat for a ghost. The edges of his vision had gone black, and that overwhelming need to be in contact with Edwin washed over him to the point that his arm involuntarily jerked as if reaching out to Edwin, who was across the room, ignoring the Night Nurse’s rant in favor of reading an encyclopedia of poisonous fungi. 

If he’d been alive, if he’d actually needed to breathe, he was sure the air he’d sharply sucked in would have come with a wheezing sound. Charles’ eyes were blown wide as the sounds of Scottish ranting faded out and his focus was solely on Edwin. He needed to keep his eyes on Edwin. 

Because if he didn’t. . . 

If he didn’t have the ability to reach out and touch him. . . 

The last time he had stepped away from his best friend and taken his eyes off him, Edwin had been ripped away from him before he’d even had a chance to blink. He’d found him, only for Edwin to be pulled away once more. He’d found him again, only to turn around and watch a version of his best friend being torn to shreds. He’d gotten two steps ahead of him in the Lust room and Edwin had almost gotten pulled right back in. Then they’d gotten out and felt safe, if only for a day, only for a witch to come snatch them up, chaining Charles in her kitchen to listen to the way Edwin screamed while Charles was helpless to get to him.

Four times. Four times, one right after the other, that Edwin had been ripped away from him and Charles hadn’t been sure he’d be able to get him back. Four times when, if he’d still been alive, fear would have stopped his heart completely. 

And now that they were finally safe, with no risk of Hell coming for them, Charles was sitting here, trying to be happy about it all, trying to get back to normal, and he couldn’t trust it. Because their time in Port Townsend had proved to him again and again that as hard as he tries, Edwin can be taken away from him. He can and he has been. Four times in just the past few weeks. 

And the fear of that was gripping his mind and body and he couldn’t relax. He needed to know where Edwin was, he needed to be able to feel that he was real. Because he couldn’t go through it again. He couldn’t watch the most important person in the world to him be ripped away and made to suffer. And if it happened again- the thought made him shudder- he needed to be right next to Edwin to ensure that they didn’t get separated again. If Edwin got dragged back to Hell, Charles wouldn’t be going after him- he’d be right with him. Edwin wasn’t going without him. So he needed to keep an eye on him. He needed to be next to him and holding on tight. 

With everything they’d ever been through, every case and every time they'd run from Death and everything in Port Townsend and going down to Hell, Charles wasn’t sure he’d ever been so on edge. He’d always known, in the back of his mind, that losing Edwin was a possibility, and that their luck couldn’t actually last forever, but he’d always been able to shove that thought to the back of his head. He’d been able to ignore it. 

But now it was real. Now he’d had to go through it. Now it was at the very forefront of his mind. He couldn’t ignore it, even as Edwin and their friends relaxed and calmed around him, no longer worried about all the dangers they’d faced in the last weeks. Charles wanted to be like them. He wanted to feel safe. 

Yet here he was. Terrified out of his fucking mind. 

He couldn’t lose Edwin again. He just couldn’t. He wouldn’t let it happen.

Chapter Text

When Charles finally comes back to reality, Edwin is still across the room, but instead of his face being buried in his book, he’s staring right at Charles, a worried look on his face. Charles meets his gaze for a moment, swallowing hard as he tries to steel himself back to the happy, playful personality he’s always hid behind. A quick glance- quick, he needs to keep an eye on Edwin- around the room tells him that the Night Nurse is no longer in the office with them. Charles unnecessarily clears his throat, flashing a smile at Edwin. 

“Right. Where’d Charlie go then? Finally done shouting at us?”

Edwin’s frown gets deeper, his expression forming into something more akin to confusion. “Charles.”

“Yeah, mate?”

“She left a fair while ago. I’ve been speaking to you for several minutes now. Up until a few moments ago, I was under the impression you were listening to me.”

Charles repeatedly found himself glad that ghosts were unable to blush. 

“Ah,” he let out. There wasn’t a good way to back himself out of this one. “Sorry. I was just. . . out of it, I guess. What were you saying?”

He couldn’t very well tell Edwin that he’d lost consciousness for so long because he was panicking over the thought of losing him. It would make Edwin feel guilty, and then it would become a whole big thing, and they’d go back to walking on eggshells around each other, and if things were awkward, he couldn’t very well keep Edwin safe. 

“Charles, are you quite alright?”

Charles just gave him a smile, “Honest, mate. Look, she just has a way of putting you to sleep, doesn’t she? Always going off about how hard we made her life. Never met someone who needed a hobby so bad.” 

Edwin pursed his lips in a way that Charles had long since learned meant he was trying to hold back a smile. 

Good. 

If Edwin was on the edge of smiling, Charles had managed to walk himself back from the edge of the conversation he did not want to have.

“Well, in any case, I suppose I shan’t repeat what I’d been telling you. I don’t wish to bore you. Perhaps Niko-”

“Edwin. C’mon, mate.” The seizing in his chest was back as Edwin made a step towards the door. “When have you ever bored me talking about your books?”

Edwin raised an unimpressed eyebrow, “Frequently.”

Charles let out a laugh, “Yeah, okay. Maybe that’s true. But I never tell you that, do I? Besides, I didn’t hear you before, so I don’t know if I don’t want to hear about it yet.”

Edwin looked suspicious, but took a step back away from the door. Charles smiled wider, then hit the open spot next to him on the couch. 

“C’mon. Tell me about-” he glanced at the title again, “-poison fungus.”

Edwin pursed his lips once again, but moved over to the couch, taking the seat next to Charles. 

Best thing about this couch, Charles had always thought, was that it was small. It could fit two people fairly comfortably, maybe even three depending on how they chose to sit, but it also had a great effect of making personal space practically disappear. Absolutely perfect for wanting to keep your best friend close to you. As Edwin settled, Charles lifted his legs, depositing them right into Edwin’s lap. 

Something in him felt weird about it, as though he hadn’t done it countless times in the past. Edwin wasn’t even reacting to it, simply adjusting to the new weight on his lap, as he always did. Resting the book on top of Charles’ calves, as he always did. This was nothing new. It was completely normal. Thankfully, whatever weirdness Charles was feeling was overcome as the two settled in. The weight of the book on top of his legs and the feel of Edwin’s own below them had a near instantaneous affect. 

“Right, so there’s this particular one I was reading about- I believe we may have run across it on our last case. Good job Niko and Crystal hadn’t touched it. . .”

Charles let Edwin’s words wash over him, reacting in the right places as he described the frankly disgusting effects it would have had if one of the girls had touched it.

It was the calmest Charles had felt in weeks. 

***

Sleeping was something, Charles had quickly discovered, that was solely for the living. Ghosts didn’t need sleep. He’d been properly annoyed the first time he discovered that, when he’d mentioned to Edwin early on in their friendship that he wanted a nap and Edwin had informed him that it wasn’t exactly possible. 

Nowadays, it wasn’t often that he missed sleep. You get used to not needing it after so long, and then it becomes an afterthought that you ever did. Still, it was weird to think he’d not had a single dream in over three decades. 

Of course, that wasn’t to say that ghosts didn’t need rest. It wasn’t good for them, they’d learned, to simply keep running and solving cases and going on and on without bothering to take a break. They both still struggled with giving themselves enough time for that. Charles always wanted to keep moving, and Edwin’s mind was always looking for something new to learn, consume, solve. 

It always eventually caught up to them. After everything that had happened lately, Charles and Edwin weren’t surprised when it did. 

Though they couldn’t truly sleep, ghosts were able to enter a sleep-like state as long as they just allowed themselves long enough to do so. It was, essentially, a meditative state. Their mind would quiet, their limbs would still, and they could rest and recharge the way a living human would as they slept. 

If Charles had been smarter, he would have forced his best friend to take at least a few hours after Hell. But then there had been Crystal’s recovered memories to deal with and then Esther and then getting back to London and then they’d both forgotten that rest was something they even needed, as per usual. But then the four of them had been sitting around the office, Crystal trying to describe the reading she’d gotten off an object involved in their current case, and Charles, as he always was these days, was watching Edwin. The older ghost had been trying to look engaged at the beginning, Charles could tell, but now he had this glossed over look in his eyes and he reached up, rubbing at his temples. What’s worse, he noticed, is that Edwin was slouching in his chair. Slouching. Edwin Payne did not slouch, especially not when there was a case to worry about. Charles had noticed Edwin moving a bit slower in the past few days, and the way he’d reread a page three times before moving on in his book yesterday, but he didn’t think it had gotten quite so bad. 

He also didn’t seem to be listening to a word Crystal was saying, even when she directly asked him a question. Instead, after a moment, Edwin’s brain caught up, and he turned to Crystal with a confused look, letting out a “Hmm?”

Before Crystal could even begin to repeat herself, Charles pushed off the wall he was leaning against, making the short steps to where Edwin sat. 

“Right, that’s enough of that.” He gently gripped Edwin’s chin between his pointer finger and thumb, forcing the other to look at him. It took only a moment of looking over Edwin’s face, taking in the lethargic look in his eyes and the way he barely even reacted to Charles moving him around, to make his decision. 

“Edwin needs a break,” he announced to the girls, who were both watching with matching expressions of confusion. 

“Is he okay?” Niko asked quietly, and Charles flashed her a smile. 

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. He’s just exhausted. Ghosts get like that sometimes, when we don’t rest enough. Can’t focus and all that. Until he’s rested, he’ll be pretty bloody useless.”

Thankfully, neither of the girls seemed to question it, instead just giving him a nod. With Edwin the way he was, Charles wouldn't be surprised if they'd both noticed it as well. Edwin was still quiet in his chair, no doubt zoned out enough he wasn’t processing the room around him. 

“I’m just gonna take him somewhere quiet, yeah?”

“You can use my room,” Crystal volunteered. “Put him in an actual bed.”

Charles smiled at her in thanks. “That’d be aces. You two good here?”

Crystal smiled, “Mhmm. I might look into whether it’s a cursed object. Maybe I’ll give Tragic Mick a call. Niko can help.”

Charles nodded, turning his focus back to the fatigued ghost next to him. He ran a hand between Edwin’s shoulder blades to get his attention. 

“C’mon, mate. Let’s go.”

Edwin gave a sigh, but was pliant as Charles lifted him up to a standing position and took steps toward the mirror. 

“Wha. . ?” Edwin let out as they exited the floor length mirror on Crystal’s wall.

“You’re going to sleep, mate,” Charles whispered with a smile, guiding Edwin towards the bed. 

“Ghosts don’t sleep,” Edwin mumbled, leaning into Charles. The younger let out a quiet laugh. 

“Of course you’d care about technicalities when you’re too exhausted to move.” 

It didn’t take much to get Edwin to sit on the bed then guide his head onto one of the fluffy, fuzzy purple pillows Crystal had decorated with. 

“Rest time,” he announced before swiftly moving around to the other side of the bed to sit next to Edwin, his legs stretched out in front of him. Edwin’s eyes had closed as soon as he hit the pillow, but now he rolled over towards Charles, squinting up at him with a frown.

“What about you?”

Charles smiled softly down at him. “I’m fine, mate.”

In truth, he’d been feeling the exhaustion creeping up on him as well. He’d zoned out talking to Niko just yesterday, and he’d screwed up the organization of his bag of tricks. 

“You need rest,” Edwin mumbled, his eyes closing again. 

“Just go to sleep.”

Ghosts were particularly vulnerable when they were in their meditative state. They were still technically aware of their surroundings, since they weren’t really sleeping, but everything took much longer to process, and if caught off guard, ghosts could be captured, hurt, or worse. Usually, the two of them weren’t too worried about it, and they didn’t mind taking their rest at the same time. 

Not today. Charles could worry about his own another time. It wasn’t important, not when he needed to be sure that Edwin was cared for and safe.

Edwin huffed, but he was far too exhausted to argue with it. The older boy snuggled into the pillow, rolling a little closer to Charles as he did. Charles smiled down at him, feeling an ease enter his own body. 

“I’ve got you, Edwin,” he whispered. 

He watched his friend for a few minutes before biting his lip, lifting his hand off his own lap hesitantly. He almost set it right back down, but as though his arm had a mind of its own, his hand instead landed gently on the top of Edwin’s head, letting his hair slip between his fingers. He wasn’t sure why he seemed to have a shake to him as he let his hand run across this friend’s scalp. 

Who knew ghosts had such soft hair? 

Under his ministrations, Edwin let out a subconscious hum. Charles closed his eyes tightly for a moment, swallowing deeply. When he opened them again, his sight was immediately drawn back to Edwin’s relaxed frame. It was rare to see him so relaxed. Charles wasn’t sure anyone else had ever seen him like this- would ever see him like this. It was a shame, in a way, because Edwin could compare to the most famous works of art when he was like this. But Charles was happier for it as well. The rest of the world didn’t deserve to see him like this. All the rest of the world had ever done was hurt him, hunt him, make every attempt to take his spirit and crush it. And yet he was the best person Charles knew.

It was always striking to him- how deeply Edwin trusted him. How deeply he trusted Edwin. In his whole life, he’d never trusted anyone this way. The infinite, constant feeling of gratitude he had for his best friend swelled, and he smiled again. 

He leaned back against Crystal’s pillows, keeping his hand right where it was, his fingers separating and smoothing the brown strands. He’d stay right here while Edwin finally got the rest he needed and be here when he came back to consciousness, laughing when Edwin inevitably scolded him for not also getting the rest he definitely needed then thank him in the same breath. 

***

“Earth to Charles!”

He flinched away from the voice directly in his ear, whipping his head around to stare at Crystal, who was grinning at him like a maniac. If it hadn’t been for the way her arm was hooked in his, he wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t have fallen right off the park bench. 

“The bloody hell was that about?” his voice came out somewhat pitched, squeaky. 

Crystal just looked pleased, however, and Niko was hiding a grin behind her hand on Crystal's other side, her arm also linked with the psychic’s. “Tell me the last thing Niko said and I’ll apologize.”

Charles frowned, wracking his brain. This wasn’t fair. His eyelids were feeling heavy after this morning, when they’d wrapped up another case that involved him being the only one exerting any physical effort as he’d fought off a vengeful ghost with his cricket bat. 

“Something ‘bout. . . Jenny,” he mumbled. Lately, even when he wasn’t distracted, he’d been finding it hard to focus in on conversations. It was like the sounds were all simply washing over him.

“Charles. . .” Niko gave him a wide eyed look and a pleased looking smile. “That was, like, five minutes ago. Can ghosts develop hearing problems?”

His cheeks felt warm, which wasn’t even possible. He rolled his eyes, trying to hide his embarrassment, rolling right over Niko’s question. 

 “Yeah, well. That still doesn’t give this one an excuse for shoutin’ at me.”

Crystal rolled her eyes right back, squeezing his arm.

“You should go check on him,” Niko whispered, leaning around Crystal. Charles frowned in response. 

“What?” 

He knew, of course, exactly what she meant. There was a strange feeling in his chest, though, at being called out, and the urge to try and cover took control. 

Niko raised her eyebrows, an innocent look on her face. “Edwin. You should go over. He looks pretty lonely over there.”

Charles looked back at his best friend. He didn’t look lonely, he thought. Edwin looked perfectly in his element, his notebook out as he wandered around, writing down his findings. The field where Edwin had asked to stop on their group walk didn’t seem like anything special to Charles, but Edwin had said he wanted to inspect some of the flowers he hadn’t seen before. So they’d all agreed to stop and let Edwin investigate, while the three of them took a rest on a nearby bench. Charles had been glad for the rest; his body felt heavy in a way he didn't much care for.

“He looks fine,” Charles insisted, shifting in his seat. Looking fine was good. Fine meant that he wasn’t at any sort of danger, and Charles could try to relax for just a moment. 

The two girls shared a look, turning back to Charles with twin smiles. 

“Go. Check. On. Him.” Crystal said slowly, as though talking to a child who didn’t understand. 

He glanced ahead, to where Edwin was writing in his notebook once again, his lips turned up in a smile. At the sight, Charles felt his own smile form. Next to him, however, Crystal let out a groan while Niko giggled. He turned back to them, shaking his head just slightly, as if to clear his thoughts. 

“No, it’s, um. . . I’ll listen this time, promise.”

Yet as soon as the words were out of his mouth, his eyes were drawn back to his best friend. 

Crystal sighed, “Charles, seriously. Look, it hasn’t exactly been hard to tell where your head’s been at lately. We might not have decades of detective work under our belt, but we’re not blind.”

Niko hummed beside her. 

“You’d rather be with Edwin right now, so just go.”

Charles looked at them both, eyes wide, “Hey, no, that’s not-”

His friend just rolled her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, you love us, we know.”

She had this knowing glint in her eyes that Charles wasn’t sure that he liked. Their gazes held each other for a minute or so, and Charles felt like he was searching for something. 

Eventually, he let out a hum, extracting his arm and moving to stand up. 

“Fine,” he said, as though he was put out by it and not doing exactly what he wanted. “I’ll go check on Edwin, I suppose.”

“Have fun!” Niko said, giving a little wave. 

Charles took about two steps before he turned around, looking at Crystal again. 

“Hey, look. . .” he began, not even sure where he was going with it. There felt like there was a weight behind his own words that he couldn't understand. But Crystal just gave a little shake of her head, grinning up at him. 

“It’s okay.”

He didn’t even know why those two words were so important to him. He gave her a single nod back, then turned once again, continuing his way towards Edwin. It only took a few strides to reach where his best friend was crouched down, stroking a flower petal with his gloved finger. 

He crouched down next to him, and as he did so often in the office, hooked his chin over Edwin’s shoulder to peak down at the notes he was writing. It wasn’t the most comfortable position in the world, but Charles felt content either way with the feeling of Edwin’s rough jacket under his head. The older boy didn’t startle, instead letting out a light chuckle. 

“Charles,” he greeted, his pen never stopping its movement.

“Hiya. Found anything interesting?”

Edwin hummed, “Possibly. I’m going to have to bring my notes back to the office and compare. I wonder. . . Well, in any case, I’m just about finished. We can continue our walk.”

Charles shook his head as much as he could in their current position. “Nah, mate, take all the time you want.”

Despite his reassurance, Edwin just gave a hum, shutting his notebook anyway and shifting so they both had room to stand. As soon as he was dislodged, that itching feeling was right back in Charles’ mind, telling him to reach back out. 

“No, that was my last note.”

Charles shrugged, “If you insist.”

He looked down at the red flowers at their feet. He had no clue what they were, though they were bright and pretty. He understood Edwin’s fascination with them. 

Charles nudged Edwin with his elbow, “Hey, any chance these are poisonous or anything?”

Edwin raised an eyebrow, but shook his head, “I would seriously doubt it. They may, I believe, have magical implications, hence my need to look it up once we get back to the office, but unless involved in spellwork, there are no inherent properties.”

Charles grinned, “Brills.”

He bent down, plucking a few of the red flowers from the ground. Then, without much thought, he took a step closer to Edwin, carefully tucking them into his breast pocket and arranging them neatly. Then, he smoothed his hands over the lapels, adjusting the jacket that had ended up in an awkward position while Edwin had been crouching. After that, he brought his hands up, straightening out Edwin’s bowtie before resting them on his shoulders.

When he’d finished, he looked up at Edwin’s face to find his friend staring at him with wide eyes, his mouth slightly agape. 

“There we are, yeah? Got you looking like a proper detective.”

Edwin’s bewildered look faded, a smile taking over. 

“Yes,” he whispered quietly. “Thank you.” 

Charles matched the smile on his friend’s face, moving to sling an arm over his shoulders before guiding them back towards the girls. 

***

Sometimes, a client would question them when they asked how the client planned to cover the issue of payment. 

What use did a couple of ghosts have for money, anyway?

There were quite a lot of uses, it turned out- especially when you were running a detective's agency. They needed money to buy items for spell work and exorcisms, needed money for more books to stock Edwin’s ever growing curiosities, needed money for new Clue boards when one of them inevitably got too frustrated with a game, tossed it off the roof, and couldn’t find all the pieces when they went to pick it back up, and needed money when some new object caught Charles’ fancy and he wanted it added to his bag of tricks. 

Sometimes they did accept or give payment in the form of various objects and things, or an exchange of service, of course, but good, old fashioned money was always nice to have on hand. 

Mostly, they used it in various ghost-friendly magic and occult shops they’d found over the years. 

Especially after something like their most recent case, which involved a couple of very young teenage girls accidentally managing a proper seance and summoning a really messed up poltergeist. A really messed up poltergeist who managed to blow up, break, or render useless nearly everything they threw at it, including tearing to shreds one of Edwin’s favorite spell books. In short, their usual stock was running a little low. 

“Look, this shop isn’t like Tragic Mick’s, yeah?” Charles tried to explain, turning around to face the girls as they walked. 

“Even better,” Niko sighed out, smiling and nudging Crystal’s shoulder with hers. “New experiences are always good.”

Charles groaned, rolling his eyes. He glanced to Crystal for support, but the psychic just shrugged. 

“Always love a good magic shop,” she said, incredibly unhelpfully. 

“Crystal.”

Edwin let out a pleased sounding noise similar to a laugh. At the same time, Charles, still walking backwards, felt Edwin tug his arm, moving him two steps to the left. Charles flashed him a smile as he saw the large hole in the pavement Edwin had stopped him from tripping in, then turned the pleading look for support onto his friend.

“Remember, Charles, you are the one who wanted to keep her around. I told you when we met her that she never listens, so you are the one who gets to deal with the consequences.”

Charles frowned, turning his body back to the front, but Edwin just glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“You told them to stay home, too,” he complained, trying to ignore the almost dizzy-like feeling he had from spinning back around.

“Actually,” Edwin argued, “I believe I told all of you to stay home. It’s not as if I can’t handle Carissa’s shop myself.”

Charles’ jaw tensed. As if he was ever going to let that happen. 

He threw on a smile, “Well, it’s been ages since we’ve seen her, hasn’t it? You know me, always down for a good chat with Carissa.”

Carissa, the magic shop owner, was a witch who they swore had to be going on a hundred years old at this point. Never stopped her from flirting with them, though. The woman possessed one of the dirtiest minds Charles had ever come across in a person. He, of course, never hesitated to flirt back. It was like a game they played. Plus, it allowed Edwin to get his shopping done in peace.

Charles wasn’t sure he had the energy for it today, though. He usually had to pull on the full strength of his wit to keep up with Carissa, and, if he was being honest, he hadn’t been pulling them out as well as he usually did lately. He wasn't at his best with most things lately. It felt as though everything required more effort than it usually did. He was doing as much as he could to make sure none of the others noticed.

Edwin rolled his eyes, “You know, she may one day stop with the crude commentary if you didn’t encourage her.”

“Just a bit of fun, innit?” Charles smirked, leaning in closer to Edwin. Lowering his voice a notch, he added, “‘Sides, she knows she’s not my type.”

Edwin cleared his throat, straightening his shoulders. He did not look at Charles as he said, “The point is, I did not need any chaperone, let alone three, so you can be their minder, today, Charles.”

Charles groaned, but glanced back over his shoulder to look at Crystal and Niko, who were whispering between themselves. 

“Look, just. . . Don’t touch anything, alright? Carissa has, like, zero sense of order or inventory, so shit’s always in a different place every time we go here. Never know what might be a cursed object or poison or somethin’. We accidentally touched a necklace once that literally teleported us to Russia. Plus, some of her shit is proper dangerous. So just be careful.”

Niko nodded eagerly, and Crystal gave him a salute in response. 

Charles sighed. 

“We’re gonna end up back in Russia again,” he mumbled to Edwin, who once again gave him a look that told Charles that Edwin desperately wanted to bring up the “Infamous Puppy Debacle”. He ignored the look as his friend pushed open the door to the shop, the bell above the door ringing out an announcement of their arrival. 

“Ooh, now aren’t you lads a sight for sore eyes,” came a cheerful, creaky sounding voice the second they stepped in the door. “I thought you’d forgotten about little old me.”

Charles smiled, nudging Edwin, who gave him an unimpressed look. 

“Now how could we ever do that, Car?” he put on a sweet voice as the old witch came around the corner of one of her many, many shelves. She had the usual glint in her eyes she always gave them, her red-painted lips turned up in a sly grin. 

“Good afternoon, Carissa,” Edwin said, as formal as ever, hands clasped together behind his back. 

“Now, Edwin. . . No need for such formalities.” She raked her eyes up and down Edwin’s form, and Charles held back a laugh.

Then, Carissa squinted at them, growing an assessing look in her eyes. 

“Have you boys been out cheating on me?” she accused. Silence fell between them for a few moments before Charles held up his hands in surrender with a grimace.

“Maybe a bit,” he admitted reluctantly.

“But!” he called as she began raising her cane at them, “It wasn’t our fault! Well, it was, but- We just had to spend a little bit of time in America, that’s all. We couldn't exactly get to your shop, could we? But hey, we always come back to you, yeah?”

He finished off with a wink that had Edwin sighing, looking up at the ceiling as he did when he grew tired of Charles’ antics. Even still, it had the desired effect when Carissa calmed, her sly grin falling right back into place and her posture easing. 

“Fine,” she sighed. “What do you need today, my boys?”

“I’m looking for a replacement spell book. It’s a sort of small, red volume with a flowery design on the spine.”

They’d learned long ago that Carissa had an extremely helpful collection of books, but she didn’t know a title on any of them. It was best to describe it and hope she remembered if it was in stock. 

She winked at him, “Try the shelves in the back, luv.”

Edwin gave her a nod, then immediately began moving. Charles moved to follow him, but Carissa reached a hand out to stop him, gripping his arm with her long nails. 

“Going to introduce me to your friends, sweets?”

“Ah, right. This is Crystal and Niko. They’re perfectly human, and we do like them that way, so no tricks, eh, Car?”

“Mm,” Carissa hummed, giving the girls a long look before turning back to Charles, running her hand slowly up his arm. “Whatever you say. Maybe I’ll save the tricks for you and me later, hm?”

He heard Crystal stifle a laugh behind him, which he ignored. 

“We’ll be up at the till as soon as Edwin finds his book, yeah?”

Carissa acquiesced, despite the rather lewd stare she was giving him, and began moving back towards the counter deep in the shop.

Charles turned back to the girls.

“Probably best if you two either follow along with me, or. . .” he glanced around, “Ah. That corner over there is usually safe. Think she’s got a nice collection of sea glass over there.”

Niko let out an “Ooh”, immediately moving in the direction he was pointing, pulling Crystal along with her. 

“Oi! Shout if you get lost!”

He heard some sort of affirmative reply from Crystal, then gave a shake of his head. They were definitely going to get lost. 

He moved as swiftly as he could through the shelves, trying to find Edwin. A small part in the back of his mind said that he should probably be keeping a better eye on Crystal and Niko, but it was far overcome by the need to catch up to his friend. He’d already spent too long without keeping an eye on him. 

It took a bit of a jog and several wrong turns, but in the end it was only a couple minutes before he caught up to Edwin, who was standing stiffly at the end of an aisle, looking frustrated as he looked between the right and left turns he could take. 

“That blasted woman,” he mumbled as Charles came up behind him. “Never once has this shop been arranged in the same way. ‘In the back’, she says. Yes, and how exactly am I meant to get to the back?”

Charles laughed, feeling something settle in his mind as Edwin rambled.

“We’ve been shopping here long enough you think you’d be used to it,” he teased. 

“I suppose we’ll have to simply. . . pick a direction, then,” Edwin sighed. 

Charles hummed, looking down each new aisle, eyes scanning the shelves for any sort of clue as to where they needed to go. When he turned to the right, glancing at the bottom shelves, he froze. Meeting his eyes was one of the creepiest, damaged looking porcelain baby dolls he had ever seen. Sat next to it was another one, one of its eyes missing. Then another one, smeared with some sort of paint across the stomach and a leg missing. Another one, the head half smashed in. Another one. Another one. Another one.

A whole shelf of them, just waiting for them at the end of the aisle.  

Charles felt ill just looking at them. He sharply turned to Edwin, who was once again looking in exasperation at the ceiling, mumbling to himself. 

So he hadn’t seen them yet. Good. 

He’d always known that Edwin had a weird thing about porcelain dolls. The older boy grew tense and jumpy around them. 

It wasn’t until a few weeks ago that he’d realized why. 

For all the stories Edwin had told him about Hell, he’d never told him about the Dollhouse. Nor any of what he’d truly endured during his 70 years. It made Charles see red, thinking about what Edwin had had to suffer through based on a technicality. It felt like a stab straight into his soul thinking about what he’d seen when he went to get Edwin back. As he stared into the dolls’ lifeless eyes, his mind couldn’t help but conjure the image of that demon, Edwin screaming in its grip, being pulled further and further away until Charles couldn’t reach him anymore, his cries still echoing in his ears and fear spiking deep in his chest. 

He shuddered, closing his eyes tightly for a moment. When he opened them again, he had Edwin’s hand in his own. His friend let out a surprised sort of noise. 

“Charles-”

“Let’s go this way, yeah?” he let out quickly, gripping Edwin’s hand tighter as he dragged him to the left. 

“Why-”

“Either way we’re bound to get lost, right? Might as well go left. Always loved left.”

He prayed Edwin wouldn’t question him further. 

“If she just organized the shop, we wouldn’t have to get lost.”

Charles forced a smile, but just let out a hum in response. Thankfully, it was just a few minutes more that they wandered before stumbling across the back wall, finding shelves upon shelves stocked with various tomes and encyclopedias. Edwin let out a sigh of relief. He turned to Charles, raising his eyebrow with a somewhat expectant look. Charles just frowned back. 

“What?”

Edwin matched his look of confusion, eyes skipping around Charles’ face as if he was searching for something. 

From somewhere else, deep in the store, they heard what sounded suspiciously like a shriek of excitement from Niko. 

Charles grimaced, “Right, let’s find this book quick.”

Edwin still had a frown on his face, but hummed, stepping closer to the shelves to search. Charles stepped right with him. He stayed close to Edwin the rest of the time, sticking to his side as they found the book, and as he guided Edwin back to the front of the store without visiting the terrifying doll aisle, and as they negotiated price with Carissa, who stared at them with a look even more obvious than usual- which was saying a lot- and kept glancing them up and down, and as they collected the girls, and even still as they made their way out of the store and back towards the office. 

It wasn’t until they were back in the comfort of their office and Edwin moved away to put the replacement book where it belonged that he realized he’d never let go of Edwin’s hand. 

***

Charles was downright fuming at this point. 

This was ridiculous. Inappropriate. 

If it weren’t for Crystal’s warning grip on his arm, he’d probably already have thrown this boy right out on the street. 

But it was, unfortunately, undeniable that he probably did have a real case, and he wasn’t particularly in the mood for Edwin- or the Night Nurse- to lecture him about scaring off potential clients. 

Still, it didn’t stop anger growing in Charles when he watched the ghost in front of them- a newly dead teenager a few years older than they were, probably 18 or so. He didn’t have much of a memory, but he was sure he’d been murdered, which they agreed was a safe bet considering the state of him; he was new enough to being a ghost that he hadn’t figured out the whole self-presentation thing, and his plaid shirt was torn to shreds as it was when he’d died, revealing the knife marks below. The murder, becoming a ghost, and not moving on didn’t seem to matter much to the boy, however, considering that as soon as he’d stepped foot in the office and taken a look at Edwin, all of his attention seemed to be put into “shooting his shot”, as Crystal would put it. Edwin seemed to either be ignoring it, or perhaps didn’t even notice, but it seemed all Charles could focus on as the boy- Henry or something- gave Edwin yet another scan up and down, leaning over the desk with a smirk to get closer.  

Charles didn’t let Crystal’s hand hold him back this time, taking a step closer to Edwin. Henry didn’t seem to spare him a glance, eyes still trained on Edwin while the older detective was busy jotting something down in his notebook.

“Really don’t remember, I’m afraid,” Henry drawled out in response to Edwin’s question- Charles wasn’t even sure what it had been. He’d lost track of the conversation minutes ago, which was growing more and more usual these days, even when there wasn’t a newly murdered ghost hitting on his best friend. 

“Hm,” Edwin responded, snapping the book closed. “In that case, I believe it would be best to allow Crystal to do a reading, if you are amenable to that.”

Sometimes, Charles thought it would be funny if he had some way to go back and try to explain to the Edwin who had just met Crystal that not only would they be friends one day, but he would actively support her helping out on cases. As it was, Edwin was comfortable enough with her now that Crystal was already stepping forward, having known he'd ask her to do so. 

And then Henry had to go and speak again.

“Aw, sure you can’t be the one to go digging around inside me, handsome?”

At his words, all three of the detectives in the room tensed. Charles’ vision went funny, narrowing in on the ghost and darkening around the edges. He pursed his lips, taking another step closer to Edwin. His friend sat up straighter in his chair, shifting in a way that screamed, to those who knew him, that he was uncomfortable. It seemed that Edwin hadn’t been ignoring Henry’s advances all this time; he just genuinely hadn’t noticed. Charles glanced to where his backpack was hung on the coat rack, his hand itching for the weight of his cricket bat.

“That is not. . .” Edwin began, his voice pitched higher and tone tight. 

A thought crossed Charles’ mind, and he didn’t take a second to second guess himself, resting a hand on the back of Edwin’s neck gently, thumb swiping over the short hairs on his neck before moving his hand down and over until he had his arm slung over Edwin’s shoulders. He felt his friend ease a little under the touch, but Charles kept his gaze trained on Henry, who was watching the movement like a hawk. 

“I am not a psychic, Henry,” Edwin stated dryly, standing from his chair and straightening out his jacket. Charles couldn’t help the pleased feeling in his chest when Edwin took a half step back, towards him. “If you wish for us to take your case, you will have to let Crystal take a look.”

Henry feigned a pout, but sat back in his chair and allowed Crystal to take a step closer. 

“Don’t go digging too deep, kay, sweetheart?” Henry smirked at her, sparing a moment to ogle her, too, which did absolutely nothing but earn himself one of those fiery looks in Crystal’s eyes when a man had the audacity to insult her. He was grateful that Niko was out today; who knows what kind of names and looks he’d have hurled her way.

“Gotta save some of my secrets,” he winked at Edwin. Crystal gave them both a look of disgust, silently asking “Do I have to do this?”

Edwin, ever the one to try and talk his way out of an incident, raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure what you are implying, Henry, but if we are to help you, we do need your utmost cooperation. Please do not try and hide anything.”

Henry laughed like Edwin was the funniest person he’d ever come across. “Well, if there’s anything your little girl here can’t find-”

“Little girl?”

“-I think the two of us can always. . . work something out. Together. Alone.” 

Edwin took a deep breath, steeling his posture. Silently, heat building under his skin, Charles shifted to take his hand off Edwin’s shoulder and instead threading their fingers together as he stared down Henry. One wrong move and Charles was using whatever strength he could muster to punch this jerk in the mouth. 

Maybe he’d find another ancient fish and throw him in. Based off the look she was giving Henry, he was sure that Crystal would have no problem with that this time around. 

“I suggest you watch your mouth,” Charles said with fake cheer, “‘Cause there’s absolutely nothing saying we have to take your case, and we’re not in the habit of helping out arseholes.”

He gave a gentle tug on Edwin’s hand, pulling him into his side. He looked at Edwin, a soft smile on his face. “Isn’t that right, love?”

He felt Edwin’s hand twitch in his own, but other than that, his friend gave no indication that anything was amiss. He even leaned into Charles, meeting his eyes. Charles wasn’t quite sure how to read the look he was met with. As subtle as he could, he raised an eyebrow in question, to which Edwin gave an almost imperceptible nod. 

Good. This was okay, then. Good. 

Charles smiled wider, moving until he was now standing just behind Edwin’s left side, arms carefully looped around his waist, the two of them now resting against each other. Charles was grateful for the extra support Edwin was adding; his body felt a little less heavy this way. Thankfully Crystal was standing behind Henry, because her wide eyed look and agape mouth would have given them away immediately. 

“Charles is correct. Without having made a deal for payment yet, we are under absolutely no obligation to help you out.”

Henry’s jaw had grown tense, and he was looking between them with narrowed eyes. He actually sneered at Charles, who simply gave him a dry, challenging look. 

“Really?” Henry questioned, looking at Charles. “You?”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Charles replied coldly.

“Charles,” Edwin whispered, reaching up and squeezing one of his wrists. 

But Henry just leaned back in his chair, pulling at his ripped shirt until it revealed even more of his chest. The pain from tensing his jaw grew worse at the sight. 

“Look, babe, how about you just drop the twink, hm?”

“Hey!” Charles protested, though Edwin just looked confused as usual by the modern terminology.

“And as for payment? I’m sure we can. . .” he gestured to his own body, “Work something out, yeah?”

Edwin physically flinched in his arms.

“Right,” Charles snapped. “That’s it.”

He separated from Edwin, marching around the desk and gripping Henry’s collar. He dragged the ghost up and out of the chair, moving towards the door. He blamed the way he stumbled on the weight of Henry struggling against him.

“You’ve insulted Crystal, repeatedly made my partner uncomfortable, and me- I’m just fucking angry.”

Charles ripped open the door, shoving Henry out of it. The ghost stumbled, falling against the opposite wall. 

“Get the fuck out of our office, and don’t come back. I swear to Death herself, I see your face again, you’ll wish that being murdered was the worst thing to happen to you.”

With that, Charles slammed the door, the sound ringing through the office for a minute. He took a moment, letting out a deep breath and leaning his forehead against the door. His vision was still funny, still black around the edges. Blinking was doing nothing to clear it away.

When he turned around, both Crystal and Edwin were staring at him with wide eyes. Crystal looked awkward, like she was trying to make herself smaller, but Edwin had his mouth dropped open, a strange look on his face. Almost akin to. . . awe. He was grateful that, at least, neither of them were watching him the way they had at the lighthouse when he'd beaten the Night Nurse. Charles just looked between them, keeping silent. 

His jaw hurt, his body feeling weak as he released the tension he’d be holding, and his mind was feeling slow as he tried to focus out of the anger. Eventually, his eyes landed on Edwin, as they always did. The two of them silently met each other’s gazes. Charles swallowed hard, not sure what to say. Edwin looked just as much as a loss for words. Part of Charles felt like he should be apologizing. 

He wasn’t sure how long they stood there, watching each other before Crystal cleared her throat and both their gazes snapped to her. 

“Okay. So, I’m just gonna. . . Make sure he actually left. And if he hasn't, maybe I'll take a turn yelling at him, too. Just for fun.” 

She flashed them both a weak smile, moving towards the door. She squeezed Charles’ arm as she moved around him. He was glad, though he felt bad as soon as the feeling hit him, that she was leaving for a bit. He loved Crystal, but lately, everything felt safest when it was just him and Edwin. No distractions. He could make sure his friend was safe. 

“Fucking pervert,” she mumbled as she closed the door behind her, and Charles couldn’t help the huffed laughter that came out of him at the sound. 

Fucking pervert was right. Who the hell thought they could just walk into a place of business- their place of business- and act like that? 

Charles felt a new flash of anger as he remembered the crude look he’d been using to undress Edwin with his eyes. 

Edwin, who was still staring at Charles, his posture stiff.

“Hi,” Charles whispered, at a loss for what else to say.

“Charles. . . That was. . .”

Charles grimaced, looking down at the floor, opening and closing his fists. 

“Please, mate. Don’t say. . . Don’t say it was extreme.”

He heard Edwin gasp, “No. Charles, no, that is not what I was going to say.”

He glanced up at Edwin, who looked almost sad as he watched him now. 

“Yeah?”

Edwin hummed, giving a nod. “I. . . apologize for what I said that night. I know that you were protecting us- protecting me. ”

Edwin always looked awkward when he worked his way through an apology. Charles flashed a smile at him, feeling awkward himself. He hated feeling any sort of tension between himself and Edwin. 

“I’ve always appreciated it, you know. The way you are. . . always protecting me.”

“Of course I am,” Charles said quietly, moving back towards the desk. “Nothing else I’d rather do.”

Edwin smiled, looking down at the desk. “The way you did so was. . . interesting, this time around.”

Charles wasn’t sure what to make of the tone in his voice. It was that one he liked to use when he wanted to broach a topic but didn’t want to make too big a deal out of it. 

Charles shrugged, which felt like it took far more out of him than he was willing to admit. Anger was always an exhausting emotion. His vision still wasn’t getting back to normal. 

“‘S’like you’re always telling me, innit? I make decisions based on whatever I’m feelin’ in the moment.”

Charles eased himself forward, towards the couch. Sitting sounded good. 

“And in this moment,” Edwin frowned at him, wringing his hands together, “you were feeling as though. . . you should make him believe we are. . . together?”

Charles just let out a hum in response, falling back to let the couch support his entire weight. His head felt a bit funny, like a headache. He closed his eyes with a frown. When had that happened? Could ghosts even get headaches? That seemed weird. 

“Charles?”

He’s pretty sure he let out another hum in response. 

“Charles!”

His head snapped forward in surprise, eyes flying back open. He looked to Edwin, who was watching him with a furrowed brow, eyes flickering over his face. Charles took a deep intake of air, trying to remember what he’d meant to say. 

“Seemed like the easiest way to get him to back off,” he eventually said. “Didn’t work, obviously.”

He let his head fall back once more. “Fuckin’ wanker.”

He heard Edwin let out a sound akin to a laugh. “Yes, he was quite. . . awful.”

“That’s puttin’ it pretty light, mate.” 

His words came out slowly, but he forced himself to lull his head to the side so he could look at Edwin. 

“Are you alright, Charles?” Edwin asked, watching him with a concerned look. 

“Course. Just tired, aren’t I? Defending your honor takes a lot of work, you know.”

He tried for a smile, maybe even a laugh, but Edwin didn’t give him either. He looked too far away, Charles thought. He hated that. 

“Right, well. I would like to discuss your. . . methods. If possible.”

Charles frowned, his gaze sluggishly looking over his best friend. 

“I don’t suppose you remember. . .” Edwin began, his fist pushed together in front of his chest. Charles wanted to tell him off for that, get him to relax, but the words didn’t come. “Well, no, I’m sure you do. Why wouldn’t you? It was- Right. I wanted to-”

It had been a long time since Charles had heard Edwin sound so on edge as he spoke to him. He put whatever effort he had into forcing himself to sit up, despite the comfort of the couch calling his name. He pushed up off his seat, biting back a wince as he did so. He took a few steps towards Edwin, then paused to lean against the desk, putting his weight on the sturdy wood. 

“Edwin, mate. You know you can talk to me about anything.”

Through his weird vision- it was almost blurry , strangely enough- he saw Edwin give a stiff nod, then straighten himself up as though preparing for a blow. 

“Yes. Yes, I know. Just. . . Well, I wanted to talk to you about. . . About what I told you when we were leaving Hell.”

A strange feeling ran down Charles’ spine. He was glad he was mostly sitting on the desk now, with the way it hit him. 

“Oh,” he breathed out. His fingers twitched, as if remembering the feeling of being intertwined with Edwin’s. 

“Yes,” Edwin nodded his head once. “I know that what I. . . confessed, it must have been shocking for you.”

“Edwin. . .” he sighed, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. There was something he’d been thinking to tell him. Something about. . . 

“And I truly appreciate that it has not changed anything between our friendship, as you said it wouldn't. But if it caused any. . . problems, or if you’re simply trying to make me feel better by not changing anything, like how you. . . touch me, or-”

“I’m not,” Charles replied, but it sounded far weaker than he meant it to. 

“Well, in any case. I don’t want you to feel as though you have to act any certain way. As I said, I always appreciate your sense of protection over me, but I do not want you to be uncomfortable by pretending to. . . return my feelings just for my protection. That is simply unfair to you.”

Charles felt dizzy as Edwin’s words hit him. 

“Pretending?” he mumbled out with a frown, that weird itch in the back of his brain growing worse at the implication. 

What was Edwin talking about anyway? Unfair to him? If anything, wouldn’t it be unfair to Edwin if he were to show any affection he didn’t mean? 

The room was spinning, but he tried his level best to continue meeting Edwin’s gaze. 

“Edwin, listen.” 

Was it just him, or were his words coming out almost slurred?

“That is not-”

“Charles?” Edwin’s concerned voice was back, just barely reaching his ears. It sounded like he was far away. 

“No,” he mumbled, the thought of Edwin being far away striking yet another pang of fear. He hated it when Edwin was far away. 

“Fuck,” he heard next. He was pretty sure that was still his friend’s voice. 

His head dropped forward. 

That wasn’t right. He was supposed to be. . . listening. To. . . someone. Someone was talking. 

“Fuck, you absolute idiot. You never did rest, did you?”

No. No, rest wasn’t important. 

Something else was important. Something. . . He had to keep something safe. 

Someone. 

Edwin. 

Edwin needed to be safe. He couldn’t get taken away again. 

Charles couldn’t remember where he was trying to keep Edwin safe from. 

“Charles, can you hear me? I need you to stand, alright? We’re just going to move over to the-”

“Edwin?” he let out, barely audible. He couldn’t be sure he’d even actually said it. “Edwin. . .”

Finally, the world around him faded to black.

***

Chapter Text

It was slow, the return to consciousness. First, he registered his own body, the way his limbs were comfortably curled together and felt lighter than they had in weeks. He could feel cushioning beneath him. He scrunched his eyes tighter shut than they already were. 

His headache was gone. 

Eventually, the sound of whispers reached his ears. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but he was pretty sure it sounded like. . . Crystal. And Niko. 

He relaxed a little further. Those were good sounds. He trusted them. 

It took a few more minutes, but eventually, Charles blinked his eyes open. 

He was in the office, laid out on the couch. His shirt and suspenders had been removed so he was only in his tank top, and he could see his shoes had been carefully placed on the floor nearby. Across the room, near one of the bookshelves, were Crystal and Niko whispering with their heads together, just as he’d suspected. 

He smiled a little at the sight of his friends. 

“Hey,” he let out weakly. 

Then he watched as both girls jumped near out of their skin, with Crystal spinning around to face him, shouting out, “Holy shit!” 

Niko was giving him a wide smile, looking relieved to see him. 

That seemed weird. Why was she relieved? 

Why was he even on the couch in the first place? 

Charles couldn’t remember. 

“Wha’ happened?” Charles mumbled, rubbing his eyes hard enough he saw spots. He forced himself to sit up, letting out a groan as his body protested. When he opened his eyes again, Crystal was crouched in front of him, her hand firmly gripping his knee and a kind, reassuring smile on her face. 

“Hey. How are you feeling?” she asked gently. Charles frowned in response. 

“Fine?” he answered, confused. Why was she even asking him that?

“Do you remember what happened?” she asked next.

Slowly, he shook his head. He felt like he should remember. It had been something important, he thought. 

“You collapsed,” his friend explained. 

Now that did sound familiar. He could vaguely recall the way his vision had started to go black, the way his body had begun falling to the ground. 

“You’ve been out for almost 12 hours. Edwin said it was the worst case of ghost exhaustion he’s ever seen. He was worried that-”

Whatever she said next faded to the background. 

Panic flooded him as it all came crashing back. Pushing himself through everything despite the exhaustion he’d been feeling, the last few weeks since Port Townsend, the desperation that had been crawling like a parasite under his skin since Hell, the twitch in his hands whenever his best friend was near, the fear, Edwin. 

Edwin, Edwin, Edwin. 

Any leftover exhaustion he’d been feeling was practically zapped from his body as he registered Crystal’s words.

You’ve been out for almost 12 hours. 

Twelve hours. 

Twelve. 

“Fuck!” Charles shouted, his outburst making Crystal jump once again. Gripping the cushion below him in his fists, he frantically searched the room. 

No, no, no, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. 

“Where’s-” His chest seized; if he’d still needed to breathe, he was sure the panic would’ve taken the ability away. “Where’s Edwin?”

Crystal frowned at him. 

No, no, no. 

“What? He’s just-”

“Where is he?” Charles gasped out, stumbling into a standing position, not even noticing the way it knocked Crystal to the ground. His eyes were still frantically searching the room, as if his friend would just randomly appear. 

Fuck, how could he have been so stupid? 

How could he have been out for 12 fucking hours? All that time, where anything could have happened. All that time that he wasn’t watching Edwin, wasn’t protecting him. 

It was like a wild man had taken over his body, the way he began searching the office with a reckless abandon. He moved to the closet, throwing open the door. He looked around every bookshelf, he moved whatever was in his way around or threw it to the floor to get to the next cramped corner of their office, hoping that Edwin was simply hiding somewhere. 

He had to be. He had to be here. 

Because if he wasn’t. . .

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” 

His voice sounded far away, even to his own ears. 

“Charles! I promise, it’s okay. Just slow down and talk to us.” 

He could hear Crystal somewhere else in the room, could hear the concern and fear in her voice, but he didn’t answer her as he took one last frantic look around the room, a shaky hand coming up to cover his mouth. 

“Charles?” A hand landed on his bicep, but he flinched, stumbling backwards into the wall. 

Niko pulled her hand away as though she had been burned, her eyes giving him one of the saddest, most concerned looks he’d ever seen from her.

He stared at her, eyes blown wide. 

Could ghosts hyperventilate? Sure fucking felt like it.  

Niko wasn’t allowed to give him that look. No. She couldn’t be looking at him sadly. 

Sad looks were bad. Sad looks meant bad news. 

Sad looks were what the doctor had given Crystal and Jenny when they hadn’t been sure if Niko would survive her injuries from Esther. 

Sad looks were what Edwin’s face had worn when he’d been bracing himself for Charles to immediately reject his confession.

Sad looks were what the Night Nurse had given him before he’d broken her insistence that she wouldn’t open a door to Hell for him.

Sad looks were what Edwin had given him the second he’d realized that Charles was already dying but didn’t know how to tell him. 

Sad looks were what his mother had worn when she gently cleaned the scabbing wounds on his back, when she’d told him that his father was sending him off to a boarding school. 

Sad looks were bad. 

So Niko was not allowed to be giving him a sad look now. 

Because if she was sad, that meant that Edwin could be- That he could- 

Fuck, why wasn’t Edwin here? How could Charles have let this happen?

He was meant to be protecting him. Keeping Edwin safe.

He’d been out for 12 fucking hours, and for what? Because his stupid ghost body was a little sleepy? He’d handled worse. 

Edwin had been through worse. 

Who did he think he was, sleeping for 12 fucking hours when Edwin had suffered through 70 years in Hell- when he could be hurt, or lost, or suffering right fucking now?

God, what fucking use was he if he couldn’t even protect his best friend, the most important person in the world to him, the boy that he. . .

“I have to find him,” he whispered out, his voice shaking. “I need to- He- I have to go. I need to find him.”

He pushed away from the wall, stumbling to the coat rack where he could see his bag hanging. 

“Charles, just stop for a minute!” Crystal yelled, but he ignored her. 

“Charles?” 

This time, the sound of his name stopped him in his tracks. He felt as though he could cry, hearing that voice. 

He didn’t give himself time to hesitate or second guess, to wonder if his desperation was simply playing tricks on him and he was only hearing what he wanted to hear. Nor to worry about the utter pain it would cause him if he was. 

No, because this was too important. 

Charles spun on his heel, gasping in a shaky breath at the sight before him. 

Edwin. 

There he was. 

Charles’ eyes stung as he took in the sight. Edwin, standing right in front of the office mirror, surveilling the chaos around them. His coat and jack had been shed at some point so only the vest remained, the sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled up above his elbows, and his bowtie undone around his neck. He was right there. Right in the office, where he belonged. 

Charles watched, feeling almost frozen to the spot as Edwin looked to the flung open closet door and the case files that had fallen when Charles whipped it open, at the objects littering the floor, at the askew bookshelves. 

“Where were you?” Charles’ voice came out broken sounding but loud as he scanned Edwin frantically for anything amiss- an injury, a sign that he’d been in pain, even a single button out of place. His throat felt tight.

Edwin was staring at him, eyes blown wide in surprise. He gestured vaguely toward the mirror behind him, “I was simply- Charles, what are you doing?”

He had crossed the room in the blink of an eye, grabbing Edwin’s arms, turning them over and inspecting for anything he might have missed. His hand shook as he ran them over Edwin’s bare arms, up to the fabric of his rolled up shirt. 

Edwin couldn’t be hurt, he couldn’t be hurt, he couldn’t be hurt. He was standing right here, like he was supposed to be, so he had to be okay. He can not have gotten hurt because of Charles’ mistake.

Fuck, he was so stupid.

“Are you okay?” he croaked out, not letting Edwin finish with his explanation. 

“Charles, I am fine. I was simply out for a moment.”

Charles’ head snapped up, meeting Edwin’s gaze for a moment, who was watching him with a look of bewilderment and placating calmness, as one would use if trying to relax a hysterical child. 

He wasn’t hysterical. He was just. . .

He gripped Edwin’s sleeves, feeling his arms in his hands. Solid, in the way only ghosts could be to each other. 

“You were gone.” 

His voice didn’t sound like his own. It was broken, cracking, and pitched. 

“You were-” His vision went blurry as his eyes stung. “You can’t do that. You can’t. I thought you- Fuck, please, Edwin, you can’t- I need-”

A sob crawled its way out of his throat, violent, painful. 

He stumbled forward as tears began pouring from his eyes, moving until he collided with Edwin’s chest. He cried harder and harder as he wrapped his arms tight around Edwin, gripping the back of his shirt in his fists. He could feel the way Edwin stiffened in shock against him, but he paid it no mind. He needed Edwin closer. Right against him. Protected. Safe. 

He needed to believe that the boy in his arms was real. That he hadn’t fucked up. That Edwin had truly just stepped out for a moment, that he’d come back.

Edwin was right here. He was okay. 

He was okay. 

Another violent sob escaped his lips and his body felt weak under the weight of the relief that snapped through Charles’ soul. His body shook, like a constant vibration. 

He tucked his face into Edwin’s shoulder, leaning more of his weight against Edwin as his friend finally wrapped his arms around Charles in return. It felt secure, the way Edwin held Charles’ waist. 

“I thought you were. . .” he spit out between his cries, squeezing Edwin impossibly closer to him. He couldn’t make himself finish the words. He couldn’t say it outloud. 

He couldn’t hear anything else in the room over the sound of his own cries. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was Edwin. 

“You’re safe,” he whispered against the fabric of Edwin’s vest. “You’re safe. You’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe.”

The words were a mantra between his tears. He wasn’t even sure who it was he was reassuring; himself or Edwin. 

"Charles?" Edwin whispers. The older boy pulls back, and Charles almost whines, gripping Edwin's shirt tighter in his fists, eyes clenched shut. The stinging from his tears worsened.

Edwin doesn't go far, thankfully, still letting Charles hold him, still keeping an arm around his waist. Relief swells once more in his chest. He tilted forward, letting his forehead hit Edwin’s collarbone

"Charles," Edwin whispers again. 

And then there's a feather light touch on Charles' cheek. He shudders in an unnecessary breath, and the pressure grows stronger until there is a hand cupping his cheek and a thumb wiping away tears. 

"It's alright, Charles. I'm here." 

Edwin says them carefully, hesitantly, as if it isn’t the most important thing in the world for Charles to hear those words. To hear Edwin’s voice in his ear, steady and safe.

And Charles. . . Charles almost breaks down all over again at the sensation of it all. He leans into Edwin's hand on his face, eyes still shut tight as he revels in the feeling, the gentleness of it. 

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been touched like this. He couldn't see Edwin, but he could feel him, caressing his cheek so gently, like he was something to be cared for. 

Edwin shouldn’t be holding him like that. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve Edwin’s love and care. 

Especially not after he’d been down for the count for 12 hours and anything could have happened. 

Edwin’s hand moved ever so slightly to cup his jaw instead, adding pressure to tilt Charles’ head up. 

“Charles, look at me.”

Who was Charles to deny that kind of request? He opened his eyes, blinking through the river still flowing down his cheeks as he met Edwin’s gaze. 

Heaven only knew what the fuck Charles had ever done to get Edwin to look at him like that. With a gaze of pure concern, care, and affection. 

“I’m right here,” Edwin whispered, and Charles felt something in him begin crumbling. 

“I’m sorry,” he croaked out, involuntarily. “Fuck, Edwin, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I should’ve been better, I shouldn’t have- I’m so-” 

Other sob broke out from deep inside him. 

This time, it was Edwin pulling Charles in, his hand moving around to hold the back of Charles’ neck as he tucked Charles back against him, hugging him tightly. Charles shuddered against him, nudging his face into the crook of Edwin’s neck. 

Edwin had never been the best at comfort, Charles knew. He’d always been one to try to find the right words rather than provide a gentle touch, and he struggled to find the right words to say. Charles had grown to be endeared by his best friend’s way of comfort over the decades, and despite the consistent clumsiness of it, Charles would always and forever say that Edwin was the biggest comfort he’d ever had- He’d take Edwin’s stumbling words and awkward pat on the shoulder anyday over someone else.

But this- the way that Edwin had him practically cradled against him, was holding Charles like he was the one who deserved to be protected, was relentless in his immediate forgiveness for anything Charles had ever done wrong. . . 

Nothing had ever been more comforting than this. 

Charles let himself truly sink into the embrace, relaxing his muscles against Edwin and trusting that his friend would hold him up. Part of his mind was still screaming that he didn’t deserve Edwin’s kindness or forgiveness or comfort, but Edwin was smoothing a hand over the curls at the base of his neck and had an arm slung securely around his waist and his cheek was pressed against Charles’ temple, and for once in his afterlife, he allowed himself to not care about what he did or didn’t deserve. 

Edwin was all that mattered. 

He had no idea how long they stood there, right between the desk and mirror, arms locked tight around each other. Charles did know that it was long enough for his tears to finally subside, for his body to stop trembling, for his fists to ease their grip on Edwin’s shirt. It was long enough that Charles was the first to pull away- and wasn’t that just something?

Edwin Payne prolonging touch. 

As they separated, Charles reached up, wiping his face. His hands came away wet with the remainder of his tears, and as he looked at the large wet spot that had grown on Edwin’s shoulder, he fought the urge to apologize again. Silently, he backed away, moving towards the couch. Edwin followed- thank god- and together the two sat. Charles surveilled the room. 

At some point, Niko and Crystal had vacated the space. One of them had shut the closet back up, sweeping the case files into a pile to be dealt with later. 

A spike of embarrassment went up his spine at the thought that they’d witnessed his breakdown. 

None of them were ever meant to see him like that. 

Charles was the brawn of the operation- the strong one. He didn’t get to break down; it was bad enough that he’d already done that once in front of them all, back at the lighthouse, not to mention in front of Crystal in the Devlin house. How were they all supposed to trust he’d have their backs if he just kept breaking like this?

Charles clenched his fists against his pant legs, staring down at the floor.

“Are you alright?” Edwin eventually asked, quietly. Like he was hesitant to even do so. 

Slowly, Charles nodded.

He had to be alright, didn’t he?

“Do you want to. . . talk about it?”

Charles gave a weak smile, his voice rough as he said, “Not just yet, mate.”

Silence fell between them. Charles could see out of the corner of his eye how Edwin lifted his hand from his lap, as though he was going to reach out, but then set it back down. 

Charles could almost laugh at the irony. All this time he’d spent itching to keep in contact with his best friend and then second guessing himself, and now Edwin was doing the exact same. 

Part of Charles’ brain whispered that he was probably only doing it because he knew Charles- weakened, crying Charles- wanted it and that the hesitation came because Charles had far surpassed Edwin’s touch limit with his clinginess. 

But then Edwin reached out again, his hand coming to rest on Charles’ shoulder, and Charles felt the overwhelming desire to tell that part of his brain to shut the fuck up. 

With the invitation Edwin was giving him, Charles let out a sigh, leaning sideways until he came back in contact with his friend, resting his head on Edwin’s shoulder. To his credit, Edwin barely even reacted to the touch, simply shifting to allow Charles a bit more room to get comfortable. 

Charles’ limbs felt limp; not in the way they had when the exhaustion had been getting too much for him but rather just in the aftermath of his panic, from releasing how tightly he’d been holding himself since the second he’d realized Edwin was nowhere in his sights.  

“I’m sorry,” he said once again, after what felt like an eternal length of time. 

Edwin let out a hum. “I must admit. . . I’m not entirely sure for what you are apologizing.”

Charles let out a small laugh; he wasn’t entirely sure either. 

“Fucking. . . Everything, I guess.”

Edwin sighed above him, “Charles, as far as I’m aware, the only thing you need be apologizing for is not getting the rest that you clearly were in desperate need of.”

Charles just sighed. He pushed himself back off of Edwin so they were facing each other. The other boy was watching him with that frustrated look in his eyes whenever he was about to lecture Charles on something or other. 

“You literally collapsed. I didn’t even know that was possible- I thought something was seriously wrong with you at first. I can’t believe you let it get that bad. I thought you’d rested weeks ago- you told me you had! I thought. . .” Edwin let out a frustrated noise. “You know as well as I do that when our bodies require rest, we need to-”

“I couldn’t!” 

Edwin’s mouth snapped shut, a frown on his face as he took in Charles’ outburst. 

“I couldn’t, okay? Not when. . .” He huffed, pursing his lips. 

“Look, you’re the brains, and I’m the brawn. Right? That’s how it’s always been. It’s my job to protect you, yeah? And I fucking failed. I couldn’t protect you from that fucking demon dragging you right back to Hell. I couldn’t protect you from that witch, either. Every time I close my eyes, I see you being torn to shreds in Hell. Every time I sit in silence, I hear you screaming.”

“And how do you think I felt, Charles? Hm? Just standing there, watching you collapse and knowing there was nothing I could do about it!”

“That’s different.”

“How-”

“Because I don’t matter!” Charles shouted, shooting up from the couch. 

The silence that followed rang almost as loud as his yelling had. 

The stinging in his eyes was back, so he closed them tight, taking a few steps forward.

“I don’t,” he croaked out. 

“Charles,” Edwin breathed out behind him, sounding pained. 

Charles turned to look back at his friend, “I told you. You’re the most important person in the world to me. I need. . . I need you to be safe. And I couldn’t protect you in Port Townsend. I failed, Edwin, and you kept getting hurt. I can’t let it happen again. I need to- to know where you are, and to be close enough, and to touch you because. . .” 

The tears were back. Edwin was watching him silently, mouth agape and his own eyes watering. 

“I can’t lose you, Edwin. I can’t. I’m no good to anyone without you. I’m barely any good to you. So- so I can’t just. . . rest. Not when I need to make sure that you’re safe. That’s why- Why I lost it when I woke up and couldn’t find you. If something happened to you again, and it was because of me. . . ”

“Charles.” Edwin’s voice sounded as broken as his own as the older boy stood, making quick work of closing the distance between them. 

“Oh, Charles,” Edwin whispered, cupping both of Charles’ cheeks in his hands, forcing him to meet his gaze. “You ridiculous boy.”

Charles blinked back the water in his eyes. 

“I know that I have never. . . been as forward as I could be with my affections. But have I really done such a poor job to make you feel as though you don’t matter to me?”

Charles immediately protested, shaking his head. “No, no- Edwin, I know-”

“Do you?” Edwin questioned, his voice soft and his eyes sad. 

“Charles, I am so. . . devastatingly in love with you. With everything about you. You are the most important person in the world to me, too. My dearest friend. You are not simply ‘of use’ to me. You are who I trust most, my partner. This detective agency would not exist without you- and not simply because of your strength. I would be nothing without you by my side.”

Charles let out a weak sounding noise, trying for a smile. Edwin took a step even closer, and Charles let his impulses take over, resting his hands on Edwin’s hips. He was helpless to do much else when Edwin was cradling his face like that again, like he was precious. 

“And you, Charles Rowland, are not at fault for anything that happened in Port Townsend. Nothing could have stopped that demon from coming to get me, not once it realized where I was. And you did keep me safe- you did. Even though I. . . yelled at you for it on the steps, I knew, somewhere, the second that demon had me that I would see you again. Even in danger, you keep me going, Charles. You keep me safe.”

Charles cried, leaning forward until their foreheads touched. Edwin’s hands slid down, now coming to rest on Charles’ shoulders. 

“I’m so scared, Edwin,” he admitted to the space between them. “All the fucking time. I can’t stop it. We don’t even have to run anymore- We’re finally fucking safe, but I just. . .”

“Me, too,” Edwin whispered. “I was so terrified when you collapsed. I’d realized you needed proper rest, but before I could- You just passed out on the floor and. . . I felt completely fucking helpless. I screamed for Crystal- by the time she reached us, I was hysterical. I think she thought I’d gone properly insane, until she saw you on the floor.” 

Charles let out a wet laugh, lifting his head back up to look at Edwin. The older boy was smiling at him, his eyes filled with so much affection. Charles felt almost sick under the gaze of it; that look was for him. 

“I cannot lose you either, Charles Rowland,” Edwin whispered. “Perhaps. . . I think it may be high time we learn to share the burden of protecting each other.”

Charles smiled, “What- you actually gonna listen to me when I try to get you to learn self defense?”

Edwin smiled, “Perhaps. Though fencing is much more a gentleman's sport than boxing.”  

Charles outright laughed this time, throwing his head back a little. It felt so good to laugh.

“Right. Fencing, it is. Mind you, I don’t have a clue how to fence, but. We’ll figure it out, yeah? Got plenty of swords in my bag.” 

Edwin rolled his eyes good naturedly, “A sabre, Charles, not a sword.”

Charles hummed, “See? Told you I didn’t know a thing.”

Edwin laughed, shaking his head. 

Silence befell them once again, more comfortably than it had the last several times. Charles felt lighter than he had in so long, felt comfortable in his own skin. Edwin looked peaceful, too, and if that wasn’t just the cherry on top of Charles feeling like he could actually relax. 

“And Charles?” Edwin started again, his hands twitching against Charles’ shoulders. “Whatever it is you need to feel safe. . . you need only ask. Whether that be no more splitting up on cases or. . . needing more touch. It is not a hardship for me, I assure you.”

“You don’t like touch,” Charles let out, frowning. He’d honestly been surprised- pleased, grateful, and happy, but surprised- at the amount of touch Edwin had allowed him today.  

Almost immediately, Edwin grew an embarrassed look on his face. 

“That is not. . . untrue. But. . . when it is you, I find myself. . . quite amenable to it. Though, if it ever does get to be too much, I’ll tell you.”

The smile that formed on Charles’ face was entirely involuntary.

He could touch Edwin. 

Edwin had practically given him blanket permission to do so. 

If he still had a beating heart, he wasn’t entirely sure it wouldn’t have beat right out of his chest cavity. 

He squeezed Edwin’s hips gently, watching as the action had Edwin smiling back, the embarrassed look still on his face. Charles wished he could see how Edwin’s skin might have flushed if they were alive. 

“In any case,” Edwin continued, “Throughout everything we have been through, you have always come for me, protected me. I will always do the same. Always.”

At those words, at the promise that danced across Edwin’s face, at the devotion that dripped from his tone, Charles found he simply couldn’t hold back anymore. 

He surged forward, connecting his lips with Edwin’s. He felt the other ghost tense against him, a surprised noise escaping his throat, but it only took a moment before Edwin melted into it. His hand came back up to Charles’ head, wrapping around the back of his neck- pulling Charles closer to him as he kissed back, their lips moving gently against each other. 

It was, to put it quite simply, the best feeling he’d ever had. It felt like something was clicking into place in his chest, in his soul. He could properly feel Edwin against him, the way that both their lips were beginning to upturn in a smile. 

Charles pulled away with a breathless laugh, moving to wrap one of his arms around Edwin’s waist. Edwin was watching him with tears in his eyes, a look of awe stretched across his face. Looking at him now, the truth had never been so clear to Charles.

“I am. . . so in love with you, Edwin Payne,” Charles breathed out, eyes locked on Edwin’s. “I’m so fucking in love with you I didn’t even realize. It was just. . . ingrained in me, you know?”

“Charles. . . you-”

“Look, I’m not just saying this, okay?” Charles interrupted, before Edwin could go on. “I’m not saying it because I’m scared, or because you told me first and I want you to feel better, or whatever other reason that big brain of yours can think of. And I have never pretended to return your feelings, yeah? Anytime you think I was, I swear, that was all me.”

Edwin searched his face, a tear slipping down his cheek. Charles could feel the way Edwin’s hands shook slightly where they were still holding onto him. 

“I love you,” Charles stated firmly, and whatever it was that Edwin was looking for, that seemed to do the trick. This time, it was Edwin who leaned forward, kissing Charles quickly, gently, before leaning back. 

“I love you, too,” his voice cracked, but it was the most beautiful thing Charles had ever heard. 

“Brills.”

Edwin’s shocked laughter rang out, and Charles couldn’t help match the smile. 

“Did you honestly just say ‘brills’ after I kissed you and confessed my love?”

“What, did you need another speech about how we’ve got forever to figure it out?”

Edwin frowned for a moment, but his grin remained. Charles kept his eyes on Edwin’s face as the other moved to rearrange the gold chain around his neck, then smooth out the white tank. 

“I much prefer this outcome, I think,” he said after Charles’ clothing had been sorted to his liking. 

“Me, too,” Charles whispered, leaning forward to press a kiss to Edwin’s cheek. The smile he was given in return was blinding. 

“We’ll be okay, yeah?” Charles asked quietly, after a moment. “We’re going to be fine?”

As much as he wished he could say it had disappeared, that inkling of fear, of panic, was still stuck in his chest and throat. He wasn’t sure it would ever go away. Now, with the love with which Edwin was staring at him, with the love he felt back, Charles had so much more to protect. So much more he could lose if he made one wrong move. 

Edwin was quiet next to him for a moment, and that inkling grow a little bigger in the seconds that passed. Then, Edwin gave him a smile.

“I believe so. After all, it’s not just us anymore, and no one is coming to drag us to the afterlife.”

Charles smiled, and when that itch in his fingers reappeared, he didn't fight it. He reached out to Edwin, threading their fingers together. It felt like a dream to be able to do that, to not second guess himself. 

“It’ll be good to feel safe.”

Edwin hummed, “Yes. That said, if anything new decides to. . . pop up . . . We’ll sort it out. Together.”

Charles could get used to a feeling of joy spiking in his chest, rather than the fear he’d grown used to. Maybe, someday, it would become the norm for him. 

Before either could say anymore, a voice rang out from outside the office. 

“Hey, guys?” Crystal’s voice called. “I really, really hope that Charles is okay and everything, and I totally get it if you need some more time, but. . . Um, there’s a potential client out here? And it’s kinda hard to describe what we’re looking at right now, but. . . I really think we should hear her out. Oh, shit- Niko, I told you not to-”

Edwin and Charles turned to look at each other, a shared smile growing between them. 

“Ready?” Charles raised an eyebrow. Edwin simply squeezed his hand before letting go, moving with a flourish to situate himself in his chair behind the desk. 

“Aces. Let’s get to work, then,” Charles smirked, flashing Edwin a wink.

Yeah, he thought. They'd be okay.