Work Text:
1989
Edwin watched Charles a lot. He was aware he was doing it but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from him. His contagious smile, his excited jumps, the way his hands were never still. He was intoxicating. He was unlike anything, or anyone, he had seen before. And he was still here. Day after day, by his side. Asking questions, falling in step with him as they roamed the streets. Each day he expected him to be gone- to leave or to have merely been a trick of his mind—to be the last and most torturous level of hell. But he was still there, like a shadow he never knew he’d been missing all his life.
He mostly watched Charles while he slept. And he knew, oh he knew that that was problematic. There was a very large, and very loud, part of his brain that screamed at him that he was wrong, immoral, and unnatural to be so fascinated by this other boy. Boys do not watch other boys sleep. (Even when, or especially when they were both dead and didn’t need sleep. But Charles said he still liked to rest, to break up the days. And Edwin couldn’t close his eyes without the panic, the blood, and the screaming threatening to overwhelm him. So, he sat up and watched Charles. In their new office he’d found. As the younger boy curled up on the sofa and dozed for hours each night).
He tried to tell himself it was only sensible to watch him. It was part of his analysis, to deepen his understanding. Because no matter how many hours, days, weeks, or months went by he could not figure out what a boy like that would want with a boy like him. Because Charles was the sunshine, and he was the boy who’d spent his life in the shadows. No one had ever looked at Edwin the way Charles did. No one had ever made him feel like he was really seen before.
So, he watched as his chest still rose and fell (how was he the most vivid, the most alive person he’d ever met when he was no longer living?). He counted the curls that fell on his face (7) and counted how many times he wriggled from side to side through the night (124). He counted the freckles on his ankle (3) and if he had dared get close enough he would have counted his eyelashes. He wanted to know him, to step inside him and find every thought he’d ever had and turn them over in his hands. He wanted to study him, to become the ultimate expert on one Charles Rowland. Then he could write a book and draw a picture to keep forever. To keep him company on the day Charles decided to leave. On the day when he realized he’d made a mistake in spending this much time with a ghost of a boy who was, at best, not worth his time and, at worst, something unnatural that no one should be around.
And yet here they were, on another spring morning where Charles pulled himself from the sofa, stretched an unnecessary stretch, yawned an obscenely big yawn, and smiled at Edwin in that way. The way that made his throat go dry, made his tongue feel entirely too big for his mouth and made him painfully aware of what his heart would be doing if it was still keeping him alive.
“So, what’s the plan my man?” Charles grinned as he jumped to his feet and bounded the few feet to the chair where Edwin sat stiffly. He clapped him on the shoulder and sat himself on the arm of the chair like it was the easiest thing in the world. And, if Edwin knew anything, it was that he was not an easy person to be around. People had been painfully clear about that in his short life.
“Well, I thought we could continue our research at the library.” Edwin stuttered, trying to remember how to talk. Since he had escaped from hell he had been determined to make his afterlife count for something, he wanted in some way to make a difference and do good. But he was yet to work out exactly what good he could do and so resorted to what he’d been good at in life: reading and researching.
“Again?!” Charles sighed and exhaled an unnecessary breath that made his curls fly off his forehead. “We’ve spent more time in the library than I thought was possible for any being, alive or dead… And it’s Saturday!” He added desperately, turning the full effect of his puppy dog eyes in Edwin’s direction.
“Well, what did you have in mind then?” Edwin snapped as he got up quickly, to place more space between himself and Charles.
“I dunno. We could go out and explore. Try to find some other ghosts our age to hang out with?” Charles suggested- letting his body weight fall into the chair where Edwin had previously been sitting and his legs hang over the edge. Edwin thought he looked like he was posing for a painting and had the sudden fleeting impulse to paint him before shaking those thoughts forcefully from his head. What was wrong with him?
“No. I do not think that is a good idea. Not while we are trying to keep a low profile from death herself.” Edwin tried to keep his voice firm and hide the panic that rose in him every time Charles mentioned this possibility. He wanted to keep him to himself for just a little while longer. And Edwin knew as soon as Charles found other ghosts he would lose his interest in him. Edwin couldn’t blame him for that, but he just wanted to delay it. Just a tiny bit longer.
“Okay, mate.” Charles grinned and Edwin told himself it didn’t mean anything. Just one of those modern turns of phrase. Didn’t mean he actually viewed him as some kind of friend. “Well can I pick that big brain of yours about some more ghostly issues then? You know I love it when you tell me all about our new skill set.”
Edwin felt himself smile despite himself. How was he so kind? Why did he say things that made him feel so good? And how could he stop it hurting, when he knew he would one day be gone?
“Of course, you may.” Edwin replied kindly. Turning to face Charles and giving him his full attention.
“Right, so… Clothes.” Charles gestured.
“Clothes?” Edwin repeated, confusion furrowing his brows.
“Yep. Ghostly clothes, specifically.” He smiled and looked at Edwin. But seeing his confusion he elaborated. “Well, I was just thinking how does it work? Because, like, when I died” he grimaced slightly, still not used to casually using it in conversation “I was just in my tank top and then I got my jacket back but I don’t know how that happened. So now I can take that off, and my top off- well all of it off I try-” Edwin swallowed hard and tried not to think about that. Don’t think about it. “But I just wondered if these are the clothes I have to wear forever or…?”
Charles trailed off and Edwin looked at him, panic starting to rise in his throat. Charles looked amazing in his black jacket and red shirt. In the many, many times Edwin observed him he always noted how he managed to look stylish but unique at the same time. Charles could walk through these streets and slide amongst the living without standing out. Edwin looked down at his own clothes and suddenly realized how mortifying it must be for someone so stylish, so handsome, as Charles to be seen with someone like him. Yes, he might have died over 70 years ago but he didn’t have to dress like it, did he? No wonder Charles had brought it up in such a tactful way. He had to change immediately and stop causing Charles the embarrassment of being seen with him, the embarrassment of looking at him like this.
“What a good thought, Charles.” Edwin said in a falsely bright voice. “If you follow me, we can go to town and I will accompany you in collecting new clothes.” He turned on his heel and walked quickly through the door.
“Okay… brills!” Charles said in surprise as he scrambled up to follow his companion.
Edwin walked briskly down the high street, his jaw set and his fists clenched by his side. Every person who walked past him reaffirmed the thought that Charles deserved so much more. Pretty girls with bright hair and eyeliner. Boys wearing denim jackets and large gold necklaces. Sunglasses flashing in the bright morning sun, high heels clicking on the pavements. These were Charles’s contemporaries; he was just a relic from the past.
“Oi! Wait for me, mate!” Charles caught up with him and threw an arm easily over his shoulder. That was just how people were these days, Edwin scolded himself as his stomach lurched dangerously. Casual touches meant nothing, it was just another sign that he was from a long-gone era that he catalogued each one of these touches to pour over later, in solitude.
They walked in step and in silence for a few moments until Edwin saw a shop with a steady stream of young people coming in and out of it. The windows were dark, and the shop packed with row upon row of clothes. He turned and walked them both inside. He felt instantly glad that he couldn’t feel the crowds of people pushing past him. He wished desperately that he could turn down the thumping music that assaulted his ears, but he hitched on what he hoped was a natural smile.
“So, how does it work?” Charles was beaming and bouncing on the balls of his feet as he looked around.
“From what I have read, you need to find a item of clothing, hold it and then visualize yourself wearing it. And you should then change into the outfit.” Edwin nodded knowledgably.
“Okay. Great… brills!” Charles squeezed his arm once before disappearing into the depths of the shop.
Edwin let out a big sigh as he looked around. He shouldn’t be here. He couldn’t be what the other boy needed, or what he deserved. Each day that was becoming more evident. He half turned to go back towards the door when he heard Charles shout his name excitedly as he held up a t-shirt with a vulgar slogan written across the front. Edwin sighed again but felt that smile he could never quite suppress around Charles creep across his lips. He followed him into the depths of the shop. Two months together and he was already sure there was nowhere he wouldn’t follow this boy.
Fifteen long and uncomfortable minutes later Charles was ladened with t-shirts, trousers and a good variety of jackets and pulling a grudging Edwin towards the changing rooms. (Despite the fact that Edwin had pointed out, repeatedly, that Charles didn’t need to use the changing rooms and could just visualize himself in them out in the shop. Charles had pouted and said that was no fun, and therefore their decision had been made)
“Okay, you sit here and I’ll get my first look ready.” Charles grinned as he pushed Edwin into a chair and disappeared behind a curtain. Edwin ran his fingers uncertainly over the edge of the chair, trying to remember what it would feel like to touch it.
“Ta-da!” Charles announced as he flung back the curtain. He was wearing a blue suit jacket with what looked like snake print on it, a white shirt with a red tie and a fedora placed at a jaunty angle on top of his curls. He beamed at Edwin and Edwin felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach. He knew you were not supposed to call boys beautiful, but he could think of no other word. Charles looked like a model, like he wasn’t real. His mouth fell open slightly as he gaped. “Okay… Too much?” The grin slipped slightly from Charles’ face at his friend’s reaction. He pulled the curtains closed again quickly.
Over the next few minutes, Charles modelled a variety of different outfits. Edwin, who had managed to get some control back over his rebellious body and mind, made what he hoped were neutral statements. He commented on the colours and used safe words like ‘nice’ and 'suits you’. He did not mention when they matched his eyes or when they showed off his collar bones or toned arms.
“Well, that was the last one.” Charles shrugged as he came back out of the changing rooms, wearing his familiar red top and black jacket. Edwin had thought he had experienced all the emotions, seeing Charles parade in front of him like that, but he felt something overwhelming that he couldn’t quite name when he saw him back in his own clothes.
“And which ones are you going to wear out?” Edwin asked politely.
“I don’t think I will, not today.” Charles looked down at his own clothes again. “But it’s brills to know I can change when I want to.” He smiled over at Edwin, hoping he didn’t feel this had been a waste of his time.
“Right. Well, I suppose I should try now then.” Edwin said quickly. He jumped up and picked up clothes at random from the rail and charged into the dressing room with them, before he could register the look of surprise on Charles’ face.
Edwin looked into the mirror and felt the familiar pang of upset when he was greeted with only an empty space staring back at him. He took a number of needless deep breaths to try to calm himself down. He picked through the assortment of clothing in front of him. He could never try something as beautiful and brave as Charles had worn. But instead he picked up some cuffed blue jeans, a white polo shirt and some black suspenders. He looked down at himself, or at least the part of himself he could see. He looked too skinny and his legs didn’t look at the right angles. But he hoped he might look a little bit like the man Charles’ eyes had followed as they’d walked down the street.
“How are you getting on?” Edwin jumped as Charles’ voice came from very close on the other side of the curtain.
“Yes, I think I’ve got something.” Edwin put on his aren’t-I-fine smile and opened the curtain. Charles gasped and for one horrible moment Edwin thought he might laugh. He didn’t know what he would do if Charles, kind Charles- wonderful Charles, laughed at him like everybody else always had.
“Wow, Edwin. You look…” Charles trailed off. “You look amazing.” He smiled and purposefully caught Edwin’s eyes with his own. “Do you like it?”
“Well, I… I’m not…” Edwin stuttered. He wanted to tell Charles he loved this look. He wanted to walk out confidently as someone Charles would be proud to be seen with. But there was something in Charles’ face that made it impossible to lie to him.
“Because I like it. I love the way you look in that.” Charles grinned and there was a different look in his eye that Edwin would need to spend approximately two and a half hours analyzing later. “But you don’t look like you. You don’t look like my Edwin.” Edwin gasped and bit down hard on his treacherous mouth. “And I really like it when you look like my Edwin.”
“I just thought that you would want me to look different, to look more like you. Well, more like people like you. Like the people who are alive today.” Edwin said all this very quickly and stared resolutely at the floor as he did.
“Hey, hey!” Charles whispered as he stepped forward, putting his hand under the other boy’s chin and gently tilted it up so he looked at him. “I never want you to change. Not for me, not for anyone. Understand? I think you are bloody brilliant, just as you are.”
“No you don’t.” Edwin said automatically.
“Hey, don’t tell me what I think.” Charles laughed, desperate to make the other boy smile again. Anything to make him smile. “I. Think. You. Are. Bloody. Brilliant. You are the best person I’ve ever met.”
“Then you clearly haven’t met many good people.” Edwin was looking away again, staring at a fixed point in the distance and willing the tears in his eyes to go away. “You just think that because I am he first ghost you have met but soon you’ll see me for what I am.”
“Edwin,” Charles said seriously as he stepped forward and closed both Edwin’s shaking hands in his own. “I don’t know what has happened to you before. With the bullies, with hell, with any of it. But I can absolutely promise that what you’ve been told before is wrong. And if you don’t believe me then I’m going to spend the rest of our afterlives convincing you. OK?”
“I wish I could believe you.” Edwin whispered, one solitary tear making its way down his face.
“You don’t have to believe me right now. But I’m going to prove it to you. You’re my best friend and I’m going to make you see how amazing you are, whether you like it or not. You keep forgetting that you’re stuck with me now, Edwin Payne.” Edwin let out a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob.
“I’ve never had a best friend before.” Edwin admitted, a little shyly. Best friend. That must be what he was feeling for Charles. That must be why he wanted to know every bit of him, why he dreaded the loss of him. He would do anything for this boy. His best friend.
“Me neither, not really.” Charles shrugged. “But that’s because I’d never met you before.” He grinned and nudged him with his shoulder. “Now are you going to get changed or what?”
Edwin looked down at his clothes and nodded, quickly visualizing his old clothes and changing back into them.
“There he is.” Charles smiled that smile and Edwin couldn’t help but beam back. “I did think of one thing we could do to update your outfit though”. He reached down into his pocket and pulled out a small black and white badge. He leaned in and gently pulled back the lapel of Edwin’s jacket, placing the pin badge on the inside where it would be visible only to Edwin. “What do you think?” He asked as he held the jacket open for Edwin to see.
“Rude boy?!” Edwin said in surprise as he read the writing on the badge.
“Yep. Now we match” Charles grinned and gestured to the patch sown on his own clothing. As he released Edwin’s jacket the badge fell against his shirt, resting exactly over his would-be-fluttering heart.