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Charles Rowland is unlike anyone Edwin has ever met.
Edwin doesn’t initially intend to befriend him, doesn’t even expect himself to be visible to the living boy in the attic. Still, he remembers the cruel hands and mocking laughter of his own tormentors in life, and he doesn’t want to leave the boy curled up in the dark cold attic of an old gymnasium all by himself.
The boy looks up as Edwin approaches, asks who’s there, makes eye contact with Edwin instead of looking through him like most living humans do. Edwin’s nonexistent heart clenches in grief (he’s still not certain of all the rules of being a ghost, but he finds it rather cruel that his mind still remembers how his body experienced grief and inflicts that sensation upon him even now). He realizes that this is not a living boy. This is a dying boy.
He’s still alive, clearly, and even though he looks pale and weak and is curled up on himself, shuddering with cold, he has a vitality to him. The light of the lantern shines in his eyes, catches on the single dangling earring that he wears, makes it seem to sparkle. He’s beautiful, and the tragedy of his death is horrible. Edwin does not want him to be alone, or afraid. He remembers what it’s like to die alone and afraid and in pain, and this boy does not deserve that.
The boy’s name is Charles.
Charles can’t sit up properly without bracing himself, and it seems to take a herculean effort to haul himself from the floor to the chair so that he can sit across from Edwin and talk to him as if he’s the only person that matters. He smiles at Edwin, even as he shakes with cold and pain and fear, and Edwin smiles back because how could he not?
He doesn’t believe that Edwin is dead, at first. He demands a demonstration, and cheers and laughs as Edwin walks through the walls and sticks his hands through shelves. It's a pleasant sound, and Edwin thinks it would be a happy sound given better circumstances. But Charles is growing weaker, no longer able to hold himself up, leaning against the shelves. Edwin rearranges the ratty old blankets and bedding into an acceptable place to rest and then guides the freezing boy over so that he can lie down.
Charles stops shivering, and Edwin wants to believe that it’s because he’s getting warmer, but his skin is paler than ever and Edwin knows that it’s because he is in the late stages of hypothermia.
Edwin has had nothing but time to read since he escaped from Hell, and learning about modern medical advancements had been fascinating. So he knows what it means when Charles’ shuddering gives way to a terrible stillness. He wishes he was alive so that he had body heat to share with Charles, but ghosts are cold things, so all Edwin’s touch would do is hurt the boy more. He could try to run for help, but no one else can see him, and he’s more likely to draw the attention of those terrible boys than anyone actually useful. He does not want the boys to return, does not want Charles to cower with fear as he dies.
So instead, Edwin reads him a story. A detective story from a series that began coming out before his death. This edition is much later, from the 1920’s, so it's not one he’s read before. The pages are yellowed with age. He’s not sure how long it will take for him to get used to things that are new to him being so very old to the rest of the world. Charles is quiet in his bed, seemingly content to listen to Edwin’s voice. It’s almost nice.
Charles stands up. His body does not.
He doesn’t seem to realize what has happened at first, looking out at the sunlight streaming in through the window, then he turns and his gaze falls upon his own corpse.
The body that used to be Charles looks peaceful. Edwin is glad of that. He’s glad that he was able to bring a small amount of comfort to this beautiful boy who died just like Edwin, at the hands of boys who went too far.
Death will be coming soon. Edwin turns to go
Charles stops him, tells him he won’t be going with Death, that he’d rather stay here, with Edwin.
Edwin tries to deter him, tells him he’s not good with other people, throws in a mention of his trip to Hell for good measure. Charles refuses to see reason, says he’s “aces” with other people, that he’s “chuffed” that Edwin got out of hell. Chuffed. Edwin wonders if traumatic brain injuries can follow ghosts into their afterlife, or if Charles is simply insane.
Charles stays. He follows Edwin as he vacates the gymnasium attic, running from the blue light. And then he simply doesn’t leave Edwin's side.
Edwin hadn’t been kidding when he said he wasn’t good with people. He had never been particularly well-liked in life (as evidenced by his death at the hands of his classmates), and is was well aware that 73 years in Hell has done little to improve his sociability. But Charles doesn’t seem to mind Edwin’s strange mannerisms or his propensity for awkward silences. He’s more than capable of amusing himself with anything and everything. At one point, Edwin watches Charles fiddle with a paperclip for three hours without seeming to become bored, twisting it into funny little shapes as Edwin studies his magical texts. He fills Edwin’s silences with mindless chatter, smiles at Edwin’s raised eyebrows and long-suffering sighs, and simply takes up exuberant space in Edwin’s neat world.
Edwin finds that he does not mind, finds himself allowing Charles to know him in a way he’s not sure if he was ever known in life. He’s never had a best friend before, just classmates whose intentions he had never fully trusted. Charles Rowland has no bad intentions, Edwin knows that in his heart. Knows it. Charles is the best kind of person, and he deserves a friend worthy of him.
Edwin is not sure if he can be that friend, he's certain he will make a mess of this sooner rather than later, but Charles seems perfectly happy in his current existence, and has informed Edwin in no uncertain terms that he will not be going to any sort of afterlife without Edwin.
"Someone's got to look out for you," Charles says, and Edwin does not know how to respond. Historically, no one has looked out for him. Not his parents, or his instructors, or his classmates. Just this one stubborn boy who he would never have met if their stories hadn't both been so tragic.
He decides that if Charles will not leave and insists on looking after Edwin, then Edwin will simply have to look after Charles as well.
Someone's got to, after all.