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After the whole Esther Finch fiasco, everyone moved back to London. Everything seemed great so far. Life seemed to settle into something resembling normalcy - or as normal as it could get for them. Crystal sorted things out with her parents and the people from her past, finding some semblance of peace. Jenny bought and opened a butcher shop not far from the boys' office, her shop quickly became a local favourite. Niko... well, Niko was just Niko.
Crystal's parents in a rare moment of so-called good parenting, gifted her a house, and rather than living alone, she decided to share it with Jenny and Niko. The house was great but the three of them wanted to make it a home. So when they had the time, they did, with help of course.
Charles spent the entire day helping the girls furnish the house to their liking. By the time the last anime poster was glued and the final picture was hung, the girls decided a celebration was in order, and Charles found himself dragged along for the ride.
Now, as Charles opened the door to the office and stepped inside, he was utterly spent. The familiar, comforting clutter of space greeted him, but tonight it felt different. Closing the door behind him with a weary sigh, he stumbled over to the old, worn-out couch and flopped down face-first, letting out a groan of exhaustion.
'If ghosts needed sleep,' He thought, 'I'd be proper knackered by now.'
After a minute or so, he was pulled back from the edge of whatever passed for rest in the ghost world, as he sensed that something was not right. Slowly, Charles propped himself up onto his palms, a frown creasing his brow.
Two thoughts hit him at once: why was the office so dark, and more importantly, where was Edwin?
Charles pushed himself up off the couch, an unsettling feeling growing within him. He then glanced around, his eyes adjusting to the dim light that filtered in through the new blinds they bought.
"Edwin?" Charles called out, half expecting his friend to appear out of nowhere with some snarky remark about his late return. But the silence that answered him only made the knot in his stomach tighten.
He moved through the room until he spotted the closet door. The door was slightly ajar, a sliver of darkness within the already shadowed room. As impossible as it sounds, Charles's heart skipped a beat as what can only be named fear washed over him.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Charles approached the closet and slowly pushed the door open. The faint creak of the hinges was deafening in the silence.
There, huddled in the farthest corner, was Edwin.
Charles's breath caught in his chest as he took in the sight. Edwin, usually so composed, so sharp-tongued, and sarcastic, was curled up on the floor, his knees drawn to his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around them. His whole body trembled, and soft whimpers escaped his lips, barely audible but enough to break Charles's heart if it was still beating.
"Edwin..." Charles whispered, crouching down beside him. The sight reminded him of that day in Hell - the room with the doll demon, Edwin had looked so small, so terrified.
For a moment, Charles wasn't sure what to do. He reached out, hesitating just above Edwin's shoulder, afraid that touching him might somehow make things worse. But he couldn't just leave him like this.
Carefully, Charles placed a hand on Edwin's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "It's alright, mate. I'm here. You're safe."
Charles's hand tightened slightly on Edwin's shoulder, feeling the tremors that ran through his friend's body. the sight of Edwin like this - so vulnerable, so shattered - brought a sharp pain to his chest. He'd seen Edwin face down horrors that would break anyone else, seen him use his wit and sarcasm as armor against the darkness they encountered. But now, all of that had crumbled away, leaving only raw fear and pain in its place.
"Edwin... mate, look at me," Charles urged softly, his voice trembling despite his efforts to keep it steady. But Edwin's eyes were squeezed shut, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps as if he were trapped in a nightmare he couldn't escape.
"Come on, Ed," Charles coaxed, trying to keep the rising panic out of his own voice. He knew he had to stay calm, had to be the anchor Edwin needed right now, but it was hard. Seeing his best mate like this was harder than anything they'd faced together before. "It's just me. You're safe. It's over, alright? It's over."
But Edwin wasn't hearing him. He was too far gone, lost in the trauma that had been festering inside him since Hell, since Esther Finch, since... everything. Charles could feel a faint pounding in his chest where his heart used to be, fear clawing at him as Edwin continued to tremble under his touch, his whimpers growing louder, more desperate.
"Edwin, please!" Charles's voice cracked as Edwin's breathing grew more erratic, teetering on the edge of hyperventilation. Panic surged through Charles, the sight of Edwin so out of control, so utterly broken, cutting through him like a knife. Desperation clawed at him - he had to do something, anything, to bring Edwin back.
In the heat of the moment, as Edwin's gasps grew sharper and more frantic, a memory flashed through Charles's mind: "Charles, I'm in love with you."
It was Edwin's confession on the stairs of Hell. They'd been facing Hell, both literally and metaphorically. Since then with everything that was going on, there hadn't been time to unpack the weight of Edwin's words. But now, in the midst of Edwin's panic, that memory came rushing back with a force and startling clarity that left Charles breathless, pushing him into action.
Without thinking, he cupped Edwin's face in his hands, afraid. Edwin's panic was spiralling out of control, his breath coming in frantic, shallow gasps as if he was drowning in his own fear. Desperation gripped Charles even more. Decades of being together had forged an instinct within him- this primal instinct driving him to do whatever it took to bring Edwin back and so he did.
He leaned in swiftly, crashing his lips against Edwin's in a kiss that was as fierce as it was urgent.
The kiss wasn't by all means gentle, but firm - it was a collision of emotions: fear, desperation, pain, and something else, something deeper. Charles's lips moved against Edwin's with a force that spoke of his own terror, his own need to anchor Edwin to the present; to bring him back to reality. It was as though Charles was pouring every ounce of his soul into that kiss, trying to drown out the darkness threatening to consume Edwin. The kiss was intense, their mouths molding together into something that was both scorching and desperate, a lifeline in the midst of the chaos swirling within Edwin's mind.
At first, Edwin's body stiffened, his mind reeling from the shock of the sudden, fervent contact. But as Charles's lips pressed harder, more forcefully, something within Edwin began to crack. The wall of panic that had been suffocating him started to crumble, piece by piece, under the sheer heat of the kiss. The frantic pounding of his would-be heart, slowed in response to the firm, demanding pressure of Charles's mouth. It was as if the kiss was dragging him back from the edge, pulling him out of the dark abyss that had been threatening to swallow him whole.
Slowly, the tension in Edwin's body began to ease. His breaths, still ragged, started to slow, becoming deeper and more even. Charles's lips were relentless, coaxing, demanding Edwin's surrender to the present moment, to the intense connection they shared. The kiss grew hotter, more intense, as Edwin's initial resistance melted away, replaced by a rising need that matched Charles's own desperation. Their tongues clashed, an explosively, hot and heavy, hungry battle - each seeking solace in the other's mouth.
When Charles finally pulled back, he did so reluctantly, as if afraid that breaking the connection might send Edwin spiraling again. His breath heavy and uneven, his lips tingling and hot. His eyes searched Edwin's for any sign that he had succeded in calming him. What he saw made his null heart ache - Edwin's eyes were wide, brimming with tears, confusion, and vulnerability. His breathing had steadied, but the look in his eyes was one of utter disorientation as if he were trying to make sense of everything, of what he was feeling. His eyes searched Charles's for answers.
"Charles?" Edwin's voice was a broken whisper, barely audible, laced with a mix of fear, confusion, longing, and something else - something... deeper, something that neither of them were ready to confront just yet, especially in their current state.
Charles swallowed hard, his would-be heart racing from both the kiss and the relief of seeing Edwin start to come back to himself. His hand remained on Edwin's cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against his skin in a soothing gesture, as he did in hell. He could feel the tremors still running through Edwin's body, but they were subsiding, slowly giving way to a heavy, bone-deep exhaustion. "You're safe, Edwin," Charles whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "It's alright. You're here with me. Just breathe, okay?"
Edwin blinked, his lips parting slightly as he struggled to find his voice, to find his footing in the wake of what had just transpired. His breath hitched, but he did as Charles said, even if he found it ironic. He was a ghost. Still, he focused on the weird steady rise and fall of his chest and the surprising warmth of Charles's hand against his face.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Charles could see the exhaustion etched into Edwin's face, the weight of everything he had been carrying alone for so long.
Then, finally, Edwin lifted his head, his eyes red-rimmed and haunted. "I thought I was fine," he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper. "I really thought I was..."
Charles gave him a small, sad smile, his heart aching with the realization of just how deeply Edwin had been hurting, how much he'd been hiding behind that sassy exterior. "You don't have to be fine all the time, Eds. It's okay to not be okay."
Edwin's lip quivered, and for a moment, it looked like he might break down again. But instead of collapsing, his expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he regarded his friend. There was a moment of silence, thick with unspoken thoughts, before Edwin finally spoke, his voice laced with a mixture of hurt and frustration.
"You talk about it being okay to not be fine," Edwin began, his tone sharper now, "but you've never exactly been forthcoming with your own skeletons, have you, Charles?"
Charles blinked, taken aback by the sudden change in Edwin's demeanour. "What do you mean?" he asked cautiously, though he had a sinking feeling he already knew.
Edwin's gaze hardened, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "I had to find out from Crystal - of all people - what you went through when you were alive. We have been friends for decades, Charles, and you never once told me. You let me think everything was alright with you when it was not. You expect me to open up about what I'm going through, but you never did the same."
Charles felt a pang of guilt, the weight of Edwin's words settling heavily on his shoulders. "It wasn't like that, Mate. I didn't want to burden you with my past."
"And you think I want to burden you with mine?" Edwin snapped, his voice rising. "You are my best friend, Charles. I have trusted you with everything, but you kept that part of yourself locked away. Charles, have you the slightest inkling of how... how utterly humiliated I was to learn of it from another? And the sting of envy I felt, knowing that Crystal was privy to such knowledge whilst I remained in the dark?"
The room fell into a tense silence, the air thick with unresolved emotions. Charles didn't know what to say, his mind racing as he tried to process Edwin's words. He had never realized how much his silence had hurt Edwin, had never thought that keeping his own pain hidden would make Edwin feel excluded or betrayed.
"Edwin," Charles started, his voice soft and filled with regret, "I'm sorry. I never meant to shut you out. I just... I didn't know how to talk about it. But you're right mate, I was being a proper hypocrite. Here I am, preaching that it's okay to not be okay when I struggle to believe it myself. I know it's pretty two-faced of me, and I'm really sorry 'bout that. It ain't fair to you."
Edwin looked away, his expression a mix of sadness and lingering anger. "We've been through hell together, literally. I thought we didn't have secrets between us."
Charles swallowed hard, the gravity of Edwin's words hitting him fully. "No more secrets," he promised as he placed his hands on Edwin's shoulder. "From now on, we talk. About everything."
Edwin's shoulders slumped slightly as the tension began to ease. "I just... I just don't want to lose you, Charles. You are all that I have left in this world."
"And you won't," Charles assured him, his grip on Edwin's shoulder tightening in a gesture of solidarity. "We'll get through this together, like we always do."
For a moment, they sat there in the dim light, the weight of their shared pain hanging between them. But there was also a sense of understanding, of connection, that hadn't been there before - a bond forged not just by their adventures and shared experiences, but by the acknowledgement of their vulnerabilities.