Work Text:
The Case of the Endless Supernatural Candy turns sour the minute Charles hears the words endless, supernatural, and candy.
Edwin makes a grab for Charles' arm a millisecond too late. He's already elbows deep into the candy bin, scooping piles of sweets into any article of clothing that will hold some, including his pants.
The shame of it all, Edwin thinks, dragging him away by his coat. Charles's mouth is already full to near bursting and Edwin has never wanted more to thwap him in the back of the head than he does at this moment.
Something he fully elaborates on when they return to the office. "You had no idea if it was safe to eat. You had no concern for the precariousness of the situation while you acted like a wild horse at a trough." Edwin's indignation is just warming up. "And now you look like a small child who has eaten his peppermint sticks and everyone else's."
This part is true. Charles is an unhealthy shade of green, both knees jittering and popping, all huge eyes and a shivering smile. Yet he seems oddly exhausted as well, as if the magical sugar energy is wearing him out.
Either way, he looks terrible and that makes Edwin even more annoyed. "What were you thinking?"
"Sorry, mate." Charles' voice is an octave higher as if he's been sucking on helium.
It's infuriating, and Edwin can't help himself. "What if you had eaten that candy and you turned into something else?" He paused for dramatic effect. "As in snap!"
At that very second, when his fingers snap, the office fills with a brilliant white flash. Bright as the sun before receding, it narrows down to a small, pulsing ball of light.
Floating right where Charles once stood.
Edwin's jaw drops in abject horror. A frantic search for Charles ensues throughout the tiny office, even though Edwin knows in his heart that Charles has been changed into a simple orb of light.
It is a known phenomenon, but Edwin has no idea what causes it. He's read about it somewhere and he's already cursing himself for not having memorized the source. His hands clench into his hair, yanking at it hard enough to hurt as Charles floats toward him.
The orb bumps into his fingers, gently, as if urging Edwin to stop pulling at his hair.
It's ridiculously sweet and Edwin lets go, hands opening up as Charles drops gracefully into his open palms. It's not warmth exactly, what Edwin feels when he holds the orb, it's the comfort of watching a spring rain beneath a porch, a fireplace during a snowstorm, or sweethearts curled into something endless.
Heat prickles up Edwin's cheeks. Holding Charles likes this feels too intimate for comfort, he needs to put him down and assess the situation properly so plans can be formed.
Unfortunately, putting Charles down is easier said than done. He stubbornly floats back into Edwin's hands every time he tries to place him on the desk, going as far as to dash beneath his coat when Edwin makes two fists.
"Will you get out of there?" Edwin says into the lining of his sleeve where Charles has lodged himself in the crook of Edwin's elbow. "Charles, I have to study this."
Charles nestles in even closer. It's a standoff and Edwin knows how it will end. "All right, if I hold you will you come out?"
It ends with Charles getting exactly what he wants, Edwin thinks with a silent sigh. Charles settles into Edwin's palms, pulsing softly, and if Edwin puts his ear close enough he can hear a purring hum emanating from the light.
Part of him desperately wishes he could begin to write everything down but there's another part of him that wants to melt into the comfort of Charles's light, that distinct feeling of home Edwin has never really known until now.
Eventually, the pulsing dims. To Edwin, the orb feels asleep as Charles' restless energy finally winds down for the time being. It's here Edwin makes the courageous decision to slip Charles onto one of the couch cushions before carrying him like a pasha back to the desk, tiptoeing and praying he doesn't wake up.
With the movements of a mouse, Edwin carefully opens his notebook and begins to record the events of the day. Every now and then Charles burns a little brighter, so Edwin curls his fingers over him until he settles.
This pleasant state of affairs lasts until early morning when Edwin suddenly feels the full weight of Charles sitting on his hand. He's smiling and swinging his legs, without a care in the world especially regarding Edwin's crushed knuckles.
"That was aces!" he exclaims.
"Wonderful. Would you mind getting your aces off my hand?" Edwin grinds out, relieved when Charles hops off the desk.
To Edwin's vast relief he looks remarkably better, well rested and not utterly intoxicated by magical candy.
He sounds better as well. More like Charles and less like a punch-drunk Mickey Mouse. "Did you do that with your magic?" he asks excitedly.
Edwin is appalled. "Charles, I would never turn you into another form by magic without your permission. In fact, I wouldn't do it even with your permission. Why would you ever think that?"
Charles shrugs, ducking his head. "It was nice and it made me better. So I figured you had something to do with it."
It's strange how full a heart can feel, Edwin thinks, Charles's words washing over him warmly. "No, it wasn't my doing." Although now he wishes it had been.
Gathering a stack of paper, Edwin holds up his notes. "Now about the set of instructions I've written to you regarding this event. You'll need to keep these in case the same thing happens to me at some point in the future."
The papers are exchanged and stuffed haphazardly into Charles' pocket, giving Edwin a distinct sense of misgiving.
You'll need to keep these in case the same thing happens to me at some point in the future.
Hopefully Charles takes him seriously.
+++
It takes one hundred and twelve pages of ancient Aramaic, fourteen rune castings, twenty eight mirror hops and an entire band of gargoyles heading straight toward them to make Edwin Payne forget his own name.
"I, Edmund Payne," he croaks, hand wavering over his head in the approximation of a hex.
With a nudge Charles leans in. "Edwin, mate. Your name's Edwin," he whispers helpfully.
It's at this point Edwin turns, looks Charles straight in the eye and pops into a brilliant glowing orb.
Just as the gargoyles are almost upon them.
Charles doesn't panic exactly, he knows that Edwin has given him some kind of instructions on what to do regarding this and he was just about to read it.
Honestly.
Still, grabbing the orb and stuffing it into his side pocket seems to be as good an option as any as Charles hurtles toward the gargoyles, making a path for himself through them with his cricket bat. He's almost to the end, turning around to give the ugly bastards a cheeky grin when he sees Edwin floating above the enraptured monsters.
They start jumping to try and catch him and that's when Charles has to smack his way back, cricket bat doing overtime. One huge jump and he gets a hold of Edwin, with a howl of triumph.
A howl of triumph that slowly fades away as he slips and rolls down a steep side hill. He curses with every bounce, trying to keep Edwin up and above the fray. Charles succeeds, more or less, the light inside the orb only slamming about a little bit.
It's at the bottom of the hill that Charles finally gains his bearings, and decides that Edwin would be safer tucked in his inside pocket. He feels warm in there, as if the rays of Edwin's light are seeping into Charles's chest, making his soul shine.
Charles closes his eyes and wraps his coat closer to enjoy the feeling for a few minutes before grabbing his backpack to start the long journey home.
+++
Unfortunately, Charles's lack of skill in mirror travel catches up with him. He's on his fifth jump and feeling kind of woozy. The tenth one isn't much better, and the eleventh one lands him and Edwin on a mirror-lined roller coaster somewhere in the American Midwest.
He can't even figure out how that happened so he rides it a few times to think things through before finding another mirror and finally getting them back to the office.
Once there he slips out of his coat and lays it over the couch. Finds the scrunched up instructions and reads through them, written out in Edwin's impeccable handwriting.
I discovered that holding you close, such as in my hands seemed to keep you the most content. Once I put you upon another surface, a soothing touch every now and then was for the best, as you made a distinct purring noise each time I did so. I also tried to apply various soft-textured blankets for warmth but I'm unsure if it had any effect.
Please note that there is no need to do any of the above when it comes to myself. Put me in a secure, open area and that should be fine. Don't bother yourself too much about it.
Charles looks from the paper to his jacket back to the paper again, his face crinkling into a grimace. Retrieving Edwin from his pocket, he slowly and awkwardly levers himself onto the couch keeping Edwin tucked close to his chest, like a child trying not to drop an egg.
Once settled, he peeks under his hands, wincing at Edwin's jittery glow. "Sorry, mate. This was a rough one. But we're good now, yeah?"
Charles keeps his hands cupped over Edwin, enjoying how he can see Edwin's soul light shift and change through his fingers. It's a beautiful blue color, like a hen's egg or a spring sky. The office grows dark except for Edwin's light, and Charles allows it to lull him into imagining he is floating in a warm sky of blue.
Charles is so mesmerized it's a shock when Edwin materializes on top of him, clutching his body like a raft. Edwin's hair is askew, his bow tie undone but he looks somewhat relaxed nonetheless.
Somewhat. "Charles, did you by chance place me in a butter churn at any point in my ... orb form?"
It's an honest question, so Charles answers honestly. "No, mate."
Edwin sighs and gingerly drops into his desk chair as if he doesn't quite trust its corporal nature, not yet. "Well, it's good to be back. Thank you for taking care of me, Charles. I hope it wasn't an inconvenience."
"Not even a tiny bit." Charles sits on the desk and faces him, reaching out to smooth a stray lock of Edwin's hair back into place.
Edwin blushes and Charles thinks there's nothing cuter than an old-fashioned lad. Together they close the giant book of Aramaic and pull forth the case file to mark it closed, initials signed side by side.