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It seemed wrong to Charles that Edwin had so few things from his lifetime to enjoy. At least when Charles died he could still hear the same music and watch the same type of movies. Charles knew he would slowly have to watch as everything changed around him, but it didn’t feel much different than it would have growing up, if he were honest.
Or at least that’s what he tried to tell himself. He was sure he would feel very different when that day actually came.
Edwin did have that experience. He’d simply been on Earth one day, and then stuck in Hell for seventy years. During that time everything had changed. The slang, the clothes, entertainment. It was like waking up from a coma only to discover that everything and everyone you knew was gone.
Well, not everything, Charles thought as he glared up at St. Hilarions. That was one thing that stayed the same.
He would rather cut his arm off than go inside there, but it’s not like he had much of a choice. It was almost Christmas, Edwin’s favorite time of the year, and Charles knew exactly what he wanted to get him.
Last year they didn't even have a place to call their own for Christmas. Edwin had tried to hide how much it bothered him, that he didn’t miss Christmas Trees and dinners and gift exchanges. That it didn’t bother him he would never see his family again.
Of course, Charles had been able to tell. Edwin was more of an open book than the other boy liked to believe. And at least Charles had learned how to check in on his family via the mirrors, so it’s not like he was completely in the dark about how they were doing. Not that he would ever tell Edwin that. The idea of Edwin one day catching a glimpse of the kind of man his dad was? Of seeing what he was capable of?
(The idea that he might think Charles was capable of the same things?)
Well, that was too much to think about.
Besides, they actually had a place to call their own now! It had taken some time to find the perfect abandoned building for their agency, but they’d eventually managed it. He’d wanted to surprise Edwin with a tree as well, but he hadn’t figured out how to do that just yet.
Christmastime had never been an exceptionally happy one for Charles. Once he’d been old enough to go away for school, he’d rarely ever gone home for the holidays unless he was forced or he felt like his mum needed him. And before that his dad had always made such a big deal about how much things cost: decorations, presents, meals, everything that made the holidays the holidays, so he’d always figured it was overrated anyways.
But he’d seen how Edwin’s eyes had physically lit up at all of the lights. He’d seen how the other boy had seemed drawn to the choirs that sang at holiday markets, the sad look he got on his face when he remembered he could no longer smell the roasted nuts or chocolates shops stocked.
Edwin would kill him if he knew that he’d gone back to the school alone. He could only hope that his gift would be good enough to appease him.
He phased through the doors and walked up the stairs to the attic. He tried not to think of it as the place he died, those thoughts wouldn’t be helpful after all, but more the place where he met Edwin. If he could think of it like that, he knew he’d be just fine.
Familiar crates littered the attic. It didn’t look like anyone had been up since they’d recovered Charles’s body. Which they had done. Eventually. Not that anyone really knew what happened to him, what with the school ruling it an accident and everything, but still. At least he wouldn’t have to spend forever up here.
But there was something up here, he knew. After he and Edwin had escaped Death the night he’d died, he’d finally screwed up the courage to ask him exactly why he’d been up in the attic. Edwin had sort of sidestepped the issue at first, claiming that he had followed Charles up there, but it was obvious to Charles that he’d been inside the attic before. He’d somehow seemed to know exactly where to go to find old books and more mattresses for Charles to lay on, not to mention the lantern he’d used.
So eventually Edwin had relented. It had taken time, but he’d admitted that he was there to look for his own belongings that had been abandoned at the school after he’d died. He knew that his family had never sent for them, and that it had been a long shot, but seeing as how the school had a tendency to hoard things, it seemed entirely possible that they still had some of them hanging around.
Those old magazines had been proof enough. Edwin had said that he’d read those shortly before he’d died, which meant the likelihood of his stuff being in the attic had gone up. For obvious reasons, he hadn’t been able to complete his search that night, and to Charles’s knowledge, had never been back to do so.
Charles shifted through the boxes, thankful that the rest of the school was out for the holidays. He could only imagine the rumors he would have been starting about ghosts in the attic with all the noise he was making.
Finally, after what felt like a million boxes, he found the one he was looking for. There was a single box labeled Payne in a handwriting not so different from Edwin’s. Did everyone write the same back then?
Carefully, as if he were holding something precious, he lifted the box from the corner it was stashed away in and brought it to the table. It was small, so small it seemed strange that the school had deemed it worthy of keeping. He wondered what they’d done with the rest of Edwin’s stuff. Had other boys taken bits and pieces or had they simply chucked it all out?
He brushed the lid off and let the dust fall where it may. He took a deep breath and rested his hands on the box for a moment, almost praying that he would find what he was looking for inside. He didn’t know what he would do if he didn’t. He’d have to start all over and this whole trip would have been a waste.
Slowly, he let out his breath and opened his eyes. The lid came off so easily, hardly even making a sound as he looked inside.
There were a couple of items of clothing inside– something Charles recognized as pieces of the uniform Edwin wore daily, a couple of books he was sure Edwin would be delighted to find, and there, on top of it all, was exactly the thing he had been looking for.
“Finally,” Charles said and lifted it with care. This was going to be perfect.
XXX
Charles could hardly contain himself. He’d gone back and forth between waiting for actual Christmas to give Edwin his present, but he’d decided that it couldn’t wait. This was the type of thing that needed to be given now.
He paced back and forth, surely wearing a hole in their office floor. His hands fumbled with the gift, almost tearing the wrapping paper he had spent a good part of the evening trying to perfect. How had his mum always made it look so easy?
(No, that was not something he was going to think about. Because this wasn’t about him. Or what he lost. This was about him doing something nice for Edwin, and he wouldn’t allow himself to get pulled down into a thought spiral that wouldn’t help and-)
“Charles?” Edwin asked, his voice hesitant. “Is something wrong?”
Charles whirled around, nearly throwing the gift. Edwin’s eyes narrowed in concern as he stepped the rest of the way into the office. With more care than Charles thought anyone could give a coat, Edwin hung it up beside the door and made his way over.
“Brills,” Charles said, trying to make his voice sound even happier. Because he was happy. It would be stupid for him to not be happy. He had the perfect gift for Edwin!
No, he wasn’t nervous at all.
Edwin gave him a disbelieving look. “Charles,” he said, like that was all he needed to say.
And it was. Charles cracked like an egg, unable to hold back any longer.
“I got you something,” he said and thrust out the gift. There was no going back now.
Edwin’s eyes widened as he took in the wrapped present in front of him. “Oh, well, I um,,” he said. “Christmas is still two weeks away and-”
“I know, I know,” Charles said. “But I really can’t wait.”
He slid the gift into Edwin’s hands with a smile. It was hard not to, even in spite of his own nervousness.
Slowly, and with far more care and reverence than Charles thought his terrible wrapping job deserved, Edwin removed the shiny blue paper. Charles wondered if he had always been the type to carefully open gifts and save the paper, or if he had ever been the kid to rip into gifts without a care in the world.
Somehow he didn’t think so.
The edge of his gift poked through and Edwin froze. Charles could see that he had instantly recognized it, knew it from that corner alone, which told Charles that he must have made the right choice.
“Charles,” Edwin said, his name both a warning and a concern.
Charles said nothing, only waited with bated breath as Edwin fully revealed the gift.
It wasn’t much to look at, if Charles was honest. Just a small, black notebook with the Payne family crest embedded into it. Some of the golden coloring had faded from the crest a bit over time, leaving it hard to tell what it might have been in some places, and the edges of it were a little bit more worn than he was sure Edwin would like his notebooks to be.
And yet, Edwin was looking at it like it was the best thing he had ever seen. He’d never been one to wear his emotions plainly on his face (aside from annoyance, that was), but Charles could see the way tears gathered in the corners of his eyes, the way his fingers flexed on the soft leather to make sure he didn’t drop it.
“How did you even find this?” Edwin asked softly.
“You said that you thought the school kept your stuff,” Charles said. “Turns out they did. Some of it, at least.” He’d have to show Edwin the rest later. He had a feeling it wouldn’t matter as much as the notebook he was holding now.
Edwin’s fingers ran over the cover of the book, practically petting it. They traced the edges of the crest, something Charles was sure he must have done a thousand times before when he was alive.
He wished that Edwin could feel the notebook. It seemed cruel to hold something so personal and not be able to actually feel it.
“When did you go back to the school?” Edwin asked. And Charles tried not to notice the hurt in his voice, the way he seemed to tuck his notebook close to himself and stare at Charles like he was afraid both of them might somehow disappear on him.
It was impossible.
“Just earlier today,” Charles said. “Really, it wasn’t a big deal. Just popped in, popped out. Even beat you back here, didn’t I?”
“Still,” Edwin said, his brows creased. “You should never have had to go back there by yourself.”
Yes, Charles could see that. And yet it’s not like he could have asked Edwin to go back with him. In what possible world was it better that both of them went back to the place that traumatized and killed them, rather than just him? It was hardly a contest in Charles’s mind.
“Had to, right? Not much of a surprise if you knew what I was doing,” he said.
And it had clearly been a surprise. Edwin could never have faked the look on his face when he’d first laid eyes on that notebook. Charles was sure he could ride the high of that look for the rest of eternity. Edwin didn’t even need to get him a Christmas present that year, that look alone had been enough.
“There’s one more thing,” Charles said and held his finger up. He leaned forward and tapped the notebook with a finger to call attention to it. “I also talked to Rosa at the magic shop.” He ignored the way Edwin rolled his eyes at her name, as he was well aware of the strange arguments the two of them got into by now. “And she said that she even had a spell that would, like, give you infinite paper or something. She said you’d have to come by after Christmas, but she’d even help you cast it.”
Edwin’s arms lifted for a moment, almost like he wanted to go in for a hug but he wasn’t sure how. Charles smiled and threw his arms around the other boy, ignoring the way he stiffened at first before relaxing into it.
“Thank you,” Edwin said, his voice muffled by Charles’s shoulder. “This is…. Thank you.”
“Nothing to thank me for,” Charles said. “It’s important to you, yeah? How could I just leave it?” The idea that anything that was important to Edwin, that belonged to any version of Edwin, would just sit there and gather dust seemed abhorrent to Charles. There was no way he could have ever left Edwin’s notebook there, not when he knew how much he missed it and how important it was to him.
“Still,” Edwin said and pressed his face further into Charles’s shoulder. “I feel the need to say thank you. And apologize that your gift is not something as… sentimental as this.”
Charles smiled, and Edwin stepped back. Charles would have never said either one of them was sentimental, so what did it matter if his gift was?
“S’alright,” Charles said. “I’m sure it’s brills.”
Edwin pressed his lips together in a faint smile before nodding. “Right. I was going to wait until Christmas, but since it seems like we’re doing this now, I suppose I can give you this.”
He hurried over to the closet, where Charles knew he’d been hiding a present, even though Edwin had claimed he wasn’t. He emerged a moment later, carrying a long, wrapped gift with a perfect red bow.
“Ohh, how nice,” Charles said. How had he guessed that Edwin was good at gift wrapping? He gave it a quick little pretend shake, trying to see if it made any sort of noise.
Edwin looked less than impressed.
“Fine, I’ll open it,” Charles said, as if Edwin had threatened to twist his arm over it.
He tore the ribbon off and the paper soon followed. A laugh burst out of him at Edwin’s shocked face before he turned his attention back to the gift in his hands.
It was a cricket bat, that much Charles could tell. Not that he had much need for a cricket bat now that he was dead; it’s not like he had enough mates to play or anywhere he could do it that wouldn’t immediately get the ghost hunters called on him.
It was smooth beneath his hand, which was the first sign Charles had that it had been enchanted. He knew it must have been since he could actually feel it, but there was something else about it. The way it moved as he pulled it from the wrapping, the way it practically vibrated as he gave it a test swing. Some sort of enchantment was at work here, and if he had to guess it had likely been Edwin’s handiwork.
“Magic cricket bat,” Edwin said. “It will always come back to you. Eventually.”
Charles quirked an eyebrow. “Eventually?”
A faint hint of red colored Edwin’s cheeks. “My spells could use a little work. But so far, in practice, it has always returned.”
He tried to imagine Edwin chunking a cricket bat around but he couldn’t do it. The other ghost hardly even liked to toss a ball around with Charles when he was especially bored. The idea that he’d been throwing a cricket bat around, trying to get it to magically come back to him like a boomerang was hilarious.
“It is also harder and sturdier than your average bat. And it can hit other supernatural threats, although your results may vary,” Edwin said.
Seemed pretty aces to Charles. Having an actual weapon he could work with against some of the people they dealt with in their line of work might make all of the difference when it came to protecting themselves.
“This is brills,” Charles said, giving it a slight test swing. It’s not that he wanted a case to get dangerous enough that he could use it, but he almost couldn’t wait for it to happen. They wouldn’t even know what hit ‘em!
Edwin smiled fondly, his hands still holding his notebook close to his chest. “Now we will have nothing to exchange on Christmas,” he said, only half serious.
Charles nudged him with the bat, laughing at the indignant look Edwin gave him as a result. “Nah, that just means we gotta find something else for each other.”
Charles doubted he’d ever find anything even half as good as Edwin’s notebook. It was hard to believe that he’d peaked only two years into their friendship, but he just didn’t think it was possible.
Then again, if it put that smile on Edwin’s face, he would find a way to give him the moon if he wanted it.