Work Text:
The burning did not register with Edwin, his smoldering hands not even a consideration.
What did register was Charles’s voice, strained, sobbing, hissing in pain underneath the heavy iron beam that had collapsed onto him, pinning him down, burning through his clothes, singeing his skin.
“Quickly now,” Edwin said urgently, securing his grip and lifting with everything he had.
A living human would have been flooded with adrenaline in such a situation, unlocking the strength to lift even a car to save another. Ghosts had no such advantages, no such survival mechanisms.
Nevertheless, the beam lifted, and Charles scrambled free.