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onpointedfeetandbrokendreams · 3 months ago

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Day 2 - Painland Week

Day 2 of Painland Week 2024: August 5th - August 11th by @painlandweek

Prompt: Myths / Legends

Tags: Post-canon, Case-fic

TW: None

Edwin stopped writing mid-word - which, in hindsight, should have been the first evidence that something was wrong, if Charles hadn’t been distracted - and he asked:

“Sorry, wait a tick, you said you are trying to retrieve a lost sword from a lake, and the sword’s name is?”

“Excalibur, yes,” finished the client.

Edwin tapped the pen over his notebook twice, not even pretending to go back to taking notes - second evidence - and threw the universal ‘closet, now’ look at Charles. For his part, Charles had been listening to the conversation like it was something happening inside a bubble, or on the television, something he wasn’t a part of. His brain had been stuck on a very different train of thought ever since the client entered their office, because the first thing Charles’ mind supplied him with was ‘wow, he’s hot,’ immediately followed by ‘uh, that’s new, since when do I find random boys hot’ and ‘wait, does that mean I can finally be not straight and return Edwin’s feelings?’ - all in all, very confusing thoughts to have in the middle of a potential case.

He did follow Edwin to the closet, though, because it was muscle memory to follow Edwin anywhere without question.

“So what do you think?” Edwin asked, “a curse?”

“It could be, if the missing sword is cursed that would explain why he can’t find it in the lake,” Charles replied, trying to cut through the haze enough to form a sensible thought.

Edwin raised his eyebrows in confusion. It was unusual for them to not be on the same wavelength, they rarely needed to explain themselves further during conversations on almost any topic. It made Charles feel like he had failed some kind of test. “Mr. Rowland, the reading assignments are mandatory to every student.”

“What are you talking about, Charles? There is no sword.”

‘What?’ Charles didn’t say, not eager to repeat the experience.

Edwin apparently could see right through his desperation, because he sighed with that ever-present hint of fondness and explained:

“This man thinks he is Arthur Pendragon, the once and future King of Britain, on a quest to find his missing sword Excalibur. There is absolutely no way that it is true, hence the hypothesis that he might be cursed. It is not unheard of for ghosts to develop mental illnesses, but it usually involves more rage and screaming, thinking you are the long lost King of Britain seems too specific for that.”

Taking a breath he didn’t really need, Charles focused back to the present to catch up with Edwin’s reasoning. “I think we should play along, if he has been cursed, there has to be a reason, maybe he will lead us to the artefact, or the person who cast the spell on him.”

“That is a brilliant idea, Charles,” Edwin agreed with a smile, more to tell him that they were back on the same track than anything. It sent that shiver up his spine that happened every time Edwin looked proud of him.

“We have decided to take your case, sir Pendragon,” Edwin declared as they returned to the office.

“Thank you, my kind subjects,” Arthur replied, and Charles, who was now in control of his mental faculties, had to fight to suppress a snort. He pushed all the ‘men are hot’ thoughts in one of those carefully locked boxes he had started collecting after Port Townsend to consider at a later date, or maybe never.

The hike to the lake where the magic sword was supposed to be was incredibly nice.

“We should do this more often, mate. I mean, mirror travel is cool and all, but look at the view!” He pointed to the mountains in the distance, the clear sky, and he felt excited like that one time he went camping with his friends when he was fifteen - before those same “friends” ended up murdering him.

Edwin put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “That is a good idea, perhaps we could take a small vacation after this case is closed.”

It was nice to see Edwin like that, more open, more relaxed. Not having to fear Death separating them, or Hell coming back to take him had done wonders in improving his well-being, which made a lot of sense if Charles was honest. Now that he had seen Hell himself, he had no idea how Edwin had kept it together as well as he did for over thirty years after he escaped.

“I will have you two executed if you do not find my sword right now,” the client declared.

Charles was quick to bow, not trusting Edwin’s bedside manners enough. “We are sorry, sire, we promise we are doing everything we can.”

They looked everywhere on the lake and around it, Edwin even tried different spells to reveal hidden magic, but they found nothing.

“There must be something we are missing, he does not have the object binding the curse on his person, and I can’t find anything of worth in this place,” Edwin said, moving a bit further from where Arthur was looking longingly at the middle of the lake.

“You know that sentence you wanted to write on the wall of the office? ‘When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth’, maybe he really is what he says.”

Edwin looked a very balanced mix between flustered and impressed. “While I appreciate you remembering my favourite quote, I think if King Arthur existed, we would have heard about it before.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Charles conceded.

While they were going over their notes again, trying to notice something they might have overlooked, or a different spell they could use, an eerie figure appeared next to their client. It was a very pale man, all dressed in black.

The next moment, they were sprinting towards him at full speed.

“Who are you?” asked Edwin, while Charles retrieved his brand new cricket bat from the pocket universe he carried in his backpack.

The man, or being, or whatever he was, smirked, which was an odder sight than if he had manifested eyes all over his body, or a flaming wall behind him. “You must be the ghost detectives my sister is so fond of.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I am Dream of the Endless, I apologise for the inconvenience my escapee might have caused you,” he continued, ignoring Edwin’s disbelief.

“Dream of the Endless,” Charles repeated under his breath, trying to make sense of the words. “So your sister, who is fond of us is…”

“Death,” he said, matter-of-factly. “She wishes you would stay and say hi, sometimes. For now, I thank you for your service.”

He turned to keep talking to Arthur then, and after a while the two of them disappeared in a whirlwind of sand, leaving Charles and Edwin to gape at the empty space where they had been.

“Well that was an experience,” said Charles. “So he was, what? A dream?”

“What a thought, to stop and say hi to Death,” Edwin exhaled at the same time. He was smiling his relaxed smile again, and Charles found his eyes stuck on the curve of his lips, the hint of tongue and teeth peeking from them.

“So, you fancied the once and future king?” the lips moved to form the words, before going back to that beautiful smile.

Only when the meaning registered, Charles blinked. “What? No, of course, I-” he started, before remembering that they did promise each other no more lies, “maybe a little. Didn’t you? He looked like, I don’t know, the perfect example of man, the one you would expect to see on an advertisement for the entire species?”

Edwin pursed his lips, in that expression he made when he was trying not to laugh. “I can admit that he was objectively good looking, but, you know, blond hair and blue eyes is not really my type.”

He said it in his prim tone, the same way he would say ‘pass me that green book on supernatural diseases’, but there was no mistaking the flirtatious glint in his eyes.

Charles stopped. For a moment, it almost seemed like Edwin knew something that he didn’t even fully know himself, something carefully hidden in one of those boxes “to consider at a later date or maybe never” that he had been collecting. But flirting was like a second nature to him, so he couldn’t help but replying:

“Yeah, and what is your type?”

“Let me see,” Edwin said, slowly, carefully, stepping closer with every word. “Tall, athletic, big dark eyes, unruly hair,” he was right in front of him now, “likes to throw himself into danger to protect others, what else? Insanely clever and perceptive. Shall I continue?”

Charles took a deep breath, his eyes were fixed on the small space between them. “I think I should tell you something.”

If it was on anyone else, the fake surprised expression would have fooled him, but he knew Edwin’s eyes and smiles better than his own. He had to struggle to remain serious, even if he appreciated it for what it was: a way to give him the time to set the pace of the conversation and to take the lead.

“I have never allowed myself to think about it before, you know, with my dad being the way he was, but lately I have been noticing that I am attracted to guys as well. At first it was only one specific guy, but-” he stopped, cringing at the way it sounded, “What I mean is, I didn’t say anything because it was something too important, I had to be sure, and it’s easier to admit you can like someone when you have nothing to lose from it.”

The flirty smile turned into a soft one as Edwin said:

“You have every right to take your time and experiment, you don’t have to say anything, I apologise if-”

Charles stopped him very effectively by cupping his face with his hands. “I don’t want to experiment with anyone else, I think I’ve locked up these feelings for long enough.”

Edwin’s eyes widened, he looked like every ounce of confidence he had mustered up until then had left his body. “As much as I pride myself in my detective abilities, I need you to please say it out loud at least once. It’s been quite difficult for me to believe it, even when you were not at all subtle.”

“I like you,” Charles said immediately, wanting to erase the insecurity from his face. “I haven’t stopped thinking about your confession and what it could mean for our future, and I think I am finally ready to take you out on an official date, if you still want that.”

It was Edwin who leaned in first after that, but like it happened many other times, they met in the middle, instantly on the same wavelength again.

Distantly, almost completely hidden behind the all-encompassing sensation of Edwin holding him and their lips pressed together, Charles thought about how absurd it was that he had to thank the fucking King of Britain for finally managing to have this conversation. Edwin would tease him for all eternity.

#painlandweek #dead boy detectives #dbda #payneland #edwin payne #charles rowland

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ace-and-the-rpg-horrors · 8 days ago

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it's absolutely hilarious how much Charles dislikes Monty for getting close to Edwin. the way he says his name with that much VENOM while watching Edwin read the book Monty gave him. especially since this does practically confirm that Charles has unrealised romantic feelings for Edwin - because you know who he doesn't feel ANY jealousy towards at all, despite how close they got to Edwin?

the one and only Niko Sasaki!! Edwin was instantly fond of her, and they have a very affectionate friendship - and Charles was COMPLETELY unbothered. he's extremely friendly with Niko too, in fact!! Charles isn't worried even in the slightest that she's got so much of his best mate's attention. Edwin pops into Niko's bedroom to hang out and lets her hold hands and hug him without complaint - so SURELY, she's the one that Charles would consider the biggest "threat" of stealing his best friend, right?

nope!! Charles says absolutely NOTHING in regards to Niko. but when it's MONTY? all of a sudden, he's going, "you've been spending a lot of time with that one, haven't you??" and when Monty asks for their help, their "case board is full" according to Charles, and Charles alone...

i'll say, Mr Charles "Not-In-Love-With-You-Back" Rowland, i do WONDER why you dislike the boy who happens to briefly catch your best friend's ROMANTIC interest ever so much!! truly a mystery, isn't it?

#ace's random thoughts :)#dead boy detectives #charles rowland #edwin payne #monty finch #monty the crow #niko sasaki #dbda

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coloursflyaway · 6 months ago

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I Will Hold Your Hands To Stop Them From Shaking

Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Rating: T

Word Count: 9.000

Read on AO3

“You don’t have to know how to dance”, Charles says, and he is so close that Edwin can make out the shadows each eyelash paints onto his face. If he had a breath still, the sight would take it. “I never learnt it either. Just move with the music, and I promise that if I spin you ‘round, I won’t drop you.” _____ It doesn't take Charles forever to figure out the rest.

Watching Charles move is easy. Maybe it’s the easiest thing in Edwin’s life right now; it’s definitely something that he hasn’t only started recently, but something that he has always done. Even before he knew what it meant. Because it is so easy.

Everything about Charles seems to be in motion, like motion is what he is deep inside, bright and fluid and everywhere at once, because no place can hold him. None deserves to hold him, not for long. Crystal once told him that Charles used his brightness, his smiles and his constant movement, to cover up all the pain in his past, but Edwin secretly disagrees: there is some of that, he can see that now, but that’s not where it comes from. Where it comes from, that magnetism that ensures that everyone they have ever met grows to love him, is just Charles. Just who he is inside, and who he always would have been, had they not tried to beat it out of him when he was still alive.

And love him, they do. Crystal most certainly does, Jenny almost smiled at him two days ago, and even their new minder – who Charles insists on calling Charlie – seems to struggle to push down a growing affection towards him. She will lose, Edwin knows it for certain. It’s beautiful to see, because that is just what Charles deserves, and it’s… it’s difficult at the same time. Or rather, it was a little easier when there was only Edwin who loved him.

Because love him, he does. Looking back, it’s almost impossible to believe that it has taken him thirty years to realise it, that it took a crow-turned-boy to make him see, a cat king who couldn’t keep his hands to himself, but oh, he loves him.

Loves him to a point where he almost feels like he has a heart again, because he thinks he can feel it beating, just like he thinks he can feel it stop when Charles touches him, smiles at him, gets out that new cricket bat they got and twirls it just to show off. Loves him so much that he feels like it’s not only the reason why he was put on this Earth, but why he died, why he crawled out of hell and why he was permitted to stay here after all. And looking back at it, it was all worth it for a single moment of watching Charles sing a Joan Jett song to himself, spinning in between his steps when he thinks he’s alone.

“I’m voting for the bloke who got mysteriously shanked at the Troxy”, Charles casts in his lot, twirling a pen he is not writing with between his fingers. He’s positively glowing in the warm, late afternoon sunlight. “You just want to go to a concert venue”, Crystal interjects, raising a perfect eyebrow, before chucking a piece of nectarine at him. Charles catches it effortlessly, of course he does, and tosses it right back. They look positively domestic, sitting on opposite sites of the couch they got for their human co-detective, playing with fruit. Edwin aches.

“So what? Nothin’ wrong with having a bit of fun on the job, is there?”, Charles is grinning, looks over at Edwin, who tries not to notice that the brightness of his smile doesn’t waver for a second. “C’mon, mate, back me up here!” “I’m afraid that merely getting stabbed doesn’t sound like something that would necessitate a supernatural investigation”, Edwin answers, and even then, the light doesn’t dim in Charles’ eyes. “I’m sure the normal, living police is more than enough for that.”

“You guys are no fun”, Charles whines and catches another piece of fruit from mid air. “Also, I’ll have you know that the Troxy’s a nice place, people don’t just get stabbed in there.” “Well, apparently they do now.”

“Can you please wipe that smug smirk off your face”, Crystal hisses just after the bouncer waves her through the doors of the Troxy. Edwin, who can only see the back of Charles’ head, still knows that he absolutely doesn’t. “What, I’m only happy to go and see a gig with my mates!”, he shoots back, and Edwin watches the little skip in his step, like he is dancing to a beat that hasn’t started playing yet. “And do a bit of work on the side, of course.”

It’s difficult to regret the decision to take this case, because Charles is glowing, has been since Crystal purchased the ticket to the concert this afternoon. Edwin does not know the act that will be performing and he doubts Charles does either, but that doesn’t seem to matter for a second.

The other two bicker for a few more moments while Edwin tunes out of the conversation to check their surroundings – they are here on a case after all – until Charles spins around on his heels, looking at Edwin expectantly. “Well, have you ever? Was that even a thing in your time?” “Excuse me?” “Been at a gig, mate!” Charles spreads his arms like he is trying to show Edwin all the wonders of the world, his smile so wide it seems to split his face apart. Edwin’s metaphorical heart gives out for a second.

“I haven’t had the, uh, pleasure, yet”, Edwin answers, even while he tries to avoid touching anything in his near vicinity. It’s sticky, just looking at it. “I wish I could tell you that I know you’re gonna love it, but I guess we’ll have to see about that”, Charles tells him, half laughing, and Edwin finds himself smiling, too.

He knows he’ll end up loving it, even if not because of the reason Charles is thinking of.

“Just let us enjoy, like, three songs”, Charles all but begs when the show finally starts. “I swear, after that I will be good and I won’t complain at all when we go work. Just three.” Crystal is holding onto the drink she bought earlier, but she doesn’t say anything, just turns to look at Edwin. Who is powerless to do anything but nod. “Aces! Thanks, Edwin.”

And Charles slings an arm around his shoulders for a second, pulls him into an almost hug, before he turns back to the stage, leaving a cloak of warmth across Edwin’s upper back. Music starts playing, but he doesn’t really notice it, and why should he? Charles is cheering and clapping and moving with the rhythm, and even if Edwin cannot see his face, he can see the joy in him so clearly that it is burnt into the inside of his eyelids every time he blinks.

Charles is the sun, he’s radiance personified, he’s-

He turns around to face Edwin, the music temporarily stopped as the singer says some words into the microphone, and he extends a hand, palm facing upwards. “Do you wanna dance? Shouldn’t leave your first concert without having danced at least once.” Charles is smiling, but it’s different now, encouraging somehow.

It works, because Edwin’s body is moving before he knows it, hand reaching out to take Charles’ like it is nothing when it’s everything instead, when it’s like he can feel the weight of Charles’ fingers in his. “I’m not a prolific dancer, I’ll have you know”, he mutters when Charles pulls him closer, even though chances are that Charles figured that out himself quite easily. “Don’t have to be”, comes the answer, and Charles is so close now that Edwin can make out the shadows each eyelash paints onto his face. If Edwin had a breath still, the sight would take it. “I never learnt it either. Just move with the music, and I promise that if I spin you ‘round, I won’t drop you.”

Another smile, one that Edwin reciprocates, and then the band starts again and Edwin is still not listening to the music. Instead, he is trying to follow Charles when he starts swaying to it, distributing his non-existent weight from one foot to another. It seems to be working because Charles laughs, head thrown back and happiness painted in broad strokes across his entire being, and puts a hand on Edwin’s side, like he is trying to guide him. Like Edwin wouldn’t follow anywhere he is going anyway.

“You’re getting it!”, Charles shouts at him over the music, too loud and yet not loud enough, and then Charles is lifting their joined hands for everyone and no one to see, the hand on Edwin’s hip giving him a little push and Charles is spinning him. Doesn’t drop him, just like he promised. It’s silly and a little immature and it makes Charles laugh and Edwin follow suit; it’s wonderful and thrilling, and then Charles glances behind Edwin’s shoulder at Crystal.

Who he would rather be dancing with, of course. But who has been to concerts before, and who might garner attention they do not need when being spun by an invisible hand.

Charles’ eyes dart back to his, and his smile is the same, and Edwin thinks, thank you, thank you for this, and means it.

They don’t find much, but for once, that doesn’t matter too much to Edwin, because Charles keeps glowing for days afterwards. There’s an extra spring in his step that carries him all the way up to the victim’s flat, where Crystal finds the clue that leads them to their rather unsatisfying explanation to their mystery: the brother of a mistreated ex-girlfriend, who saw an opportunity for anonymous revenge. It’s worth it, all of it, every time.

“But if you haven’t tried it, how do you know it doesn’t work?”, Charles asks, partly incredulous, partly amused. “You might be able to eat! Do you know how much I miss eating? What I would give for, let’s say, a day where I could eat again?” Charlie, since she hasn’t settled on another name yet, scoffs, and primly sits down on the sofa. “As I have explained, I have no interest in trying any kind of sustenance that is offered here on the mortal plane. The thought disgusts me.”

Charles groans and flings himself back onto the armchair – they keep getting more and more furniture, it seems – so that his head is hanging off it, upside down, looking at Edwin. “Edwin, I’m right, yeah? You know that I’m right.”

“He’s right”, Edwin tells Charlie, and even upside down, Charles’ smile lights up the entire room.

It’s late at night, around four a.m., Crystal is asleep and Charlie hasn’t shown her face in the office in the last few days, so it’s just them. Nights like this are Edwin’s favourite – he has never spoken it aloud, but he suspects Charles knows anyway, might even feel the same occasionally – and they have become… not rare, but less frequent than they used to be, because Crystal has no established sleeping schedule and Charlie drops in whenever she feels like it anyway. But, oh, Edwin has missed them.

They do not have an active case right now, will probably pick a new one come the morning, so it really is just them. Charles is trying to balance a ball on his cricket bat, spread out on the couch he seems to enjoy much more than he wants to admit, Edwin has just picked out a new book after finishing his last one, and there is space left between Charles’ feet and the armrest on the sofa. It’s not a choice Edwin makes, sitting down next to him. Where else would he go?

There is enough room for both of them, and yet Charles lifts his legs when Edwin approaches, even though it means dropping the ball right into the hollow between his neck and chest. And he lets Edwin settle there, caught between the cushions and Charles’ feet, as if it is the easiest thing in the world. And really, it is.

Without thinking, Edwin rests one hand on Charles’ ankle, fingers circling his leg, while he picks up the new book, a novel this time. Charles does the same with his ball, throwing and catching it when it comes back down a few times, before putting it back on the cricket bat. It’s familiar, it’s new; it’s how Edwin wants to spend eternity.

“Watcha reading?”, Charles asks eventually, after the ball has dropped another three times, and while being interested in Edwin’s reading isn’t that uncommon for Charles, it startles Edwin slightly. He glances over at Charles, who looks like he has been watching Edwin for some time, and shows him the cover. “East of Eden”, he tells him for good measure, “a novel, for once.” “Even though you don’t have a friend to talk about them with anymore?”

Charles seems genuinely curious, and while Edwin does occasionally finds himself missing Monty and their conversations, it still seems like an odd thing to ask. “Of course I have someone to talk to about them. I have you, don’t I?” Although it takes a moment, it makes Charles smile; he looks almost a little wistful and Edwin isn’t sure if he likes that expression on his handsome face.

“Well, yeah. But it’s not like I can talk back about them, innit?” Charles tosses the ball again, catches it effortlessly, and maybe Edwin has to stop with the novels after all, because for a second he thinks, just like he has caught me every time I needed catching. “I could read it to you, if you wanted me to?”

He doesn’t expect much – Charles doesn’t enjoy books like Edwin does – but Charles nods immediately, tosses the ball again, catches it, and looks at Edwin with a smile that fits his face much better. “Yeah, I’d like that. A lot, actually.”

“I am telling you, this is something the police will be able to solve on their own, and if it isn’t, they should most likely lose their jobs, because they are incredibly incompetent”, Charles repeats for what feels like the sixth time, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He just so stops himself from rolling his eyes. Crystal has become a somewhat valued member of the detective agency, however, sometimes, it is like she simply doesn’t want to understand what he is telling her.

“They have been trying to solve it! For two weeks!” Crystal looks as exasperated as Edwin feels, which, at least, is some comfort. Maybe the frustration will make her more likely to give up her ludicrous idea of helping with a perfectly run-of-the-mill hit and run. “Charles! Back me up on this!”

For a second, Charles just looks between them, obviously amused, then he throws an arm around Edwin’s shoulders, squeezing him close to his side. “Sorry, Crystal”, he replies, and Edwin can hear the smile in his voice, wants to trace it with his fingertips, “I’m with my best mate on this one.”

“You wanna read to me again?”, Charles asks that same night after Crystal has gone to bed, lifting his legs to make room for Edwin. As if he knew his answer already. He does.

“I didn’t think you enjoyed the story this much”, Edwin remarks as he settles down between the sofa and Charles’ legs, reminded once more that this might be his favourite place in the world. His hand finds Charles’ ankle, only that this time, he touches not only fabric, but skin as well. “It’s alright”, Charles replies, shoots Edwin a little smile. “I’m mainly enjoying you reading it to me.”

If he had still a heart to pump blood through his astral body, Edwin is certain he would be blushing, because of Charles’ words, the sliver of skin pressing against his palm, or both.

Slowly but surely, it becomes a regular thing between them. Once or twice, occasionally even three times a week, Charles will look up at him from the sofa, lift his legs in invitation, and say, “Read to me?” And Edwin will slide into the best place this world has to offer, put his hand around Charles’ thin, graceful ankle, and start reading to him about the Salinas Valley.

Things are quiet, for their standards, because they are approaching Halloween and the ghosts are preparing for it like the living do, perhaps more so, when Charles looks up from the strange tablet computer Crystal is trying to get them to use. Charles, admittedly, is much better at it than Edwin, but at least in Edwin’s eyes, that was to be expected.

“This might be interesting”, Charles says and turns the device around so Crystal and Edwin can see. “A magician’s assistant went missing during a show, her body was found half an hour later, but halfway across the country. And in two places. They have no idea how she got there, it should be impossible. Nor how she got cut in half. Sounds supernatural to me, doesn’t it?”

Edwin scans the article for a second; it does sound interesting, sounds supernatural, but… “We don’t exactly have a client though, do we?” “I know, but I’m sure that if we find the ghost of that assistant, and she hasn’t passed on yet, she would be interested in solving it. And it would be a proper mystery again, you love those.” Charles smiles at him, because he knows he has won already; Edwin does love those. Slowly, he nods.

“Great. Crystal? You’re on board?” This time, he needs to do no convincing at all, because Crystal is grinning already. “Oh, absolutely. Magical nonsense with an actual magician? I’m so in.”

They take the train to Cambridge, where the body was found after disappearing in Manchester, and Edwin bites back every comment he might make about how much quicker it would be to travel via mirror. His point still stands, of course, but Crystal is now part of the agency, and, mostly against his will, Edwin has started to grow fond of her. And more importantly, Charles has. So they file into the small, dingy train wagon, where Crystal has booked not one, but three seats for them. It’s thoughtful, if not frugal, but as Crystal reassured Edwin when he brought it up, her parents have more than enough money and also owe her something for not even noticing when she disappeared.

It makes sense, in a way.

So they sit down, Crystal pulling out the tablet computer and a pair of oversized headphones, making it look like she is talking to someone over the internet instead of them. Quite a clever disguise, Edwin has to admit.

“So, I think the best plan of action is to first go to the site where they found the body. If the ghost is still on the mortal plane, then she might be hanging around. And if not, Crystal can maybe read something around the place, find out about what happened that way.” Charles says, and snatches Edwin’s spare pen right from his breast pocket to twirl it between the elegant fingers Edwin usually tries not to notice. “And anyway, we are getting out of town for a bit again, and that by itself is pretty exciting, isn’t it?”

Exciting might not be the word Edwin would choose, but he has to agree that a change of scenery is welcome. He nods, while his gaze follows the motions of his pen, the flex of tendons under Charles’ skin. When he looks back up, Crystal is watching him with an expression he cannot quite place.

“I don’t think I have ever been to Cambridge”, she finally says, although Edwin can hear the expression in her voice still. “So, yeah, sure. Nice to see something else. How about you guys?” “We were there in, what? ‘92, maybe? Definitely in 2006”, Charles replies, not noticing the expression at all, but then again, it isn’t directed at him. “The case of the missing sledgehammer and the Coca Cola vending machine, and the one with the electric monk.”

“I would posture that the first case had more to do with the man that went missing, but otherwise, Charles, you are quite correct”, Edwin replies, and he is not thinking about how they were back then, not wondering if, even twenty years ago, he had been this hopelessly in love with Charles. He suspects he was, but he is too good a detective to allow himself to spend more time wondering about it, lest he lose himself in the question.

“The electric – you know, all things considered, I don’t want to know, just forget I almost asked”, Crystal starts, then stops again, making Charles laugh. “Don’t worry, explaining the whole thing would take too long for this train ride anyway”, he comments, “and I would rather just enjoy it. Haven’t been on a train in a long time, have I?”

“And how does one enjoy a ride on the British National Rail? I don’t think that has ever been done before”, Crystal asks, but Charles just smiles. “Like this”, he answers and turns around so he faces the window, settling back against Edwin’s shoulder to use him as a backrest. The position is slightly awkward, doesn’t seem like one in which Charles will truly be able to enjoy the view, so Edwin adjusts his body slightly, turning it towards Charles’ back and puts the arm Charles is resting against over his shoulder, leaving it stretched out across Charles’ chest. Who grasps his wrist like Edwin does his ankle when he reads to him, holds onto it and settles back like they have done this a thousand times before. They haven’t, but Edwin allows himself the quiet hope that maybe, they will.

The expression doesn’t leave Crystal’s face for the entire train ride.

They arrive at their destination, a street corner with a quite charming looking French restaurant and a church on either side. Apparently they had found half of the woman’s body in the courtyard of the church, the other half in some bushes across the street, but, as Crystal informs them while reading off her phone, without any blood around the pieces. It is mysterious, and Edwin would be lying if he wasn’t itching to solve the puzzle.

To speed things up, they split apart, with Charles and Crystal going to the church, where the top half of the body was found, while Edwin walks over to the small square on the other side. Finding the spot where they had found the corpse is easy enough; police tape is boxing it in and the bushes are trampled around it to the point where Edwin almost pities them.

He walks through them, grateful that the twigs and thorns cannot snag at his spectral clothing, but there is nothing to be found that the police, or their boots, have left untouched. And just as Crystal said, not a single drop of blood that would suggest someone’s cleaved-in-half body had been left there just two days earlier. It is disappointing until he hears his name called from behind him, Charles running up to him with his curls bouncing, his steps light and sure. He’s a vision, just like he always is, and Edwin loves him to the point where it feels like it is splitting his body apart at the seams.

“Edwin!”, Charles calls out again and comes to a halt in front of the police tape. “We found the ghost! And she is even willing to pay!”

Amina, as the ghost in question is called, turns out to be a woman in her late twenties, with long, dark hair and a faint German accent, wearing something akin to a 1920s cocktail dress which she had apparently died in, although there is nothing left to suggest she had ever been split into pieces. “This is Edwin, my partner”, Charles introduces him, and Amina gives him a smile that looks practice and sincere simultaneously. “Well, you are a delightful addition”, Amina comments, her voice deep and warm, one eyebrow elegantly arched.

“I strive to be, at least”, Edwin replies, “Now, can you tell us anything about what happened to you?” “Of course. It isn’t much, though. I was on stage, and we were about to perform one of our usual tricks. Nothing crazy, just your standard disappearing assistant. Arnold did his speech, like he always does, then I stepped into our little cabinet and he pulled the curtain shut, so I could get into the hidden compartment below the stage.” She pauses for a moment, then adds, “Actually, I only remember opening and stepping into it, not getting inside. And then I found myself here, in Cambridge, where we had been only a few nights ago with the show. Not too far from where we had been staying, actually.”

“So you recognised the place?” “After a little while. At first, I was just very confused.” She shrugs her shoulders, one of the straps that holds up her dress falling down; she doesn’t fix it. “But my grandmother was a medium and used to talk about ghosts quite a lot, so I caught on relatively quick, all things considered. I spent some time trying to figure our what had happened myself, but now you and your little trio of detectives are here, so at least I will be able to sort this out before I pass.”

Edwin has the distinct feeling that she’d take a drag from a cigarette if she could, but like this she just stops talking, a moment of silence stretching between them.

“I tried to do a reading, but all that I could find out about this place and how Amina ended up here, is that she did. A flash of light and then there was a dismembered torso lying on the ground”, Crystal eventually says, gesturing at the floor. “Not exactly helpful, is it?” “Well…”, Edwin starts, glances over to Charles and realises that they are thinking the same thing. Charles is quicker.

“What colour did the light have?”, he asks and Edwin can’t help but smile at him; Charles gives him the quickest of looks, one corner of his lips upturned. “The colour?”, Crystal asks back, a second slower than expected, “Sort of…. green, I guess? Does that mean anything?”

But Charles is already looking at Edwin, the smile fully formed, and it’s in unison they say, “Oh, yes.”

It’s a spell, of course it is, but it’s more than that: it’s a portal, and a shoddily made one, too. Edwin tries to explain, but he, quite honestly, doesn’t have the patience for it, so in the end, Charles takes over. Sits Amina and Crystal down and goes through it step by step: that the portal was done by someone who obviously didn’t have the practice, that it worked well enough to transport half of Amina at a time, but not all of her, and that that is why there was no blood. That the only question is if it was done maliciously or by accident.

“Your magician, the one you work with, is he, you know. A real magician?”, Charles asks, keeping his voice soft and sweet, although Edwin isn’t certain Amina needs it. For someone recently murdered, she is taking it in stride. “Oh no, it is all an act”, she answers easily, “Nothing but slight of hand, tricks, that kind of thing.” “So no way he could have created the portal?”

“I don’t think so? And why would he want to? The whole point is that I come back after I disappear, so getting me here, cut in half, would defeat the purpose, don’t you think?” She looks at them, one by one. “Also, Arnold, he is a little bit of a dork, but he is kind. Has a bit of a crush on me, if I’m being honest. It’s… sweet. Or something.” She smiles, almost pityingly, in a way that, if Charles had looked at him like this when he had confessed his feelings, would have broken the heart he doesn’t have into the smallest pieces. Edwin hopes against all hope that Amina never let her magician see that smile.

“Okay, so-”, Charles starts, and there is something wrong with his voice; when Edwin looks over at him, there is something off about his expression, too. Like there is something he wants to say but can’t. For a second, their eyes meet, then Charles focusses back on Amina. “We’ll still talk to him. After all, it was his cupboard the portal was in. Anyone you could think of that might have wanted to harm you otherwise?”

Amina shakes her head, and Charles nods, but the smile he gives her looks almost frail.

Once they’re on the platform for their train to Manchester, and Crystal has left them behind to get herself a few snacks for the ride, Charles suddenly turns to him. “Edwin”, he says, and there is an urgency in his voice that Edwin doesn’t associate with it at all. “I just- you know that that is not how I think of you, right?” “What?” “Like Amina”, Charles tries to explain, and if possible, he sounds even more urgent, more intense. “I don’t see you how she talked about her magician friend. Arnold. I never will. I never could. And I need you to know that.”

Standing there, he looks so earnest, so fierce, that Edwin wishes it still could take his breath away. Because it doesn’t matter that Charles isn’t in love with him, as long as he loves him like this: fully, completely, enough to be afraid that Edwin might be hurt by someone else’s comments about a person he has never met.

He permits him himself a little smile, because of course, Charles would notice, before he puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. “I know”, he answers and sees the tension wash out of Charles’ form within a second, his gaze dropping as if he has to collect himself before looking at Edwin again. “I know you never would. I didn’t doubt it for a second. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.” Charles almost breathes the word instead of speaking; when he looks up at Edwin again, his eyes are dark and full of affection, full of gratitude Edwin isn’t sure he deserves. After all, the only reason he knows it is because Charles has proven it again and again. “I’m – God, I’m glad, I don’t know what I would have done if you had ever thought it was like that with us.”

And he hugs Edwin to his chest, all that intensity, that urgency captured between two arms; Edwin sinks into it like he might not have permitted himself to a few months ago, and wishes he still had a sense of smell so he could breathe Charles in.

Their trip to Manchester is uneventful, Crystal munching on chocolate while listening to a podcast, and Charles looking out of the window at the scenery, this time, unfortunately not leaning back against Edwin’s chest. However, like this, Edwin gets to see the joy bloom on his pretty face whenever they pass something that delights him in particular. Because that is Edwin’s pastime: watching Charles.

He gets caught doing it, too, but then again, it doesn’t feel like getting caught at all, since Charles just smiles at him when he notices Edwin watching, points out something in the fast-moving distance. A cow, maybe, a cloud formation that reminds him of something. And then he turns back to the window, and Edwin goes back to watching him, the slope of his nose and the arch of his eyebrows, the sharp cut of his jaw. The darkness of his eyes and how they light up so easily, so often.

If he could, he would stay here. Maybe not for eternity, but maybe a decade or two.

Neither of them has been in Manchester in a decade, so it’s like stepping into a new city when they finally arrive. Charles takes off immediately, looking around the train station in wonder, but before Edwin can sigh and watch him, or maybe do the reasonable thing and follow, Crystal stops him.

“There is something going on between you two”, she doesn’t ask, just states, like she knows she is right. Which, of course, she is. Since it seems foolish to try and deny it, Edwin just nods. Doesn’t know what to say, if she wants an explanation, or just to let him know that she has noticed.

“Charles has told me about hell and all that”, she continues, and again, Edwin nods; he figured as much. In fact, he is quite grateful for not having to do it himself. “But it isn’t trauma bonding, not that you guys would need any more of that. It’s the way you look at him, the way he looks at you. Something has changed between you and I can’t put my finger on it.”

“It has”, Edwin confirms, and Crystal squints at him like she is trying to read him. “But not to worry, it’s nothing bad. Just complicated, I suppose.” His response draws a laugh from Crystal, her eyes sparkling with mirth and like Edwin has completely misunderstood her. “Oh no, Edwin, I know it’s nothing bad”, she replies, laughter still colouring her words. “I just wanted to know if you felt like telling me what kind of good thing it is, since Charles doesn’t seem to.”

Finding the magician turns out to be easier than expected. So easy, in fact, that they almost don’t, because looking in the venue where Amina disappeared seems too on the nose, all of them agree, and just stop by because Crystal wants to do a reading for clues where he might be. Which turns out to be the same theatre, sitting in the front row with his head in his hands, looking to Edwin like his shoulders are carrying the weight of existence itself.

“Uh… hi?”, Crystal tries to introduce herself, and it’s like pulling at the strings of a marionette how fast his head snaps up, red-rimmed eyes staring up at her. The Astonishing Arnold is a man in his thirties, hair dyed black and a little moustache over his upper lip, and he is devastated.

It’s pain Edwin cannot comprehend, and hopefully never will have to, but one he can empathise with; it looks like he thinks losing Charles might feel like. Without thinking, he turns his head, almost to make sure that Charles is still there, only to find that Charles is looking at him already, the same kind of understanding painted in bold strokes across his face. This was no little crush, and that makes Amina’s response to it so much worse.

“Hello”, Arnold says, quickly wiping at his eyes. “Are you… lost or something?” Crystal shakes her head and Edwin can see her make a quick calculation, decide on a plan of action. She is truly getting quite good at this. “I’m here about Amina. I’m a medium and I want to help.”

Her name is enough to draw a sob from Arnold’s lips; Crystal glances over at them quickly and Charles gives her a thumbs up, a brittle-looking smile. She’ll take this one. “I talked to Amina”, Crystal continues, “I want to help her find out what happened, so she can move onto the afterlife. She mentioned you and that she really cared about you. Said you were the kindest person she knew.”

She’s twisting Amina’s words, but Edwin cannot blame her, not when Arnold looks so broken down by what happened, not when a lie might ease a little of his pain.

“And she said she knows that you have nothing to do with her death”, Crystal continues, “That you would never do something like that.” A tremor runs through Arnold’s body, like an earthquake, a cosmic event, and then he drops his gaze to where he has clenched his hands in front of his chest. It looks like he is praying. “That’s where she is wrong”, he finally says, and it’s a confession, it’s a plea for help. “Because I did.”

It turns out to be a failed ploy to woo Amina, in the end. A portal to transport her to a restaurant they had been meaning to go to back in Cambridge, the little French place on the corner, where a reservation and a bottle of chilled champagne was waiting for them. Arnold would join her after the show, with a bouquet of roses he had stashed away in his dressing room, to ask her to give him a chance.

“I knew she didn’t feel the same way”, he admits, tears streaming down his face. “But I thought maybe I could win her over. I’ve loved for so long, I thought maybe that could be enough, that I could love her enough for the both of us. And I figured, real magic, that would impress her. That would impress anyone, right?”

Only that Arnold had no experience with real magic, had only found a volume of spells on one of their trips by chance and had practiced on objects first, then small animals. It had worked, well enough that he thought he was ready to do this, without realising that while his portals were able to transfer the bunnies and birds that they kept for their shows from one side of the room to the other, they couldn’t yet handle a grown woman and this much distance.

“It was only after the show that I started freaking out”, he continues and Edwin’s heart aches for him, more so than it did for Amina. “When I was preparing to go through the portal myself I found a strand of her hair, cut off, looking like it had been singed. Amina was always so careful with her hair, so I knew something was wrong. The portal itself looked different, too, like there was static running through it. I called her, because I know that she always keeps her stupid Apple watch on, even during the shows. We had so many fights about that.”

He sniffles, the ghost of a smile passing over his face at the memory, followed by a wave of fresh tears, most likely caused by the realisation that they will never have that fight again. Crystal reaches into her pocket and hands him a tissue, and Edwin drops the hand he is holding his pen with for a moment, glad that his fingers don’t have the ability to cramp any longer. Yet, he shakes them out; when he stops, there’s a hand reaching for his.

His non-existent heart seizes up in his spectral chest and he looks over at Charles, who is holding onto his hand, intertwining their fingers. Charles looks back, raising an eyebrow as if to ask, is this okay? and Edwin nods, although he isn’t sure if it’s the right answer to give. Not because he doesn’t want to hold Charles’ hand, but because he isn’t sure if he will be able to concentrate on anything but this, now.

The notes, in any case, will have to be written later.

Arnold is drying his tears, and Charles’ fingers are slender between his own, elegant and strong, and Edwin is trying his best to listen when Arnold starts speaking again and yet isn’t sure if he succeeds.

“She didn’t pick up”, Arnold says and it’s like his heart is breaking within the words, “Of course she didn’t. And I started panicking, but I didn’t know what to do. Go through the portal myself and try and look for her? Call the police? Drive to Cambridge? Before I decided on one thing, I got a call and they told me they had found her. Gotten my number from the stupid Apple watch.”

He shakes his head, like he is still not sure how to process any of this; in his lap, his fingers are tearing the tissue apart, bit by bit, but Edwin isn’t sure that Arnold even notices. “I tried to confess to the police”, he continues, every word a sob, “But what was I supposed to say? That I created a magical portal to take her to dinner, but instead ended up cutting the woman I love into pieces? They would never have believed me. I wouldn’t believe me, if it hadn’t happened to me.” There is a pause, and Edwin can see that Crystal is trying to find the words to say something, but Arnold beats her to it.

“When you see her again, tell her I am sorry”, he asks Crystal, no, begs her. “Tell her I never meant for this to happen. Tell her… tell her I love her.”

Another wave of tears and the fingers around Edwin’s hand tighten; when Edwin looks over, there are tears in Charles’ eyes too.

“I will”, Crystal promises, and Edwin hopes that something so small can be enough.

In the end, they don’t tell Amina anything. Instead Charles brings her to Manchester via mirror, where she crouches down before the man that loved her above all else, and there is pity in her eyes, but genuine affection, too.

“Tell him… tell him it’s okay”, she says softly, and reaches out to hold his clasped hands in hers. “Tell him I forgive him. And… even if I am not sure if it’s the truth, tell him I would have said yes.”

Walking back to the train station afterwards is a quiet affair, each of them lost to their own thoughts, until Crystal stops them between the bustling crowd, the cafés and stores. “You two go ahead without me. Use the mirror to get back”, she tells them, “I could use some time alone after all this.”

“Are you sure?”, Charles asks, trying and almost failing to give her a smile. “We can be quiet.” “Yeah, I really am. I’ll see you in a couple of hours”, she says, and squeezes Charles’ shoulder like Charles had held onto Edwin’s hand; to make sure he is okay, to let him know that she is. “After I have eaten my weight in Gregg’s sausage rolls and Cadbury crème eggs.”

The agency is quiet, almost empty, without Crystal here, and it is a strange thing to realise. Before Edwin can contemplate what it means, Charles has flung himself down onto the couch, looking up at Edwin with wide, hopeful, beautiful eyes. He lifts his legs a fraction, and Edwin knows his answer, the same answer as always, before he has heard the question. “Read to me?”

“He followed the Rio Grande past Albuquerque and El Paso through the Big Bend, through Laredo to Brownsville. He learned Spanish words for food and pleasure, and he learned that when people are very poor they still have something to give and the impulse to give it…”, Edwin reads, aware that this time, Charles is doing nothing to keep his hands occupied. He’s just lying there, his feet in Edwin’s lap, listening. If it means anything, Edwin isn’t sure what it is.

“I wish I could fall asleep like this”, Charles interrupts him, smiling softly when Edwin looks up from his book. “It would be nice, listening to the story and your voice and just drift off.” Edwin’s fingers tighten around his ankle unwillingly; Charles must notice it, if he doesn’t, then he at least hears the warmth, the heaviness in Edwin’s voice when he answers. “Do you want to pretend to? I’ll keep reading, but you could close your eyes.”

“Yeah”, Charles replies after a moment has passed, and a bit of the light that has been missing in his gaze returns. “That sounds really nice, actually.” And he settles back, letting his eyes flutter shut, and Edwin continues reading.

“He developed a love for poor people he could not have conceived if he had not been poor himself. And by now he was an expert tramp, using humility as a working principle…”

Crystal returns a few hours later, when the sun has long since set.

They are still on the couch, positions unchanged, but Charles’ eyes are closed and the blanket Edwin had thrown over them earlier is concealing where Edwin’s thumb is brushing circles against the thin skin of Charles’ ankle. She doesn’t say anything, just looks at them for a moment, then sits down into the armchair and lets her head fall back against the cushions.

Edwin continues reading.

It’s morning, but just so, the first rays of sunlight forcing their way through the clouds. A few days have passed since Amina’s case, and slowly, they seem to be getting back to themselves, which is why Edwin looks up from the book he is reading – by himself, this time – and asks, “Why didn’t you tell Crystal about the confession?”

Charles keeps his eyes on the tablet computer for a few more seconds, then glances at Edwin, shrugging his shoulders. He’s only wearing a shirt, his jacket discarded on the armchair, and somehow, it makes every motion even more distracting. “Wasn’t my story to tell, was it?”, he replies easily, like he never even considered it before. “Didn’t know if you’d want her to know, either.”

Edwin isn’t sure about that himself, but he knows that he wouldn’t have blamed Charles if he had told Crystal. After all, he deserves someone to share his feelings with that isn’t Edwin, even if it hurts a little to admit that. It was just the two of them for so long, is all.

“I wouldn’t have minded it”, he says, and Charles chuckles a little at that, sets the tablet aside. “Not minding and wanting something are different things, though. Do you want me to tell her?” “I’m not sure”, Edwin replies, then considers it for a second longer. “I do, if it would help you.”

“Help me? With what?” There is genuine confusion written on his face, and Edwin can’t help but smile at him. “As I have gathered”, he replies, “it is considered helpful to talk to one’s friends to solve a problem.”

A pause, then Charles laughs, a soft, sweet sound that makes very little sense in this particular situation. Until he says, his voice so warm and so full of affection it makes Edwin tingle all over, “Edwin, mate. Your feelings have never been a problem. Not to me.”

They find another case a few days later, a simple one. A missing necklace that is supposed to be given to a daughter, like it had been given forty years ago to their client. Crystal finds it easily, hidden behind cracks in the floorboards, and when blue light starts glowing behind their client, Charles reaches out and takes Edwin’s hand in his. Not to make sure that he is okay this time, Edwin thinks, but just to hold it.

By now, they have made it through almost half of East of Eden; sometimes Crystal joins them, but today, it’s just Charles and him. “You know”, Charles says in the pause between two words, which is a surprise, because Edwin thought he was pretending to sleep. His eyes are closed, after all, and Edwin has gotten him a blanket to cocoon into twenty minutes earlier. “Sometimes it reminds me of dying, you reading to me like this.”

The words are a slap to the face, delivered in a warm, relaxed voice. “Oh. Oh God, if I had known, I wouldn’t have- “, Edwin stutters, trying to stand up, but Charles’ eyes fly open, his hand reaching out to hold Edwin in place. “No, no, no, this is brills, that’s not what I mean at all”, he says quickly, sincerely, and Edwin settles back against the cushions, still unconvinced.

“I didn’t really think about how that would sound”, Charles chuckles, scrubbing a hand across his face. “Sorry for that. I just… I guess, dying isn’t that bad a memory for me. Sure, it sucked, it was really cold and kind of hurt, but you were there. Talking to me. Reading to me. And, to be honest, I hadn’t felt that… not-alone for a long time prior to that. So, yeah, this reminds me of dying, because dying wasn’t that bad. And probably the most important thing I ever did in my life.”

He gives Edwin a smile that would heat up his cheeks, if he still had the ability to blush; like this, it just makes warmth bloom in his chest, where his heart would be. “You dying isn’t that bad a memory to me either”, he confesses, something he has felt a certain amount of shame about until this very moment. “I didn’t want you to die, of course, but if you hadn’t…”

His voice trails off, because he cannot bring himself to say it, not sure if it would be too much, but he doesn’t have to. “Then we wouldn’t have this”, Charles completes his sentence, sitting up so he can grasp the hand Edwin had been holding the book in, squeezing it tightly. Like he doesn’t want to let go again. “I know. Seems worth it, to me.”

Another smile, utterly sincere, then Charles settles back against the cushions. “And thank you, for letting me stay.”

The door opens, and Crystal steps out of the room Charles dragged her into a few minutes earlier. Something about her expression is conflicted, unreadable, but when she sees Edwin watching her, her eyes soften, even if the struggle doesn’t disappear. One, two steps, then she stops and looks at Edwin.

“Good for you”, she finally says, and even if Edwin doesn’t know what she is referring to, he knows she means it.

“Wanna come upstairs?”, Charles asks, rocking back on his heels. “Look at the stars for a bit with me?”

It wasn’t how Edwin intended to spend the evening, since they have a new case and he should do some research, but Charles looks at him with a ghost of a smile on his lips, hope in his gaze, and Edwin loses the battle before he has even decided to fight it. “Of course, he replies and closes the book without noting where he stopped reading.

If he could feel, the night air would be crisp and fresh against his skin. Like this, it’s just clear, lets the stars shine brightly against the darkness of the sky. They used to do this more often, back when they first set up the agency; why they stopped, Edwin cannot quite say. Because it’s nice up here, the sounds of the busy streets mostly muffled, just enough space for the two of them. It’s intimate, it’s theirs, and Edwin hadn’t even realised that he missed it.

Charles is standing with his back to him, fussing around with something, cursing under his breath, so Edwin cranes his head back to see more stars. Long ago, he learnt the names of the constellations over London, but right now it seems difficult to recall a single one.

Before he can remember, a note rings out, strange and unexpected, and when Edwin looks down to find the source, Charles has turned around, Crystal’s Bluetooth speaker glowing with a dim, purple light behind him. He’s playing music, and it makes Edwin smile, even if he doesn’t recognise the song, because, of course, Charles would want to have something playing in the background to watch the stars.

“It’s the band we saw back at the Troxy”, Charles explains, and he looks nervous, almost. Hands clasped together in front of his body, fingers tangling and untangling, the smile on his lips bearing an edge Edwin isn’t familiar with. “You know, the stabbing case. I thought, maybe you would like to dance? The song is the same, even.”

His gaze drops and when he looks up at Edwin again, it’s from beneath his lashes; it’s enough to set Edwin’s immortal soul aflame. Charles has always been beautiful, Edwin had known that since the first moment he had set eyes on him, but he looks ethereal now, a painting, a statue carved in marble and gold.

He nods, because he doesn’t trust his voice, and Charles smiles so wide it’s blinding. Ducking his head once more, he steps forward and takes Edwin’s hand in his, puts the other one on his waist, and although they have only done this once before, it feels like like it is their rightful place. It feels like coming home.

Edwin’s other hand settles on Charles’ shoulder, and it feels so easy to start swaying in time with him, shifting his weight from one foot to the other so he can continue to look at Charles, who is looking back so openly, like he wants Edwin to read every single of his thoughts, his feelings. He can’t, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t trying.

“It might sound a little silly”, he finally says, and Edwin wants to kiss the words out of his mouth, wants to listen to his voice for the rest of time, “but I never thought about this. Never considered it. I’m not sure why, but in the end, it doesn’t matter, does it? Because I love you. I’ve always loved you. Ever since you read me detective stories so I wouldn’t die alone.”

He smiles and Edwin is combusting, he’s being torn apart, he’s bubbling over with happiness and with love and with gratitude to be here with Charles, to have gotten the privilege of knowing him, loving him.

“You know when I said we would have forever to figure out what the rest between us meant?”, Charles asks, and Edwin nods, speechless. “I don’t think we’ll need that long. I think I’ve figured it out already.”

And he leans in, slowly, like this is a moment he wants to savour, and kisses Edwin with so much love, so much devotion, he can feel reverberate through every part of his soul. His hand slides from Charles’ shoulder to cup his face, and Edwin was wrong before. Because this is its rightful place.

This is coming home.

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #dbd #edwin payne #edwin paine #charles rowland #painland #payneland #paynland #chedwin #charles x edwin #edwin x charles #tagging them is really difficult guys we have to figure out a better system for this #especially a shipname #also i wrote this in 3 days beginning about 5 minutes after finishing the last episode #these boys are everything

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clearnachopirate · 14 days ago

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a bit more of Charles' statement bc i have no

impulse control lol

Archivist: I thought you hadn't met Mr. Payne yet?

Charles: I hadn't. (A pause) So I sat and read it, didn't I? But it was a weird book. Later some bloke named Leightner bought it, that much I know. But I went through the door, and years later, I’m here.

Archivist: (After a long moment) Leightner? Jurgan Leightner?

Charles: I think so, yeah. Anyway, that's why I don't play cricket anymore, so I guess I’ll be off, Edwin’s waiting for me back at the office-

Archivist: Wait. You mentioned a door.

Charles: (The sound of someone sitting back down) I did.

Archivist: (Another pause) Can you describe it?

Charles: I can.

Archivist:...

Charles: Oh you want me to describe it now?

Archivist: (through gritted teeth) Yes, if you would.

Charles: No, sorry, mate. Edwin says you shouldn't know more about that yet, so-

Archivist: Who is Edwin Payne, then? You said he left you that book. The Leightner.

Charles: He did, well he didn't mean to, did he. (Charles laughs, and the tape glitches, almost catching on itself as it records) Edwin’s my best mate. (Charle’s voice is noticeably softer as he sighs) Helped me out quite a bit when I first Became, even though he wanted nothing to do with me.

Archivist: When you… became?

Charles: (A sigh, this time a bit annoyed) Not became. Became.

Archivist: You… you've just repeated precisely what I’ve said.

Charles: No, I said it right, and you did not. That's Becoming with a capital B.

Archivist: Right… So you… Became. (a snap as Charles gives finger guns) and Edwin wanted nothing to do with you.

Charles: Yeah, pretty much. But I grow on people. Most people. Some people. (A pause) I have grown on people once or twice. Or once. Honestly, not sure I grew on Edwin so much as he gave up on getting rid of me.

Archivist: And when you say you Became-

Charles: I Became, simple as that. (A pause) Oh, look at the time! (He looks at a watch he isn't wearing) I’ve gotta get back. Michaels’ to convince not to attack you, you get it-

Archivist: Wait! Charles- Mr. Rowland, did you say Michael?

(A door slams, and the Archivist sighs, head falling down to his the table with a thud.)

Archivist: (Muffled, as though through wood) That door was not there when Charles began his statement. This is… not ideal. (A pause, when the voice resumes, it is no longer muffled) End recording.

Click.

guys i am ill this au is taking over my life, so should i post it to ao3?

#this is about dead boy detectives #dead boy detectives #edwin payne #edwin dead boy detectives #charles rowland #charles rowland dead boy detectives #tma au #dbdxtma #spiral!charles #web!edwin #jonathan sims

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lesbicosmos-writes · 15 days ago

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@deadboyween day 4!!

day 4 prompt: orbs

summary: edwin is worried about charles, who just will not sit still. he knows something is troubling him, but he just won't talk about it. eventually, he exhausts himself so much he reverts into orb form.

notes: when i made the prompt list this was the one i was determined to write something for, so when i realised it was TODAY and i hadn't written anything yet, i just kinda threw this together oops

also on ao3!!

and it feels good to be known so well

Charles Rowland rarely sat still. He always had to be somewhat dynamic, whether it be bouncing his leg up and down or fidgeting with whatever was in his hands at the time. He was fine if he was focused, like during client interviews and while on cases, but when he was just relaxing, he was never truly still.

That had been the case for as long as Edwin could remember, but Charles’s constant movement had never been quite as bad as it had been for the last few weeks. Even seeing him sitting down at all had been a rarity.

He’d been on his feet for so long that he just looked so…tired. Ghosts may not sleep, but that didn’t mean they could keep moving forever without so much as a break. Edwin had been beginning to worry. Something was bothering him, that much was clear. And the way he kept looking directly at Edwin, as though to say something, then immediately looked away as soon as the other boy made eye contact, really didn’t help Edwin’s growing anxiety.

“Charles, are you quite alright?” he asked, putting his notebook away in the drawer of his desk and giving the boy his full attention. “I know you’re usually very mobile but there is clearly something on your mind.”

“I’m good, mate. Don’t worry about me,” Charles replied simply.

Edwin knew Charles well enough to tell when what he said was just a pre-programmed response to get people to stop worrying about him, no matter what was going on in that brilliant-yet-troubled mind of his. Edwin also, however, knew Charles well enough to tell when pushing him to talk wasn’t a good idea. And it was clear that this wasn’t the time, so Edwin chose support over questioning.

“Okay, but if you do need to talk, you know I’m always here to listen. And please sit down, you look exhausted.”

“I said I’m fine, Edwin,” Charles said again, snappier. He immediately regretted his tone. “Just…”

Then, Charles seemed to wobble a little on his feet. He let out a shaky breath, even though his lungs hadn’t truly inhaled air in thirty-five years, and leaned back against the arm of the sofa as though to steady himself.

“Charles…?”

“Shit, Edwin, I think…”

Before Charles could even finish his sentence, a spot on his chest just over his unbeating heart began to glow, and within a few seconds the rest of his corporeal form had faded away, leaving only a glowing sphere in his place.

“Charles!”

Edwin rushed over to the sofa, just catching the orb before it rolled off the sofa and onto the ground. He lifted the pulsing light to face height, inspecting it as though it could actually be harmed.

“This is the second time in two weeks, Charles. Please, just talk to me, you’re exhausting yourself,” he sighed, trying to fight back tears he couldn’t quite explain.

He thought things had gotten better since Port Townsend. He thought they had agreed to talk when they had important things on their mind, no matter what. He thought they weren’t keeping the deep stuff quiet anymore.

Evidently, he was wrong. Edwin couldn’t help but think that perhaps it was his confession that had caused them to backtrack so significantly in terms of communication. Sure, Charles told him that he was fine with it, that it hadn’t changed anything between them, that they were still the most important people in the world to each other – and Edwin believed him. At first glance, it would seem that they were just as close as they had been before – closer, even. Charles seemed more inclined to initiate physical contact than ever, and always seemed to be calmest when Edwin was in the room with him. But Edwin also knew Charles had gotten very good at keeping things locked up inside himself, especially things that could potentially make him feel like a burden. If everyone would be happier without it being said, it wouldn’t be said. Edwin genuinely thought that if you were to look up people pleaser in a dictionary, all that would be written there as its definition would be Charles Rowland’s name.

So if his confession had changed things, if Charles really was worrying about it, of course he wouldn’t mention it. If it had changed things, of course he might think twice about being quite so open about his own struggles. Edwin just wished he understood just how much he loved him. Not necessarily the love that made Edwin want to kiss Charles, to touch him in a romantic sense – but the love that made him always want Charles around, the love that made Charles the most important person in Edwin’s universe, the love that he had for him no matter what, no matter whether or not he returned Edwin’s romantic feelings.

Edwin just loved Charles because of who he was, and he always had. He hoped one day the other boy might finally understand that, so he knew intrinsically that he really could talk to him about anything, and didn’t have to bottle it up so much that things like this happened so often.

Edwin returned to his desk, but didn’t pull his notebook back out just yet. He simply sat there, Charles’s most pure and natural form floating slightly in his palms.

A few hours later, Charles had still not returned back to his usual gangly, grinning form. He was still just that tiny sphere of glowing energy. He’d been rolling around on the desk for the better part of half an hour – Edwin scolded him for moving around in this state when his constant activity was what prompted it in the first place – and had now found a place to settle.

He was nestled on Edwin’s shoulder, as though peering over him to look at his notebook like he usually did in his corporeal body. Every so often he nuzzled closer to Edwin’s neck, and Edwin couldn’t help the sense of pride and comfort he felt in the knowledge that Charles felt safe with him, no matter what secrets might be causing problems in his currently non-existent head.

The quiet of the room was interrupted when the door to the office opened and Crystal walked in.

“Hey, Edwin, have you seen Charles-” she began, but cut herself off when she spotted the flickering sphere on Edwin’s shoulder. “What’s that?”

“Oh. Hello, Crystal. Uh, this is Charles,” Edwin said.

“I’m sorry, what? He’s…a blob?” Crystal looked confused as she took her coat off, laying it across the empty sofa.

“An orb,” Edwin corrected. “It happens to us sometimes when we get tired. We may not be able to sleep like the living do, but we can compress ourselves into our most natural form – pure spectral energy. Well, I say we can. Sometimes it is involuntary, like fainting. That’s what happened to Charles.”

“Okay, that’s…kind of cool actually. Like ghost hibernation.”

As Crystal walked over towards the desk, Charles seemed to vibrate, growing brighter for a couple of seconds before dimming again.

“That’s him saying hello,” Edwin clarified.

“Oh. Hey, Charles! Wait…he can hear us?”

“Yes. Well, no. Sort of. He can sense that you’re here but perhaps not understand what you’re saying. Well, if we do hear we forget it when we turn back. We don’t fully understand it, if we’re honest.”

“Right,” Crystal said, clearly understanding even less than Edwin did.

The orb moved again, this time towards the side of Edwin’s neck as he had been doing all afternoon. Edwin chuckled – it did always tickle a little when he did that.

“Charles tends to get clingy when he’s like this,” Edwin turned back to Crystal, who had sat opposite him in the chair usually reserved for clients.

Edwin from a few months ago might have told her to move, or at least given her a glaring look, but now-Edwin simply smiled at her. They’d become good friends since everything, once they’d both realised they were being a little unfair taking out their frustrations on one another.

“He told me once that it is like his way of ensuring me he is there even when he cannot exactly talk. He seems to have a proclivity for always having to be near me in some way, especially since Hell,” he continued.

“I had noticed that,” Crystal said.

“I keep trying to tell him he doesn’t have to, that I can protect myself, but he just won’t listen.”

“It does seem like protecting you makes him happy,” she commented.

“I know. And I like knowing that he is happy, of course I do. But he seems to think that if he isn’t useful to me, then I will not want him around.”

“He’s like the biggest people pleaser I’ve ever met.”

“I just wish he knew that I want him around no matter what.”

Edwin turned to look sadly at his shoulder as he spoke. Charles only nuzzled even closer.

Crystal leaned further towards him, comforting.

“I’m sure he does know that, Edwin, it’s just… it’s just who he is. I think with everything that happened when he was alive, he constantly feels like he has to prove himself to everyone because he could never seem to be good enough for anyone. His dad beat him, and even the people he thought were his friends turned on him and fucking killed him. He’s gonna have a lot of trauma from that. Even if he refuses to really talk about it.”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

“Also, if he can hear us right now, I’m sure he’ll know he can talk to us if he needs to,” Crystal said, her voice growing louder at the end as though specifically intending for Charles to hear.

Edwin appreciated how much she cared. Despite his initial jealousy and coldness towards her, it was nice having someone else who cared for Charles so deeply.

“I hope so. Especially since…” he took a deep breath. He hadn’t expected to be confiding in Crystal about this, but he was glad she came over. “Lately, he’s seemed even more distracted. Something is weighing on him – this is the second time he’s transformed in the past fortnight. I wish he would talk to me instead of keeping it inside.”

Crystal nodded slightly, her face unexpectedly relaxing a little.

“Okay, I think I know what specifically it’s been about more recently,” she said.

“Really? Did he talk to you about it?”

He tried not to be a little sad at the idea that Charles went to Crystal about it before he went to him. It was irrational, of course – he knew the two of them were close, and of course he loved Crystal – but it wasn’t helping that little voice in the back of his head that kept thinking something had changed between them since Hell, that he didn’t feel as comfortable sharing things with him anymore.

“Not exactly,” Crystal said, and Edwin’s mind eased. “I kind of figured it out and brought it up.”

“What is it? Is something wrong?”

“No, no, nothing like that, don’t worry,” Crystal reassured him, clearly noticing this was causing Edwin distress. “Look, I’m not the one who should tell you about it, so just believe me that it’s nothing bad, please.”

Edwin sighed.

“Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I promise. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.”

What could he possibly need to prepare to tell him? Edwin desperately suppressed the many anxiety-riddled questions and possibilities his tireless mind thought up.

“I’ll be here for him no matter what,” he said.

“I know,” Crystal smiled. “You always are.”

Edwin smiled back at her – the sister he never had. Crystal suddenly reached her hand up to her face and wiped a tear from her eye before it even had chance to fall.

“Alright, enough of that,” she sniffled. “I just came to say I’m not gonna be here for the next couple days. I’m meeting up with a few old friends, I wanna try and fix things. If I can.”

“Of course. I know you can, Crystal. I’m aware I don’t say things like this often, but you really are such a lovely person. I don’t know exactly what you did to these friends before everything happened, but I hope they see how much you’ve changed.”

“Thanks, Edwin. That…it means a lot.”

Both of them looked at one another for a few seconds, the small smiles still on both of their faces.

Then, all of a sudden, the orb on Edwin’s shoulder grew brighter, and brighter, and brighter.

“Woah, what’s-”

Before Crystal could ask, the light faded, and Charles’s familiar form faded back into corporeality. Since he had been perched on Edwin, he was sat on the arm of the chair practically clung to him when he opened his eyes.

“Charles! Good to have you back,” Edwin sighed, relieved.

“I need to talk to you,” Charles said, looking directly into his eyes.

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Crystal said, standing up from the chair and grabbing her coat from the sofa. “I’ll see you guys on Wednesday, yeah?”

“Goodbye, Crystal. Good luck.”

With that, Crystal left the office. Edwin swore he saw her give Charles a smile and a thumbs up as she left the room.

Edwin turned, surprised to see Charles hadn’t even moved, and was still all but pressed up against his side.

“How are you feeling?” Edwin asked, trying not to focus too hard on the proximity.

“Better. Thanks.”

“Are you sure? I’m not trying to pry, but I’m getting worried about you Charles. We said we’d talk-”

As Edwin spoke, Charles moved – but only to face him, leaning back against the desk like he did when they had clients.

“I know, mate. I’m sorry, I just…right, I’ve been trying to figure out how to talk to you about something but I didn’t know how or when or if, and I guess…that rest I just got kind of gave me time to think a bit more without there being everything else,” Charles explained.

Edwin was confused, but gave him the chance to talk.

“Right. Is there something wrong, or…?”

“No! God, no, Edwin. Shit, I’ve really stressed you out, haven’t I?”

“Yes, I rather think you have,” Edwin chuckled. “I guess I’ve just been worried that perhaps…you feel differently about our agreement to talk to each other about things since I told you what I did in Hell.”

“What? Edwin, no. Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise-”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Edwin told him, reaching out to take his hands.

Maybe that was overstepping, but Charles didn’t complain or pull away – quite the opposite: he held Edwin back.

“No, I do. You’ve been here thinking I…god, I’m sorry. I swear, what you told me in Hell is…well actually I guess it kind of is why I’ve been acting all weird, but it’s not what you’re thinking, I promise.”

“Then what?”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it, right? Ever since you told me what you did. I wanted to properly think on it because I love you so much and, like, I know we’d be us no matter what, but I just couldn’t just let this go, could I?”

Edwin opened his mouth to say something, but Charles cut him off.

“I know what you’re gonna say. You’re thinking I’m doing what I always do and just telling you what you wanna hear, but I’m not. I needed to think about this for me as well as for you.”

“And…?” Edwin prompted, trying not to sound as hopeful as he was steadily growing to be.

“Well, I was just driving myself insane, wasn’t I? I had no idea how to put this shit into words or figure out what it means. But then Crystal brought it up, and you know what she’s like – she’s direct about shit. And it really helped. She kinda put everything about this into perspective. ‘Cause, like, I was trying to find someone to compare my feelings to, to figure out if I felt the same, but, like, I’ve never been in love. I don’t know what that feels like. Sure I had a couple of girlfriends when I was alive but that was just typical teen romance, doing it just because it was expected of you and because it felt good. It was never proper love. All I knew was that you weren’t like anyone I’ve ever known. And Crystal helped me realise that maybe…”

Charles held Edwin’s hand tighter.

Edwin tried not to breathe too heavily, looking up at Charles with such hope and love and relief in his eyes.

“Maybe I’ve been in love with you since the start. I knew you were different, but we just clicked so well I didn’t even realise what that difference was, that it was deeper. You’re my best friend above everything else, but there’s definitely something else too. I just needed a little help to see it.”

“Charles, what are you saying?” Edwin asked.

He knew what he was saying. Of course he did. But he couldn’t quite believe it, so he asked anyway.

Charles reached his other hand out and tipped Edwin’s head up slightly by his chin, ensuring they were making eye contact.

“I’m in love with you. Always have been.”

Edwin couldn’t help the soft surprised noise that escaped his throat.

“Charles…why were you getting so stressed about this? You know you could have told me before it got to this point.”

“I know, it’s just…I think it took a while for me to realise I could have this. Like, obviously I knew you felt the same, but…I didn’t feel worthy? Almost. I don’t know. I never- I never really knew what proper romantic love was. My parents, maybe they were in love once, before I came along, but I don’t remember it. The only long-term romantic relationship I really knew was one full of fear and like, tension. And abuse. I guess I just worried I might not know how to do this, so maybe you wouldn’t want to. I dunno, it’s stupid.”

“No. It’s not stupid, Charles.”

Edwin held Charles’s hands under his own chin.

“Well, the idea that you aren’t worthy of my love is preposterous, but I understand why you might have felt like that. I know your family weren’t the image of love you wanted to see growing up. I can’t exactly say my own were either. But I promise you; your love, in all its forms, is beautiful. You might not think you know how to do this, but you’re doing it brilliantly. Even if you didn’t feel the same romantic inclinations I do, you are enough. You’re so, so much more than enough.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Charles couldn’t hold back any longer – he surged forwards, wrapping his arms around Edwin. It was awkward, with Edwin still sitting in the chair, so Edwin stood up. The two of them pressed up against each other, holding the other close as though they could disappear at any second.

Edwin only held him closer when he heard a quiet sniffle come from Charles.

“I love you,” he mumbled into Edwin’s shoulder, and Edwin swore a rush of warmth flooded his cold dead heart.

“I love you too,” Edwin replied. “More than anything.”

When they broke apart, they simply looked at each other for a moment, soft smiles on their faces.

“Can I kiss you?” Charles asked, and Edwin didn’t think he’d ever heard him sound so quiet, his mind so still.

“Of course you can.”

Edwin had been dreaming about this moment for a while, no matter how hard he tried not to. Every so often, his thoughts would wander to what Charles’s lips would feel like against his own, whether their kisses would be hungry and passionate or soft and gentle – or a little of both.

He always imagined, in the rare instances that he allowed himself to ponder the potentiality of Charles one day feeling the same way, that their first kiss would be quick, in the heat of the moment. Charles had always been an impulsive person, so he imagined this would be no different. Perhaps they’d be out on a case and Charles would pull him aside, crush their lips together and whisper a hurried ‘talk later?’ before getting back to the task at hand.

Edwin had never been happier to be wrong. Obviously, he wouldn’t have predicted or asked for the circumstances that led up to this, for Charles’s emotional conflict and physical and emotional exhaustion, but this moment, their lips meeting softly in the early evening light that poured in through the office window, was perfect.

When their mouths separated, Edwin kept his eyes closed for a few seconds, just revelling in the moment. Then, he opened them and oh he was glad he did – Charles looked incandescently beautiful standing before him, his lips slightly parted, his eyes huge and focused on him.

They both moved together for a second kiss, resting their foreheads against each other when their lips broke apart, as though being even centimetres apart from one another was a curse.

“I’m sorry, about the stress, and about the…orb-ing thing,” Charles said quietly, and Edwin swore he could feel breath against his own lips. That wasn’t possible, though. Ghosts didn’t breathe.

“Charles, it’s alright. I’m just glad you’re not suffering without telling me. Besides, we finally had an opportunity to explain our exhaustion symptoms to Crystal. You gave her a very confused fright when she first walked in and saw you.”

“Oh, I bet.”

Both of them laughed, heads falling onto each other’s shoulder.

When they separated, Edwin took a step back. But Charles kept his hand where it was on Edwin’s waist.

“Can we…go to the sofa? I don’t…wanna let go just yet.”

Edwin just smiled, smitten.

“Of course, Charles.”

The two of them settled together on the sofa – it was a little bigger than their old one, but still too small to fit two nearly six feet tall teenage ghosts if they wanted any semblance of space between them. Luckily, these two ghosts specifically weren’t bothered about space.

Charles positioned himself practically on top of Edwin, curled up on his chest, quiet and still. Edwin’s arms wrapped around Charles’s waist, keeping him close. He’d never really known quite how much he wanted this – how much he craved this – just being this close to the boy he loved most, touching in any way they could. Charles shuffled impossibly closer, nuzzling his face into Edwin’s neck in the same way he had earlier while in his orb form. The only difference was this time, Charles left gentle kisses there too. This time, he could definitely feel the warmth of Charles pressed against him. This time, there was no stress, no anxiety, no panicking. This time, the two of them were all that mattered.

They held each other tightly. Two spirits, at their core just bundles of pure energy, transforming that energy into love for the other.

#actually loved writing this one #i always love writing these characters #i did also tear up writing this one soooo #deadboyween #deadboyween 2024 #dead boy detectives #dbda #edwin payne #charles rowland #payneland #orbwin and chorb

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seiya-starsniper · 6 months ago

Text

Rating: Teen || Chapters: 2/5 || Word Count 3.5k/??

Summary: The Dead Boy Detectives run into a familiar pub while out on a case, and Crystal has to contend with an unfortunate event from her past.

AO3 Tags: POV Multiple, Hob Gadling gives live advice to a bunch of teenagers, while helping them solve cases, that's it that's the fic, also he maybe plays matchmaker for his hot mess bestie

Chapter 1

Read Chapter 2 below, or using the link above on AO3!

--------------

Hob Gadling considers himself to be a rather open minded man. He's lived hundreds of years, and seen thousands of strange and unusual things in that same amount of time, so the chances of something catching him completely off guard are rather slim in the year 2024.

The last few days, however, have proven that there are still many, many things that can surprise him.

One of those things being one Charles Rowland, who is currently waving at Hob from the entryway of the New Inn.

Hob normally doesn't like to get involved in anything having to do with the supernatural, and especially not anything related to the type of work that Edwin and Charles do. He'd met them purely by chance after some asshole with delusions of grandeur had tried to frame him for a series of murders. He’d sent Edwin and Charles on a wild goose chase in a poor attempt to cover his own tracks.

Hob thought that once they caught the real murderer together and cleared things up, that would be the end of things. But then, Hob kept getting involved in their cases over the years, all of them entirely on accident. Eventually, somewhere between the fourth and fifth poltergeist, Hob decided he might as well figure out how to defend himself against supernatural entities, and maybe make himself useful for these poor boys too. They certainly needed all the help they could get.

Hob had been glad to hear that Edwin and Charles had recently gotten some sort of amnesty in exchange for continuing to help ghosts and other souls move on. It was good work, what these boys did. Hob has seen ghosts that haunted the same places for centuries finally be to pass on into the afterlife thanks to them. And now, they not only had permission to keep going, but had gotten more help to do it too.

The addition of Crystal to their little crew had been a surprise, and Jenny an even bigger surprise, though the latter seems less interested in solving cases, and more in making sure Crystal doesn't get herself killed in the process.

Still, Hob's only ever seen the teens all together in some sort of group, never alone, and he's definitely never seen Charles without Edwin. From the moment Hob had first met the two ghost boys, they’d always been a singular unit in his mind. And yet here Charles was, alone and looking strangely expectant while trying to appear casual as he waits for Hob to close out the tabs on the last remaining lunch hour patrons.

“Everything all right?” Hob asks when Charles approaches him once his last customer leaves.

“Of course!” Charles answers, his signature smile bright on display. “I was just in the neighborhood and wanted to say hello. And to thank you again for the assist the other day.”

As a ghost, Charles is technically always in the neighborhood, so Hob knows that that’s not all that there is to his visit. It also hasn't escaped Hob's notice that Charles specifically picked the one day Jenny wasn't working the kitchen this week to drop by the pub. He clearly doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s here.

But Hob knows by now how to deal with skittish teenagers. Even dead ones.

“Well I'm almost done here and then I'm gonna head upstairs for a cuppa,” Hob says. Mark’s going to be here soon to relieve me of duty. Happy to have some company if you have the time to spare for an old man.”

“Oh! Yeah sure, I'm not busy,” Charles says, and cute that he’s still trying to pretend that he hadn’t come here with a purpose, when his eagerness is so clearly written all over his face. “Don't need any food though, as you know.”

“Sure, sure,” Hob replies, waving his hand dismissively so Charles can head upstairs ahead of him. He's going to make a cup of tea for Charles anyways. The boy always seemed to love the steam that came out of the mugs, even though he’d never admit it out loud.

Mark comes in exactly at 2:00pm, and Hob chats with him for a few minutes, before he clocks out and heads upstairs to his flat above the pub. Charles is already waiting for him in the living room, and Hob immediately sets to the task of warming up some hot water in the kettle and grabbing some mugs for tea.

“So how are things at the agency?” Hob asks as he waits for the water to heat. “Busy as ever, or more so now that you’ve got yourselves a psychic?”

“Definitely busier,” Charles says. “Crystal’s been a massive help with our cases, we're solving them even faster than before.”

“Good,” Hob replies, just as the kettle clicks, letting him know the water is done. “I’m glad she’s using her powers for good nowadays,” he adds as he brings the two mugs over to the couch. Charles looks surprised by the extra mug, but accepts it without a word. Hob doesn’t expect him to drink any of the tea, of course, but as predicted, Charles seems to fall into a trance watching the steam rise out of the cup.

“Thanks for not giving her too much of a hard time,” Charles says when Hob sits down in the recliner across from him. “She’s been really down on herself lately for everything in her past.”

“I can only imagine,” Hob agrees. He knew a thing or two about wanting to reinvent oneself and burning away the past. He’s had hundreds of years to do so after all. In fact, it could even be argued that Crystal was far ahead of where Hob would’ve been had he been in her shoes. The girl he’d met a few nights ago was so different from the one he’d met a year ago in court that Hob would’ve thought she had a twin instead.

“Seems like you two get along well,” Hob notes after a brief silence has passed. Charles perks up immediately, taking the opening in the conversation.

“We do,” Charles replies, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “She’s amazing.”

“Yeah? So are the two of you a thing then?” Hob asks, and would you look at that, turns out ghosts can blush after all.

“I—maybe?” Charles says, his voice pitched higher with uncertainty. “I don’t know, actually. I mean, it's, well…complicated I guess?”

“How so?” Hob asks. He’d suspected there had been something going on between them, it was obvious in their body language, and how they gently teased one another throughout the night after the banshee had gone. Now Charles is talking like a man newly in love and completely besotted.

“Is she giving you mixed signals?” Hob follows up when Charles doesn't answer.

“No!” Charles exclaims, shaking his head. “It’s me really, I’m—I don’t know.” He sighs in frustration and runs a hand through his hair. “I thought for a while that’s what I wanted and then Edwin—” he suddenly cuts himself off, a small amount of panic now crossing his features.

Ah. Now the reason for Charles' visit suddenly makes itself clear. Crystal clear even, but Hob keeps that terrible pun to himself.

“So Edwin finally told you how he felt about you?” Hob asks, deciding to rip the bandage off now and quell the strange awkwardness in the room. Charles’ head whips up so fast Hob feels his own neck start to cramp up in sympathy.

“You knew ?” Charles asks. “But Edwin said he’d only figured it out when we were in Port Townsend!”

Hob shrugs. “Sometimes, things are easier to spot when you’re not in the middle of them,” he replies. “But it was pretty clear that, at the very least, Edwin considered you the most important person to him. It's not surprising he fell in love with you too.”

“You really think so?” Charles asks. “Because I don't—I’d never really thought about it before, you know? He's my most important person too, but I never thought that we would be more than that. But now that he's said it, I can't stop thinking about it.”

“Yeah?” Hob asks. “Does it bother you that he feels that way?” A shake of the head. Good. “Do you ever think you could return those feelings?”

“I don’t know, and that’s the problem!” Charles cries, his voice pitching near to a whine. He stands and paces around Hob’s living room, and Hob has to try not to laugh into his tea. Teenage problems were always the same, whether a live or dead.

“To be honest, I’m still really into Crystal,” Charles starts, “...but then after everything with Edwin, and what happened to Niko, I started thinking, well, how long will that really last? Crystal’s alive, I’m not. She’s going to—she won’t—she’ll eventually—”

“Grow up?” Hob offers when the teen can’t find the right words. “Grow old, hopefully? Live a fulfilling life with someone else that’s flesh and blood?”

“I—yeah. Ideally yes,” Charles replies, though it's clear the thought bothers him by the way he scrunches his features. “But also, what if us being together puts her in too much danger? What if she—if what happened to Niko happens to her, I couldn't bear it, Mr. Gadling.”

“Hob,” Hob corrects the boy gently. “I've told you before that you don't need to call me Mister anything, makes me feel way older than I already feel,” he adds with a laugh. Charles gives him a half smile and just shrugs helplessly. Some habits were impossible to break, it seemed.

“And those are perfectly reasonable fears to have,” Hob continues. “Crystal is her own person though, and you need to take into account that she might find the risk worth it. And to be honest, I feel like the risk to her life is the same, whether you two are romantically involved or not.”

“Yeah, I suppose you're right,” Charles agrees, flopping back down onto Hob’s couch and staring back into the still steaming mug of tea. “So do you think we should give it a go, then?”

Hob shrugs. “I think you two like each other,” he replies, “but whether you think a relationship is worth it is up to you. Does Edwin know about you two?”

“He knows—some stuff yeah,” Charles replies sheepishly. “I had told him I liked her way before he, you know, confessed to me and all. And like, even afterwards, it seems like he’s fine, but I really don’t know if it’s all actually fine, or if he’s just trying to act like he’s fine just because I look fine but he’s not really fine and what if I’ve mucked everything up or—”

“Hey, slow down, Charles,” Hob interjects, and the boy’s mouth clicks shut immediately. “From what I can see, nothing has changed between you, so I wouldn't worry about it,” he adds, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. “Besides, you and Edwin have been together this long now, you've got more than enough time to sort things out, one way or the other.”

“Yeah,” Charles agrees, his voice now wistfully soft and clearly full of affection. “When we were in Hell, I said that to him,you know. That we have eternity to figure it all out.”

“Did you now?” Hob asks, now smiling himself. “Sounds like you two are on the same page then, as per usual. Now you just need to make a decision yourself and Crystal.”

“Yeah…yeah you're right,” Charles says, seeming to come to a decision. His back straightens and he sits up, his signature smile back on his face. “Edwin and I may have forever, but Crystal doesn't and it's rude to keep a lady waiting right?”

“Absolutely," Hob replies.

Charles leaves shortly after, promising not to overthink everything and let his feelings come naturally to him. Hob is fairly certain he knows where things will land eventually, and he's sure Charles does too. It doesn't make the journey to get there any less worthwhile.

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detectives fanfic #the sandman #payneland #dreamling #charles rowland #edwin payne #crystal palace #hob gadling #seiya writes #seiya writes dbda #chapter 2 let's go friends whooooo

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