#the first few have been sitting in my ao3 drafts for like two weeks 😭

[lesbicosmos]

day 1 of @painlandweek !!

day 1 prompt: language of love / sickfic

summary: charles gets hit by a witch's spell that was originally intended for edwin. edwin takes care of him in the aftermath.

notes: title from unknown/nth by hozier <33

also on ao3!!

i could break beneath the weight of the goodness, love, i still carry for you

Ghosts couldn’t get ill – at least, not in the traditional sense. They had no immune system to be affected, so they never had anything to worry about in terms of typical human diseases. It was possible, however, for a ghost’s physical form to be altered by supernatural intervention: curses, enchantments, hexes, and the like; and the side effects of these could resemble what a ghost would recognise as sickness or injury.

Running a detective agency for troubled ghosts meant Charles and Edwin had dealt with their fair share of paranormal maladies. Luckily for them, Edwin’s extensive collection of medical tomes and the many spells he had learned over the years were usually just the thing they required to help the soul in need. It was usually a client; it was very rare that the soul in need was either of the two of them – and it never happened on any of their ‘typical’ cases.

Their current case was not a typical one.

They had thought they were done with witches after the pandemonium with Esther Finch back in Port Townsend, but they could not have been more wrong. They were currently fighting another one, who was ironically also trying to trap ghosts – not to hook them up to her spectral energy super-battery, but to use them as test subjects for the potions and spells she invented. They were ‘free guinea pigs’, she had claimed. ‘An abundant supply.’ Of course, the Dead Boy Detectives Agency couldn’t have that. When they had a young woman who had died sometime in the 1960s come by the office to tell them about her 18th century girlfriend who had been kidnapped, they immediately took the case.

So, several days of researching and keeping watch on the witch later, the four detectives had arrived at her house, prepared for anything. They had distracted her for long enough for Charles to sneak down into her cellar and rescue the ghosts trapped down there in iron cages, including their client’s partner. Now all they had to do was get rid of this witch once and for all, or at least come to an agreement. They didn’t enjoy having to take drastic measures against those who wronged their clients, but sometimes they were necessary.

The four of them were outside in the garden facing the witch, who didn’t look alarmed in the slightest. She wasn’t amused, though. She hadn’t got that manic grin on her face that Esther had when she was torturing souls. No, this witch clearly just wanted the four of them out of her way. And evidently she was more than willing to use force. As Crystal gripped her arm, slipping into her mind, Edwin prepared a spell. He was focusing intently, desperately trying to ensure it was ready for when Crystal let the witch go. Unfortunately for him, the witch also had psychic abilities, and was much more efficient at fighting back against Crystal than they had anticipated. She broke free of her grasp, Crystal falling backwards into Niko, and the witch turned to Edwin.

He was still crouched on the floor, swirling a blue liquid in a vial and muttering something in Latin, and hadn’t had the chance to move or attack before the witch made her move, muttering something in an ancient tongue and throwing her hand forwards in front of her.

Edwin shut his eyes tightly out of instinct, preparing for whatever this witch had cooked up for him in her mind.

“Edwin!” he heard Charles scream.

He heard footsteps quickly approaching, presumably the witch drawing closer to increase the strength of her attack. A green light shot forwards, so bright Edwin could almost see it through his eyelids. A strangled gasp echoed around the walls of the garden as ghostly body collided with concrete patio.

Edwin’s eyes burst open at the gasp that was most pointedly not his own.

Directly in front of him, Charles lay on the ground unmoving, his cricket bat thrown aside. A green glow gently faded from his chest, where the spell had clearly hit him square-on.

“Charles!” Crystal shouted, moving to run to him, then retreating when the witch turned instead to her, her hand still pulsing with the magical light.

The witch simply laughed. Edwin fell to his knees beside Charles, who still hadn’t moved a muscle since he collapsed.

“Charles!” Edwin gasped, out of breath and panicked. “Charles, can you hear me?”

Edwin gently shook Charles’s shoulders, and his eyes slowly opened, looking up. Then, his eyes moved downward, and Edwin followed his line of sight until he reached his hand, where Charles was weakly giving a thumbs up.

Fundamentally, Charles was fine. He couldn’t feel any pain, aside from the dull ache of where the spell had hit him directly. It wasn’t that he couldn’t move, only that it suddenly felt as though he weighed several dozen times more than he did before. Even lifting his hand to signal to Edwin had made him feel as though he was trying to deadlift an elephant. It was strange, feeling this sensation of exhaustion, something he had not physically felt in so long. He’d felt it mentally, emotionally; there had been many times he’d gone to sleep – or, at least, the closest a ghost could get to a state of rest – but he’d never felt the tiredness so viscerally, never ached all over just to move.

“Can you talk?”

He tried. It didn’t work. Not only was it too much to open his mouth, but he came to realise he couldn’t even breathe. When he tried, it was even worse than lifting his hand, this time as though he had the weight of a building sitting on top of his chest. It wasn’t that he needed to breathe. He hadn’t actually absorbed oxygen into his lungs since that cold night in the attic, but it was their strange ghostly equivalent to breathing that allowed him to speak, and right now he couldn’t.

Charles’s head moved ever so slightly from side to side. That was just manageable.

“Not full paralysis, okay…” Edwin muttered under his breath, looking Charles up and down. “You’re going to be okay,” he said, this time looking him in the eyes.

Edwin didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t leave Charles in this state, but there was still a ghost-napping witch to deal with. But if he didn’t know the specifics of the spell Charles was hit with, he couldn’t know what the full effects would be. He could be off trying to deal with the witch while Charles ‘s spectral form faded away for all he knew, unnoticed in the silence. He began to panic. He needed books, but all the volumes he could think of that would help were back at the office. He looked up to Crystal and Niko, who were still facing the witch.

All of a sudden she dashed off, through a gap in the hedges at the edge of the garden.

“Get him back to the office,” Crystal told Edwin. “We’ll deal with her.”

“Are you sure?”

“We’ve got this, you go and help him!"

Edwin hurled the vial he had finished concocting to Niko, who caught it in one hand.

“Throw that at her. Make sure it smashes, and make sure you do it on the property. It should trap her here for now, we’ll figure out what to do with her another time.”

The girls nodded, turning and following the path the witch took out of the garden and out of sight. Edwin turned back to Charles.

“I’m going to lift you up now,” he said.

Charles didn’t do anything to argue – not that he physically could – so Edwin got his footing before sliding one arm under Charles’s shoulders and the other under his knees, lifting him up.

Something in Charles’s mind had expected that Edwin wouldn’t be able to lift him. He was far too heavy, too weighed down; Edwin was strong, but he wasn’t that strong. He had been wrong, of course. The spell hadn’t actually turned Charles to lead; it only felt like it had. His limbs fell straight downwards as Edwin carried him through the witch’s house to the huge mirror on the wall in the entranceway.

He stepped through it, and they were in their office within a second. Edwin hurriedly but gently lowered Charles down onto the small sofa.

Charles really didn’t like that he couldn’t breathe. He knew he didn’t need to, knew he hadn’t really breathed in years, but that didn’t stop the habit. He was panicking, and that only made him feel the need more. Soon, he was gasping, desperately trying to inhale but being unable to as his chest wouldn’t rise an inch.

Edwin had been carefully arranging his limbs on the sofa, desperate to make him as comfortable as possible. That helped calm him down, but it didn’t stop the attempts. He had to breathe. He needed to breathe. Not being able to reminded him of being under that lake, hiding beneath the surface for as long as he physically could to shield himself from the oncoming attacks from the boys he had once considered his closest friends. He so desperately wanted to reach out, to grab onto Edwin’s arm, but the most he could do was wriggle his fingers around.

Clearly noticing his distress, Edwin grabbed his hand and squeezed.

“Charles, you don’t need to breathe my dear. You’re okay. Just try and relax, I know it’s uncomfortable.”

Edwin’s voice grounded Charles, and he closed his eyes, focusing on the sound and the feeling of Edwin’s hand in his. He wished he could squeeze back, thank him for being there as always.

“Are you alright?” he asked once Charles was no longer trying to gasp for air.

Charles barely managed a nod. Edwin placed a gentle kiss on the top of his head before standing up, letting go of Charles’s hand and pacing over to his shelves. He thought for a moment before reaching out and grabbing a book, an old one with yellowing pages and a dark purple cover. He flicked through, his eyes darting back and forth across the pages until he found what he was looking for.

“I think it was a paralysis hex gone somewhat wrong,” he explained, moving back over to Charles and sitting on the sofa beside him, the book open on his lap. “It’s a specific type of witchcraft, a spell which the caster has to specifically cater it to the intended victim. Since she forged the spell for me, it’s having a milder effect on you.”

This is mild? Charles thought. He would have groaned in annoyance if he physically could.

“It should wear off on its own, but I’m afraid it’s going to be several hours.”

Charles closed his eyes once more, rolling them as he did so. Edwin turned to place the book on the arm of the sofa, giving him another free hand to comfort Charles with. He placed it gently on his chest.

“Can I do anything to help?” he asked.

Charles’s hand twitched next to Edwin’s thigh, moving ever so slowly towards him. Edwin looked at Charles’s eyes, and could tell by the soft pleading look he found there what he was reaching for. Edwin took his gloves off, reaching out to take Charles’s hand back into his own. He knew he would need the direct contact, the softness of skin-on-skin, the only true feeling he could have in his afterlife. Edwin gently stroked circles on the back of his hand in the repeating pattern he knew always calmed him down.

Edwin hated seeing Charles like this. He was always so energetic, constantly moving around wherever he was, barely ever stopping to relax. It felt wrong seeing him stuck so still, unable to move and unable to talk. It should have been me on the other end of that spell, Edwin thought. Charles’s endearing yet frustrating need to protect him had ended in suffering for him once again.

He was shaken out of his thoughts when he felt Charles squeeze his hand, just weakly. He turned to look at him at once, worried.

“What’s wrong?”

Charles managed to shake his head. Nothing was wrong, he was just trying to tell Edwin something. Holding his hand was perfect, just what he needed to ground him and ensure him he was still there, this ailment was temporary. But there was one other thing that would help even more; one thing that had helped Charles calm down and relax so many times since they had met, even if it had taken quite a few years for him to ask for it. He moved his eyes back and forth, hoping Edwin would notice, looking at him and then at the desk behind him, over and over until Edwin got the message.

Edwin turned his head to the desk. The only things on it were a stack of books, the ones Edwin was currently part-way through reading.

“The books?”

Charles nodded. Moving his head and face was becoming more bearable by now, so he managed to open his mouth just slightly - even though he still couldn’t talk, he managed to mouth something, and Edwing could easily make out what he was saying.

“Read to me,” he said soundlessly.

“Of course,” Edwin smiled.

It was strange, how much Edwin reading to him comforted Charles. It wasn’t even the book itself, not usually. What really meant so much to him was simply hearing Edwin’s voice, so gentle and only for him. He’d always thought he shouldn’t like it. It should remind him of the night he died, the night his life slipped away from him as this strange ghost boy read his favourite detective comic aloud. And it did remind him of that night, but that night wasn’t a bad memory for Charles, not really. The hours before the attic, the months of abuse from his father that led up to it…they were the bad memories, the ones Charles wishes he could forget. But the trauma of his death itself had been diminished by the presence of that kind boy, the boy who had become Charles’s everything. So yes, Edwin reading to him did remind him of his death, but it reminded him of the kindness of a stranger, of just why he had chosen this boy over heaven itself in the first place, of why he loved him. Edwin’s voice made him feel at home, more than the house he grew up in ever did.

Edwin stood up to pick up the book from the desk, but as he turned around he found Charles seemingly trying to shuffle around on the sofa.

“Charles, what are you doing?” he asked worriedly. “You’ll exhaust yourself.”

Charles’s eyes flicked to the space on the sofa beside him, his deep brown eyes looking into Edwin’s, asking a question.

“Ah,” Edwin realised. “Let me help.”

He placed the book on the floor in front of the sofa, kneeling down.

“Are you alright with me moving you?”

Charles nodded. Edwin repeated the movements he’d done at the witch’s house before: one arm under Charles’s knees; the other under his shoulders, and he lifted him just enough to move him further towards the back of the sofa, leaving space for Edwin to climb next to him.

That was just what Edwin did, sitting beside him and manoeuvring them so that Charles’s head rested on his chest, the way he would have been if he could have moved himself. His movement did seem to be improving gradually, and he shifted his own legs to tangle with Edwin’s. Edwin supposed it was because his legs were furthest from his chest, so didn’t suffer the effects of the hex as drastically.

Edwin intertwined his fingers with Charles’s, picking up the book with the other hand. He pressed another gentle kiss to the top of his head before beginning to read.

In addition to not suffering from normal illnesses, another thing ghosts didn’t do was sleep. Similar to the supernatural intervention however, they had their own complicated equivalent to restore their energy when required.

Neither of the two of them required it, though. And ghosts didn’t get sore throats from reading aloud for too long either, so Edwin read Charles the entire book. By the time they finished, the sun had already half-risen, a pinkish orange glow illuminating the office.

“How are you doing?” Edwin asked, after the first few minutes of silence in several hours.

“Brills,” Charles replied, his voice back, and as confident as always.

He snuggled impossibly closer to Edwin, burying his face in his chest.

“Wait,” Edwin said, pausing the gentle strokes of his hand up and down Charles’s arm. “When did the hex wear off?”

“About an hour ago,” Charles admitted, his voice slightly muffled against Edwin.

“Why did you not say something?” Edwin chuckled. “Or start breathing again?”

“Didn’t wanna interrupt you. I like your voice.”

Charles lifted his head slightly, rolling further onto his front to look up at Edwin, smiling.

Edwin laughed softly, smiling back.

“Thank you,” Charles said. “For doing that.”

“Of course, Charles,” Edwin held him somehow even closer. “You know I am always here for whatever you need.”

“I’m always here for you too,” Charles assured.

“Yes, well…it was very reckless of you to jump in front of that hex for me.”

“What was I supposed to do? You said it yourself, it had a weakened effect on me. It would’ve been worse on you.”

“Well, yes I suppose, but my point still stands.”

“Sorry love but there’s nothing you can do to stop me. I’ll always jump in front of witches’ curses for you,” Charles kissed the tip of Edwin’s nose softly.

Edwin sighed. He knew there was no arguing with Charles, ever-protective as he was.

“Well, did you enjoy the book?” he asked, changing the subject before he thought too much about the extent of Charles’s devotion to him and started to feel like crying over how much he loved the charming impulsive boy he got to call his boyfriend.

“Oh. Uhh…” Charles trailed off.

“Did you pay attention to the plot at all?” Edwin laughed.

“Your voice is very relaxing.”

Charles didn’t know how else to answer. It was the truth – what was being read wasn’t important, only that it was Edwin reading it. Edwin shook his head slightly, the smile never leaving his face.

“I suppose I’ll just have to read it to you again, then,” Edwin faked disappointment.

“Oh no,” said Charles, dramatically leaning backwards to put his hand over his heart in faux shock before leaning in to kiss Edwin.

Just as their lips brushed, the front door to the office burst open. Both of them sat up on the sofa to see Crystal and Niko running in.

“Oh, thank god you’re okay,” Crystal sighed, rushing forward to hug him.

Charles hugged back with his free arm, the other still wrapped around Edwin’s waist, and Crystal squeezed next to them on the sofa. Niko knelt on the floor in front of them.

“’Course I am,” he said proudly. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, and I had Edwin to look after me.”

Charles turned to face Edwin, his signature smile plastered across his face. Edwin could only grin back.

“The hex faded on its own, Charles,” he said. “I did nothing.”

“You read to me! That helped.”

“Aww,” Niko smiled.

“How did you two get on last night then?” Charles asked the girls.

“We were done in like an hour,” Niko explained.

“Yeah, that potion you made worked its magic and she couldn’t leave.”

“I’m glad.”

“We went back to Crystal’s after. We figured Charles would want some time to get better before we came barging in here.”

“Thanks Niko,” said Charles.

“We’re just glad you’re alright,” Crystal squeezed his arm.

“I’m aces, don’t worry.”

Charles leaned his head on Edwin’s shoulder, holding both him and Crystal close. The case wasn’t fully closed yet – they still had a witch trapped in her own house with all her equipment she could easily use to figure out a way to escape to deal with – but for now…yeah, for now they were aces.