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Charles was pretty sure that if he could see his reflection, his neck would be in a sorry state. Iron tended to have that effect.
He was really starting to wish he had Edwin’s pain tolerance. Well, Edwin’s tolerance was broken because of Hell, and Charles didn’t really fancy another spin down there, but he did wish he could do more than grimace and whimper while he fought against a stupid witch’s ghost-proof collar.
If the roles were reversed, Edwin would’ve probably gotten both of them out.
But reality was reality, even if reality was shit, and Charles was losing more and more of his neck every time he tried to reach for a bag that was just out of reach. Behind him, Monty was squawking. It sounded argumentative, so he argued back. Sue him.
‘Fat lot of use you turned out to be.’ He said bitterly. ‘You tricked my best mate. Set us up. When I get out of this thing, crow, you’re gonna find you backed the wrong side.’
And he meant it. Right that second, he would’ve happily fed Monty to the big snake.
The snake he was meant to be killing, somehow, but not if he was stuck to this countertop for whatever was left of his miserable existence.
Monty made a strangled ‘caw’ sound, and hopped out of his cage. To Charles’ absolute bloody astonishment, he scurried over to his bad and started nudging it towards the floor. Was he helping? Or trying to, anyway. He was struggling, what with the lack of thumbs, and settled on headbutting it as hard as he could in the right direction.
‘Squork.’ Monty said, sounding pleased with himself.
Maybe he had a right to be, ‘cuz Charles could feel himself smiling for the first time in hours as he rummaged through his little pocket dimension.
‘Now that’s what I’m talking about. Redemption arc, eh?’
Monty had his beady little eye on him, so he seemed to still understand English. Even if he didn’t, well, his dad used to say Charles would talk to a brick wall if left to his own devices, so maybe talking to a crow wasn’t the weirdest thing he’d done in his life.
‘Good lad,’ He continued. ‘Now, let’s find my lockpick kit-’
A second later, it was in his hand. A second after that, he was free and unlocking the snake cabinet.
He was still a lot more tangible than he would’ve liked, which meant he got a big whiff of damp air and sour reptile. He paused, then shook himself. Sod it. He didn’t have time to hang about feeling all weak in the knee- Edwin had done it once, before. Granted, he hadn’t known about the snake at the time, but still. If his mate did it, so could he. He threw down the rope, and shimmied down.
There was a bit of pent-up anger he needed to get out, anyway.
-
Despite Edwin’s journal notes and very vivid descriptions, it still didn’t prepare him for what it was like down there.
The air was muggy, he felt heavier for reasons that had nothing to do with the iron, and- fucking Hell- the stuff all over the place… It was all kids’ stuff. A pram, playing cards, a trike, shoes, a hula-hoop, broken toys-
Whatever the poor sods had on them when Esther swooped in.
Even if he hadn’t been on a personal mission to save his best mate, he still would’ve needed to deal with that. Port Townsend had been dealing with a witch problem for who-even-knew how long, and all the hair baubles and footballs on the ground were a tally chart of every kid she’d killed.
There were piles of it.
A mix of fury and fear filled his chest. He’d ditched his bulkier coat and gotten his cricket bat out, but he still felt about as useful as a pipecleaner. The bloody snake was hissing, and it’s weird little den was so echoey that he couldn’t even tell what direction it was coming from.
Seriously, was Esther Finch determined to be a pain in the arse every single day of her life and why did that apply even to her snake?
Charles scanned the space, then felt something shift behind him.
He spun around, and swung his bat as hard as he could at the oversized noodle of death. The wood splintered into little bits on impact. Bollocks.
That wasn’t just any old cricket bat. For starters, he was quite fond of it, and secondly, Edwin had been kind enough to stick a couple charms on it over the years. That meant that it had hit some seriously nasty targets over the years without getting so much as a dent in the polished wood.
And now it was just a jagged lolly stick.
The snake knocked him backwards with the force of a lorry- it didn’t even seem to be trying to eat him, maybe it just liked the chase or maybe it thought ghosts had a bad aftertaste- and Charles wheezed for a second before scrambling onto his knees.
He could feel his neck burning. He still had iron in his system, then, which meant he couldn’t even try the old ‘turn intangible and hope for the best’ manoeuvre.
The bat had been a disaster. It was time for a little upgrade.
‘I know I left one in here somewhere-’ Charles muttered to himself, hoping to whoever that the snake would rather slither around menacingly than try to slam him again.
Bingo. He pulled a sword out of his bag like a scrawny King Arthur.
‘Now that is mint.’
If he remembered correctly, it was The Case Of The Moaning Maharajah. A ghost was kind enough to give them a really old, really nice sword so ‘Those bloody Brits can’t stick one more thing in a museum. No offence.’
None taken. Especially since Charles was half Indian himself, and Edwin wasn’t half as stuffy as he looked.
Oh, and they got a sword.
Sword versus snake. Easy peasy.
-
It turned out that even with a giant knife, one lanky teenager against a reptile the size of a train was always gonna be an unfair fight.
The stupid thing was having the time of it’s life throwing him around. Oh, and when it slammed him and Charles landed on a kid’s skull, he nearly screamed in an octave he didn’t know he could reach. He could only hope that the girls were doing a number on Esther, because the snake was doing a number on him. Then again, karma had done a pretty good job avoiding Esther Finch.
Once again, Charles had to crawl towards his sword, and once again, he could feel every bruise that was painting his body.
‘Magic snake, magic wounds.’ He grumbled. ‘Brills.’
At least it wasn’t poisonous. Venomous? If Edwin were there, he’d probably chew him out over that distinction. Biting it and dying equalled poisonous, it biting and you dying equalled venomous. Bloody English language. It had words for different ways for nasty shit to get into his system but no words to sum up a magical child-eating pet snake.
He was back in the middle of the room. The snake was coming up behind him, and judging by the attempt to be stealthy, it probably wanted it’s supper.
That was when something weird happened. Weird even by the standard of being in an evil witch’s snake basement. The whole time he’d been down there, it felt like walking through humid cement. It made sense. Reptiles needed special conditions and a couple spells to keep prey weak and easy to catch was practical if you intended on feeding live. In other words, it was bloody rotten.
Moving was like wading through a swamp-
Until he felt lighter out of nowhere. He didn’t technically have adrenaline anymore, but he felt like he’d gotten a shot of something straight to the heart. Charles used his biggest failing- never thinking before he acted- and turned it into a strength.
He launched himself up off the ground, twisted, and swung the sword straight through the snake’s neck.
It imploded in a big flash of orange light.
Right. Magic snake. Esther was too much of a bloody diva to consider having a snake that would just die like everything else on planet Earth.
But it did die.
For a couple seconds, he couldn’t believe he’d really done that. The nice adrenaline feeling was fading fast, though, and he was wheezing like he’d ran a marathon. Impressive, really, since he hadn’t even made it into cross-country while he was alive. The teacher said he had all the form of a brain-damaged giraffe, and to stick to cricket and rugby. Edwin was the one who could run properly.
Charles wished he didn’t know why, now.
He shook himself off, pretty sure that he’d feel musty and gross for weeks afterwards, despite literally not having a body, unless you counted the one in a grave back in London, and shimmied back up the rope.
When he made it out of the mini dimension, it was chaos.
He ran out of the kitchen- no sign of Monty- and caught sight of Crystal on the floor of the living room. He helped her to her feet, and whispered, ‘The snake’s dead.’
Something ran towards them- he was so fucking sick of things running towards him- but it turned out not to be an issue when Crystal slapped it with proper venom. Venom, not poison.
It fell back onto the stairs, and-
He recognised the dress. Hang on just a tick, was that Esther?
Not a lot of time to really think about that, since the front door swung open a second later. Charles immediately wanted to go hide in the backpack. There was a woman- half-naked and covered in blood, but unlike the, (unfortunately way too many, since he worked with murder as a career,) other ladies he’d seen half-naked and covered in blood, she had power.
There was no other word for it. She wasn’t even focused on him and he could feel the anger radiating off her like some kind of bloody avenging angel.
‘Lillith?’ Esther croaked.
The woman in the doorway- Lillith- wasn’t especially tall, but when she strode forward, her head might as well have been scraping the ceiling. Without saying a word, she grabbed Esther’s ankle in a vice-like grip, and Esther wailed.
It was rare to see anyone actually get dragged somewhere kicking and screaming, but Esther was doing her best.
Her claws scraped the front door on the way out, and she vanished.
Charles’ brain was buzzing with too many questions and expletives and trying to make sense of the absolutely mental day he’d been having, but all of that took a backseat when he was able to take a breath or two in and focus.
Specifically, he focused on Edwin.
He hadn’t even noticed him when he ran in- just like how Esther went from larger to life to a smear on the floor, it looked like Edwin had taken a proper beating.
Crystal and him didn’t say a word as he rushed forward.
What the actual Hell happened to him? Edwin didn’t just look sick- he looked dead. Right, they were ghosts, but between the being able to change their forms and the sheer force of personality that the pair of them carried between them, Edwin never looked like a corpse. He was too expressive, too bright, too dazzling to ever be mistaken for a lump of dead flesh.
Except right that second.
‘Edwin? Edwin, mate, talk to me.’ And he put his hand on his cheek. His neck lolled, and he felt cold to the touch.
Charles’ panic spiked. He needed to get both of them as far away from that evil house as humanly possible for his own sanity as much as anything else.
He just bloody hoped that Edwin was taking a magical nap. He’d earned it.
‘Crystal- what is this thing?’ Charles asked, wrestling with the restraints.
She said nothing. He cursed as his hands scraped against iron, and pulled the lockpick kit out of his pocket. He had it unlocked in a jiffy.
Still, there were loads more, so he asked Crystal; ‘Bit of help here?’
The only response he got was a sniffle.
‘Crystal…?’
He looked up, and she was sobbing. Actually, properly, ‘crying too hard to breathe’ sobbing. Oh no. There were only three of them there-
‘We-’ She gasped out. ‘Niko-’
‘No.’ He replied, like denial would get him anywhere.
‘Esther hit her with- something and- she- she-’ Crystal unwrapped her arms from around herself just long enough to make a gesture like something disappearing.
His breath shuddered. ‘Shit. Shit!’
He realised two things simultaneously. One: that Niko was gone, and that realisation would absolutely wreck him the second he thought about it properly. She was a nice girl- had been a nice girl. The second thing: with Edwin looking more and more like a body on mortuary slap by the minute, and with Crystal losing it, that meant Charles had to step up. He was gonna have to be the brains, brawn, and responsible one.
Jesus fucking Christ.
He choked back all the emotion threatening to overwhelm him, and said, ‘If she’s dead- that means Death’ll be here in a second. And she’ll take all of us.’
Crystal nodded, and joined him beside the table. She ducked down, and came up with a bunch of keys. Between the two of them, they unlocked all the restraints in record time, and Charles reached to take them off before Crystal intercepted him.
‘Iron.’ She said simply, and tugged at them.
When they finally came off, both of them winced. Edwin had clearly been struggling against them, and it showed. What was left of his wrists and ankles was black and cracking.
The Edwin he knew was too composed to start flailing immediately. At what point did he give up on being calm? Did he even notice he was scorching himself alive?
Charles’ own neck and hands were burning. He’d barely touched iron.
How had Edwin been able to stand it?
The answer sprung to his mind as he lifted his best mate, as gently as he could, and didn’t detect so much as an eyelash flutter. Edwin was still there because he had to be- because he’d never, ever gotten a choice in how much pain he could deal with, because he was smart enough and brave enough to get himself out of Hell, and because he was used to agony.
Edwin was out for the count. He had the highest pain tolerance Charles had ever seen, but even he’d cracked eventually.
Charles’ vision got blurry, and he kept his eyes wide open to stop any tears from falling.
Crystal was still a sniffling mess, understandably, and he needed to get all three of them back to the shop before they could deal with the damage. So much damage.
‘Come on.’ He said as gently as he could to her. He repeated it again, a little louder, when she didn’t move..
She blinked. ‘Yeah. Yeah, okay.’
They ran for the door.
-
If the town wasn’t practically deserted, (more of Esther’s doing?) they would’ve seen Crystal jogging back towards the butcher’s with tears streaming down her face. If anyone able to see ghosts was looking, they would’ve got treated to the view of Charles holding his best mate like a damsel in distress a few feet behind her.
But no-one was around.
The entrance to the shop was police barricaded- again- so they ducked into the alleyway and went in through the back instead.
Jenny nearly had a heart attack when Crystal opened the door. ‘Jesus fucking shit!’
She stood up from where she’d been sat on a stool behind the counter, and scanned the trio. ‘What the actual fuck happened to you guys? Is he dead? Or was he already dead- actually, I don’t care, this is weird as shit no matter what, and-’
Crystal sniffed.
‘... Crystal?’ Jenny said, slowly and deliberately. ‘Why isn’t Niko with you?’
Whatever composure Crystal had been holding onto since leaving Esther’s house crumbled. She lurched forward, and it said something about how upset she was that Jenny let herself be pulled into a hug.
‘What? No. Crystal, tell me Niko’s okay.’
‘It was Esther-’
Jenny breathed shakily, and Charles elected to leave them to it. Crystal was in safe hands- that was a small relief, at least.
With Edwin’s head tucked into the burnt flesh of his neck, he made his way up the stairs and into Crystal’s room, determined not to even glance at the anime-papered door opposite. He forced himself forward. As cold as it sounded, what happened to Niko had already happened. Edwin was in serious trouble right that second. He refused to lose another friend- he just couldn’t.
Edwin was too light in his arms. He was used to the solid not-weight of him beside him on the sofa, and his surprisingly broad shoulders when he let Charles hold him.
It was like carrying a hologram.
Ghost logic was dicey at the best of times, but Charles’ brain still went to the kind of things that made living people feel better when they were sick. Some of it sort of worked on ghosts, at least. They couldn’t take meds or drink soup but they could appreciate a nice bed and someone who cared about them close by.
Even though it seemed like Edwin was miles away, Charles laid him down on Crystal’s bed like he was handling priceless porcelain.
That was all he could do.
His stomach churned, and his tears threatened to make a reappearance. He wasn’t the smart one or the magic one, he was just Charles, and all he could do was sit beside his friend and, finally, take it all in.
He was still a detective. He could still put together clues. Whether or not they could point him towards an answer, though…
Sod it. He made a mental list;
- Cold to the touch
- Iron burns on his ankles, wrists, and chest
- That last one should’ve made him more tangible, but his fingers were translucent
- Hadn’t so much as twitched in what felt like hours
- He was back in his Edwardian jimjams
- They reminded him too much of Hell
- Those were tearstains on both their cheeks
It was daft, he knew, but until Crystal calmed down enough to give him a proper run-down of what went on while he was chained up in the kitchen or off fighting a snake, all he could do was mind Edwin. Keep an eye on a boy who couldn’t go anywhere.
Maybe it was more for himself, really. Every time he looked at Edwin, he got reminded of how much pain he’d been in, but he still couldn’t look away.
Right that second, what he wanted most in the entire world was for Edwin to open his eyes, magically stick himself back in his suit, and tell Charles off for ‘worrying unduly.’ Then Charles could take a breath, and laugh, and tell him off for getting himself in trouble with a psychopathic witch.
But Edwin didn’t. Couldn’t.
Instead, Charles used the sleeve of his jacket to wipe the tear tracks off his face, straightened his hair, and pulled the duvet over him.
It made him look a little more normal. It also made Charles feel like an undertaker.
One of the real downsides of being a ghost was that most magical shit that could hurt them worked just fine, but the healing stuff didn’t even make a dent. It couldn’t soak into skin if there was no skin, it couldn’t fix a fever if there was no immune system to fight off an infection, and it couldn’t kill pain if there were no nerve endings to numb.
They felt it all anyway.
All they could do after they ran into some iron or a curse was to wait it out or hope to god that whatever someone hit them with had a nice simple fix in one of Edwin’s books.
They’d gotten lucky, honestly, that they hadn’t had worse.
Their luck had well and truly ran out, if he had to take a guess. He glanced away from his friend when he heard footsteps in the hall, and when he looked back, Edwin had eyebags and the raw skin on the corner of his mouth that Charles had only ever seen when he reverted back to how he died.
Crystal stepped in.
She looked like Hell- and he had experience enough to know. Her skin was grey-ish, which made her red eyes stand out, and she still had some kitchen roll in her hand.
‘How is he?’ She asked, and used the kitchen roll to blow her nose.
‘Bad.’ Charles said bluntly.
‘Fuck.’
He straightened up from where he’d been half-leaning over Edwin, and gritted his teeth.
‘Right.’ He began. ‘I’m missing a few details here, so if you’d be so kind- I need you to fill me in on everything. Any detail you can remember. ‘Cuz- ‘Cuz I’ve never dealt with this before, and I definitely can’t deal with it if I know fuck-all.’
His voice cracked, and Crystal stepped forward.
She pulled up a chair for both of them, even though Charles’ couldn’t get physically tired, and told him it all. From the beginning.
-
‘Holy shit.’ Crystal said.
Charles just nodded. Now that he’d said it all- he was exhausted. Maybe the chair was a good idea. He still had some iron in his system, anyway, which wasn’t helping anything. Christ, why did Esther have to be so thorough about torture? Most people were content with a rack, whip, or well-placed cigarette.
The why wasn’t important. Esther was dead, or adjacent to dead, anyway. Crystal filled him in on it- something about calling the ‘OG feminist’ and getting her to deal with their witch problem. When she finished, she said;
‘I’m so sorry, Charles. Really.’
And she looked genuine.
He was pretty sure the proper reaction was a ‘don’t worry about that right now’ or ‘apology accepted’ or ‘you have nothing to apologise for’-
But he didn’t want to say any of that.
It felt like he was looking at himself through a telescope, but gradually, all the bits came together. He was clenching his fists, and his jaw, and he could feel that fire in his ribcage that meant only one thing. He was angry. No, he was furious.
And he was furious at Crystal.
She’d left them. She’d known there was a witch after them, not to mention the Cat King and any of the other weirdos they’d ran into, and she’d gone to go sort out her ‘personal life’ in London. If he was feeling a bit more generous, he’d reason that she couldn’t have known about Esther’s schemes since none of them knew, but he wasn’t actually feeling that generous right that second.
And to cap it all off- she’d just flung his bag at him without making sure he actually got it. That one dug into him like flint.
How hard was it to check? Could she seriously not see the collar? Was she in such a rush to play hero that she couldn’t hang around for a split second longer just to be certain he could get out and kill a snake for her?
If he’d gotten out faster, maybe it wouldn’t have gone so badly.
Maybe Edwin wouldn’t be on the verge of oblivion, and maybe Niko wouldn’t be dead.
The longer he thought about it, the angrier he got, and the less he could tolerate Crystal sitting beside him like she had any right to wait up with him.
‘You look done in.’ He said, careful to keep his voice neutral and a bit helpful.
‘Thanks.’ She muttered.
She didn’t take the hint, so he had to continue; ‘Take yourself off to bed. Go on. You need it, after the day you’ve had.’
Crystal went very still. ‘I- I don’t wanna be alone right now.’
‘You’re bunking with Jenny, yeah? She’s company enough. Shoo.’
He tried very hard to make that sound concerned with a little streak of playfulness going through it. Like ‘I’m worried but I’ll crack a joke anyway just to see you smile’, which was his usual trick.
‘I guess you’re right.’ She admitted. ‘I can barely keep my eyes open. Promise me you’ll wake me if something goes tits-up?’
‘Yep.’ Charles nodded.
If something did go wrong, I wouldn’t be leaving him long enough to tell you.
Satisfied, she left.
He wondered if she needed to borrow a pair of jimjams, since her suitcase was MIA. Then he turned his focus back to Edwin.
-
‘How is he?’
‘Still bad.’
‘Can I do anything to help?’
‘Just look after yourself, yeah? You can’t help anyone if you’re starving n exhausted.’
-
‘Still nothing?’
‘Not a thing.’
‘Do you mind if I sit with you for a while? Jenny wants some alone time, since she just had to tell Niko’s mom that…’
‘That she’s dead?’
‘Yeah. That.’
‘Go ahead, then. But I’m not feeling very chatty either.’
‘That’s alright.’
-
‘Knock knock.’
‘It’s still technically your room, Crystal. The rent’s up to date.’
‘Yeah, I know. Charles- are you okay?’
‘What? I’m doing absolutely fantastic. My best friend got tortured into near-non-existence by a witch and hasn’t so much as blinked in two days but me? I’m over the moon. Dancing about. Full of fucking merriment!’
‘... Sorry I asked.’
-
By day three, Charles was feeling probably the worst he had ever felt.
He literally couldn’t imagine his life without Edwin. They were the Dead Boy Detectives. Plural. There was no way he could run the agency by himself and even if he could, he wouldn’t want to. He’d spend every case glancing beside him. Asking questions to someone who wasn’t there. Wondering how the hell he was meant to keep functioning when half his soul was gone.
Not just dead or moved on to the Afterlife. Gone gone. Every time he tried to imagine oblivion, it turned into some kind of pitch-black beach full of sand that’d been souls once upon a time- and it scared him.
Edwin didn’t belong there. He belonged at home, in their office, writing or reading or playing Cluedo until a case popped up. Then they’d solve it.
There was a pit at the bottom of his stomach deeper than the one in Esther’s basement.
Charles’ had a theory. He knew that if Edwin knew about it, he’d want him to test it. Scientific method, and all that. The problem was the outcome. If he was right… he didn’t even wanna consider it. But the uncertainty was killing him for the second time over.
Getting up from the chair he hadn’t budged from in days, he scanned Crystal’s dresser. Bingo.
It was a compact mirror. Something that could fit in a purse, probably.
As gently as he could, he held Edwin’s hand. He’d been doing that on and off for the last couple days, more to comfort himself than anything else. That time, though, he had a proper reason. He lightly touched the surface of the mirror to their joined fingertips, and tried to focus on getting them to the mirror across the room.
That was the simplest destination. It basically needed no concentration whatsoever, even for Charles, who admittedly wasn’t great at magical travel. Besides, if he did the navigating, all Edwin needed to do was catch a lift with him.
Edwin’s hand went clean through the mirror and out the other side. Charles’ fingertips disappeared altogether.
Edwin couldn’t mirror-travel.
Shit.
The only times they hadn’t been able to mirror-hop together was when one of them had a bit too much iron in their system. Edwin definitely got the worst iron exposure out of the two of them, but Charles’ had vanished after a couple hours, so Edwin shouldn’t have been far behind him.
It had been three days. Seventy-two hours.
So it wasn’t the iron keeping him stuck. Besides, iron made them tangible- his fingers should’ve just touched the mirror like he was a regular solid human instead of going through.
That left him with very few options, and he hated the ones that were left. He’d already ruled out it being iron, and since he’d tried to help him through and that hadn’t worked, it meant it wasn’t just a case of not being able to focus. If he was being honest with himself, he could’ve guessed the answer from the first night. He just hadn’t wanted to admit it.
The reason Edwin couldn’t go through the mirror was simple- there wasn’t enough of him left to make the journey.
Ghosts were made of pure enemy, and from what Crystal told him, that’s exactly what Esther had been stealing. Ghost rules were convoluted at the best of times but that formula was simple enough. Every ghost had a limited amount of energy. Stuff like iron, curses, and holy ground took energy away, and stuff like rest, laughter, and getting away from the dangerous shit gave it back.
Edwin had theorised a couple times about something he called ‘the broken glass’ theory. The long and short of it was that if a cup ran out, it could be refilled. If the cup was broken, then no amount could fill it. It would just run straight through.
Distantly, Charles knew he should’ve been crying. He just couldn’t.
Instead, he acted like nothing was wrong. He carefully brushed Edwin’s hair off his forehead for the millionth time, and talked to him like he could hear.
‘You’re not allowed to leave me, mate.’ He said. ‘I don’t know where the bloody hell you’ve gone but you need to come back. Come on- if literal Hell couldn’t keep you, then this shouldn’t be able to, either. Just- just come back, alright? Come back, and-’
He felt like he was choking.
‘And- and tell me everything’s gonna be okay. From the first bloody moment I saw you in the attic, I knew it was gonna be okay.’
Even now, he couldn’t explain how he’d known that. He’d just been beaten more-than-half to death. The only rational reaction to another lad showing up was to assume he was there to finish the job.
But Edwin said ‘Don’t worry, I shan't hurt you.’
And Charles believed him.
In the present, he cleared his throat; ‘Bit embarrassing now, ‘cuz I know all that stuff about angels coming down is a load of bollocks- but I thought you might’ve been an angel. You said you were dead. I was a bit out of it, like, but I assumed you were one of those goody-two-shoes that was so nice on earth that so-and-so let you come back to do more do-gooding. Didn’t know why you came for me, though. Wasn’t much then. Not really much now either.’
He could hear footsteps coming up the stairs, and blurted out; ‘Don’t go somewhere I can’t follow, alright? ‘Cuz there’s no version of this where I’m fine on my own.’
A couple seconds later, the bedroom door opened, and Crystal came in.
Charles was expecting a repeat of the last couple times she’d made an appearance. More often than not, she left a second later. She probably sensed that he wasn’t over the moon to see her right that second, and didn’t push.
Crystal plonked herself down on the spare seat, and gave him a look. Uh oh.
‘What?’ He couldn’t help asking.
‘You’ve been avoiding me.’ She said.
‘That’s a bit impossible, considering I’ve been in your room for like half a week. I haven’t gone anywhere- nothin’ stopping you from waltzing in.’
‘I’m not waltzing anywhere. I’ve been crying my eyes out to Jenny for days!’
‘Alright! But you coulda dropped in whenever you felt like it, is all.’
‘Oh, I did. And you found an excuse for me to leave every single time.’
He couldn’t meet her eyes.
‘So-’ She continued. ‘I’m guessing you’re upset over more than just Edwin and Niko. Otherwise, you’d be trying to make me feel better. Am I right?’
‘... A bit, yeah.’
She sighed. ‘You’re not feeling chatty- which is weird, by the way- so I’ll just ask a couple questions and all you need to do is tell me yes or no. Deal?’
‘Fine. Fire away, then.’
‘Are you mad at me for leaving in a hurry?’
‘Kinda.’
‘Are you mad at me for not getting to Esther’s sooner?’
‘Not really?’
‘Are you mad at me for letting Niko die?’ She sounded choked.
‘What? No! That one’s on Esther.’
‘If it’s not about any of that, then, then why have you been acting like you’ll break out in ghost hives around me for the last couple days?’
Charles took a deep breath. He needed to find the right words.
None sprung to mind, so he said; ‘The backpack.’
Crystal looked genuinely confused. ‘What about it? We gave it to you, didn’t we?’
‘You didn’t, actually.’ He grimaced. ‘What you actually did was throw it in my general direction while completely forgetting I was chained up. Bloody Monty had to help me out! Monty! And he doesn’t even like me!’
Realisation dawned on her face. ‘Wait, that means-’
‘I spent a full five minutes burning my neck to bits trying to get ahold of the bloody thing and that wasted time probably doomed Niko n Edwin? Yeah!’
He sounded proper angry. Even to himself. He was trying to rein it in but it was like every word just built up momentum.
‘Charles-’
‘And I don’t want to fall out with you- not when everything is so unbelievably shit- but- it’s like- why? You’ve got a perfectly working pair of eyes n ears. Did they suddenly lose fucking function? You couldn’t have taken that extra second to make sure I could actually help yous out?’
‘I am so sorry-’
Charles realised he was crying. Not, like, sobbing, but he’d definitely sprung a leak. Fucks’ sake.
‘What if I couldn’t, eh?’ He said wetly. ‘What if Monty hadn’t been there, or if he hadn’t been feeling helpful? We’d all still be back in that stupid bloody house listening to Edwin scream his lungs out because I couldn’t reach a bag!’
For a second, he and Crystal just stared at each other. He was gulping down air he didn’t need. The worst part was that yelling all that didn’t even make him feel better- it made him feel worse, since Crystal was the only functional member of their little team around, and he was blowing up on her instead of helping.
He felt absolutely useless.
‘Charles…’ She said eventually, and when he didn’t interrupt her again, she continued; ‘I had no idea. I swear I had no idea. We were in a rush and we- I- assumed you were fine.’
‘Oh, you think I sit on witches’ floors just for the fun of it?’
She shook her head. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry. I guess I just forget that even ghosts have limits.’
Without meaning to, both of them glanced at Edwin, tucked up like a corpse in a morgue shelf. Crystal cleared her throat.
‘What’s up with his mouth?’ She asked.
‘Sometimes ghosts can’t control how they look, and they default back to whatever they looked like when they died.’
He could see her putting the clues together. She scrubbed her face roughly.
‘God, has he ever had an easy day?’ Crystal said.
Charles almost laughed. ‘Meh, we’ve had a couple decent ones down at the office, but Fate seems to love using him as a punching bag.’
‘Fate’s a bitch.’
‘Said the psychic to the ghost.’
She paused. ‘Look. I know you’re used to it just being the two of you, but I’m here now. I’m not, like, a ghost doctor, but I’m not gonna stay away anymore. You’re my friend, Charles, and so’s Edwin. Getting my memories back- it made me so crazy about the past that I forgot that the best time of my life has been with the agency.’
Despite himself, he smiled. ‘Even with all the danger and intrigue?’
‘Yes, even with all the danger and intrigue and magical bullshit that wants to stomp on us every two seconds.’
‘Well, then. It’d be proper mean of me to tell you to fuck off now, wouldn’t it?’
‘Total dick move.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Can you fill me in, please?’
So he did. And he did feel better when he was telling her about the Broken Glass Theory, and he could tell the cogs were turning in her brain. When he mentioned the thing with the mirror, though, she cut him off.
‘Wait, he’s like a ghost for ghosts?’
‘Pretty much, yeah.’ He swallowed. ‘I’m just really bloody hoping it’s not a permanent thing.’
‘You and me both.’
-
Charles insisted on her going to bed at some point in the wee hours, but at least Crystal didn’t feel like she was being banished anymore. Plus, she couldn’t keep her eyes open, so the sleep was probably a good idea.
The next morning was a little less lonely.
He still felt like a pot of worry that’d been left on the stove too long and was rapidly overflowing, but at least Crystal was bubbling right beside him.
They chatted a bit, here and there. Stupid stuff, mostly, just to fill the air and make it feel a little less like they were at a funeral. She told him a bit about her parents, and some more of her history with David, and he treated her to the Greatest Hits edition of some of his and Edwin’s misadventures over the years.
She was mid-chuckle over The Novelty Duck Disaster Of ‘09 when she abruptly stopped.
‘Crystal…? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’ He said.
‘Look at his hands.’ She sounded brittle.
So he did. The rest of Edwin looked the same as it had done since escaping Esther’s- complete with the translucent fingers- but something had changed. The tips of his fingers were gone, and whatever it was was spreading down to his knuckles. It wasn’t just absence, though. It almost looked like he was on fire, with flickers of orange and blue springing up like a gas hob.
‘I know what that is.’ Crystal said. ‘That fiery stuff- it’s what Esther was taking. What she was drinking, actually, which probably makes it-’
‘His actual fucking essence.’ Charles finished for her.
‘Charles, what do we do?’
He shook his head, so terrified it looped back ‘round to feeling numb. ‘I don’t know. I really don’t know.’
All he could do was reach for his best mate, and hope to whatever sick gods were out there that even they couldn’t be cruel enough to send him to Oblivion after all he’d already been through. He’d even started muttering please under his breath. As pointless as it was, bargaining with the air, it felt better than doing nothing at all while Edwin flickered like a lighter flame.
Crystal was shaking his arm. He barely noticed. After a beat, she grabbed his shoulder and turned him to face her.
‘Look.’ She said, ‘I have an idea. It’s probably a really, really dumb idea, but it’s the only one I’ve got, and the only option we have. Do you trust me?’
Charles had never been that smart. He nodded.
‘I’m a psychic. I read minds. But minds are just extensions of souls. As a general rule, we don’t like to snoop around souls- it gets into possession territory, it’s risky for both parties, and a hell of a lot harder to navigate. But it is possible to take a look around. And maybe, maybe if we can see what we’re actually dealing with, we can fix it.’
He blinked. ‘You want to mind-read Edwin?’
‘More like soul-read, but yeah.’
In front of them, Edwin was fading fast. It was a no-brainer.
Charles nodded. ‘Right. Okay. Hang on- what do you mean we? I’m not a psychic, Crys.’
She rolled her shoulders like she was physically hyping herself up. ‘When Esther took both of you- she didn’t drag two life-size ghost boys across Port Townsend. No, she turned you into some glowy marbles. Can you, like, do that willingly? I might be able to work with that.’
‘Uh.’ He licked his lip nervously. ‘Technically? Edwin’s studied it more than I have. Orb form’s like a turtle shell- but if a turtle shell made the turtle feel bad.’
Before Crystal could look too concerned, he added, ‘But I have done it before. I’ll do it.’
‘Thank fuck. It’ll be easier to get you in if you’re travel-sized. I gotta warn you, though- it’s gonna be messy. And scary. And I don’t know if it’s exactly healthy to drag a ghost through another ghost’s mind. But… I’d feel better with a guide. You and Edwin are already practically telepathic.’
He grinned half-heartedly at that. ‘Count me in, Mystic Meg.’
‘Right.’ She exhaled. ‘You get yourself ready- I’ll write a quick note to Jenny just in case we all get stuck in a vanishing mind together.’
‘That a risk, then?’
‘Probably? I’ll be honest, this is new ground for me, too.’
‘Nothing we can do about it now.’ He stated, and went back to focusing on shrinking himself down.
It was one of those ghost things that was a bit difficult to explain. It felt vulnerable, like iron did, but safe, in a way that made it kinda comforting to actually be a ball of light but a nightmare before and after turning into one. It was like sitting down on a sofa, dozing off, and waking up like six hours later. Sure, the nap was nice, but you’d still be gone for however long.
They’d only had to do it a couple times in an emergency. Charles fell on an iron fence, once, and vanished before he could help it.
The next day, he found himself back at the office, and told Edwin all about feeling like he was wrapped in a comfy pillowcase the whole time. Edwin blushed when he admitted Charles had been in his pocket.
He’d liked that thought.
If it’d been anything else that’d hurt Edwin that badly, he probably would’ve turned into an orb himself. Unfortunately, orbs were souls, and his was a little worse for wear.
Charles started shifting. Shrinking down into the barest bits of himself tended to make his brain go a little loopy, since a lot of the complex thought went out the window. Still, there was one thing he couldn’t forget, not even with most of his brain turning to glitter.
He needed to get Edwin back.