Chapter Text
"Edwin, we need to talk."
It's a random Tuesday when Charles suddenly shoots up from his spot on the settee where he was 'organizing his pack'— Edwin saw right through that lie but said nothing. He couldn't help but notice the way Charles continuously paused and stared into space, his brows furrowed like he was trying to solve a truly vexing puzzle.
Even so, Edwin was not going to pry. He knew Charles would come to him and, just as he figured, Charles did.
Said boy makes his way over to the desk, slower and more hesitant than he's been since Port Townsend. It makes alarm bells ring softly in the back of Edwin's head but he tries to ignore them. He's probably just overthinking.
Charles perches atop the corner of the desk that he basically claimed as his own 'chair', staring down at Edwin with an unreadable expression. He opens his mouth, as if he's going to say something, then closes it. He opens it again, closes it again, before finally saying, "I, um— I have something I need to tell you and I already know you're gonna have like a billion questions or remarks but I just need you to listen and let me get this all out, yeah?" His eyes bore into Edwin's and he raises his brows expectantly.
Edwin merely nods because he doesn't think he could get out a proper word now even if he tried. The quiet alarm bells he tried to dismiss are ringing loudly in his ears, almost drowning out the sound of the other boy's voice as he starts to speak.
"Okay so, Edwin— you know you're my best mate. Like, since the night we met, you've been my best friend and I'd even go as far to say that during those few hours we spent together when I was alive, you instantly became one of the most important people in my life. I hope you know all that and that you've never doubted that, even with everything that happened in Port Townsend— with me bringing Crystal to the agency without your agreement and going to America—"
"I know, Charles. That is something that I have never questioned. And, I hope you know that you are also my best friend and the most important person in my life as well. Just as you said, it's been that way since the night we met."
"Right, right." Charles nods, staring down at his hands as he seemingly mulls something over. "I'm glad you know all that 'cause uh, I've been doing some thinking since the Night Nurse became our minder and the Principal came 'round and pardoned you from Hell. I know I usually operate on whatever I'm feeling in the moment and I know that pisses you off so I felt like it was important to really think about this—"
"Charles, I'm sorry to interrupt once again but, what exactly is it that you've had to think so deeply about?"
"I'm getting to that, I promise. I just feel like I gotta give you some context before I really dive into the thing I'm trying to tell you so you can have the whole picture, yeah?"
"Alright.."
Charles takes a breath, standing from his place on the desk and shaking out his shoulders like he's preparing to go into battle. Edwin can't help but, secretly, think it's quite endearing considering the situation. Charles takes a couple small steps towards him, going as far as to take the desk chair by its arms and turn it so Edwin is facing him properly.
Edwin can't help but wonder if he's stalling or if this is truly something so important that Charles wants everything to be just right. He can't help but wonder if Charles has practiced whatever he wants to say, if he's imagined it over and over in different ways. It’s not like him at all—to a point where it’s a bit concerning—so Edwin forces himself to stare right at the other boy, trying to show that he’s giving Charles his undivided attention.
Charles steps right into his space, their knees brushing as Charles takes Edwin's hands in his own and stares down at him with an expression that Edwin would only dare to describe as adoring. His lips are moving and Edwin can’t help but watch them as they shape words he can't quite understand.
The alarm bells in his head are once again ringing so loudly that Edwin almost doesn't hear what Charles says.
"What?" He croaks out unsteadily because surely, Charles did not just say—
"I'm in love with you, Edwin."
"You— I'm sorry, I— what?"
Charles doesn't falter in the face of Edwin's embarrassing floundering. He just chuckles, warm and fond like he somehow finds Edwin's behavior endearing. Edwin feels his cheeks flush, the warmth quickly spreading to his ears. "I'm in love with you." Charles says once more, staring Edwin in the eye with an expression so serious and sincere that Edwin can't even doubt what the other boy is saying— despite how far fetched it seems in the back of his mind. "I've been thinking about it for awhile, just like I told you I would in Hell and once I started I just couldn't stop! You're my person, mate and honestly," He wipes a hand down his face with a disbelieving laugh. "I can't believe I didn't realize sooner!"
Charles kneels down and brings their clasped hands to his chest without taking his eyes off Edwin. "I know it took me a bit to figure it all out so I'd— I'd get it if you moved on but if you haven't.." He trails off, suddenly shy. "I'd love to be your boyfriend or like, your partner or whatever you'd want to call it."
For just a moment, Edwin is engulfed in a feeling of warmth so visceral he almost feels as if he’s alive— like his blood is pumping through his veins, igniting every long dead part of his body and making his heart pound in his chest.
It's just a moment, though—quick and fleeting—because he is quickly brought back to reality, feeling as if he’s been doused with cold water as he really thinks about what’s happening right now, what he’s being so sweetly offered.
"Charles..." Edwin starts, and Charles must recognize that tone of voice he's using because the boy's smile slowly slides off of his face, his entire demeanor dimming with it.
"What?" Charles asks, slow and hesitant. Edwin can tell he knows that whatever he has to say, Charles won't like. "What's wrong?"
"Charles, I.." He trails off again, rising from the desk chair with shaky legs and taking his hands from Charles’ grasp. The other boy is quick to follow, seemingly frozen in place as Edwin takes a few hesitant steps away him, phasing slightly into the desk chair with his need for distance. Edwin clenches his fists to keep himself from reaching out. It'll be easier to get the words out without any lingering touch, without giving either of them a taste of what Edwin now knows they both yearn for so deeply. "We cannot be together." He's looking more at Charles' collar than his face, unable to look the other boy in the eye, but he hopes his tone sounds absolute. He doesn’t think he has it in his heart to argue about this.
Charles stares at him for a moment, his eyes searching for something— Edwin doesn't know what. "Okay." He says, measured but strained. "Why?"
"Charles," Edwin implores. He risks a glance up at Charles face, finds his brown eyes glassy and questioning. Edwin quickly looks away again. "I just don't think it is a good idea." He could say more. He could talk about how he's so scared of being an inadequate partner, how he's scared that such a change will lead to him losing Charles entirely when he's already beyond lucky to just call the other boy his best friend and companion in life. He could talk about the deeper, darker bits that make him feel undeserving of such a beautiful boy’s tender love and affection.
When he confessed his love, he never seriously considered that Charles might ever reciprocate. Sure, he had secretly hoped—in the moment and even for a while after—that Charles might turn around and confess his love, but as more time passed since their return to London, Edwin had begun to do what he does best.
He began to think, even daydream about his love being reciprocated. He'd try and imagine a world in which they were more than friends but it always seemed a bit unreachable, not just because Charles did not reciprocate his feelings. Edwin has never been in a relationship, has never even had a proper crush while living or dead—unless you count his fleeting infatuation with Monty—until Charles.
Edwin honestly didn't even think he was capable of that sort of love anymore— deep down, he always assumed it was ripped away from him in Hell, along with many other things that would've made him a normal person instead of the half functioning shell of a boy.
Edwin had his first kiss mere months ago, without his consent. It had been stolen but it was at least something he had gotten done and over with. There was no more pressure on that front, but there was so much more when it came to being in a relationship.
He knows that he and Charles made a good pair despite their many, many differences. In fact, their contrasting personalities is part of why they work so well together, almost forming one person that can excel in many ways that wouldn't be achievable on their own. That isn't the problem and neither is the social aspect. Edwin, Charles, and even Crystal have all been more open within their small circle.
There is no wound too deep, no thought or past action too ugly to share between them. The three of them are thick as thieves. Charles now talks so much about his father and his friends from when he was alive, how he never truly felt good enough to be loved properly. Edwin tries to be as open, speaking of Hell and his time at St. Hilarion's, before Simon and his friends' bullying became fatal. He speaks about how he always knew he was different and how everyone else could tell as well, even if Edwin himself didn't know what exactly made him stand out to his peers. On late nights, Crystal sits on their settee and recounts story after story of things she did with David and her other friends as if she is at confession. She talks about her progress in rekindling her past relationships, how hard it is to explain how she's changed. She talks about her parents and how they didn't even try to make time to see her when she came back from Port Townsend, how she doesn't know if it's even worth putting in the effort to try and have some sort of relationship with them.
That is all to say, despite almost thirty five years together, despite a reciprocation of feelings, and despite everything that happened in Port Townsend, Edwin Paine still finds himself afraid of change. There is too much on the line, this time. He knows how this will end before it even begins. Edwin will not be able to operate properly in a romantic relationship.
Despite loving Charles so dearly, he will not be able to give him the affection he desires or needs. Charles will slowly realize that his love for Edwin only came to be because he had some sort of idealized version of Edwin as a partner in his head—a version the real Edwin could never live up to—and will subsequently put an end to their romantic relationship while swearing that they can stay best friends, that nothing has to change just because this part of them didn't work out.
Charles will easily bounce back, find someone new and begin a relationship with someone who is able to fulfill his needs and Edwin will be left broken hearted. He will stay Charles' friend, of course, but it will hurt. It will hurt and it will take so long to come back from. Edwin will be consumed by his thoughts, wondering why he ever thought he could be the partner Charles needed, why he even gave this whole thing a chance when it was destined to end like this, for he is never one to be so lucky.
So, it's better if it never even begins. He is just saving them both the trouble, really.
"Is it—" Charles cuts himself off, takes a small step forward and bows his head, his voice going soft and quiet, as if they aren't the only two people in the room. "Is it because of like, kissing and stuff because, I promise, we don't need—"
"It isn't about the physical aspect." Edwin cuts him off quickly. "Not entirely, at least." He adds.
"Edwin," Charles puts his hands on his shoulders and gives him a comforting squeeze. Edwin still can't stand to look him in the eye. "We never have to kiss if you don't want to—"
"Of course I want to, Charles!" Edwin cries, wrenching himself out of the other boy's grip, phasing completely through the desk chair and making his way over to the front of the desk. "It's just that I don't think.." He runs a hand through his hair, a shuddering sigh leaving his lips. "I don't think I'd be... enough for you." He admits, more to his boots than to the other boy. "I know I won't be enough for you, I— I am not good with people. I told you this on the night we met and I've made that clear numerous times throughout our many years together. I've neglected your needs countless times, I've been callous and cruel. I was too self involved to notice your struggles while Crystal was able to see through you in a matter of days!"
Edwin rests his hands on the desk in an attempt to ground himself. He fixes his gaze on the grain of the wood between them. "I am broken, Charles. You saw Hell, you know what happened to me down there. That changes people. I am not the boy I once was and though you only know me as the boy who escaped Hell, that does not mean you've seen just how badly it ripped me apart. You don't realize how poor of an attempt I've made to put myself back together again or maybe you've just overlooked it but, I— I am not meant to be loved, I am not meant to be befriended." He rambles, tears forming in his eyes as he thinks back to all his missteps and wrongdoings just in Port Townsend.
He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, all he can see is bloodstained white clothes and empty eyes, all he can hear is a rattling cough and chattering teeth. "I am the reason Niko is dead, Charles. I dare say I am the reason you are dead, as well." Finally, finally, he gathers the courage to look at Charles who just stands there, looking horrified and beyond confused. "I am not good, Charles. All I do is hurt the people I love and though I have managed to keep you all these years, though you have managed to overlook my many flaws, I fear that being... more than friends would end in irreparable heartbreak."
"Edwin, what the fuck?" Charles says incredulously. It's clear he's trying to keep a level head throughout this whole conversation. He doesn't want it to turn into a fight or a confrontation and Edwin appreciates that but he also feels as if he might deserve to be scrutinized. He deserves to finally be the focus of Charles' ire and contempt. It has been a long time coming, Edwin feels. "None of that is true! You're not— you didn't—" Charles tries, his voice shaking. He clenches his jaw shut, taking a breath and glancing at the ceiling to try and pull himself together. "I love you." He says, staring the other boy straight in the eyes. "I've seen you in Hell and I love you, just like you've seen me at my worst and still love me."
A part of Edwin that had only recently been awakened flutters in his chest before he forcefully stamps it all down. "Charles," He whimpers out, screwing his eyes shut as he knows his clinical demeanor has crumbled entirely. "I killed Niko." He repeats softly, staring down at his hands. He digs his nails into the wood of the desk even though he knows he won't feel it or the pain he's trying to manifest. "I killed you and you— you hate being dead! You should look at me and feel nothing but contempt! Because of me you cannot grow up! You can't be with someone like Crystal— someone you'd have a real, fulfilling relationship with! You can't eat your mother’s food— you can’t even talk to your mother! You can no longer enjoy the way music vibrates through your entire body like it had when you attended concerts! You cannot even enjoy something as simple as feeling tired after playing cricket!”
Charles bounds over to the other boy, spinning him around by the hips and crowding him up against the front of the desk. "I need you to shut up for a second." He says through gritted teeth, like he's trying to keep his anger in check despite being filled with fury. Edwin recognizes the fire in his eyes, a look that says he isn't going to back down. "You didn't kill me, Edwin. How could you even say that?"
"I could've gotten help. I could've alerted someone like—"
"Like who? The boys who threw me in the fucking lake and tried to stone me to death?"
"No, but I could've gone to get a professor or another student—"
"After curfew? And what would you even do? Run around and knock on the dormitory doors, guide someone who was half asleep to the attic with a floating lantern? Written something on a chalkboard? Everyone would've brushed it off, ya know, like they basically did with my death."
"I still— I should've done more." Edwin whispers softly into the small amount of space between them. "I was selfish and preoccupied with keeping you comfortable, trying to warm you up. I read you a bloody novel instead of doing anything remotely useful!" He spits out, bringing his hands up to hold Charles by the shoulders and jostling him ever so slightly.
"It was too late for me, mate. I mean, I didn't really know that being able to see you meant I had one foot in the grave, yeah? I figured I'd be right as rain after the night was over but that doesn't matter now. You were kind, kinder than anyone I had ever met and you had just escaped Hell!" Charles points out with a squeeze to Edwin's hips. "You had just escaped Hell and you stayed with a boy you didn't know and tried to comfort him as he died— despite the fact that you could've gotten sent right back if Death saw you. You constantly go on and on about how kind I am and how I have such a big heart and a strong sense of justice but I don't think you understand that those are some of the few things we happen to have in common."
Edwin screws his eyes shut and shakes his head, digging his fingers into the meat of Charles' shoulders as if he's due to run away at any second.
"You are kind, even if you hide it behind all that dry humor and pompousness. We both know that I'd do anything to keep you safe, to protect you, but you're exactly the same. You are always trying to protect me. You didn't want us to get close to Crystal because befriending someone human would mean saying goodbye one way or another. You didn't ask about my folks because you knew it would upset me. You never yelled at me, never called me names when I was being stupid. After thirty four years of being together, I know you. I know you, I’ve seen you in Hell and I love you. I love you, Edwin and you love me back. That’s all that matters.”
Edwin's eyes open and he looks at Charles like he's seeing him for the first time, in a way, he feels like he is. He so badly wants to give in, to let Charles love him and to try and make it work. "It is not that simple, Charles…" He trails off, feeling the fight leave his body in real time. Maybe the other boy is right. Charles has always been more knowledgeable about relationships and matters of the heart— maybe Edwin can trust him. Maybe, things wouldn’t end in a catastrophic disaster.
Charles cups his cheeks so gently it almost sends Edwin to tears once more. He caresses the other boy's skin with his thumbs and leans in ever so slightly. "You don't have to be scared, love." He whispers.
"Charles," Edwin implores again, his eyes flitting to Charles' lips despite all his fear.
"Edwin," He responds, causing Edwin's breath to hitch. "I just want to love you." He pulls Edwin closer by his face until their noses are brushing with every small movement.
Edwin's eyes flutter closed and he lets out a soft sigh, tilting his face ever so slightly up like a flower searching for the sun's light. His lips brush against Charles' and it feels like a jolt of electricity makes its way throughout his body— from the top of his head to the tips of his toes.
Charles lets out a shaky breath and brushes their lips together once more, this time with a bit more purpose. Edwin's hands fall from their place on the other boy's shoulder, sliding down to rest atop Charles' chest. He swears he can almost feel the other boy’s heart pounding through the fabric of his shirt. He feels so warm, so real and in the end, that is what brings Edwin crashing down to reality, any semblance of warmth being quickly snuffed out by the realization of what let himself do.
It’s once more like he’s been doused with cold water, an awful, gaping pit forming in his stomach.
"Charles," Edwin gasps, pushing the other boy away by the chest. "Please, don't— don't do this." He mumbles, closing his eyes as he tries to commit the feeling of Charles' lips and body against his to memory.
Charles just stares at him for a moment, looking like a deer in headlights with his wide eyes and parted lips. He licks his lips, giving Edwin a curt nod. "I'm sorry." He says, his gaze stuck on the ceiling. Edwin, despite all logic, feels sick. Charles is trying not to cry. "I shouldn't have— yeah. You're right. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."
"It is.. alright. We forgot ourselves for a moment but it truly cannot happen again. Charles, I cannot lose you—"
"I get it, Edwin; your friendship is the most important thing in the world to me. So, don't worry, I understand.” Charles says but it doesn't even sound like he's trying to be convincing.
Edwin can feel his heart break, the awful pit in his stomach only worsening with every retraction that comes out of Charles' mouth. It's his fault, he knows it is. He is the one causing all this pain and complications but it just proves that he was right.
All he can do is hurt the ones he loves.