Charles Rowland (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} hereagain) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} junkedic,@ 2025-05-01 06:56:00 |
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| Entry tags: | ! log/thread/narrative, dc (film/tv): charles rowland, dc (film/tv): edwin payne, ✷ chapter 05 (body swap yourself) |
Charles & Edwin
• one more potion attempt
• their office • 1st may
• art credit hannaloony
• ⚠ death form, talk of charles' death by hypothermia & drowning
I don't think- I can't die again.
• their office • 1st may
• art credit hannaloony
• ⚠ death form, talk of charles' death by hypothermia & drowning
I don't think- I can't die again.
It didn't feel any different at first. Edwin had been off- he'd mentioned something about friends, but Charles had been distracted enough that he couldn't remember if he was with Monty or Bellara or maybe one of the ghost hunters or something else. And Charles thought he'd had a breakthrough. Or at least an improvement on the potion.
He had meditated beforehand, even, clearing his mind. The potion was still a vibrant blue, although the smell was a little more floral than last time. He eyed the cauldron, ladling a dose into a glass and he downed it. It was sharp, then sweet, and Charles didn't notice anything- which wasn't unusual, after the last attempts.
Charles was just cleaning up the rest of the mess when the first symptom hit him. He looked down at his hands- his fingers were starting to turn blue, the color bleeding up from his fingertips and toward his palms. He reached for the towel to wipe down the table and his fingers passed through- well. He wasn't corporeal this time, but what had he..?
And then he was shivering. Looking down, he realized that the blue tinge was creeping up his skin, his clothes hanging loose on his frame. They didn't have a mirror for him to see his reflection in, and he reached for his phone, cursing to himself when his hand passed through it again.
It took a lot of concentration for him to lift the phone and get a message sent to Edwin before he sank to the floor beside the desk, pulling his legs up to his chest as he tried to hold onto any bit of heat he could conserve.
Edwin didn’t bother to knock, simply phasing through the door an improbably short time later with little more than a few deep breaths to show for it. He had merely popped across campus to the greenhouse to check in on the weeds, and he could be fast when he chose to be. Edwin didn’t care about the figure he struck as he sprinted across the green. The boys had a system, and not once in their decades of partnership had Charles ever used their codeword without dire need.
“Charles, where–?” He took in the scene in front of him: the ritual supplies still scattered on the desk, some knocked carelessly from their usual position. And then, the sigh of his love huddled near the corner of the desk, with a tremor in his shoulders and a dampness to his hair. But…
No. He couldn’t have–
“Charles.” Edwin was across the room and kneeling in front of his partner in the time it took him to heave a sigh. A steady hand hooked under his chin to turn his (pale, gaunt) face to look Edwin in the eye. “Fuck, love. What happened?”
It was a little easier to focus as Edwin approached, and Charles sighed, tilting his head toward Edwin's touch. He couldn't seem to stop trembling, couldn't help but notice the rattle in his chest-he remembered that feeling. The last time he'd felt any of this, he'd-
Well. He'd died.
It took several tries for his voice to work. "Potion," he finally rasped out, then turned his head to cough into his elbow. "Thought I had it this time. But I'm not- something must have happened."
A glare was directed up at the ritual cloth hanging over the edge of the desk as if it had been the one to harm his love. “You most certainly are not.” Edwin’s mind tried to pull him down the path of analysis over what could have caused Charles’ state; it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize it was simply his mind’s way of trying to avoid the reality of it.
Charles was (or appeared to be) dying all over again.
The sound of that cough shattered something in Edwin’s own chest, drawing out a deep frown and making his hand fall from Charles’ jaw. “Of all the impatient, reckless, stupid things to do! After the conversation we have just had about luck…” Edwin moved that hand up to brush back a wet curl from Charles’ forehead.
"I don't think- I don't have a form," Charles started. "So I'm not-"
Another rattling cough to the side and he closed his eyes when that made him dizzy. "I don't think- I can't die again." Could he? He wasn't going with Death if she arrived. If she could even make it out here.
He closed his eyes at Edwin’s touch. Edwin was right to yell- he knew it was stupid. But he'd wanted to do this for the both of them, especially once Edwin admitted to wanting it, too. And they'd done so well last time. "It should pass. It has to."
“Of course you can’t,” The assertion lacked any sort of confidence; Edwin felt that sharp ache in his chest again, a mirror of how he’d felt the first time he’d found Charles in such a state. Only this time it was worse, because he knew how deep the pain went. How deep his feelings for Charles actually ran. “And it will. Pass,” That, at least, Edwin was able to find some certainty for. Whatever happened, he was hardly going to let Charles
To allow Death to–
No.
With another deep breath, Edwin sat back on his heels so he could shuffle Charles’ overcoat off his shoulders. A flick of his wrists brough the material around Charles’ huddled form, followed quickly by Edwin’s arm. He shifted closer so he could tuck Charles’ head to his chest, hissing at the chill that seeped through his ghostly clothes.
“I’ve got you, love. I’m–” That crack in his voice was not helping anyone. Edwin pursed his lips, choosing silence over trusting his voice for another try.
Charles nodded, leaning into Edwin once the coat was over his shoulders.
"I'm s-sorry," he whispered, teeth still chattering. He hadn't meant for this to happen. He wasn't even sure of what caused this to happen. He'd followed every step as they had written it.
He could feel the damp now, a faint musty smell emanating from- well he couldn't quite tell if that was him or his clothing. "I need to-I should change. Dry off. I'm getting you wet, too."
Edwin could only tut quietly at Charles’ apology. It wasn’t as though he thought his love had anything to really apologize for; of course he hadn’t meant to get himself hurt. But Edwin struggled to brush the apology away; it was all a sorry state of affairs, and one Edwin felt somehow less prepared to handle than any of the other effects they had made for themselves.
A vague worry clenched at Edwin’s chest when Charles mentioned changing. But he was right: they needed to try. “In a minute. Just–” Arms curled that fraction tighter around Charles’ form, holding him closer. He didn’t care about the smell, or the wet. He wasn’t quite ready to break away from Charles.
Only that was selfish of him, wasn’t it? Edwin indulged himself for a count of five, and then forced himself to stand.
“Just… stay there, love. Work on your clothes for me, and I– I can. Find some towels,”
There were some in the supply closet, he knew that. His eyes cut to the door, hesitant to walk back out of the room with Charles in his current state.
Charles closed his eyes, leaning into Edwin's embrace as he felt the arms tighten around him. He nodded once. "Yeah, that's- alright."
And then Edwin stood. "Ye-yes, I can do that." He reached up for the edge of the desk, pulling himself up to stand. It still took considerable effort, but he swayed once on his feet. It took him a moment, setting the coat on the edge of the desk, then he fumbled with his suspenders. It took a little while, but he eventually peeled damp clothes down to his boxers. He continued to shiver, and he raked his fingers through his hair, sending his curls awry.
He all but bolted from the room as soon as he was sure Charles could steady himself on his feet. Edwin maintained his sense of composure enough not to run straight through the other private rooms, but it was a near thing. He returned back through their office door with a tall stack of towels just as Charles was setting the last of his clothes aside.
“Here, love, here–” Edwin surged forward, dropping the towels on the desk for easy access. He wasted no time starting to rub the towel over Charles’ shoulders, down one arm. How Charles was supposed to help with Edwin occupying his space was not something Edwin was willing to stop to consider. Friction, dryness, warmth. That was what Charles needed
Charles was drooping a little, leaning into the desk as Edwin returned. He reached for a second towel, but then Edwin was there, rubbing him down. He wished they had a tub- a hot bath sounded incredible. He looked down- was he getting more blue?- and he started to wipe his other arm, other bits of him as best he could.
"Thank you," he breathed, trying to focus on being present. "I thought- I'd forgotten what this felt like."
“As you should have. I… bollocks,” Edwin was nothing but clinical in the way he worked to dry Charles off. His voice was so thin, the pallor of his skin enough to turn Edwin’s usually iron stomach. Once he satisfied his need to take an initial pass over Charles’ body to get the worst of the damp off him, Edwin gestured him toward the chair with a towel laid down on the seat.
“Keep working, love, I’m going to–” He glanced toward the wall dividing the office and the bedroom, before jogging into the other room. He returned with an equally overladen armfull of blankets to deposit on the couch. That done, he moved back to Charles side and began pulling at his own clothes. Shirts, pants, and shoes were quickly discarded in the same direction as the damp towels.
Down to his own smalls, Edwin stepped forward to wrap his arms around Charles’ middle. He held them chest to chest, breathing deep and slow. “Easy, love. Just a few steps to the couch, need to get us bundled up, hm?”
Charles nodded once as Edwin moved to the other room. He dried himself off as best he could, hands trembling. How did he keep getting colder? He leaned down to dry off his legs, then reached for a dry towel to wrap around his shoulders.
And then Edwin returned and he watched as he dropped blankets on the sofa. He stepped to Edwin, dropping his head to his shoulder. "Thank you."
It took him a moment to take the few steps to the sofa. "I'm- yeah. Yeah." He sank down, pulling a blanket to shake out and drape over them as he leaned back into Edwin's side.
Unfortunately, against his side wasn’t close enough to satisfy Edwin’s worry. Ever so carefully, Edwin worked his way until he was sitting in Charles’ lap, with his back to his fiance’s chest. Another blanket was tugged and pulled until it landed properly over their shoulders. The cold against his back was uncomfortable to Edwin, sure. But that only made it all the more alarming to imagine how Charles must’ve been feeling.
“We’ll get you warmed up just now, Charles. I just need you to stay awake with me, alright? Chat with me a bit. How was your day?”
Charles tucked himself into the corner of the sofa as Edwin settled down. He huffed a laugh as Edwin worked his way closer and he made sure to tuck Edwin in blankets as well. He'd hated this part of dying, the bitter cold and the chattering teeth.
"I'll try. But you- if you get too cold, you can move. Bundle up. Something." He would have kissed Edwin's shoulder but he knew his lips would be freezing. Charles tried to focus on the weight of Edwin in his lap, his presence. That helped. "It was- was good. Before this. Read a little. Found some comic books a while back. Aliens and time travel. Then I let Calliope and Tootles out for a bit, spent some time with them."
“I won’t be going anywhere, Charles. Thank you,” Edwin pulled Charles’ arms more tightly around his waist stubbornly. He knew he would have traded the feeling in an instant, if he had been able; at the same time, he knew making any indication he would try to do that would only upset Charles. If all the comfort he could offer was a conversation and his physical presence, he would do his level best with both of those for as long as it took.
“How are they doing? They appear to be getting along better, which is good to see. And I’m glad she’s warmed to you, as I knew she would,” Slow, light touches trailed up and down Charles’ forearms. Edwin was trapped between his hard-earned knowledge of hypothermia treatments (for this exact hypothetical, one of his greatest fears) and his need to comfort the both of them with the easy, distracting contact. Charles had no physical heart to shock with the cold. And every bit of him was so impossibly cold, Edwin couldn’t stand the thought of leaving him in discomfort.
“Has she tried to fly for you, yet? She flapped a bit in the lobby the other morning, it was quite the shock. Her time with Monty is paying off, it looks like,”
"I love you," Charles chuckled softly, the sound low. He shifted a little, wrapping his arms around Edwin as guided and he dropped his chin to Edwin's shoulder.
"They're good. I think Tootles likes having someone to chase, or to have them chase him? Or just.. Play, I suppose." Charles closed his eyes, focusing on the feel of his love's fingers dragging along his skin. It was strange, the sensations he could feel, despite his current state as a ghost. It wasn't quite as muted as usual, but sensations were still dulled.
"She did this morning, actually. She got only about a foot off the ground, but she was in the air a good.. I dunno, two meters?" He was quiet for a moment.
Edwin had canted his head to the side to rest against Charles' while he was speaking. He needed to take his own bit of comfort from their proximity. He chuckled at the idea of their companions chasing each other around the tiny space. “For both their sakes, we may need to find somewhere with more room to run. Perhaps I’ll finally take Bellara’s suggestion and seek out one of those lecture halls. Or the gymnasium may have a space,” If their griffin was starting to try to fly, she would need space to practice without the potential of startling everyone the way Monty had worried after.
The silence was only allowed to stretch for a handful of seconds. Edwin cleared his throat, turning to press his lips to Charles’ icy cheek.
“And this comic you mentioned. Time-traveling aliens? Where were they getting off to?”
"I know they need it. We were outside, so it wasn't so bad, but we can try the lecture hall. Or the gym?" He wasn't sure. Charles smiled softly as Edwin chuckled, and he shifted a little, focusing on the feel of Edwin, the warmth of the blankets around them. "I wish we knew how big she was going to get. She'll be too big for this room eventually, if she keeps it up at this rate."
He hadn't even realized he'd gone silent until Edwin kissed him on the cheek.
"It's strange- it was written almost like a documentary? But illustrated. The alien would just travel to different places and times and planets. It seemed lonely, though. He met people, but he traveled alone."
“Did he find anything interesting? And… why, do you think, would he choose to travel alone? Was it dangerous, what he was doing?” Edwin had to admit, the story did sound sad in a way. But he wasn't sure what else he could use to keep them talking. And the idea did seem to be keeping Charles engaged in the conversation, which was good.
“That is. Sort of how I imagined my afterlife, before I stole you,” Edwin accompanied the last part with a small nudge of his head against Charles'. “Exploring places. Seeing some of the sights I hadn't been able to see while alive,”
"I think he wouldn't take anyone from their home. He moved around so much that he just..met people and then left before he made any real connections, I suppose. He stayed on one world for a few years, but left when- I can't remember what the cause was. I'll find it later, maybe we'll look through it." Charles lifted a shoulder in a shrug, trying to focus.
"You didn't steal me," he insisted, pressing a kiss to the curve of Edwin's shoulder. "I chose you. And we can- can do that more, if you like." Well. If they ever got back. But they'd had some pretty good adventures together so far. "The travel, I mean. You don't ever have to be alone, you know. Not anymore."
The feeling of Charles’ icy lips on his skin did cause Edwin to shiver. At least the reaction was equally due to the interest, as well as the cold. He made a quiet hmph sound of disagreement: “I chose you too. It– perhaps– simply… took me a while longer to realize it. But stealing sounds more fun, doesn’t it?”
As for the travel, well: “Between America and Hell, I was rather content to stick to the Isles for now. Even if it seems that wasn’t a choice for us to be making. Adding this into consideration, and– perhaps we set the passports aside, should we make it back? Unless… had you ever wanted to travel anywhere?”
Charles winced a little when he felt Edwin shiver. He didn't want to make him feel miserable, too, and he leaned his head back against the back of the sofa, sinking into his seat. "Is that how you'd tell it, if we were to go back and write it all down?"
There was a smile in his voice, though, rather liking the thought. "Maybe that's our next project. Just for fun." He laughed softly. "I'd be fine staying home for a bit. I miss the office and London. But- no. Not really. I'd been curious, a little, about India? Where my mum is from. But she never spoke about it, and I have to imagine there was a reason she left."
He fell quiet for a moment. The thought of his mother was still painful- his home life growing up had been less than ideal, and she had done little to protect him from the worst of it. "No, I don't think there's ever really been anywhere I've really yearned for. But we've got time, maybe we'll change our minds someday."
And so Edwin stubbornly followed Charles back into the sofa, clearly unhappy with the space Charles tried to create between the two of them. He didn’t consider the discomfort worth mentioning; he would have, had suffered considerably worse on Charles’ behalf.
“Aren’t you supposed to pen a memoir before you die? What would this be, some sort of… exposé? Sold to a publisher as the first ‘real’ account of an afterlife. If you look past all the lying.” He had to admit, the idea did sound entertaining. And perhaps… if they were to be stuck in the Void for a time, it would be nice, to leave some account of themselves behind. When they made it out.
There was something in the way Charles’ voice faded further still that betrayed his sadness at the idea. Edwin subtly turned to burrow closer to Charles’ side. “We have all the time we want. And… perhaps there will be places in this void worth exploring, some day.”
"It wouldn't be lying," Charles insisted, not terribly surprised as Edwin leaned back into him. Still, he hadn't wanted to make him any more uncomfortable than he already was, with the chill in his bones.
"Lying?" Charles lifted a brow. "Exaggerating, maybe, but I hardly think it'd be lying."
And then Edwin was leaning closer and Charles shifted the blankets a little so he could rest his chin on his fiance's shoulder with the blanket between them to keep him from chilling him any further, and he tightened his hold a little in acknowledgement. It was easier to focus with Edwin closer. "We do. And that- maybe you're right. It's hard to imagine it now, but we've gotta figure out a way to travel more eventually."
“Feels like quite the exaggeration to think I had any clue what to do that night. Let alone enough… confidence to steal you.” No, in Edwin’s version of the memory, he had found himself mostly terrified of death, and– in hindsight, he recognized he was grateful for a companion. At the time, he had mostly agreed ‘until’ they could find somewhere safer to have the argument. How lucky it was for Edwin that by the time he’d felt safe, the argument didn’t appear to be worth having any longer.
Edwin let his hand drift over Charles’ arm, distracted comfort. “I had thought. Perhaps. Offering to work with Captain Barnes to start scouting some of the areas around. Set up a mirror system for us, maybe. It does seem as though there are no more dangers to us here than there were on Earth,” Which wasn’t to say there were none, but it was still far safer for them than it was for the living.
"You knew more than I did," Charles replied simply. "And what you did was perfect. I wasn't alone. It would have been so much worse if I'd spent those days out there alone."
Charles didn't even know how long it was before his body had been found- days, probably. Nobody had come looking for him in the few days it had taken him to die, so he didn't imagine they'd been looking for him any time soon. "You showed me kindness. And that was- I knew. I couldn't leave you."
He nodded, eyes closing as Edwin's hand moved over his arm. "I like that idea. See how many mirrors we can find, set them up in different places. Checkpoints, sort of."
A quiet scoff served to essentially pass over a well-worn argument. Of course he’d known more than Charles had, being the one of them that had experienced death. Edwin realized over time that it was akin to saying a toddler knew more about the alphabet than a goldfish. True, if not actually impressive.
“Of course I wouldn’t have left you. That would have been… cruel,” Even within moments of meeting him, Edwin had known his partner deserved every kindness. For him to have been dying to spare the life of an outsider (someone like Edwin), even though he had no need to. Edwin wanted to show him a similar kindness, yes, but he also wanted to savor the presence of a truly kind man. “We can draft up a version later, and settle one and for all who saved whom, yes?” A frivolous argument to look forward to. Once Charles was feeling better.
“It does seem there are plenty of mirrors in the unused rooms. Perhaps the unused washrooms in the other hall. Easier to source than clocks, I imagine. And… I had spoken to Captain Barnes before, about our ability to travel. So the request won’t be too out of left field, if we have them start looking as well,” A pause, and then: “We’ll look into that once we get you healed, how’s that?”
"I wouldn't have blamed you if you had," Charles replied, his voice soft. He'd known more cruelty in his life than any child should, and even all these years later, there was still sometimes a tiny voice in his mind that reminded him of every horrible thing he'd done, all the deep seated reasons that he didn't deserve all the good he had in his life now.
But he smiled, nodding once. "Yeah, we can do that. Maybe we both write our versions and see how to put them together."
He shifted a little, looking down at his left hand. The ring was still there, bright bands of red and blue against his mottled skin. It made him smile, and he settled again.
"Good plan." Because he had to heal didn't he? He couldn't die, couldn't leave Edwin here on his own. "We'll go out together, though. Buddy system, they said?"
Edwin wanted to contest that: because Charles was too good to ever think poorly of Edwin, or to consider his own needs except as a very last resort. It was that idea that was helping Edwin to accept Charles’ attempt at the potion. He was finally doing something for his own happiness.
“We could make it like that movie, Clue. Publish editions with alternating versions of our cases, and see how long it takes someone to notice,” Edwin was relatively certain at least their cases would sound roughly the same from either perspective. He and Charles were ‘disgustingly’ in sync, to hear the new members of the agency tell it. It may be a fun exercise, to see if the likes of Crystal could tell the difference.
“Of course we’d go together. If you’re willing,” And able, his mind supplied darkly. Charles was staying relatively cogent, but then he had held conversation for almost a full day, the first time. (No, when he’d died. Which he was not doing again. This was… simply some magical misfire.)
“What’s the strangest thing you think we’d find out there?” Edwin reached his free hand around to pull the blanket more tightly around them, to try and trap some more of the warmth.
"I haven't seen that film in years," Charles laughed. "I wonder if Steve's got it in that big box of movies he's been going through. But yeah- yeah, that'd be fun."
He didn't know how different their stories might end up- he couldn't imagine they'd be that different. And sure, maybe it had been..embellished, romanticized, over the years. But it could be fun to see how Edwin saw things.
"Of course I'm willing. I'm not- Edwin, I'd- sometimes it feels like I can't be close enough." He smiled faintly as Edwin pulled the blankets around them. "It sounds like we could find just about anything. But I think- the weirdest might be another version of us."
He smiled as always at the sound of Charles’ laugh, strained though it seemed. “It was a rather charming adaptation. We can ask him if he deigns to take requests.” Edwin tried not to think too hard on why he found himself looking forward to those movie nights. For a self-professed introvert, he found himself enjoying curling up with Charles, surrounded by their friends as they enjoyed a film. It wasn’t quite the same contentment he had like this: alone, skin to (ghostly, frigid) skin. But it was almost as cherished, these days.
“I never meant to suggest you wouldn’t want to be involved, darling, only that you may like something more… involved in the action. That’s all,” Edwin could empathize with the feeling of not being able to settle as close to Charles as he’d like. Briefly, he found himself missing Elysium again. That sense of connection was overwhelming in some ways, but ultimately a comfort.
“Oh, I. You know, that’s… probably true, actually. I wonder what they would be like. Id’ say it would be something looking in a mirror, but…”
"Yeah, that can't hurt." Charles enjoyed the movie nights, too. It reminded him of the dates he wanted to go on when he was alive. But it was better- he had Edwin there, curled up at his side.
"No. That's- I'd rather work with you." He shifted a little, his head on Edwin's shoulder. Another shiver ran through him and he closed his eyes, trying to remember warmth, to center himself here on this sofa, in his moment.
He snorted a laugh. "Like a fun house mirror, I bet. Mostly familiar, but just slightly off."
As close as they were sitting, Edwin felt the tremor in Charles as sure as it had been his own. And, true to form, he shuddered to match out of some ingrained sympathy. It took some maneuvering through the blankets, but Edwin ran a hand through Charles’ hair, tsking quietly at the still-damp curls trying to tangle around his fingers.
First things first: “To think, I’d never considered having to be worried about being… outclassed by myself, of all people. It’s good I got you to agree to marriage when I did, lest you find a better model out there somewhere,” His tone was, decisively, a joke. Even if Edwin felt some nagging sense of worry about the idea, he didn’t want to give it any more credit than a joke would.
Then, to the more serious matter. “It may be time to think of something to warm you better. Or… perhaps we should seek out that doctor?”
"I could never," Charles insisted, tilting his head toward Edwin's touch. "None of them have been through what we have together. Elysium- the Drift- that's something that I don't think- I think it helped us. It helped me, at least. To understand a little more. And you're the one I want."
He sighed. "I don't know what the doctor can do- I don't have any sort of physical form for him to examine. And it's- maybe if I saved energy? I haven't- haven't changed form in a long time, but maybe.. If I didn't keep this shape for a little while?"
“I know you wouldn’t, darling. I was teasing. And– it’s true, I don’t know that I could. I mean of course we could, but. You, exactly as you are. I’m keeping you.” Edwin punctuated the comment with a brief squeeze before he could think better of it. “Sorry. I– sorry,”
As soon as Charles mentioned it, Edwin felt foolish for not considering the notion before. “Oh, I– of course, my love. You don’t… if that will help, I would be happy to watch over you while you recharge. Of course,”
"I like when you call me that," Charles admitted, his voice slow, almost sleepy. "Darling. Your love. And don't ever apologize for your affection, alright? I love you. And I want to spend every day showing you."
He turned his head to yawn, something he didn't do very often as a ghost. "I don't know if it'll help. I just- I'm not ignoring you either, alright? I'm- I'm cold. And I can't focus very well." He went quiet for a moment. "Just- I'll stay with you. But you don't have to stay here, either. If you have things you need to do. And you know I can hear you- I'll respond as best I can."
And then with a pop, his human shape shrank down into a glowing orb, floating up and settling just above Edwin's collarbone. It was still cool to the touch, but not nearly as cold or damp as he had been just moments before.
Edwin sighed at the reproach over his apology. “I will apologize when I worry it may hurt you, darling. I know this can be… irritating. The chill,” But then Charles was starting to noticeably slow down, as he went a bit more lax in Edwin’s arms. On the living, it would be the beginning stages of sleep. For them– “Ah. There you are,”
He ever-so-carefully cupped his palm around the orb at his shoulder, as close to an embrace as he could manage. The feeling was akin to dipping his hand in cold water; bracing, but not unbearable.
“You know, it’s been some time since we visited the Hundred Acre Wood, hasn’t it? Perhaps a bit of an imaginary wander will do us both some good,” Edwin shifted his head just enough to look over to the shelf of books. It was tradition, one of the oldest they had. And yet he was so comfortable on the couch, and he wasn’t interested in moving Charles too much.
His lips curled in a scheming sort of smile as Edwin sat back, gently nudging Charles to rest in the center of his chest as he laid back, eyes drifting closed.
“Once upon a time, a very long time ago now– about last Friday– Winnie-the-Pooh lived in a forest, all by himself, under the name of Sanders. One day, when he was out walking, he came to a place in the middle of the forest, and in the middle of this place was a large oak-tree, and from the top of the tree, there came a loud buzzing noise…”
He had meditated beforehand, even, clearing his mind. The potion was still a vibrant blue, although the smell was a little more floral than last time. He eyed the cauldron, ladling a dose into a glass and he downed it. It was sharp, then sweet, and Charles didn't notice anything- which wasn't unusual, after the last attempts.
Charles was just cleaning up the rest of the mess when the first symptom hit him. He looked down at his hands- his fingers were starting to turn blue, the color bleeding up from his fingertips and toward his palms. He reached for the towel to wipe down the table and his fingers passed through- well. He wasn't corporeal this time, but what had he..?
And then he was shivering. Looking down, he realized that the blue tinge was creeping up his skin, his clothes hanging loose on his frame. They didn't have a mirror for him to see his reflection in, and he reached for his phone, cursing to himself when his hand passed through it again.
It took a lot of concentration for him to lift the phone and get a message sent to Edwin before he sank to the floor beside the desk, pulling his legs up to his chest as he tried to hold onto any bit of heat he could conserve.
Edwin didn’t bother to knock, simply phasing through the door an improbably short time later with little more than a few deep breaths to show for it. He had merely popped across campus to the greenhouse to check in on the weeds, and he could be fast when he chose to be. Edwin didn’t care about the figure he struck as he sprinted across the green. The boys had a system, and not once in their decades of partnership had Charles ever used their codeword without dire need.
“Charles, where–?” He took in the scene in front of him: the ritual supplies still scattered on the desk, some knocked carelessly from their usual position. And then, the sigh of his love huddled near the corner of the desk, with a tremor in his shoulders and a dampness to his hair. But…
No. He couldn’t have–
“Charles.” Edwin was across the room and kneeling in front of his partner in the time it took him to heave a sigh. A steady hand hooked under his chin to turn his (pale, gaunt) face to look Edwin in the eye. “Fuck, love. What happened?”
It was a little easier to focus as Edwin approached, and Charles sighed, tilting his head toward Edwin's touch. He couldn't seem to stop trembling, couldn't help but notice the rattle in his chest-he remembered that feeling. The last time he'd felt any of this, he'd-
Well. He'd died.
It took several tries for his voice to work. "Potion," he finally rasped out, then turned his head to cough into his elbow. "Thought I had it this time. But I'm not- something must have happened."
A glare was directed up at the ritual cloth hanging over the edge of the desk as if it had been the one to harm his love. “You most certainly are not.” Edwin’s mind tried to pull him down the path of analysis over what could have caused Charles’ state; it took him an embarrassingly long time to realize it was simply his mind’s way of trying to avoid the reality of it.
Charles was (or appeared to be) dying all over again.
The sound of that cough shattered something in Edwin’s own chest, drawing out a deep frown and making his hand fall from Charles’ jaw. “Of all the impatient, reckless, stupid things to do! After the conversation we have just had about luck…” Edwin moved that hand up to brush back a wet curl from Charles’ forehead.
"I don't think- I don't have a form," Charles started. "So I'm not-"
Another rattling cough to the side and he closed his eyes when that made him dizzy. "I don't think- I can't die again." Could he? He wasn't going with Death if she arrived. If she could even make it out here.
He closed his eyes at Edwin’s touch. Edwin was right to yell- he knew it was stupid. But he'd wanted to do this for the both of them, especially once Edwin admitted to wanting it, too. And they'd done so well last time. "It should pass. It has to."
“Of course you can’t,” The assertion lacked any sort of confidence; Edwin felt that sharp ache in his chest again, a mirror of how he’d felt the first time he’d found Charles in such a state. Only this time it was worse, because he knew how deep the pain went. How deep his feelings for Charles actually ran. “And it will. Pass,” That, at least, Edwin was able to find some certainty for. Whatever happened, he was hardly going to let Charles
To allow Death to–
No.
With another deep breath, Edwin sat back on his heels so he could shuffle Charles’ overcoat off his shoulders. A flick of his wrists brough the material around Charles’ huddled form, followed quickly by Edwin’s arm. He shifted closer so he could tuck Charles’ head to his chest, hissing at the chill that seeped through his ghostly clothes.
“I’ve got you, love. I’m–” That crack in his voice was not helping anyone. Edwin pursed his lips, choosing silence over trusting his voice for another try.
Charles nodded, leaning into Edwin once the coat was over his shoulders.
"I'm s-sorry," he whispered, teeth still chattering. He hadn't meant for this to happen. He wasn't even sure of what caused this to happen. He'd followed every step as they had written it.
He could feel the damp now, a faint musty smell emanating from- well he couldn't quite tell if that was him or his clothing. "I need to-I should change. Dry off. I'm getting you wet, too."
Edwin could only tut quietly at Charles’ apology. It wasn’t as though he thought his love had anything to really apologize for; of course he hadn’t meant to get himself hurt. But Edwin struggled to brush the apology away; it was all a sorry state of affairs, and one Edwin felt somehow less prepared to handle than any of the other effects they had made for themselves.
A vague worry clenched at Edwin’s chest when Charles mentioned changing. But he was right: they needed to try. “In a minute. Just–” Arms curled that fraction tighter around Charles’ form, holding him closer. He didn’t care about the smell, or the wet. He wasn’t quite ready to break away from Charles.
Only that was selfish of him, wasn’t it? Edwin indulged himself for a count of five, and then forced himself to stand.
“Just… stay there, love. Work on your clothes for me, and I– I can. Find some towels,”
There were some in the supply closet, he knew that. His eyes cut to the door, hesitant to walk back out of the room with Charles in his current state.
Charles closed his eyes, leaning into Edwin's embrace as he felt the arms tighten around him. He nodded once. "Yeah, that's- alright."
And then Edwin stood. "Ye-yes, I can do that." He reached up for the edge of the desk, pulling himself up to stand. It still took considerable effort, but he swayed once on his feet. It took him a moment, setting the coat on the edge of the desk, then he fumbled with his suspenders. It took a little while, but he eventually peeled damp clothes down to his boxers. He continued to shiver, and he raked his fingers through his hair, sending his curls awry.
He all but bolted from the room as soon as he was sure Charles could steady himself on his feet. Edwin maintained his sense of composure enough not to run straight through the other private rooms, but it was a near thing. He returned back through their office door with a tall stack of towels just as Charles was setting the last of his clothes aside.
“Here, love, here–” Edwin surged forward, dropping the towels on the desk for easy access. He wasted no time starting to rub the towel over Charles’ shoulders, down one arm. How Charles was supposed to help with Edwin occupying his space was not something Edwin was willing to stop to consider. Friction, dryness, warmth. That was what Charles needed
Charles was drooping a little, leaning into the desk as Edwin returned. He reached for a second towel, but then Edwin was there, rubbing him down. He wished they had a tub- a hot bath sounded incredible. He looked down- was he getting more blue?- and he started to wipe his other arm, other bits of him as best he could.
"Thank you," he breathed, trying to focus on being present. "I thought- I'd forgotten what this felt like."
“As you should have. I… bollocks,” Edwin was nothing but clinical in the way he worked to dry Charles off. His voice was so thin, the pallor of his skin enough to turn Edwin’s usually iron stomach. Once he satisfied his need to take an initial pass over Charles’ body to get the worst of the damp off him, Edwin gestured him toward the chair with a towel laid down on the seat.
“Keep working, love, I’m going to–” He glanced toward the wall dividing the office and the bedroom, before jogging into the other room. He returned with an equally overladen armfull of blankets to deposit on the couch. That done, he moved back to Charles side and began pulling at his own clothes. Shirts, pants, and shoes were quickly discarded in the same direction as the damp towels.
Down to his own smalls, Edwin stepped forward to wrap his arms around Charles’ middle. He held them chest to chest, breathing deep and slow. “Easy, love. Just a few steps to the couch, need to get us bundled up, hm?”
Charles nodded once as Edwin moved to the other room. He dried himself off as best he could, hands trembling. How did he keep getting colder? He leaned down to dry off his legs, then reached for a dry towel to wrap around his shoulders.
And then Edwin returned and he watched as he dropped blankets on the sofa. He stepped to Edwin, dropping his head to his shoulder. "Thank you."
It took him a moment to take the few steps to the sofa. "I'm- yeah. Yeah." He sank down, pulling a blanket to shake out and drape over them as he leaned back into Edwin's side.
Unfortunately, against his side wasn’t close enough to satisfy Edwin’s worry. Ever so carefully, Edwin worked his way until he was sitting in Charles’ lap, with his back to his fiance’s chest. Another blanket was tugged and pulled until it landed properly over their shoulders. The cold against his back was uncomfortable to Edwin, sure. But that only made it all the more alarming to imagine how Charles must’ve been feeling.
“We’ll get you warmed up just now, Charles. I just need you to stay awake with me, alright? Chat with me a bit. How was your day?”
Charles tucked himself into the corner of the sofa as Edwin settled down. He huffed a laugh as Edwin worked his way closer and he made sure to tuck Edwin in blankets as well. He'd hated this part of dying, the bitter cold and the chattering teeth.
"I'll try. But you- if you get too cold, you can move. Bundle up. Something." He would have kissed Edwin's shoulder but he knew his lips would be freezing. Charles tried to focus on the weight of Edwin in his lap, his presence. That helped. "It was- was good. Before this. Read a little. Found some comic books a while back. Aliens and time travel. Then I let Calliope and Tootles out for a bit, spent some time with them."
“I won’t be going anywhere, Charles. Thank you,” Edwin pulled Charles’ arms more tightly around his waist stubbornly. He knew he would have traded the feeling in an instant, if he had been able; at the same time, he knew making any indication he would try to do that would only upset Charles. If all the comfort he could offer was a conversation and his physical presence, he would do his level best with both of those for as long as it took.
“How are they doing? They appear to be getting along better, which is good to see. And I’m glad she’s warmed to you, as I knew she would,” Slow, light touches trailed up and down Charles’ forearms. Edwin was trapped between his hard-earned knowledge of hypothermia treatments (for this exact hypothetical, one of his greatest fears) and his need to comfort the both of them with the easy, distracting contact. Charles had no physical heart to shock with the cold. And every bit of him was so impossibly cold, Edwin couldn’t stand the thought of leaving him in discomfort.
“Has she tried to fly for you, yet? She flapped a bit in the lobby the other morning, it was quite the shock. Her time with Monty is paying off, it looks like,”
"I love you," Charles chuckled softly, the sound low. He shifted a little, wrapping his arms around Edwin as guided and he dropped his chin to Edwin's shoulder.
"They're good. I think Tootles likes having someone to chase, or to have them chase him? Or just.. Play, I suppose." Charles closed his eyes, focusing on the feel of his love's fingers dragging along his skin. It was strange, the sensations he could feel, despite his current state as a ghost. It wasn't quite as muted as usual, but sensations were still dulled.
"She did this morning, actually. She got only about a foot off the ground, but she was in the air a good.. I dunno, two meters?" He was quiet for a moment.
Edwin had canted his head to the side to rest against Charles' while he was speaking. He needed to take his own bit of comfort from their proximity. He chuckled at the idea of their companions chasing each other around the tiny space. “For both their sakes, we may need to find somewhere with more room to run. Perhaps I’ll finally take Bellara’s suggestion and seek out one of those lecture halls. Or the gymnasium may have a space,” If their griffin was starting to try to fly, she would need space to practice without the potential of startling everyone the way Monty had worried after.
The silence was only allowed to stretch for a handful of seconds. Edwin cleared his throat, turning to press his lips to Charles’ icy cheek.
“And this comic you mentioned. Time-traveling aliens? Where were they getting off to?”
"I know they need it. We were outside, so it wasn't so bad, but we can try the lecture hall. Or the gym?" He wasn't sure. Charles smiled softly as Edwin chuckled, and he shifted a little, focusing on the feel of Edwin, the warmth of the blankets around them. "I wish we knew how big she was going to get. She'll be too big for this room eventually, if she keeps it up at this rate."
He hadn't even realized he'd gone silent until Edwin kissed him on the cheek.
"It's strange- it was written almost like a documentary? But illustrated. The alien would just travel to different places and times and planets. It seemed lonely, though. He met people, but he traveled alone."
“Did he find anything interesting? And… why, do you think, would he choose to travel alone? Was it dangerous, what he was doing?” Edwin had to admit, the story did sound sad in a way. But he wasn't sure what else he could use to keep them talking. And the idea did seem to be keeping Charles engaged in the conversation, which was good.
“That is. Sort of how I imagined my afterlife, before I stole you,” Edwin accompanied the last part with a small nudge of his head against Charles'. “Exploring places. Seeing some of the sights I hadn't been able to see while alive,”
"I think he wouldn't take anyone from their home. He moved around so much that he just..met people and then left before he made any real connections, I suppose. He stayed on one world for a few years, but left when- I can't remember what the cause was. I'll find it later, maybe we'll look through it." Charles lifted a shoulder in a shrug, trying to focus.
"You didn't steal me," he insisted, pressing a kiss to the curve of Edwin's shoulder. "I chose you. And we can- can do that more, if you like." Well. If they ever got back. But they'd had some pretty good adventures together so far. "The travel, I mean. You don't ever have to be alone, you know. Not anymore."
The feeling of Charles’ icy lips on his skin did cause Edwin to shiver. At least the reaction was equally due to the interest, as well as the cold. He made a quiet hmph sound of disagreement: “I chose you too. It– perhaps– simply… took me a while longer to realize it. But stealing sounds more fun, doesn’t it?”
As for the travel, well: “Between America and Hell, I was rather content to stick to the Isles for now. Even if it seems that wasn’t a choice for us to be making. Adding this into consideration, and– perhaps we set the passports aside, should we make it back? Unless… had you ever wanted to travel anywhere?”
Charles winced a little when he felt Edwin shiver. He didn't want to make him feel miserable, too, and he leaned his head back against the back of the sofa, sinking into his seat. "Is that how you'd tell it, if we were to go back and write it all down?"
There was a smile in his voice, though, rather liking the thought. "Maybe that's our next project. Just for fun." He laughed softly. "I'd be fine staying home for a bit. I miss the office and London. But- no. Not really. I'd been curious, a little, about India? Where my mum is from. But she never spoke about it, and I have to imagine there was a reason she left."
He fell quiet for a moment. The thought of his mother was still painful- his home life growing up had been less than ideal, and she had done little to protect him from the worst of it. "No, I don't think there's ever really been anywhere I've really yearned for. But we've got time, maybe we'll change our minds someday."
And so Edwin stubbornly followed Charles back into the sofa, clearly unhappy with the space Charles tried to create between the two of them. He didn’t consider the discomfort worth mentioning; he would have, had suffered considerably worse on Charles’ behalf.
“Aren’t you supposed to pen a memoir before you die? What would this be, some sort of… exposé? Sold to a publisher as the first ‘real’ account of an afterlife. If you look past all the lying.” He had to admit, the idea did sound entertaining. And perhaps… if they were to be stuck in the Void for a time, it would be nice, to leave some account of themselves behind. When they made it out.
There was something in the way Charles’ voice faded further still that betrayed his sadness at the idea. Edwin subtly turned to burrow closer to Charles’ side. “We have all the time we want. And… perhaps there will be places in this void worth exploring, some day.”
"It wouldn't be lying," Charles insisted, not terribly surprised as Edwin leaned back into him. Still, he hadn't wanted to make him any more uncomfortable than he already was, with the chill in his bones.
"Lying?" Charles lifted a brow. "Exaggerating, maybe, but I hardly think it'd be lying."
And then Edwin was leaning closer and Charles shifted the blankets a little so he could rest his chin on his fiance's shoulder with the blanket between them to keep him from chilling him any further, and he tightened his hold a little in acknowledgement. It was easier to focus with Edwin closer. "We do. And that- maybe you're right. It's hard to imagine it now, but we've gotta figure out a way to travel more eventually."
“Feels like quite the exaggeration to think I had any clue what to do that night. Let alone enough… confidence to steal you.” No, in Edwin’s version of the memory, he had found himself mostly terrified of death, and– in hindsight, he recognized he was grateful for a companion. At the time, he had mostly agreed ‘until’ they could find somewhere safer to have the argument. How lucky it was for Edwin that by the time he’d felt safe, the argument didn’t appear to be worth having any longer.
Edwin let his hand drift over Charles’ arm, distracted comfort. “I had thought. Perhaps. Offering to work with Captain Barnes to start scouting some of the areas around. Set up a mirror system for us, maybe. It does seem as though there are no more dangers to us here than there were on Earth,” Which wasn’t to say there were none, but it was still far safer for them than it was for the living.
"You knew more than I did," Charles replied simply. "And what you did was perfect. I wasn't alone. It would have been so much worse if I'd spent those days out there alone."
Charles didn't even know how long it was before his body had been found- days, probably. Nobody had come looking for him in the few days it had taken him to die, so he didn't imagine they'd been looking for him any time soon. "You showed me kindness. And that was- I knew. I couldn't leave you."
He nodded, eyes closing as Edwin's hand moved over his arm. "I like that idea. See how many mirrors we can find, set them up in different places. Checkpoints, sort of."
A quiet scoff served to essentially pass over a well-worn argument. Of course he’d known more than Charles had, being the one of them that had experienced death. Edwin realized over time that it was akin to saying a toddler knew more about the alphabet than a goldfish. True, if not actually impressive.
“Of course I wouldn’t have left you. That would have been… cruel,” Even within moments of meeting him, Edwin had known his partner deserved every kindness. For him to have been dying to spare the life of an outsider (someone like Edwin), even though he had no need to. Edwin wanted to show him a similar kindness, yes, but he also wanted to savor the presence of a truly kind man. “We can draft up a version later, and settle one and for all who saved whom, yes?” A frivolous argument to look forward to. Once Charles was feeling better.
“It does seem there are plenty of mirrors in the unused rooms. Perhaps the unused washrooms in the other hall. Easier to source than clocks, I imagine. And… I had spoken to Captain Barnes before, about our ability to travel. So the request won’t be too out of left field, if we have them start looking as well,” A pause, and then: “We’ll look into that once we get you healed, how’s that?”
"I wouldn't have blamed you if you had," Charles replied, his voice soft. He'd known more cruelty in his life than any child should, and even all these years later, there was still sometimes a tiny voice in his mind that reminded him of every horrible thing he'd done, all the deep seated reasons that he didn't deserve all the good he had in his life now.
But he smiled, nodding once. "Yeah, we can do that. Maybe we both write our versions and see how to put them together."
He shifted a little, looking down at his left hand. The ring was still there, bright bands of red and blue against his mottled skin. It made him smile, and he settled again.
"Good plan." Because he had to heal didn't he? He couldn't die, couldn't leave Edwin here on his own. "We'll go out together, though. Buddy system, they said?"
Edwin wanted to contest that: because Charles was too good to ever think poorly of Edwin, or to consider his own needs except as a very last resort. It was that idea that was helping Edwin to accept Charles’ attempt at the potion. He was finally doing something for his own happiness.
“We could make it like that movie, Clue. Publish editions with alternating versions of our cases, and see how long it takes someone to notice,” Edwin was relatively certain at least their cases would sound roughly the same from either perspective. He and Charles were ‘disgustingly’ in sync, to hear the new members of the agency tell it. It may be a fun exercise, to see if the likes of Crystal could tell the difference.
“Of course we’d go together. If you’re willing,” And able, his mind supplied darkly. Charles was staying relatively cogent, but then he had held conversation for almost a full day, the first time. (No, when he’d died. Which he was not doing again. This was… simply some magical misfire.)
“What’s the strangest thing you think we’d find out there?” Edwin reached his free hand around to pull the blanket more tightly around them, to try and trap some more of the warmth.
"I haven't seen that film in years," Charles laughed. "I wonder if Steve's got it in that big box of movies he's been going through. But yeah- yeah, that'd be fun."
He didn't know how different their stories might end up- he couldn't imagine they'd be that different. And sure, maybe it had been..embellished, romanticized, over the years. But it could be fun to see how Edwin saw things.
"Of course I'm willing. I'm not- Edwin, I'd- sometimes it feels like I can't be close enough." He smiled faintly as Edwin pulled the blankets around them. "It sounds like we could find just about anything. But I think- the weirdest might be another version of us."
He smiled as always at the sound of Charles’ laugh, strained though it seemed. “It was a rather charming adaptation. We can ask him if he deigns to take requests.” Edwin tried not to think too hard on why he found himself looking forward to those movie nights. For a self-professed introvert, he found himself enjoying curling up with Charles, surrounded by their friends as they enjoyed a film. It wasn’t quite the same contentment he had like this: alone, skin to (ghostly, frigid) skin. But it was almost as cherished, these days.
“I never meant to suggest you wouldn’t want to be involved, darling, only that you may like something more… involved in the action. That’s all,” Edwin could empathize with the feeling of not being able to settle as close to Charles as he’d like. Briefly, he found himself missing Elysium again. That sense of connection was overwhelming in some ways, but ultimately a comfort.
“Oh, I. You know, that’s… probably true, actually. I wonder what they would be like. Id’ say it would be something looking in a mirror, but…”
"Yeah, that can't hurt." Charles enjoyed the movie nights, too. It reminded him of the dates he wanted to go on when he was alive. But it was better- he had Edwin there, curled up at his side.
"No. That's- I'd rather work with you." He shifted a little, his head on Edwin's shoulder. Another shiver ran through him and he closed his eyes, trying to remember warmth, to center himself here on this sofa, in his moment.
He snorted a laugh. "Like a fun house mirror, I bet. Mostly familiar, but just slightly off."
As close as they were sitting, Edwin felt the tremor in Charles as sure as it had been his own. And, true to form, he shuddered to match out of some ingrained sympathy. It took some maneuvering through the blankets, but Edwin ran a hand through Charles’ hair, tsking quietly at the still-damp curls trying to tangle around his fingers.
First things first: “To think, I’d never considered having to be worried about being… outclassed by myself, of all people. It’s good I got you to agree to marriage when I did, lest you find a better model out there somewhere,” His tone was, decisively, a joke. Even if Edwin felt some nagging sense of worry about the idea, he didn’t want to give it any more credit than a joke would.
Then, to the more serious matter. “It may be time to think of something to warm you better. Or… perhaps we should seek out that doctor?”
"I could never," Charles insisted, tilting his head toward Edwin's touch. "None of them have been through what we have together. Elysium- the Drift- that's something that I don't think- I think it helped us. It helped me, at least. To understand a little more. And you're the one I want."
He sighed. "I don't know what the doctor can do- I don't have any sort of physical form for him to examine. And it's- maybe if I saved energy? I haven't- haven't changed form in a long time, but maybe.. If I didn't keep this shape for a little while?"
“I know you wouldn’t, darling. I was teasing. And– it’s true, I don’t know that I could. I mean of course we could, but. You, exactly as you are. I’m keeping you.” Edwin punctuated the comment with a brief squeeze before he could think better of it. “Sorry. I– sorry,”
As soon as Charles mentioned it, Edwin felt foolish for not considering the notion before. “Oh, I– of course, my love. You don’t… if that will help, I would be happy to watch over you while you recharge. Of course,”
"I like when you call me that," Charles admitted, his voice slow, almost sleepy. "Darling. Your love. And don't ever apologize for your affection, alright? I love you. And I want to spend every day showing you."
He turned his head to yawn, something he didn't do very often as a ghost. "I don't know if it'll help. I just- I'm not ignoring you either, alright? I'm- I'm cold. And I can't focus very well." He went quiet for a moment. "Just- I'll stay with you. But you don't have to stay here, either. If you have things you need to do. And you know I can hear you- I'll respond as best I can."
And then with a pop, his human shape shrank down into a glowing orb, floating up and settling just above Edwin's collarbone. It was still cool to the touch, but not nearly as cold or damp as he had been just moments before.
Edwin sighed at the reproach over his apology. “I will apologize when I worry it may hurt you, darling. I know this can be… irritating. The chill,” But then Charles was starting to noticeably slow down, as he went a bit more lax in Edwin’s arms. On the living, it would be the beginning stages of sleep. For them– “Ah. There you are,”
He ever-so-carefully cupped his palm around the orb at his shoulder, as close to an embrace as he could manage. The feeling was akin to dipping his hand in cold water; bracing, but not unbearable.
“You know, it’s been some time since we visited the Hundred Acre Wood, hasn’t it? Perhaps a bit of an imaginary wander will do us both some good,” Edwin shifted his head just enough to look over to the shelf of books. It was tradition, one of the oldest they had. And yet he was so comfortable on the couch, and he wasn’t interested in moving Charles too much.
His lips curled in a scheming sort of smile as Edwin sat back, gently nudging Charles to rest in the center of his chest as he laid back, eyes drifting closed.
“Once upon a time, a very long time ago now– about last Friday– Winnie-the-Pooh lived in a forest, all by himself, under the name of Sanders. One day, when he was out walking, he came to a place in the middle of the forest, and in the middle of this place was a large oak-tree, and from the top of the tree, there came a loud buzzing noise…”