Chapter Text
I know that you’re so preoccupied, I shouldn’t even try
But I could make you feel like you’re supposed to
If only for one night
-Skin To Skin, Movements
It’d been two weeks. Two weeks since the explosion, since the oddly specific torture at the hands of a deranged witch.
Since Niko.
Two long weeks and what did Edwin have to show for it? A couple minor mysteries solved, a few ghosts released to their eternal rest, and far too many hours spent staring at the pages of a book without reading a single word. It had never been like this before. Life was…well, lively. Full of emotions and sensations and activity. Death was violent, and hell was agony. And then there was Charles, and the thirty years of single-minded purpose that he brought with him. But this? This was hollow.
The nothingness weighed him down, a constant reminder of what he’d lost. Not just the beautiful friendship he’d shared with Niko, whose kind heart was all too rare in this world, but also the life that was snatched from him at 16 years of age. Edwin spent the past three decades without much thought for the body that had died, but that changed in Port Townsend. There, he’d rediscovered some feelings that had long been repressed, accepted that hidden part of himself, and even confessed to being in love with his best friend. Not to mention the pain forced on him by Esther’s ghost torture machine. Not that he wished for the pain back, of course, but the stark contrast between full-body torment and nothing was unnerving.
Edwin had a clear memory from his early childhood, of watching rain fall in sheets outside his window and crying to his mother about the unfairness of it all – he wanted to be outside, not cooped up in the house all day. She’d pushed the dark hair back from his forehead with a smile and told him that the rainy days just made the sunny ones more beautiful. He’d smiled back, comforted by the simple notion.
One death and a century later, he’d had plenty of rainy days, but not so many sunny. Being a ghost didn’t exactly lend itself to sun – no eating, no drinking, no sleeping, no sensation of touch, no warmth – just a void of physical experience.
Although Charles seemed to make it work, didn’t he? Forget experiencing sun; Charles was the sun. He brought it with him where he went, lighting up rooms even when the people in the rooms couldn’t see him. And he didn’t let the lack of physical sensation slow him down, either. In fact, Charles and Crystal were probably testing the limits of human-ghost fraternization at this very moment…
That was pure speculation, to be fair. Charles and Crystal were far too considerate of Edwin’s feelings to admit to his face that they were romantically involved, but he could tell. He may be a centenarian virgin, but he wasn’t naïve, and he certainly wasn’t obtuse. He could see it in the way Charles’ eyes lit up when he talked about her, and in the way he paced nervously around the office before he was due to pop through the mirror to the Tongue & Tail. Whether it bothered Edwin was a different question entirely, and not one he chose to dwell on. Though, if his sour mood and restless mind were any indication, he wouldn’t have to look too hard for an answer.
No, that wasn’t right. He was happy for Charles. Really, he was. He loved Charles, which meant he wanted him to be happy, even if he was off being happy with a human girl instead of being here with Edwin. It simply made Edwin’s life feel a bit more…empty. Not Charles’ fault. Just an unfortunate side effect of a good thing.
With his open book all but forgotten on the desk in front of him, Edwin watched the mirror in silence, as if he could will Charles back from half a world away. Not for the first time that evening, he wondered what they were doing right now. Was Charles kissing her, “feeling” it in his mind like he’d described before? Was Crystal touching his skin – skin that didn’t know it was being touched? Did Charles have the ghosts of butterflies in his stomach, fluttering at the concept of her touch?
Edwin pressed two fingers to his own lips, remembering Monty’s kiss. It hadn’t felt like anything, obviously, but he didn’t have a reference point for what a kiss should feel like. The only thing he’d felt was surprise, and then embarrassment. It wasn’t what he’d imagined, in the rare instances that he bothered imagining what it might be like. There was none of the “feeling” that Charles described with Crystal, and certainly none of the feeling that teenage boys are “supposed” to feel when they get kissed.
Edwin leaned back in his chair and sighed (a dramatic gesture he’d maintained even after death made breathing unnecessary). He closed his eyes and tried to picture Charles’ face, leaning in for what should have been his first kiss, but a different face popped unbidden into his mind.
The Cat King.
Golden eyes glowing in the dim light, smooth skin draped in bright silk, parted lips leaning in close…
Nope. Absolutely not. Edwin shook his head, as if expecting the physical act to dislodge the thoughts. He hated how cliché it was, to lust after the older, more experienced being who flaunts their sexuality like a fur coat. Yet how many times had he found himself here over these past two weeks? When it was dark and quiet in the office; when Charles was off with Crystal and the books were his only company. That’s when the memories crept back in, and he wondered what would have happened if the Cat King hadn’t snapped that bracelet onto his wrist…
What a fucking mess he was: mourning Niko, in love with Charles, jealous of Crystal, and yearning for a centuries-old magical man-cat. Not exactly what he’d pictured for his afterlife.
He slammed his book shut and stood up suddenly, sending loose papers flying off the desk. He stalked to the nearest bookshelf, grabbed an ancient leather-bound tome, and dropped into an armchair. The surface he chose to sit on didn’t change his comfort – a rigid wooden chair felt the same to him as a plush loveseat – but his mind still recognized the difference. He opened the book and focused on the words, determined to pay attention. Charles would be back in a few hours and potential clients would show up at the door with new mysteries to solve. He’d spent 70 long years in Hell…surely he could spend a few more hours here alone…
▪ ▪ ▪
“Ready?”
The clear, bright voice startled him as it rang out from across the room. Edwin glanced up reluctantly from his book, giving Charles a look that didn’t bother hiding his irritation.
“Is this really necessary?”
“Yes! For the fifth time, yes. It’s necessary.”
Edwin sighed, carefully closed his book, and tried one more plea: “Can’t you two just go by yourselves?”
“Mate,” Charles groaned, dragging out the word and rolling his head back in amused exasperation, “We said we’d both travel with Crystal back to London, didn’t we?” Before Edwin could voice his rebuttal, Charles kept going. “She wants you to come, Edwin. You haven’t seen each other in weeks, seeing as you’ve refused to visit.”
Edwin chewed on that for a moment, not sure how to respond. It was true that he hadn’t been back to Port Townsend since they’d left a couple of weeks ago, but there wasn’t a simple way to explain why. It wasn’t because of Crystal – of that much he was sure. He had missed her (despite the regular twinges of jealousy he got when he thought about her and Charles too hard), and he was excited to have her move into a flat down the street from their office. There was just too much that happened in Port Townsend, and he wasn’t eager to go back, even briefly. Which is why he really didn’t want to make good on his promise to accompany Crystal on her travels.
“There’s just so much that happened there that I don’t…” he tried to explain, but his words got lost somewhere between his brain and the enormous lump in his throat.
Charles softened immediately, a sad smile replacing the annoyance on his face. He was across the room in three long strides, weightless hands gripping Edwin’s shoulders and kind eyes staring straight into his soul.
“I know, mate, I know,” he said, tilting his head down to force eye contact when Edwin tried to look away. “It’s shit, what happened. But it’s going to be quick, and I’m going to be with you every step of the way. I promise.”
How could Edwin say no to that?
Within moments they were standing in front of the mirror, Charles’ expression growing serious in concentration before he grabbed Edwin’s hand and dragged him through to the other side. Just like that, they were in Port Townsend, standing in Crystal’s old room above the Tongue & Tail (or what was left of the Tongue & Tail). Edwin took a moment to get his bearings, to take a mental inventory of his existence. He’d been expecting the worst: dread, anxiety, possible panic. (Edwin didn’t have a functioning circulatory or nervous system, but his brain didn’t always know that. He could still feel his heart rate increase when he was scared, he could feel lightheaded when he got worked up, he could even have a full-blown panic attack.) Luckily, nothing of the sort happened. He looked around, saw the bright smile on Crystal’s face and Jenny eyeing him from the corner. His hand was still clasped tightly in Charles’, who was giving him a look of pure warmth and support.
Suddenly, Crystal was in his personal space, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into an aggressive hug. He let go of Charles’ hand, rather reluctantly, and had the decency to hug Crystal back. It wasn’t so bad, really. And it definitely wasn’t causing tears to well up in his eyes, because that would be utterly ridiculous, not to mention humiliating. He buried his head in her hair and willed the tears away. When she finally pulled back, he was relieved to see that he wasn’t the only one getting emotional.
As quickly as the emotion came, it was replaced with annoyance and she was smacking him on the arm.
“You could have visited!” she said indignantly, but Edwin recognized the teasing smirk on her face.
“It is nice to see you too, Crystal,” he responded calmly.
Crystal rolled her eyes and turned back to Jenny, jerking her thumb in Edwin’s direction. “You see what I have to put up with?”
“Let’s not play the ‘who has to put up with what’ game, okay?” Jenny said, the lack of sympathy evident in her voice. It was good to see her disposition hadn’t softened since the explosion. Edwin admired her sharp edges and sarcasm-drenched personality. “Now that the gang’s all here, can we get this show on the road?”
Edwin didn’t get a chance to hear Crystal’s reply or the bickering that ensued, because Charles was nudging his hand and whispering, “You okay?”
As dark brown eyes stared into his, Edwin felt that phantom heart-racing he’d been expecting earlier. But it had nothing to do with being in Port Townsend, and everything to do with being the sole focus of that intense expression.
A strangled sound and nod of the head were all he could manage, but it must have been convincing enough. Charles grinned, satisfied.
“If that changes, you’ll let me know, yeah?”
“Of course,” he agreed, though he doubted he would need to. He felt fine. Actually, he felt rather silly for having gotten so worked up before. This was just a place, and the bad memories made here lived in his mind, not in the city itself.
“Brills. Then let’s get going.”
Jenny said goodbye to them at the door of the shop with promises to visit London over the summer, and then they were off, heading in the direction of the ferry. It was a nice day, so the long walk was pleasant. They’d made it halfway across town before something small and furry caught his attention from an alley. The cat watched him intently as he passed, and Edwin pretended not to notice. The fact that his phantom heartbeat was suddenly picking up speed was not something he needed to analyze right now. It wasn’t until a few blocks later that he saw two more cats, and then five. They all observed him, tracking his movement through the streets. Edwin stared straight ahead, intent on feigning nonchalance. Charles and Crystal hadn’t seemed to notice, and he wasn’t about to draw their attention to it. He was simply going to ignore it until they were on the ferry, with Port Townsend and its 147 cats left behind.
The docks were in sight now, almost there. The trio rounded a corner and—
There they were. Leaning casually against a lamp post, arms crossed and head carelessly cocked to the side. They were dressed as ostentatiously as ever: dark gold trousers tucked into black combat boots, a tight black turtleneck that didn’t leave much to the imagination, and slicked back hair that was carefully crafted to look perfectly natural. And those eyes…golden and glowing out from under curious eyebrows. When they spoke, it was in the same deep, unaffected American accent that Edwin remembered all too clearly.
“You weren’t going to come all this way and not say hello, were you?”
Dark, slitted pupils locked onto his, asking the same question even more clearly than simple words could allow. Edwin’s stomach twisted in his gut, torn between irritation at the Cat King’s persistence, excitement that the they still cared enough to seek him out, and shame at himself for caring at all. Before he could formulate a response cleverer than stuttered vowels, Charles stepped defensively between them.
“What are you doing here?” Charles spat. In hindsight, Edwin probably should have told him what really happened with the Cat King, but as it was, Charles knew only what he’d speculated. Which was obviously enough to have him sprinting to Edwin’s defense.
The Cat King, however, was unphased. They titled their head, eyes roaming Charles’ corporation in a bored assessment. “Who are you, again?”
Charles’ shoulders tensed in anger, but he only took a moment to compose himself. “I’m Edwin’s best mate, is who I am. And I’m not going to let you mess with his head again, am I?”
The Cat King appraised Charles for another moment, then made a noncommittal noise in the back of their throat. They turned their gaze back to Edwin, silent and expectant.
Edwin couldn’t handle another second of whatever this was. Clearing his throat, he addressed his friends. “Charles, Crystal. I will only be a moment.”
Two heads whipped around to gape at him incredulously.
“You don’t have to go anywhere with them!” Charles said at the same time Crystal said, “No way!”
Edwin could see the smirk on the Cat King’s face in the background, and he hated the way it flustered him. He focused instead on his friends, giving each a reassuring smile in turn.
“It’s okay, honestly. I can handle myself.”
“Edwin, no,” Charles started to protest, but Edwin cut him off.
“Charles. I am fine. Please.” He dropped his chin and raised his brows in an expression that brokered no debate. Charles and Crystal exchanged an uneasy look but didn’t press the issue.
“I’m not going far,” Charles whispered as he and Crystal started back in the direction they’d come from, rounding the corner and disappearing from view. Edwin watched them go, then steeled his nerves and turned sharply on his heel to face the Cat King.
“That was not nice.”
“I’m sorry,” the Cat King said, their smirk morphing into an exaggerated pout. “I admit I’ve been cranky lately. Perhaps you can find it in your heart to forgive me?” As they spoke, they straightened up from the lamp post and stalked towards Edwin, their movements undeniably feline. They stopped a mere foot away, close enough that Edwin had to look down to meet their steady gaze. He cleared his throat, clenched his fists to stop his hands from trembling, tried not to glance down at the Cat King’s lips – parted slightly and turned up at one corner, looking soft and inviting.
“What do you want?”
“I think I’ve made myself clear on that point already.”
Edwin licked his lips instinctively, then cursed himself as he watched the Cat King’s eyes shamelessly follow his tongue’s movements.
“I, uh—”
“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?”
Edwin swallowed thickly. He tried to be annoyed by the Cat King’s self-satisfied grin, but he was finding it quite difficult to feel anything beyond the thrill of being desired.
“I did not come back here to see you,” he finally managed.
“You wound me, Edwin.” But the smirk was still there. “It is surprising, though.”
Edwin couldn’t resist the bait. “What is surprising?”
The Cat King paused dramatically before explaining, “You admitted yourself that you’re lonely. Yet you follow Charles around like a puppy dog, when I could give you so much more.”
That crossed a line, and indignation flared in Edwin’s chest, but curiosity won out. “What are you talking about?”
The Cat King took another small step forward, until their bodies were almost flush. They reached a steady hand towards Edwin’s face, their fingers hovering centimeters away. Golden eyes watched him patiently, waiting for permission. Edwin nodded once, anticipation fizzing in his gut. Soft, warm fingers made contact with his skin, applying gentle pressure. Edwin gasped, tears immediately pricking the back of his eyes. It wasn’t the sharp sting of a cat’s claw or the white-hot pain of iron; it was just…touch. Real, living touch. A feeling he thought he’d only ever experience again in dreams. His mind was reeling; he blinked back tears and struggled to find any words at all. All the while, the Cat King studied him without judgement, giving him time to adjust to the long-forgotten sensation. When they finally spoke, it was with a surprising air of kindness.
“I’m a magical being, remember?” As if that explained everything. As if Edwin’s (after)life hadn’t just turned upside-down.
Suddenly it was too much: the steady warmth of fingers against his cheek, the inviting look in the Cat King’s eyes, the understanding in their words. Edwin jerked back, and they withdrew their fingers immediately.
“I, erm, need to go. My friends are waiting.”
If the Cat King was disappointed, they didn’t show it. They nodded their head and took a step back, clasping their hands behind their back. They stared at each other in silence for a long moment before the Cat King turned and headed off down an alley. They looked back over their shoulder as they went.
“There’s a mirror in the cannery,” they stated casually, “if you change your mind.”
And then they were gone – down the alley and out of sight. And Edwin was left with his mouth hanging open and the lingering warmth of touch on his cheek.