Edwin Payne (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
technicallyhellbound) wrote2025-02-14 06:37 pm
technicallyhellbound) wrote2025-02-14 06:37 pm
for @convincingsmile - Nobody's dying today (probably)
Edwin knew as soon as he fell through the mirror that something was wrong, and not just a little bit wrong, but the kind of wrong that made the whole world tilt on its axis a little.
It wasn't a misdirected portal, not like the case that had ultimately led them to Crystal, not like many other failures of concentration when traversing mirror portals before, it was something else, and he couldn't place what it was. All he knew was that he'd simply passed through the mirror in question and had landed, hard on the floor on the other side of the room, hard enough that he actually skidded a couple of feet and that couldn't be right because that actually hurt, and hurt in the way he hadn't felt in... well, decades.
It was enough to tumble him against the far wall just from his own momentum, impacting hard enough to knock the breath out of his lungs, and that was definitely wrong, because he shouldn't have had breath or lungs. He could see, even through pain-hazed vision that the poltergeist he'd been baiting had, indeed, gotten caught in the trap he himself had leapt over when aiming for the mirror.
That was, however, the last thing he saw before the half-rotted-through loft floor gave way beneath his sudden and unexpected weight, sending him falling, flailing, scraped to ribbons on the broken slats, to the ground below, and he was reasonably sure he'd actually heard something snap on impact, ribs, if the sudden radiating pain was anything to go by, though his shoulder wasn't in good shape either, and that was an entirely different kind of pain, just layering on top of the feeling of the ragged scratches from the wood, and it occurred to him, dimly, that he'd forgotten how much he hated the feeling of blood on his skin.
It had been different in Hell, the pain, the sensations in general, all of it, it had been horrible, yes, but it was so much more visceral now, and even as his vision began to go hazy again, head swimming, his last thoughts were trying to remember how he'd somehow gotten separated from Charles, who had been barely a step behind him when he'd rounded the corner into the loft pursued by the poltergeist now trapped securely above him.
It wasn't a misdirected portal, not like the case that had ultimately led them to Crystal, not like many other failures of concentration when traversing mirror portals before, it was something else, and he couldn't place what it was. All he knew was that he'd simply passed through the mirror in question and had landed, hard on the floor on the other side of the room, hard enough that he actually skidded a couple of feet and that couldn't be right because that actually hurt, and hurt in the way he hadn't felt in... well, decades.
It was enough to tumble him against the far wall just from his own momentum, impacting hard enough to knock the breath out of his lungs, and that was definitely wrong, because he shouldn't have had breath or lungs. He could see, even through pain-hazed vision that the poltergeist he'd been baiting had, indeed, gotten caught in the trap he himself had leapt over when aiming for the mirror.
That was, however, the last thing he saw before the half-rotted-through loft floor gave way beneath his sudden and unexpected weight, sending him falling, flailing, scraped to ribbons on the broken slats, to the ground below, and he was reasonably sure he'd actually heard something snap on impact, ribs, if the sudden radiating pain was anything to go by, though his shoulder wasn't in good shape either, and that was an entirely different kind of pain, just layering on top of the feeling of the ragged scratches from the wood, and it occurred to him, dimly, that he'd forgotten how much he hated the feeling of blood on his skin.
It had been different in Hell, the pain, the sensations in general, all of it, it had been horrible, yes, but it was so much more visceral now, and even as his vision began to go hazy again, head swimming, his last thoughts were trying to remember how he'd somehow gotten separated from Charles, who had been barely a step behind him when he'd rounded the corner into the loft pursued by the poltergeist now trapped securely above him.
no subject
His arm curled more securely around Charles' waist, keeping him close, "I don't suppose I thought of it that way." He shook his head just a little, settling once more, but keeping that arm looped around his partner even as he explained, "If... well, if I hadn't been sacrificed, I likely would have died in the war, and if I'd somehow survived that, the best I could have hoped for was an amicable sort of marriage to a woman I hopefully liked well enough, maybe we could have been friends but likely wouldn't have actually loved each other. Would have been expected to have an heir to the family name, maybe live off my military pension, maybe take on a management role at a factory or a textile mill somewhere, but nothing more than that."
Another little head-shake, settling himself against Charles' side more comfortably, "So while this has been a lovely time, it was... it was a vacation rather than anything that might have been."
no subject
"'S really sad to think about it like that," he murmurs. Just thinking about Edwin dying in a war... he got flashback of him in Hell. I was sad that Edwin's death gave him a chance to a better existence. Or... something... different. A chance. "I wish I could've showed you it could be better, mate."
Once again, Charles had to realize that Edwin was not entirely a boy who died; he was a ghost. A truly supernatural entity, leaving his human nature and all thoughts of life behind. He wondered if he was ever going to be like that...
"'M still glad we've met," Charles added quietly. "Even if it was in death, yeah?"
no subject
He didn't know what -or who- he would be, but the undeniable truth was that Charles had changed him for the better, and would probably continue to do so for the duration of their existence.
"But I can tell you what I wouldn't be." Even as he considered saying it, something nervous built in his chest, tongue darting out over his lower lip, "I wouldn't be happy."
no subject
Oh. Oh... His hand went to caress Edwin's cheek.
"You're happy with me?" he asked, even if Edwin just said it. But, right... Charles knew they were happy together, he felt it every day. And yet, hearing it out loud still made his heart swell.
no subject
He was generally a little more tactful with Charles than he was with others, but that didn't negate the fact that he would have mentioned it if he were unhappy with their arrangement.
no subject
"'S just good to hear it, innit?" Charles shrugged. Then he leaned in to kiss Edwin's lips.
no subject
There was definitely one advantage to kissing as ghosts, and that was that he didn't have to break away to breathe, one hand sliding along Charles' jaw to the nape of his neck, and then up into the softer hair there, keeping him close, not ready to draw away just yet.