technicallyhellbound | for @convincingsmile - Nobody's dying today (probably)

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.

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"Right, cushion, good idea," Charles said a little sheepishly. He forgot how hard the floor could be for a living after all. But being reminded also delighted him somehow. Then he chuckled softly. He had been stifling a few yawns here and there after their shower after all. But he didn't want to sleep, he wanted to have as much time alive and conscious as possible.

"You know I'm always up for some Cluedo. One day, I'm also gonna beat you," he chuckled, already heading for the closet. "Maybe today!"

Edwin's laugh was warm and amused without being at all unkind, it was the laugh that Charles got from him more than anyone else ever did, and he nodded, making sure the desk was cleared for the game board, "Perhaps. I suggest picking the one you think you're most likely to beat me at, in that case."

Not that it mattered, they played them all the same way with only slight variations due to regional or edition specifics, "Perhaps we can talk Crystal around to playing with us again sometime. It was... refreshing to have another person at the table." And as much as she'd argued how stupid the rules were, she'd still played, and Edwin was reasonably sure she'd enjoyed herself.

"Nah mate, I don't want your handouts, I'll beat you in the classic game!" Charles shouted from the closet as he got the game. He carried it out with a grin. Having Crystal playing games with them was brills. She was just as fierce about it as Edwin and watching them go at it was making Charles's week. "Next time let's invite her for sure. Maybe make it mandatory after a successful case?" he suggested playfully, placing the Cluedo on the desk.

He couldn't help but laugh again at the response, the teasing vehemence in it, just nodding as Charles returned, considering the stipulation, "It could work, though honestly we've more successful ones than unsuccessful, it just sometimes takes longer than expected, so for every closed case, perhaps?"

Closed wasn't necessarily the same as successful, because sometimes they had to close a case that had been unsuccessful, and sometimes the successful ones were still open, "I don't know if it will work of course, but it's worth trying." He added, already shuffling and dealing the cards, slipping their case cards into the evidence envelope and setting it aside, just leaving Charles to set up the board in the meantime.

"'S fine by me, I'm always chuffed to see you two play," Charles shrugged with a smile, setting the board and handing out their usual figures.

However, as it was expected, Charles was once again too distracted by everything than to pay proper attention to the game after a while. He also had to realize that his body does not go on endlessly as when he was a ghost. He was trying to fight the sleepiness and the fatigue that claimed his muscles and pay attention to which tool was used but it became his doom. He truly forgot how tired a living person could get...

Truthfully, it was only Edwin's meticulous note-taking that saved him, and he almost made his final accusation of a character that had already been cleared, catching himself at the last minute with the correct one.

He did laugh about it, however, as he sorted the cards back into their usual decks for storage, "I forgot what it was like to be this tired." He commented mildly as he put the lid back on the box, mostly he was trying to catalog the difference between the sort of tired he was at the moment and the bone-deep exhaustion that had been the norm in Hell.

But he wasn't going to dwell on it too long, instead just stretching gingerly and moving to the couch, wrangling one of the flat cushions free to pass over to Charles.

Colonel Mustard will rise one day, Charles was sure of it. But they had an eternity to make that happen, he thought amused.

He reached for the cushion but slowly put an arm around Edwin in the same motion, pulling him close.

"Today was fun, eh?" he asked. "And tomorrow's gonna be fun too," he added in a small smile. He couldn't believe it. He was tired, truly tired. And they will watch a movie the next day. Charles suddenly wished Edwin found the cure fast because the more he spent alive, the less he wanted to die. The less he thought he could do good on his promise to be by Edwin's side... and that scared him.

Edwin couldn't help but lean forward into that embrace, nodding at the question, "It... well, it wasn't so terrible as I'd been expecting." A faint twitch of a smile caught at one corner of his mouth, "Which I suppose means that it was fun, after a fashion."

His brow creased a moment later, "We really are going to have to figure something else out as far as sleeping arrangements if this goes on much longer." A gentle smile followed, giving Charles' shoulder a squeeze, "Can't very well have my protector getting a cramp or not being fully rested, right?"

"You're getting used to it, eh?" Charles teased playfully. Then he laughed at the mention of proper sleeping arrangements. "Right, wouldn't mind some mattress to lay on, yeah. But if we gonna do this I want to also hold you while we sleep," he said pointedly. A bed definitely didn't fit in the office. And yes, he would be fine with a camping bed but... "Is that too much?" he asked in a sheepish grin.

"Everything still aches, don't misunderstand that, but it's... it's bearable. It's the rest that isn't so awful. Just the, you know, whole mess of it all." Eating, sleeping, showering, even just breathing wasn't as bad as he remembered, even with the ribs. But then, he was also with people who actually cared about him, now, and that made quite a lot of difference.

He couldn't help but smile at the question, shaking his head, "No, not too much at all. I'd... well, I'd quite like the same, if I'm being honest." There was some sort of realization trying to spark in the back of his mind, and he knew it, some shapeless question that he felt he should be asking but couldn't quite grasp what it was, though he could chalk it up to being tired and go from there.

"I should have at least the first steps to correcting the issue tomorrow, though, before we leave for our outing." He was pretty sure he had that much information squared away already, it was just a case of putting it together in the right order.

"Right, wasn't talking about the injury," Charles said with a small shake of his head. But he was glad Edwin was getting used to having a body, even if it hurt. Because many things could be done with a body. He also felt like forgetting something but he figured it mustn't have been important. Edwin was more important after all. So Charles reached for him again to kiss his lips.

"Right, big day tomorrow then?" he said softly. "A date and... progress with a case."

He couldn't help but return that kiss in kind, just dipping his head to do so, brow resting against Charles' briefly once the kiss broke, nodding briefly at the question, "Indeed."

He pulled the lighter-weight afghan off the back of the sofa to drape across Charles, rummaging around on the bottom shelf of the bookcase half-full of supplies before coming up with a heavier quilt for himself.

He hesitated briefly before giving Charles another quick kiss, as if he couldn't bear not to do so, "Sleep well, Charles." It was mostly just a reminder that Charles didn't have to stay awake to make sure Edwin didn't slip into a nightmare. Mostly because Edwin was reasonably sure that he wouldn't actually do so, and even if he did, Charles would know and rouse enough to wake him from it.

Charles pulled the blanket around him as he watched Edwin search for the other one. He felt his chest so full and heavy with a heartbeat, that he could almost burst out crying.

"You too, mate," he sighed and sat down to find his place by the couch, lying on the floor. Charles was sure he was not going to sleep, however. He wanted to look out for Edwin but he still also wanted to feel his alive body. Though the thing with alive bodies were that they needed sleep. So the moment his head hit the cushion, Charles was out. And he dreamed.

He dreamed of food, of eating. He tasted it too. Charles dreamed of running and feeling his lungs burn. He dreamed of holding and kissing Edwin, and then he dreamed of his father and his rage... It was the one that shook him awake, filling his stomach with nostalgia of something he didn't really miss.

It was still the watery grey light of pre-dawn gloom, and while Charles' movement hadn't fully roused Edwin from his own -thankfully dreamless- sleep, it had still been enough to draw him to a sort of drowsy wakefulness, just disentangling a hand from the quilt, turning over on his side so that he could grip Charles' shoulder gently before dropping back off to sleep himself with a murmur that was probably some fashion of 'it's alright' as he did, though it definitely wasn't all the right syllables.

He would be easy enough to wake if Charles didn't slip back off himself, but would likely be out for another hour otherwise, healing took energy, and even if he hadn't been out and about the way Charles had been the day before, he had still been at his limit for energy by the end of the day.

Charles jumped when he felt the touch on his shoulder, but quickly realized it was Edwin. He listened for the murmured words, and the breathing after it, then gave a relieved sigh. He didn't want to wake Edwin, especially not with something trivial as a nightmare. Though he couldn't go back to sleep. He stayed there a little, contemplating but in the end, he decided to get up. He gave a feather-light kiss to Edwin's hand that attempted to soothe him and placed it back on the couch before he got his coat to take a walk. He wanted to fetch a sweet breakfast for Edwin either way. While the cafe close by was still closed, Charles found a grocery store open 0-24 fairly nearby for some bites. And an energy drink. While Crystal flat out forbade him to drink one she wasn't there to talk sense into him.

It took him a bit but he arrived back, quietly in case Edwin was still asleep, or still needed time to rest. But now they had pastries again.

Edwin was only just waking when Charles returned, which was probably for the best as he would most certainly have jumped to the wrong conclusion if he woke to find Charles gone.

As it was, however, he just smiled at Charles' return, stretching, wincing briefly as it tweaked his shoulder, settling again almost immediately, kneading at it even as he greeted: "Already off and about with errands at this hour?"

Not that it was all that early any more, but the statement wasn't a jab at all, if anything it was warmly amused, as was the follow-up: "You've really taken to this like a fish to water, as the saying goes."

Charles grinned when he saw Edwin wake up walking in. He quickly put everything down on the desk before approaching his friend, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

"Better get your sugar early so you can work, eh?" he said, though it was truly just an excuse to air his head. He just chuckled at the remark. There was no denying it, he loved being alive. He loved feeling tired, he loved to take a walk and feel the air on his skin. He loved it all. Even the dreams and the nightmares... And he also loved to feel Edwin in a more alive way. "Did you sleep well?" he asked a little apologetic. He would have felt horrible if Edwin would wake from a nightmare and he was out trying to get rid of his own demons.

"Yes, quite, thank you." He wasn't sure how he'd avoided nightmares for two nights running unless it was simply the exhaustion, though he would suspect that would actually make it worse as he'd be too tired to fight the dreams if they came. But he also wasn't going to argue it, for now.

Edwin had to remember once again to use his good arm to lever himself upright, stretching again far more carefully than before, "I do appreciate your playing gofer for everything." For one thing, Edwin himself would only have the barest idea where to look for things. Oh he knew how shops worked, of course, it was just that they weren't as localized or specialized as they had been in his day, it seemed most places had a little of everything, which seemed both convenient and confusing at once.

"But that's what I always do, innit?" Charles chuckled, sitting on the edge of the couch as Edwin sat up. He watched him stretch, wincing a little as he saw the movement. Edwin was still in pain, huh. So Charles reached to pat his leg. "You don't have to get up just yet, you know. You can have breakfast in bed, if you want."

"Yes, I suppose it is one of your usual tasks, yes." He agreed with a half-sheepish little smile, and the barest pause before adding, "And that may be for the best, actually. Meant to be conserving energy for this evening's outing after all."

He was doing his best not to hate the fact that he was still in pain, that low-level, constant ache that hadn't yet begun to ease, trying not to hate the fact that it was slowing him down, and that he was absolutely going to have to factor in more time for the walk to the theatre than he originally had, since he'd initially calculated the walk at his usual speed, and he definitely wasn't at that at the moment.

Charles was half-ready to push Edwin back on the couch if he insisted on getting up. So he was pleasantly surprised that he chose to stay.

"On it," he grinned all too widely, reaching to pat Edwin's shoulder in a lingering touch before getting up to fetch the food.

Charles got a small box to serve as an improvised table for them, and got one of the chairs from the desk to sit. He put all the pastries out for Edwin.

"'S good we won't stay like this long, otherwise we ought to transform the whole place, yeah? Or get a new one," Charles joked.

His mouth twisted just slightly at the joke, because the truth of it was, even with what he'd worked out so far, he was still working on incomplete information, and wasn't sure he'd actually be able to reverse it. There was a good chance that he'd have to make some of it up and hope for the best, and he wasn't sure that was even worth the risk.

But he nodded all the same, managing a small smile, "Well if it were permanent we'd no longer be a detective agency, so there would be no reason to keep the office set up as it is in that case. Could change it as we like, turn ourselves into a consulting firm or something to that effect."

Charles caught the momentary grimace on Edwin. He tensed his mouth for a moment as he was thinking how the research was going slower than he thought, apparently. Or not as expected. And Charles felt a little guilty for being glad about it. Then he fell silent when Edwin was talking about a future of them being alive, and maybe doing something other than being detectives. Once again, Charles wasn't sure how he felt about it all.

"A consulting firm, huh?" he smiled a little sadly, looking around. "I'd miss it though, this place. I miss our previous one too," he shrugged, trying to soften it. "But it's gonna be fine, Edwin, you're gonna figure it out, yeah? We can come back here in a couple of days as ghost," he chuckled.

"I don't know about you, but I'm not about to let thirty years of experience go to waste." That one almost made it to being a joke, but still fell short, and he did stop himself from picking one of the pastries to bits instead of eating it, only barely managing to keep from pressing his knuckles together instead, "I'm sure I'll get it, it's just... it's taking longer than I expected, that's all."

Partly because he actually needed to sleep, now, and couldn't work sixteen hours straight through like he usually did, "And having to work with a secondhand translation isn't making things any faster."

Edwin, always practical, Charles thought fondly as he watched him. He reached to cover Edwin's hand assaulting the pastry with his, squeezing lightly.

"Yeah, 's gonna be fine," he repeated to drill into Edwin's thick head. "Is there anything I can do? Like, going back, checking some things again? Maybe there could be clues in the house. It was mostly empty, though," he frowned as he remembered. "Aside from that portrait of a dead woman."

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