Fanfiction: The Hour of Separation - Chapter Twelve

[bloody_hellfire]

The Hour of Separation - Chapter Twelve

Edwin thought he would feel better knowing that Charles's father was gone, but that wasn't the case. He didn't feel better, not even a little, because even though he was no longer of this world, there were effects that Edwin desperately wanted to see gone. Charles's eyes were too dull; he was flinching at loud noises, and Edwin could only imagine the things that were going through his partner's head right now. He rechecked the iron wound to make sure that Quentin wasn't lying and Charles was about to vanish on him, but it was already healing. Charles said he was fine when Edwin prodded him about his state of being. They leaned heavily on each other as they walked back out into the main room and saw Johanna sitting on the ground.

She looked exhausted in a painfully human way, and it was a reminder that while she was powerful, she was a member of the living and not like either of them. Johanna looked up when they walked into the room and began to push herself to her feet.

"He got away?" she asked.

"Yes, but only because he made me think Charles was in grave danger, and I had to choose between stopping him or helping Charles," Edwin replied. "The wound looks like an iron burn that is just deeper and more painful than usual, but nothing else. Is that correct?" Johanna leaned down and picked up the iron blade. She began to look it over and hummed to herself.

"Yes, this is just an enhanced iron blade and not much else. Made to hurt but not to kill," she said, which was a relief. "I need to go and check in with the person who is paying me, but you boys should go check in with Hob and see if he has found anything about your little stalker friend. You should also ask if you can hide out there too; the place is warded and protected to hell and back because the 'mutual friend' we share is a paranoid asshole."

"Thank you," Charles said. It was clear he was thanking her for more than just the information about where they could go to be safe, but all of this seemed to have stolen Charles's words. "When he was leaving, did he--"

"He said nothing of value to you or anyone else," Johanna interrupted.

"We thank you for your help," Edwin said, but she waved him off. The three of them left the house, and Johanna went off down the street to find the person who hired her while Edwin began to search for a place with a mirror. It didn't take that long. There was a clothing shop with a mirror just down the road, and they could mirror-hop to a cafe not far from The New Inn. "He said that the 'grand finale' is coming. I did not get to speak with him very long, but that is what he said to me."

"So this is ending one way or another," Charles replied. "This has all been so dramatic, isn't it? Like something out of a bad movie."

"I suppose so, but drama only works when the plot makes sense, and you understand the characters' motivations. This isn't even a mystery; he's not leaving clues in any way that anyone could ever solve the case, and I get the impression he does not want us to solve anything." Edwin frowned as The New Inn came into view. "He said that we ruined his life and cost him everything, correct?"

"Yeah, that was what he said, that he was taking everything from us," Charles replied. "If he's working under some notion of poetic justice, then I guess he's taking everything from us too."

"Jenny no longer wants to associate with us, Thomas has all but banned us from ever going to Port Townsend again, Niko and Crystal both had things happen in their personal lives to take them away from London, and we had to stop taking cases and leave the agency when he broke in so that wasn't safe anymore. So he also took the Dead Boy Detectives from us," Edwin said.

"My dad was a fucking arsehole, what did killing him take away from me?" Charles asked. Edwin thought about the tension in Charles's shoulders, the flinching, the dead look in his eyes, and the way the words that his father spoke would likely be echoing in his mind for days, weeks, maybe even years. The way he knew that Charles was blaming himself for his father's death even though it was not his fault in any way. Edwin reached out and stopped Charles with a gentle hand on his arm so he could look his partner in the eye, and Charles flinched. He probably didn't even realize he was doing it.

"Your sense of peace, I believe he was trying to take your sense of peace," Edwin whispered. Charles stared at nothing for what felt like a very long time until he nodded.

"Yeah, I think he accomplished that," Charles whispered. Edwin took his partner's hand and entwined their fingers together. Charles held on tight, and Edwin let him. "Then you're his next target, Edwin; what will he try and take from you?" Edwin knew what his first thought was and what would hurt the most if he lost it was standing right in front of him. However, he also remembered what Johanna said about the runes probably not working the way Quentin wanted them to, and he couldn't see a way to separate them that would be a guarantee. He didn't think Quentin would leave that to chance. Edwin wasn't sure what the next thing was or how someone with Quentin's skills could accomplish something like this, but he refused to think that way.

"I won't let him take anything else from us, I promise," Edwin said. Charles didn't look like he believed Edwin, which was hard to see, but he didn't say anything. They continued to The New Inn and phased through the door. The pub was open this time, but no one reacted as they walked inside. Hob didn't appear anywhere downstairs, so Edwin guided Charles up the stairs and to the door of the flat they had seen earlier. It said a lot about Hob's nerves that he didn't even react when they phased through; he just looked up and smiled.

"Boys, how did it go?" he asked.

"It went as well as it could have," Edwin replied. "Johanna said that she needed to meet with the client that hired her, but I do not know what her plans are beyond that."

"She's coming back," Hob said as he gestured to his phone. "She texted me and said that she was on her way. I told her that since she just got paid, that meant it was her turn to buy dinner, and she told me to fuck off. So, I'm taking that as she's fine." Edwin didn't know what to make of their dynamic, but they needed to start looking into these case files and making some sort of headway there.

"Have you found anything yet?" Edwin asked. A box was set to one side, and a pile of cases was on the table.

"Not yet." Hob sat back in his chair and frowned as he looked at the boxes scattered around his room. "I thought, for a second, that I might be on to something or at least coming up with a way to make this easier. This guy is alive, as you both said, and you told me about how old he was, so I thought that would narrow down the time. The thing about magic users is that they can find weird ways to live for a very long time, and being alive doesn't mean he's mortal. I'm alive but not mortal, so that was a dead end."

"It was a good idea," Charles said. "It's pretty aces that you can't die, though. What's it like?" There were many times in Edwin's afterlife that he didn't miss being alive. There wasn't anything waiting for him in that life aside from a loveless marriage or his corpse cooling on the battlefield of one of the world wars. He was happier being dead than he ever was alive, but Charles didn't always think that way. Edwin tried not to take it personally when Charles mentioned that he missed being alive because it wasn't some sort of commentary on their relationship or their never meeting. Just because Charles missed being alive didn't mean he wished he was living in a world where they weren't together.

"Yes, perhaps your inability to die has something to do with our case," Edwin said. Hob was in a chair in the living room while Edwin sat next to Charles, close enough that they were touching. His partner still seemed very far away, and Edwin hoped his being close would be grounding. It was also the first time he thought of what was happening to them as a case.

"It's not," Hob said, and he sounded pretty sure about that. He must have seen the trepidation on Edwin's face. "Johanna was right that I don't get to talk about this very often, but the easiest way to describe it is that Death is giving me a pass." Edwin froze, and he could feel that Charles wasn't moving either. If Hob was directly connected to Death, just being around him like this was a massive risk. Edwin tried to weigh the pros and cons of grabbing Charles and running for the nearest mirror; their case files be damned. Hob must have noticed their expressions because he looked up from the case file; he was looking over and frowned. "Why do you two look like you're about to faint?"

"We don't want to see Death, ever," Charles said carefully. "If we see her, she'll separate us; we can't let that happen." Hob must have heard the dangerous tone of Charles's voice because he put up his hands like he was trying to appease them.

"I've spoken to her directly once, and that was it, I promise," Hob replied, but he did hesitate like he knew they wouldn't like what he would say next. "I am, I guess, affiliated with her brother though, Dream of the Endless."

"You are connected to the Endless," Edwin whispered. He thought back to being in hell and that woman with the fish hook ring and how she looked at him like that. He later learned who she was, and Hob made it sound like being connected to one of them was no big deal. Charles looked like he was about to do something profoundly stupid, like attack the man connected to the Endless and who couldn't die with his bare hands.

"That word 'affiliate' feels like it's doing a lot of heavy lifting, mate," Charles said lowly. "We want nothing to do with the Endless, so give me one good reason not to smash your head with a bat so the two of us can take off."

"Aside from the fact that it won't do any good?" Hob said. "Look, boys, let me tell you the long version, all right? It's a bit long, but it sounds like you don't trust me as far as you could throw me right now, so we'll go with the long version. If you still don't like the long version, I'll help you pack up your case files, and you can leave with no questions asked. You have my word." Edwin glanced at Charles, who didn't look convinced but didn't move either. He nodded carefully, and Edwin turned back to Hob.

"An explanation post haste would be appreciated," he said.

+++

The long version was much longer than Edwin thought it would be. Hob Gadling had been alive since the 1300s, and when he described how he became immortal as a bet between two gods, it sounded ridiculous. However, Edwin had seen a lot of strange things over the years, and if hell, magic, and ghosts were real, there was probably no limit to how strange the world could get. Hob didn't seem to mind that he was alive because of a bet, but perhaps that was something he had come to terms with already. Edwin wasn't sure he would be okay with that, but Hob didn't seem worried. So he announced he wouldn't die in the presence of Dream and Death, and Death took his words literally.

From there, Hob described meeting with Dream once every 100 years so Dream could ask if Hob wanted to die. This might be one of the most twisted things Edwin had heard in a while, and that was coming from someone who spent 70 years in hell. However, Hob didn't seem to think it was a big deal and described these meetings as moments he cherished. He talked about meeting Johanna's ancestor and never actually knowing what or who Dream was; he was just the Stranger.

Then they fought, and Dream didn't turn up for one of their meetings.

"What do either of you know about encephalitis lethargica, the sleepy sickness?" Hob asked.

"It was a new sickness that had just begun to affect people when I was taken to hell," Edwin said. "People were panicking, wondering if this was going to be another black plague, but the First World War was still ravaging the world, so most were focused on that."

"I knew people who had it," Charles replied. "One of my mates in school when I was little didn't wake up one day; he just kept on sleeping, and nothing would wake him up. A neighbor down the road stopped sleeping and went mad. He killed his entire family and then himself." Edwin had to admit that he was surprised the illness was still around once he got out of hell and learned about all the advancements made in medical science.

"That disease happened because some mage trapped Dream in his basement for over a century," Hob said. Edwin remember Johanna mentioning the last time runes and spells similar to the ones Quentin was attempting were used, something terrible happened. "I didn't know he was captured and thought he just stood me up, so I didn't go looking. He escaped recently and came to find me. We reconnected." Edwin frowned because it seemed like Hob wasn't quite telling the truth, but the door to the flat opened, and Johanna walked in carrying bags of takeaway.

"Have some food," she said as she handed Hob his meal. "Is he telling you his tragic backstory?"

"I'd hardly call it tragic," Hob replied.

"Did he get to the part where we're both sleeping with Dream at the same time?" she asked. Hob groaned as he hid his face in his hands. Edwin glanced at Charles, who just shrugged. Edwin might be old and still trying to understand his own sexuality, but he wasn't unaware of what other people in the world were doing.

"I hadn't, actually, so thank you for probably scarring them for life," Hob said. Johanna's smirk faded as she took Hob's chin in her hand and turned his head so he looked into her eyes.

"I can assure you those boys have seen far worse than hearing about our sex lives," she said. Hob blinked, glanced at them, and then nodded. Edwin appreciated Johanna quite a lot for that because she was making it clear that he and Charles weren't children that Hob needed to tip-toe around while also not disclosing everything they had gone through without their consent.

"They're worried about Death," Hob said. "I thought maybe telling them my story would convince them that they don't have anything to worry about, at least not from us."

"What about Dream? They are siblings; couldn't he tell her where we are?" Edwin asked.

"If we asked him not to be, he wouldn't," Johanna said, sounding rather confident about that. "He's rather vague on the rules, but the siblings don't interact much. What happened with Hob is extremely rare, and they can go centuries without even seeing each other."

"Boys," Hob said, "you have someone trying to hurt you, and just looking through some of your cases, it's clear you do good work. I want to help you, we want to help you, so please let us help you." Edwin glanced at Charles, who nodded.

"If I see anything fishy, I don't care if you can't die; I will clock you upside the head with my bat and make a run for it," Charles warned.

"While I might not be as proficient as you are, Miss. Constantine, I promise I can defend myself with my own skills if my partner or myself are threatened," Edwin said.

"Those are reasonable terms," Hob replied. He didn't seem that worried about the threat, nor did Johanna, but Edwin supposed that both of them knew they had the upper hand at the end of the day. "Between Dream and Johanna, this place should be safe, so let's see if we can get some information about your guy in these case files."

+++

Edwin was starting to think the answers weren't in the case files because nothing was coming up. They had four people pouring over every detail, and while they weren't going through every detail exactly quickly, it wasn't a slow process either. They had found the name Quentin a few times, but they all turned out to dead ends. They were people who were long and very much confirmed to be dead or even clients that they had helped pass along. If this was a fake name, they were running around in circles; it was obvious that Quentin had something else planned for them, and it was only a matter of time before he struck again.

He was also getting more and more worried about Charles. Normally, he would be chatting with people like Johanna and Hob with an ease that Edwin was deeply jealous of. This time, he was very quiet and only responded when he was asked questions. Edwin was the one forced to engage in conversation, and if he could die again, that might be the thing that sent him over the edge. Hob and Johanna didn't know them, so they didn't know that this was so uncharacteristic of Charles, so they were little help as well.

Eventually, Hob told them that the two living people needed a break and that there was another flat across the hall they could rest in if they wanted some privacy. That sounded pretty much ideal to Edwin, and he all but dragged Charles out of Hob's flat and into the empty one across the hall. It was tiny, but there were a few basic pieces of furniture, including a bed, a sofa, and a mirror on the wall that they could use to travel.

"You really spirited us out there, didn't you, mate?" Charles said. He was smiling, trying to joke and act like everyone expected him to, but Edwin could see right through it.

"I was getting overwhelmed and needed some time away. I wanted you to join me," Edwin replied, which was a lie, but he wasn't sure if Charles was ready to have a conversation about all of this. He walked forward very slowly and telegraphed his movements so Charles knew exactly what he would do before he did it. It didn't matter; Charles flinched anyway, but Edwin acted like he didn't see it. He carefully removed Charles's backpack from his shoulder, set it aside, and took his partner by the hand to pull him over to the bed while maintaining eye contact.

Charles didn't resist, and before long, they were lying on the bed together. It took a little quiet trial and error for them to figure out how they wanted to hold each other, but eventually, they settled with Charles on his back, and Edwin wrapped around him tightly. Their arms were wrapped tightly around each other, and there wasn't a hint of space between their bodies. It was as easy as breathing to tangle their legs together. Edwin tucked his face into Charles's neck and closed his eyes as he let himself live in the moment.

"Edwin," Charles whispered after what could have been a minute or an hour. Edwin opened his eyes and shifted just enough that he could look Charles in the eyes. "I love you." Edwin closed the distance between them so their foreheads were rested against each other and their lips were but a hair's breadth apart.

"I love you too," Edwin replied. Like everything between them in this aspect of their dynamic, it was easy to close that tiny distance, so they were kissing. It was still surreal and still felt like a dream to Edwin. He didn't think he'd ever feel this or ever have anything like this with anyone. Even after he confessed to Charles and knew that they had the rest of time to figure it out, somewhere in the back of his mind, Edwin knew there was a chance this might not ever happen. Yet here he was, here they were, and even with the hell they were going through, they still got to have this.

Charles carefully rolled them over so Edwin was on his back and Charles was settled on top of him; only this felt more intimate. Edwin could feel his partner's leg between his, and when he gasped, Charles slipped his tongue into Edwin's mouth. They hadn't kissed like this many times; there hadn't been any time, but there was time right now, and Edwin wasn't about to waste it. He had no idea what he was doing, so he let Charles take the lead and followed. Edwin loved Charles's curls, which were perfect when he threaded his fingers through them. He didn't mean to pull on Charles's hair, but the sound Charles made in response was one Edwin wanted to pocket and keep with him for the rest of his afterlife.

When Charles broke their kiss, Edwin was about to take advantage of his grip on Charles's hair to pull him back in, but his partner had other ideas. Charles began to press soft kisses along Edwin's jawline and down onto the apparently sensitive skin of his neck. He didn't know that someone kissing him there would feel like he was alive again, but this was the new reality he was living in. Edwin gasped and tried to pull Charles even closer. He was suddenly aware that he was hard, and he could feel that Charles was just as hard against his hip. Their bodies were moving against each other in a way that felt like it was nearing frantic, like they were running somewhere and needed to get there as quickly as possible.

Edwin didn't have experience, and he didn't know all of the slang terms, but he knew what sex was and the basic mechanics behind it. There were several things either of them could do to bring them both to orgasm, but Edwin wasn't sure if either of them was willing to do more than what was already happening.

"Charles," Edwin gasped. He wasn't even sure what he was asking for or what he wanted, but Charles kissed him again. There wasn't anything soft or loving about this kiss; now, it felt like they were trying to devour each other. Edwin wished they were wearing fewer clothes, but to take anything off would mean letting go of Charles, and that wasn't happening anytime soon. When Charles bit Edwin's lower lip, that was what sent him over the edge, and he instinctively pulled on Charles's hair in return. That was his partner's breaking point, and they were left tangled in each other's arms, breathing hard despite not needing to breathe at all and exchanging slow and deep kisses that Edwin could get lost in.

"I almost want to make fun of us for getting each other off with kissing, but we are teenagers," Charles said. It was such a ridiculous statement that it cut through any lingering tension in the air as they both laughed.

"It was perfect," Edwin said softly.

"Yeah, because it's us," Charles replied. The cleaning-up phase was pretty basic; they found some tissues and imagined clean clothing on their bodies. It hadn't been that long, so Edwin didn't think they could get back to the case files, and he wanted to keep the spark in Charles's eyes around as long as possible. He wasn't always the best when talking about things, but he needed to make sure that Charles knew he didn't have to face the specter of his father alone. They collapsed onto the couch, with Charles lying in Edwin's lap. Edwin traced the curves of his ear and jaw anywhere he could touch them. "There's something I need to do, and I'm afraid to do it."

"Tell me? Maybe I can help," Edwin replied.

"My mum," Charles said after a long silence. "I feel like if Quentin had killed her, he would have forced me to see her too, so I don't think she's dead. I should go check in on her, but I don't know what I want to see. If I see her mourning my dad, I think I'm going to be angry because he was a bastard who nearly fractured my skull and locked me in a basement for almost two days; he doesn't deserve any tears. If she isn't mourning him, I think that's going to be even worse because then I'll always think that maybe she didn't love him as much as she said she did, maybe she could have left and gotten me out of there, and she chose not to.

"Is he going to get a funeral?" Charles continued. "Are people going to stand up there and eulogize him, say he was a good man, a devoted husband, and a father? Is there going to be an investigation into how he died? Is someone going to care enough to see if he was murdered, or are they just going to rule it an accident? Are they going to put more effort into solving his case than they ever put into mine?" Charles was shaking, and he buried his face into Edwin's lap, but there wasn't any hiding the tears. "Will his death matter more than mine? Will he matter more than I did?"

"First things first, you matter; you matter more to me than anyone else, and I love you. We have spent the last thirty years helping other ghosts move on when no one was there to help us and solve our cases. The Lost and Found Department wouldn't have taken us on if we didn't have some sort of impact," Edwin said. "I can go and see your mum for you if you like, and I can just tell you if she's well and nothing else. This is what Quentin wants; he wants you to feel like this. I know it's difficult, but I also know you're stubborn enough not to let that man win." Charles rolled over so he was on his back, and they looked at each other. Edwin knew he wasn't the best at trying to comfort someone, but it made his heart ache to see Charles hurting like this and unable to do anything about it. Paul Rowland was gone; there wasn't anything to fight, yet Charles was still in pain.

"Thanks for the offer, love," Charles said, and Edwin did his best not to react to the new term of endearment because now was not the time. Later, he would allow himself to linger on that word later. "I think I need to go see her and whatever she is doing. However, she is reacting; that's just how it is. There's no right answer, so it doesn't matter one way or another." Charles reached over and took Edwin's hand in his own, entwining their fingers, and Edwin never got tired of holding Charles like this. "Can we stay like this for a little while longer? Then we can go see her."

"When you're ready, we can go," Edwin replied. It probably wasn't the best use of their time; they should have kept going through those case files, but Quentin had already taken so much from them. This could help Charles, and that was worth everything.

+++

They rested until the morning, and then Charles seemed motivated to see his mother. Edwin wasn't sure how he would react when he saw Mary Rowland. On one hand, he knew that she was a battered woman on some level and how difficult it was for women to escape situations like that. At the same time, Edwin might hate her for failing to protect Charles just as much as he hated Paul for the actual abuse. It was just further proof of how strong and brave Charles was that he was willing to face this, and he reminded him of that after they passed through a mirror near the old house.

Charles did not want to mirror-hop directly into the house, and Edwin wasn't about to question him about it.

It was early morning, but people moved around Charles's childhood home. Edwin could immediately see the family resemblance, and the sight of them made Charles freeze in place.

"My aunties, some of my cousins, all of the people that never visited when I was alive from mum's side of the family," Charles said. "I'm sure Dad told them not to, but if they tried, they didn't try very hard." Edwin began to take in the little details around the house, and there was plenty of evidence of a marriage and a life lived with a spouse but no evidence of a child. Charles was absent from the walls and any pictures on tables; he wasn't on display anywhere for anyone to see.

They walked into the kitchen, where almost everyone was except Charles's mother. She was absent, but everyone was talking about what was going on.

"When will the autopsy be finished?" a woman asked as she drank a large cup of tea. Edwin wordlessly reached over and took Charles's hand because this was what they were worried about; it appeared that when Quentin killed Paul, he didn't make it look natural or like an accident.

"At least another couple of days, mum," a man in his forties replied. He looked tired, and Edwin could only guess this must have been one of Charles's cousins. They were probably close to the same age at one time. "Once they have an official ruling, Scottland Yard will decide whether or not they want to pursue the case." This was becoming the ultimate slap in the face to Charles because they were looking into his father's death, they were giving it attention, and they were treating it like a crime where justice could and should be served.

"Come with me," Charles whispered. He hesitated as he looked at the door leading down to the basement but eventually headed up the stairs as they phased through the door and into the master bedroom. Mary Rowland was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, tears falling from her eyes, but she didn't make a sound. Her breathing was so quiet and so controlled that you wouldn't even know someone was in there. Edwin wondered if this was the only way she could cry silently so her husband wouldn't know it was happening. She was hugging a framed photo from her wedding to her chest.

On her side table, there was something that caught Edwin's eye. It was a picture of Mary and a very young Charles hugging each other tightly and grinning at the camera. It was the only evidence he had seen of Charles in this house from the moment they had walked in. Charles saw the picture and then looked at his mother.

"I hope things are better now," he said, and that was all Charles wanted to say. He guided Edwin out of the room and back into the kitchen. This time, they ignored the gossiping family members as they spoke about funeral arrangements and went to the basement. It was risky, but they flipped on the lights, and what used to be Charles's room lit up. There wasn't any evidence of him, though. It just looked like a basement that someone furnished at one point. "I don't know what I was expecting. It's not like they would just leave everything like I had left it, but there's nothing. There's that one picture on mum's dresser, and that's the only evidence in this house that I existed."

"Charles," Edwin said softly as Charles even met his gaze. "The world and its people are worse off for forgetting you." Charles blinked once and then pulled Edwin into a rough kiss. Edwin let Charles put everything he was feeling into that. He let his partner hold onto his clothes hard enough that the seams were starting to pop, and he welcomed a kiss so passionate it would have left his lips bruised if they were both still alive. Charles eventually broke the kiss, but he stayed close.

"Her family is here, and that's good. He didn't let her have any friends, made sure she was isolated, but they're here, and they will take care of her," Charles whispered. Edwin could read between the lines; Charles was absolving himself of any responsibility for his mother. That was good; he didn't need to carry another burden.

"Shall we go back to The New Inn?" Edwin asked when he could tell that Charles had started to relax. He nodded, and they turned off the basement light before making their way upstairs, hand in hand. Mary came from her bedroom as they walked into the living room, but Charles didn't spare her a glance. They walked through the mirror to return to The New Inn without looking back.

+++

When they got back to The New Inn, they argued. It wasn't a very long or particularly vicious one, but they disagreed on whether or not they should reach out to Crystal and Niko. So far, they hadn't said anything to either of them out of fear of drawing Quentin's ire, but they knew he was in town and far away from them. So maybe they would be safe, but maybe they wouldn't, and it wasn't so much that they were arguing as they were talking past each other because they both wanted to do whatever it took to keep Crystal and Niko out of this.

In the end, Edwin suggested utilizing Hob or Johanna to reach out to the girls to tell them what was happening and that they were safe. They didn't need to know any of the details, not right now, but just hearing that they were safe might be enough to keep them from inciting an invasion of London. When they reunited with Johanna and Hob, Johanna offered to send the message. She got immediate replies from Niko and Crystal demanding proof that Edwin and Charles were actually there and fine. The only thing they could do was share an incident only they would know, that they met the washerwoman, as proof that it was them. The girls seemed to accept that answer but were still leery of everything. Edwin didn't really blame them.

The case files continued turning up nothing, and the piles were getting much smaller.

"This doesn't make any sense," Edwin muttered as he set aside another file. "If we really did harm this man like he says we did, he would be in the case file as someone important or linked to a client."

"Maybe he isn't important," Hob suggested. "If being around as long as I have has taught me anything, it's that many people think they are the star of someone else's life. Maybe this guy thinks he's important to one of your clients when, in reality, he isn't."

"If that's the case, he's not going to be anywhere in this paperwork," Johanna said as she leaned back. "If we're following this line of thought, a man who thinks he is more important in the lives of someone else? If that's the case, we can probably eliminate anyone who is a man because a man wouldn't act like this for another man if he's straight. This is how abusive men act toward women they want to control. Statistically, anyway." That made Charles sit up, and he frowned deeply.

"He wasn't a husband then because we would have something about that. Or even a boyfriend. If he were the one responsible and just shifting blame to us, he'd be on a suspects list," he said.

"Did we ever help a client who was dealing with a stalker?" Edwin asked. "Maybe we're not the first ones he stalked. Perhaps this woman, maybe our client, was his first victim." It was a little easier to dig through everything when they could disregard male clients, but a few hours later, Johanna held up a file.

"Her name was Elizabeth Lorie," Johanna said as she opened the file. "Her friends called her Lizzie, and you helped her five years ago." Edwin took the file as Charles joined him so they could look it over. Lizzie was thirty-five when she died, but it was ruled an accident. She had fallen down the stairs of her flat and broken her neck; no one thought there was any foul play. It was a sudden death, and Lizzie didn't want to move on because she had unfinished business with her mother. They needed to reconcile, and Lizzie wrote a letter to her mother apologizing and forgiving her for previous transgressions. They needed to help Lizzie's mother find the letter to help her mother find peace. Once she had the letter, Lizzie was at peace and moved on.

"There isn't anyone here with Quentin's name or any men listed at all," Edwin said. "Lizzie wasn't seeing anyone and said she hadn't been interested in seeing anyone for a long time. She just wanted to mend things with her mother. She only mentioned that she had gotten some strange letters in the mail from someone, but we didn't look into it because she said it wasn't related. It was a bad date."

"If she filed anything with Scottland Yard, it isn't anywhere I can find it online," Hob replied. "And we don't have a last name for your mage, so we can't backtrack that way either. Either the stalking had just started, it wasn't so bad that she didn't feel like she could not deal with it alone, or she was too afraid to report it."

"She wasn't afraid," Charles said definitively. "I can assure you that she was not afraid of someone hurting her, I can tell, and she wasn't. She just wanted her mum to find that letter, and that was all." Edwin looked at the photograph of Lizzie when she was alive that they kept in the file as if he could will her to give him some answers. They didn't even know if this was the right person, but they had nothing else, and assuming Quentin was directly linked to a client of theirs was not working out.

"Let us continue our search until we finish all of the case files and make sure there isn't something we missed," Edwin said. However, nothing else turned up that seemed to fit the criteria they were now working under, and Quentin was never mentioned in any of their paperwork. They were left with Lizzie and no other obvious candidate, but her case was also giving them no other information aside from the fact that they were likely not Quentin's first stalking victims.

It was getting late when Johanna's phone rang, and she picked it up. She frowned, however, and pulled the phone away to set it on speakerphone.

"Yeah, could you repeat that for me?" Johanna asked.

"You're Johanna Constantine, right?" Jenny's voice said on the other line. Edwin glanced at Charles; they hadn't heard or seen Jenny since she told them to stay away not long after her attack. "I need you to help me find two ghost teenagers who run around the city."

"And why do you need to find them?" Johanna asked.

"The final report on an attack on me was released, and I got a copy. I figured they would want one," Jenny replied. That was information that they could use, but the timing could not be ignored. Edwin looked at Johanna, and she seemed to understand his hesitation.

"Say they want proof that it's you; what's something I could tell them that only you and them would know?" Johanna asked.

"When I woke up and could see them for the first time, half of my hair was in a braid because of Niko," Jenny replied. That was very specific, and there didn't appear to be any evidence that Quentin could read minds like Crystal. Johanna watched them carefully until she turned the phone off the speaker and put it back in her ear.

"I don't work for free, but I need to look into a few things before I can take on this little scavenger hunt. Give me your number, and I'll get back to you," Johanna said. She nodded once and hung up. Hob was watching her with a raised eyebrow. "What? I need to make it look like a real job."

"Sure you did," Hob deadpanned. "Boys, did that sound like her and was that something only she would know?"

"She and two other people that we trust and who aren't even in the country," Charles replied. "She was also the first one that Quentin attacked."

"This seems like it could be some sort of trap, but Jenny did not sound like she was under duress, and we will approach her carefully just in case," Edwin said.

"Don't chase after this bastard without me," Johanna warned. "He might be a novice, but that doesn't mean he won't get lucky." She was right that something about this didn't feel right, but Edwin had a feeling that when they confronted Quentin, it would be orchestrated so Johanna wouldn't be around. Judging by how he got his cricket bat from his backpack, Charles seemed to know it, too, before they mirror-hopped close to Jenny's store.

+++

Edwin was thrilled that Jenny was alone when they phased through her new door and into the store. However, she didn't look entirely happy to see them, and the bat that Charles had enchanted for her was still nearby. She looked good, though, safe, so keeping away from her to keep her safe was proving to be the right call.

"I have everything on the boys that attacked me," Jenny said as she handed them a folder. "They wanted me to look it over to see if I knew anything about them or if any of it looked familiar. It doesn't, but I figured you two might be able to do something about it."

"Thaks, Jenny," Charles said. "Has anyone bothered you?"

"Shockingly, keeping away from you two has kept the trouble away from my door," Jenny replied. The words stung more than Edwin was willing to admit, and something was starting to take root in the back of his mind that he didn't have time to think about. Now was not the time, and he pushed those thoughts away.

"Thank you, Jenny. Hopefully, all of this will be resolved soon," Edwin said. Jenny narrowed her eyes as she looked between them.

"If you think I'm angry at you now, you don't want to know how angry I'll be if you run off to do something fucking stupid and break Crystal and Niko's hearts," Jenny said. Edwin could hear the threat for what it was, but they couldn't promise her anything; they couldn't promise anything to each other.

"Stay safe," Charles said without acknowledging what she had said. Edwin thought about it momentarily and took them to the office instead of The New Inn. It was quiet, and it didn't appear that anything had been disturbed, so Quentin hadn't managed to break in. They both settled on the couch and began to look over the file without saying a word to each other.

The details about the three men, boys really, they weren't that much older than they were when they died, didn't have anything specific that stood out to Edwin. They were a group of friends that used to run around together and cause trouble as kids, mischief, nothing like robbery and assault. Edwin handed off all three of their histories as he began to look over the timeline they put together of their movements in the day leading up to the attack. Nothing stood out to him until Edwin realized they had been near or possibly in their old school.

They would have broken in over a long weekend, and it would have been completely abandoned. There was CCTV footage of them going in and coming out mere moments later. They had bags on them, so the police theorized that the youngest was trying to get something a sibling had left there. They checked the school, and nothing was touched, and nothing appeared to be missing, and the attackers were already dead by the time they found this footage. They were careful not to get caught, and Scottland Yard made this connection on one camera from one angle. They dismissed it as unimportant, but Edwin felt something terrible settle into his stomach.

Quentin seemed to know everything about them, and while it wasn't as poetic as bringing them back to St. Hilarion, making their final confrontation occur at a school seemed to fit the level of dramatics that their stalker was going for.

"Charles," Edwin said. "Jenny's attackers broke into their school over a long weekend and were careful not to get caught going in. One camera caught them. No one knew about or drew attention to it because they didn't take anything."

"You think this is where Quentin gave them the orders to attack Jenny?" Charles asked.

"Yes, and he knows our pasts, and forcing us to confront him at a school seems to coincide with everything we know about him," Edwin replied. "I believe if we go to that school, he'll be waiting for us. He knew we'd get this file today, and it's the weekend and the summer holidays. No one will be there." Charles stared at their door like he had seen something, but Edwin hadn't heard or seen anyone. Charles got up, unlocked their door, and opened it to reveal a piece of paper left on the floor.

Edwin got a pair of tweezers and picked it up to carry it over the desk. It looked like it had been sitting there for a little while. There was a little dust on the paper but nothing else. It took a little work, but Edwin opened the paper without touching anything. It was a series of addresses, and Edwin immediately knew what they were.

"The first one is Jenny's new shop," Edwin said. "Then there is the warehouse where Thomas usually stays, the address of Niko's mother's home, the hotel where Crystal is staying with her parents, Johanna's flat, and The New Inn."

"It's another threat," Charles said.

"Yes, no doubt it's telling us he knows where the people we care about or have helped us live. He threatening them so we won't go to any of them for help," Edwin replied.

"We knew this was what he would do," Charles said softly. "And I'm so fucking terrified for you, Edwin. You're the one he would be going after for this grand finale of his." Charles suddenly looked into Edwin's eyes and seemed a little frantic. "You have to me that you're going to let me be the first one through the door."

"Charles, he's not just coming after me. He clearly will be going after you as well," Edwin replied, but Charles was clearly not inclined to agree with him.

"No, he made sure everything that had happened was tailor-made to specifically hurt one of us more than the others. You need to let me protect you." Charles started to shake again as if the mere idea that Edwin might not let him protect him was more terrifying than facing the man who had sworn some sort of terrible revenge on them.

"The way he can hurt me is by hurting you," Edwin said. "By that logic, I should be the first one through the door." They were clearly at an end pass, and Edwin was usually more than willing to try to out stubborn Charles Rowland, but this appeared to be something he needed to do. "Fine, first through the door, but I'll be at your back the entire time."

"I wouldn't want you anywhere else," Charles replied.

+++

Edwin knew this was a trap, just as Charles knew it was one. The problem was they didn't know how connected Quentin was or if he could get to one of their friends or allies before they got to him. Edwin was many things, but he refused to put others in the line of fire for himself. This was one of those moments when he wished Charles was someone he didn't have to put in the line of fire, but his partner wouldn't let him go into that school alone.

A block away, they both stopped and held each other for a long time. Neither of them said anything because they were beyond words as far as Edwin was concerned. They just needed to hold each other before they walked into that building. Edwin wanted to reassure Charles that they were already dead, so pain was the worst thing waiting for them on the other side, but it felt like a lie, and he couldn't understand why. Even so, they couldn't put this off any longer, and the more they waited, the better chance Quentin would have of trying to do something for someone else.

Edwin had to give him credit for choosing a school as the place for his so-called "grand finale." Both he and Charles were so linked to their time in school, their time there so monumental to who they are today, that the drama of it all made sense considering the man they appeared to be dealing with. They approached the front door, and Edwin looked it over and saw nothing suspicious. They could phase through, Charles first, but Edwin right behind him. He wondered if they would have to find an attic or the basement to find Quentin, but he decided to make it easy for them. A dim light shone at the end of the hallway, beckoning them like the lantern they both used at one point.

Nothing happened as they carefully made their way down the halls, and there appeared to be anti-bullying posters on the walls. The world decided irony was the way to go. Charles didn't notice them; his eyes focused squarely on that light. Once they got to the door, Edwin once again checked to see if there was anything strange about it, but there wasn't. Charles looked him in the eye and nodded once, his bat in hand. Edwin had memorized some spells he thought could help deal with this man.

As soon as they phased through the door, several things happened simultaneously. The first was that Quentin was standing in the middle of the room, which appeared to be a cafeteria of some sort, waiting for them like he didn't have a care in the world. Charles tossed his bag to the side, but as soon as he stepped toward Quentin, something on the floor flared to life, and Charles shoved Edwin to the side as the rune on the floor activated.

"Nice to see you again, boys," Quentin said as he approached them. Charles bared his teeth, but when he tried to move, he couldn't. He was bound within the small circle, and it appeared he was struggling against an invisible wall.

"Edwin!" Charles said as he began to slam his fists into the barrier, but it didn't appear to be making any difference. Edwin knew Charles's nightmares and his being unable to help or do something as Edwin was hurt was right at the top.

"What did you do to him?" Edwin said as he backed away from Quentin.

"Just a binding rune; I've been playing around with them, as you know from what little clues I left you," Quentin replied as he grinned. "You're the spellcaster of your little group; let's see how quick you really are." The problem with magic was that the right spells cast in the right way could very much interact with ghosts. Edwin wanted to get over to Charles to break the rune, but he had to mutter a deflecting spell to keep fire from hitting him square in the chest. Vaguely, Edwin could still hear Charles screaming his name, but he couldn't focus on that right now.

Quentin, it appeared, had the advantage. Iron was everywhere, from the tables to the debris on the ground. Every time Edwin tried to move out of the way, he inadvertently touched more of the iron. The more iron he touched, the more tangible he became and the more impact the spells could have on him. Edwin was talented, but he was no sorcerer or warlock, and it was taking everything he had to block the various elements and iron that were being thrown at him. He was getting tired, and that was when Quentin decided to get up close and personal.

The crowbar was probably the one that nearly cracked Charles's skull open what felt like a lifetime ago, and Edwin had to try and breathe through the pain as he picked up an iron bar to defend himself with. Edwin remembered some of his fencing lessons as a child, but the iron burned his hand, making it hard to concentrate. He needed to get over to Charles and break the rune; he couldn't do this alone. Edwin tried to make his way back over to Charles, but instinct took over, and he dropped the iron because the pain was too much.

The blow from the crowbar was hard enough to send Edwin down like a stack of bricks. Charles was still screaming, telling Quentin to break the rune so he could pick on someone his own size, but everything was blurry, and there was a slight ringing in Edwin's ears.

"You fucking asshole, why are you doing this?" Charles screamed in a tone that Edwin hadn't heard before. "You've been stringing us along for months with this revenge bullshit, but we have no fucking clue who you are!"

"It was Lizzie," Edwin managed to say. The world was beginning to come back into focus, but he could hear Quentin approaching him. Edwin struggled to pull himself across the floor, hoping that if he got to the rune, he could break it and Charles could help somehow.

"I wasn't expecting you to know that, but I suppose I was important to her," Quentin said, and he sounded genuinely surprised. "Our first date was magical. There was an instant connection, but she was too stuck up to notice it. She needed me; she wanted to be with me, and I just needed to show her."

"So you stalked her," Charles said.

"I hate that word," Quentin snapped. "The accident happened on the stairs. She never even saw I was there, and I didn't mean for her to fall. I just wanted to use a spell on her so she could see why I was the one for her." Edwin thought he would be sick to hear Quentin talk about Lizzie like this. He was someone who wasn't going to take "no" for an answer, and, in some ways, she was probably fortunate that a painless death on the stairs was the only thing he did to her.

"We had nothing to do that," Edwin said. He was so close to the rune that the crowbar came down on his ribs. If there was wind in his lungs, there wasn't now, and Edwin curled into himself to fight through the pain.

"I was going to bring her back, and I was almost there, but you two twats had to help her cross over to the other side," Quentin's voice sounded like it was coming from every direction. "I tried to find something that could bring her back from the other side, but nothing worked; nothing brought her back. I would bring her back as a spirit and tie us together forever."

"She wanted nothing to do with you," Charles said lowly. "You weren't even a footnote in her life. We didn't even have you in her case file because you meant nothing to her."

"Keep your mouth shut, you little asshole, or I'll take it out on the one currently writhing in pain on the floor," Quentin said. Edwin managed to force himself to sit up, but he was beside Charles and could not touch him. Quentin was standing over both of them with a crazed look in his eyes. "You sent her away from me, so I couldn't bring her back. So, once I heard about how you were infamous now for working in America, I knew you had connections. You two had things to lose, so I made sure you lost them all, and now you're going to lose the one thing neither of you can even fathom losing: each other."

"You don't know how to do that," Edwin whispered.

"Oh Edwin, I do, though. All I need to do is make sure that Death comes to collect your little friend who can't move out of that rune, and you two will have lost the most important thing in your lives." Quentin smiled as he dropped the crowbar on the ground. "I modified the spell used to trap Dream of the Endless all those years ago; this one just puts out a little beacon to let Death know she is needed here. I started the process the second you two walked into the building."

"We have an agreement that we're protected," Charles said, but he didn't sound confident.

"I saw all of that from your casework, but the funny thing about conditional pardons is that the conditions change, and you boys haven't been pulling your weight for a while. Are you really that sure it will protect both of you?" Quentin asked. "Don't try breaking the rune; you won't in time. And you can chase me down if you want to, Edwin, but you might return to an empty room. You should say your goodbyes."

Edwin felt like the walls were closing in on him, like he was racing through the Doll House again, and the spider was right behind him. It had just clenched its jaws around one of his limbs. Death was coming, and while their deal seemed to protect him from hell, the terms regarding Death were much blurrier. Charles fell to his knees, and they were close enough to touch; there was no space between them, yet they couldn't get to one another. Edwin ignored the sound of Quentin walking away because he had won. This was the ultimate revenge against the Dead Boy Detectives.

"There has to be something I can do," Edwin whispered as he began to look at the rune. He could break it, and then they could leg it as fast as possible. If they got Charles out, they could hide in the backpack again. They just needed to break this rune.

"Edwin," Charles whispered.

"No," Edwin hissed because Charles sounded resigned, like he had given up, which was unacceptable. None of this was acceptable. "I'm not letting her take you; I'm not."

"Edwin, you need to go," Charles said as if that was something he was capable of doing. "We don't know if you're still protected from hell if Death shows up. We can't take the risk. You need to go before it's too late."

"If you're gone, it's already too late," Edwin yelled, slamming a fist into the invisible barrier keeping them apart. This was not happening; he could not let this happen. The idea that he could be left behind in a world without Charles was not a reality Edwin was even willing to face. "If there's no way back to you, then where I go doesn't matter."

The blue light began to fill the room, but Charles looked like he was panicking. "Edwin, please. I can't let you go back there. Please just go and be safe. I need you to do this for me. I can't have failing to protect you from hell as the last thing I do."

"Charles Rowland, you saved me in every possible way," Edwin whispered, which appeared to be what broke Charles.

"You saved me, too," he whispered. There was the sound of wings, and they both looked to see Death standing nearby. She was so kind-looking, and even at this moment, when Edwin was terrified, he could see why everyone had taken her hand and went with her. She was a calming presence, even if he panicked internally in every possible way.

"Edwin and Charles, it's nice to finally meet you," Death said. "You've both been running from me for a very long time."

"We have an ongoing agreement with the Lost and Found Department," Edwin managed to say, but Death just smiled at him.

"That would technically be part of my department," she replied.

"Please don't send Edwin back to hell; he doesn't deserve to be there; he never should have been there," Charles said, speaking so fast that his words were starting to run together. Death tilted her head as she walked over and looked at them. She made a humming noise and waved her hand. The rune keeping Charles in place vanished, and he practically threw himself into Edwin's arms. Edwin held onto him because this would be the last time he would have Charles in his arms. They pulled away just enough to press their foreheads together, and Edwin didn't bother to hide the fact that he was shaking.

"I love you," Charles whispered. "I don't regret a second of it."

"I don't either, and I love you too," Edwin replied.

"Boys," Death said. "Edwin isn't going to hell, but you can go to the other side where you belong. It's beautiful and peaceful."

"He wouldn't be there, so it hardly matters," Edwin said, not bothering to hide that he was snapping at Death. He didn't care; it didn't matter because this was the end of them, and he couldn't stand it.

"All of those you have helped move on have spoken of you," Death said. "They had nothing but praise for the two teenagers helping others get justice and find peace in the world. Even I cannot do that for all of them." Something about this conversation's direction made Edwin release Charles just enough so they could look at her. "I cannot interfere with the mortal world; I cannot get them justice, but you can, and you do. You do what even the Endless cannot."

"What are you saying?" Charles whispered.

"I'm saying that hiding in another room or on a window ledge was hardly going to keep me away if I really wanted to find you," Death said. "I could have told you if you stopped long enough for us to have a conversation. I know the work you do. I told the Lost and Found Department that you are needed, and they should take advantage of that, and here we are."

"You're not splitting us up?" Edwin said. This had to be a dream because he was getting everything he ever wanted. He felt like he would collapse onto the floor, and Charles was the only thing keeping him up.

"No, but when you're both ready, I'll be there to help you move on." Death walked over and touched Edwin's cheek and then Charles's with her hand. It felt like a benediction, salvation, in ways that religion never felt. "Stay safe, boys. We'll see each other again someday, maybe when you're ready to move on, maybe before." Edwin and Charles didn't have words because they just nodded wordlessly. Death smiled and, with the sound of wings, was gone.

Whatever kept them both standing gave out, and Edwin let himself collapse with Charles in his arms. They sat there, surrounded by broken pieces of iron, holding each other until the sun finally rose.

Notes: I have zero excuses for how long this is aside from the fact that I wanted the boys to have a little comfort among all of the angst in this chapter. Yes, it is a BEAST, and I considered splitting it up but decided against it. Also, yes, I know there is a dangling plot thread; we'll get to it. We still have at least one more chapter to go, and that's if it decides not to spin wildly out of control. This fanfiction has been one hell of a ride for me, and it's also been the most daily writing I've done since probably 2022, so it's been nice to be back to doing this. Your comments, support, kudos, and likes continue to mean the world and more to me. I'm still posting pretty regular previews on Sundays and Wednesdays on Tumblr, and I'm hoping to have this fic completed before I go out of town on the 8th, but we'll see.