Arrival Post [OTA]

[piesordeath]

Well, this was ... different.

For a man who was used to dealing with the unusual and the eccentric for nearly all of his life (certainly all of his adult life), this was - yeah. Different.

The facts were these: Ned the piemaker was on his way down from his apartment to the Pie Hole after a rather rough (to say the least) morning, with every

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[honeyanddeath]

Charlotte Charles had been careful not to mope since the Pie Maker had apparently dropped off the face of the earth (or wherever they were). She still smiled and laughed, stillread interesting books and dreamed of having her own apiary, but something was undeniably missing. For the first time since her death, she didn't have her childhood sweetheart with her. In some ways it made things easier-- she didn't have to worry about dying from an accidental touch, and since no one here knew her secret unless she chose to tell them, she could very easily pretend to be completely normal. She was completely normal for this place, and that was a nice feeling

[piesordeath]

Seeing her beaming at him brought on quite the relief. The last time he'd seen her, she was angry and hurt - and made of a point of not wanting him to find her.

It was ... well, it had been terribly stressful.

But the relief was very short-lived once he remembered exactly where he was - and thus, where Chuck was too.

"Chuck -" he started, afraid that any sensible, logical question or comment would only become swallowed by the tumble of words that threatened to flow out from his lips.

(His fears were right.)

"- I'm sorry. About everything. Your dad - I should have told you earlier, but I just didn't know how. I didn't know I could ... do what I did at the time."

[honeyanddeath]

It took her a moment to catch on to what he was saying, she was just so happy to hear his voice.

"My dad?" she repeated, baffled but unable and unwilling to relinquish her smile. "What are you talking about?"

Well, she knew at least one reason why Ned might be apologizing about her dad, but now? When they hadn't seen each other in so long?

[piesordeath]

By now, Ned had begun to run out of steam in his word-vomit. He was now a little more exhausted than anything - and still very glad that Chuck didn't seem to be about to get angry again.

Maybe, everything was going to be okay.

"About - what I told you? The other ... night?"

[honeyanddeath]

"The other night?" she repeated, still baffled and still smiling. "Ned, I haven't seen you in... Months."

As soon as she said it, her arms ached with the urge to hug him and she held them tightly against her sides to resist.

"Where have you been? I was so worried."

[piesordeath]

"You haven't -"

Seen him in months.

Months.

That made no sense. How could she -

"I'm afraid I don't really know what you mean. I saw you just last night - well, earlier last night, before I told you the truth and you left and I hadn't seen you since."

He put a hand to his forehead, eyebrows creased into a frown. "How could it have been months?"

[honeyanddeath]

"No... It's definitely been months."

She gave her head a stubborn shake. It had been months, she wouldn't forget them.

Then suddenly it clicked-- her dad, her leaving, Ned's stress as if he'd just spent a night out on the street in the snow and was yet to recover.

"Are you talking about... When you told me you'd killed my dad? But that was ages ago."

[piesordeath]

He nodded. That was exactly the time he meant.

But as he took her words - and his - into consideration, he could only come up with one explanation.

And really, it didn't make very much sense as far as he was concerned.

"You're from ... my future? Wait, how is that even possible? Is that possible?"

[honeyanddeath]

Oh, if that was all...

Chuck's smile returned full force.

"Stranger things have happened. Stranger things have happened to us," she reminded him. "A lot of people would say 'is it possible for a pastry chef to bring people back from the dead?'"

[piesordeath]

He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

"Point taken," he said, letting out a breath.

It sounded far more relieved and relaxed than he had been as soon as he'd landed here.

There might even be a hint of a smile playing upon his face.

"So ... you're from my future. Which means ... you're no longer mad at me."

[honeyanddeath]

Her smile quieted, though it didn't disappear.

"No, I'm not mad at you."

It still hurt to think of, but after that first burst of anger, logic and love had kicked in and she knew it wasn't anything Ned could be held accountable for, even if it was his fault. It was just part of who he was, and the same gift that had given her life had also taken her father.

"You should have known I couldn't stay mad at you. I just needed... Time."

And she'd had plenty of time, whereas he could now have the forgiveness he'd needed. Perhaps this weird time difference was for the best.

[piesordeath]

"You were really ... distraught. And angry. There was a lot of shouting," he said, his shoulders rising as he looked terribly apologetic. "I don't blame you. I mean, I never wanted to hurt you, but -"

He let out a breath.

"I thought I'd really done it."

Ended them. Forever.

"But time ... time is good. I'm just really glad you're okay. When I couldn't find you ..." The worry on his face was clear enough to finish the rest of his sentence. "Are you okay now?"

[honeyanddeath]

there was an unexpected lump in her throat and for a moment she couldn't speak, so she just nodded. It was hard to think of that painful time, harder still to know that while she had been missing him, his last memory of her was a painful one.

"I'm okay. Now, anyway." Her voice caught and she had to take a deep breath before continuing. "I've missed you. It's been months and... You were my phantom limb."

[piesordeath]

He smiled, swallowing all of the doubts and fears and everything else that threatened to break the niceness of the moment.

"I missed you too, Chuck. Even if it hasn't been more than a night and a bit for me."

His cheer started to sober up once he'd caught the tail-end of her words.

It's been months.

"I was here?"

[honeyanddeath]

"For a little while," she said, nodding and swiftly swiping at her eyes before moisture could build up. "And Digby too."

But then they'd gone and she'd carried on as if she was a normal, not-dead girl with a missing phantom limb.

"Oh, and Olive too. Or, that's what you said. I never saw her."

[piesordeath]

"Digby."

His eyes widened as he recalled his faithful best friend (well, besides Chuck). What would happen to the poor dog now?

"I ... don't know how I could have been here and back home at the same time, but - you know what, I'm just going to try something different. I'm going to just ... go with it."

Because trying to figure it out was clearly not helping; it merely raised his anxiety levels.

"No Emerson?"