Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Buzzzzzz… buzzzzz… buzzzzz… 

Charlie awakens with a start as his phone buzzes quietly beside him. He groans as he sits up and groggily takes in his surroundings. “Oh god” he groans. Not again he thinks, as he reaches for his phone to see who's calling him. 

This is not the first time Charlie has woken up, with his head on his desk, after having worked himself to the point of exhaustion. Far from it. This is an almost daily occurrence at this point. He knows it’s not healthy. But what can he do? There’s just so much work to do!

He scrubs his right hand over his face in a vain attempt to make himself more alert, as he flips his phone over with his left. Elle’s face lights up the screen with the incoming call. “Shit” he glances over at the clock on the wall. 7pm. Fuck! He answers as hastily as he can.

“Elle, I’m so sorry, I lost track of the time. I’m on my way!”

“Charlie, breathe!” Elle scolds. Charlie pauses and takes the time to breath 3 long slow breaths, deliberately making them loud enough for Elle to hear. He knows she needs to hear it. “Better?” Elle asks when she hears him release the third breath.

This is a long practised routine between the two of them by this point. Charlie has known Elle since he was 13. They met in school, bonding in the art room where they were both seeking solace, (and yeah, hiding away from the world if Charlie is being completely honest with himself), from the homophobic and transphobic bullies at their school. Elle became a staple in his friendship group very quickly after they met, bringing a much needed sense of calm and control to their trio. Thus making them a proper ‘group’ of borderline outcasts, as Tao had lovingly dubbed them, as she brought their number up to four. 

Don’t get him wrong, Charlie loves his other friends, Tao, the loud, opinionated cinefile who will always stand in front of Charlie and Elle and fight back, verbally, whenever he feels it is needed, and Isaac who couldn’t be more different to Tao. Where Tao is loud about his passions and who he loves, and shows his support through words, Isaac is reserved and quiet, always content to sit on the sidelines, reading his next beloved book, observing and providing support through his mere presence in any situation.

Elle brought a new element to the group that Charlie desperately needed. She is nurturing, and knows exactly what to say to help Charlie whenever he spirals, which if he is honest, is happening a lot more often than he would like again lately. He hasn’t been this bad since his teens, and, although he knows he isn’t at that point again yet, he knows he is getting close, and if he doesn’t make a change soon, he is at risk of falling into another bad period.

“Charlie? Can you hear me?” Charlie is startled out of his thoughts again by Elle’s voice, and by her tone he can tell that this is not the first time she has said his name. Whoops, I must have really zoned out.

“Sorry, yeah. I can hear you.”

“Charlie…” Elle says, her voice so serious Charlie knows he’s been caught. “You fell asleep at work again. Didn’t you?” 

Charlie sighs in resignation. “Yeah” he admits. “I know, I know. I need to take better care of myself. Can we just forget about it, this once? I promise, I’ll come to dinner, and afterwards I’ll go home and have a proper night's rest.”

“And?...” Elle prompts. Damn how does she always know when to push me?

“Ulgh fine, AND I’ll take the whole weekend off. No work until Monday I promise. I’ll even leave my laptop here so I can’t be tempted.” 

“Good!” Charlie can hear the satisfaction in her tone. “Now get yourself presentable, and quick. You're already late, and my friends are bringing someone tonight. Someone who I think might be good for you, and perhaps just the distraction you need to stop prioritising work so much.”

His heart sinks. Fuck! I should have known this was a set up. If he’d spent any time thinking about tonight's plans, instead of being so focused on work and nothing else, he would have realised that it was odd. They‘re all getting together to celebrate Tao’s birthday, Elle has organised a nice restaurant, and invited the usual group, plus a few of her friends that she and Tao had met in their uni days. But Tao is not really a restaurant person. Certainly not when celebrating himself. So why would his fiance, the woman he’s been with since he was 15, suddenly make plans for a fancy birthday, knowing that he would prefer a simple night in, subjecting his friends to his incredibly niche movie taste, in the flat they had bought together two years ago?

“Elle, please tell me you did not use Tao’s birthday as an excuse to set me up?” Charlie groans, although he knows the answer already.

“Charlie, you haven’t dated at all since… you know…” Charlie tries and fails to contain his wince at the reminder of his awful ex, who used and discarded him so spectacularly that Charlie had been an utter mess for 6 months afterwards. Eh, who am I kidding? He thinks. I’m still a mess, and it’s been 3 years since I’ve even spoken to him… he takes a deep breath.

“You can say his name, you know. I won’t break” he interrupts, although he isn’t entirely sure that is true.

“Fine, since Ben. Charlie, you broke up nearly 4 years ago. You went no contact 3 years ago. I just…” she exhales, “I just hate seeing you like this. You deserve so much better than what that prick did to you, and Charlie… You deserve so much better than how you are treating yourself. Please. Just meet this guy. Be open to the idea that you deserve to be loved. Nothing has to happen, you can decide he’s not what you're after, but please, just come to dinner and be open to the idea that maybe, you might like to get to know this guy.” Charlie is fighting back tears as he listens to his friend.

“Okay…” he says, his voice shaky.

“Who knows, maybe you’ll decide just to have one night of fun with the guy instead,” Elle teases. 

Charlie can’t help the small chuckle that escapes his lips “okay, okay, enough Elle, I’ll be there soon. Send me the address again. It’ll take me too long to find it again at this point. I’m heading to the lift now. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon. Love you Charlie.”

“Love you too Elle.”

Chapter Text

“In 500 metres, turn left”

Charlie had rushed out of his office and jumped in his car as quickly as he could. He is still sceptical about this ‘date’ he’s been set up with, but he knows his friends are trying to reach out to him, and that he needs to accept the olive branch that they’ve extended to him. He knows they are worried, and that if he doesn’t start making a bit more of an effort with them, they will stage a serious intervention. Something he categorically DOES NOT want to happen… again.

He has been on the road for about 5 minutes, allowing his phone to direct him to the pin that Elle had sent him after she’d hung up earlier.

As much as he dreads the idea of being set up by his friends. Well his friends, friends he supposes. He is really looking forward to seeing Tao, Elle and Isaac again. It has been weeks since they’ve been together as a whole group, and Charlie is all too aware that he has not put in the effort that he should have to meet up with his friends individually over the past few months. 

As Charlie takes the turn that his phone instructed, the song that had been playing ends, and as the first few bars of the next track began, he feels his body respond viscerally, with a whole body shiver.

You know I want you

It's not a secret I try to hide

Charlie feels the memories start to hit him. This was their song. His and Ben’s.

I know you want me

So don't keep sayin' our hands are tied

Of course, Charlie had not been given any choice in their song. Just like everything else in their relationship. It had to be on Ben’s terms. Ben had claimed it was perfect, given that they’d had somewhat of a ‘forbidden’ romance in the beginning. They’d gotten together years before Ben was ready to come out, so they had been a secret for a long time.

You claim it's not in the cards

And fate is pullin' you miles away

Charlie reaches over to change the song. He can feel himself starting to spiral, something he can’t afford right now. He’s about to be in public with all of his friends, and a couple of their friends who he hasn’t officially met before. Plus this surprise date. He needs to get out of this headspace, and the first step is a change of song.

And out of reach from me

But you're here in my heart

He struggles with dials on the console screen, fucking hell, why won’t you cooperate, he thinks, now is NOT the time for you to fuck up. Stupid car. He keeps pressing buttons, trying to change the song, pause it, turn it off. Fuck anything will do right now.

So who can stop me if I decide

That you're my destin…

Charlie finally manages to pause it. As he is mentally high-fiving himself, he lets his eyes return back to the road. It is only then that he realises just how long he’d taken his eyes off the road for. Just how distracted he’d been. The only thought going through his head as his car careens towards the double decker bus that has just pulled out in front of him is FUCK!

Chapter Text

Nick sighs as he looks around what must be the fifteenth flat he’s viewed this week, and it’s only Wednesday. It’s official, another dud. Why is it so hard to find a furnished flat that is designed for comfort? Don’t get him wrong, Nick is a large, athletic man, he’s not a couch potato. He’s tall, measuring in at 6'1", and bulky, after all he is was a professional rugby player. But he is also recently retired after a career ending knee injury, and needs a home where he can be comfortable, and recover properly. Not some extravagant flat better suited to home design magazines than actual living.

“Is there really nothing else that's more… livable?” he asks his estate agent, Sally.

“Options that are furnished are fairly limited unfortunately. They are usually marketed to a certain clientele, you know the type who are flying in and out for business all the time and need a temporary place to call home. This is the last one I have available. You’re sure none of them would be suitable?” Sally enquires yet again.

With a sigh Nick shakes his head forlornly. “I guess I’ll just have to crash on my mates’ couch for a while longer…”

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Friday morning sees Nick walking into Rainbow Brew, after his latest of many physio appointments since his injury 3 months ago. Rainbow Brew is the cafe that his best friends have claimed as their new ‘spot.’ Of course Tara and Darcy would love the LGBT themed cafe, that is conveniently located within a 5 minute walk of their flat.

“Hey Darce” Nick says as his friend bounces up to him the second he crosses the threshold, and wraps their arms around him in a friendly hug, nearly knocking him over in their enthusiasm. “Hey T” he calls out once he has managed to stabilise himself, spotting Tara sitting at their usual table, a look of amusement in her eyes.

“Babe, let Nick go. You know his knee is still recovering, and he doesn’t need a Darcy-nado setting him back now that he’s finally building some strength back” Tara laughs as she attempts to rescue Nick from Darcy’s clutches.

“Ulgh, fine” Darcy laughs as they bound back over to the table. Dropping a kiss on their girlfriends cheek as they reclaim their seat. “How is your knee going today Nick-o-licious?” 

Nick chuckles at Darcy’s usual antics. If it were anyone else calling him that, he’d be annoyed, but he has been friends with Tara and Darcy long enough now to know that once Darcy has decided on a ridiculous name for someone, there is absolutely nothing that can be done to dissuade them from using it. “The same as it was this morning Darce” he responds. “Slowly getting stronger, but still painful if I run, or do anything too strenuous. The physio thinks it will still take me a while to regain enough strength to workout properly again. But, this new guy agrees with the one from Leeds. I’ll never play again. At least not professionally.” Nick fiddles with his watch strap to try and distract himself so he doesn’t dwell on that depressing thought for too long.

The thing about Nick is that he is, or was a rugby player, for most of his life. He started playing as a kid, in an attempt to impress his estranged father. Of course, that didn’t work. Nothing Nick ever did was good enough to win him Stephane’s affections. Something that took many years, and a lot of therapy for him to accept, was not a reflection on him, but rather on what a poor father figure his dad really was.

Nick had learnt at a young age that Rugby was more than just a means to connect with father, however. It was also something that he thoroughly enjoyed playing, and he was damn good at it too. He had continued to play throughout his whole schooling life, and had even ended up going to a specialist sports school once he was old enough, and remained there until he finished sixth form. He was named captain of the St. John’s rugby team in year 10, and had maintained that title until he graduated. He was also made captain after his first year at Leeds University, and was scouted to join the Leeds Badgers straight after uni.

That was it, Nick’s life was set. He knew who he was, what he wanted to do with his life, he was a professional rugby player. In the off season he would split his time between going home to Kent to visit his Mum, and spending time in London visiting his 2 oldest, and best friends Tara and Darcy.

Until 3 months ago, when a tackle from the wrong direction ended everything. He had spent the first month in Leeds, meeting with the Badgers’ medical team, until exactly 4 weeks after the initial injury, the doctors made the call that his recovery was not progressing as they would like, and his knee would never be able to handle the pressure and movement necessary to play professionally again. That was it. Nothing else to be said or done, it was over. His dream was over, and Nick felt so… lost.

He had taken it hard, and holed up in Kent with his Mum, trying to come to terms with the loss, and the sudden, dramatic change his life had taken. His fellow Badgers had helped pack up his flat a month later when he’d made the decision that he wouldn’t return to Leeds, and organised for all his stuff to be sent to his Mum’s house, to be stored until he figured out his next move. 

Which is how, after a harsh, but necessary conversation with his mother, in which she told him in no uncertain terms that she would not be watching him wallow in his childhood bedroom anymore. He has ended up, a month later, crashing on his best friends’ couch, trying desperately to find his own flat. So he can start over in London. 

Nick is nudged out of his sullen mood by the arrival of drinks at their table. A sugary coffee concoction that Nick wouldn’t even dream of touching for Darcy, a soy latte for Tara, and tea for Nick. Nick politely thanks the barista, and his friends, who had clearly ordered for them before he arrived. He shakes his head to get out of his funk, and forces himself to refocus on his friends in front of him.

“So, how’s the house hunting going?” asks Tara. “Not that you’re not welcome to keep crashing on our couch! It’s just, you know, that can’t be comfortable long term…”

Nick sighs, “you’re right T, as much as I love you guys, and I love spending time with you everyday. It would be nice to have my own space. Plus, an actual bed” he laughs, “one I can actually fit in, rather than a couch that only half of me can lay on at a time.”

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An hour later, Nick, Tara and Darcy exit the cafe and start the walk back to their flat. Tara and Darcy have been together for 15 years now, and have been Nick’s best friends for almost as long. While Nick had gone to St John’s, Tara and Darcy had both gone to the local Girls’ school, Higgs. Nick and Tara had known each other in their younger years, floating around each other's periphery as each of them were part of similar, and loosely connected social groups towards the end of their primary school years. In fact, they had been each other's first kiss, at a party when they were 13. Something that Nick had not thought much about after the fact, and Tara had revealed was part of what made her realise she ‘didn’t like kissing guys,’ when they had reconnected a few years later.

The friendship between the three of them had really been formed when they’d run into each other at rich boy Harry Greene’s 16th birthday party. They had all agreed immediately that Harry was a dick, but threw good parties. It was at this party that Tara had come out to Nick, and introduced him to her girlfriend Darcy. They had become firm friends from that day on. A friendship so important to Nick, that Tara and Darcy had been the first people he himself had come out to when he was having what he had termed his ‘full on gay crisis,’ after watching Pirates of the Caribbean for the millionth time, and realising his attraction, not only to Elizabeth, but also to Will.

The three of them were all so integral to each other and had gone through so many important life events together. The first being Nick and Darcy supporting Tara through the difficulties she’d had with people's reactions when she had come out publicly. Then Tara and Darcy supporting Nick through his questioning, helping him settle on identifying as bisexual, and eventually coming out in uni. And, most recently, Darcy’s realisation that they are not comfortable using female pronouns and transitioning to using they/them pronouns a few years ago. Allowing them to truly become the happiest, and most carefree version of themself that Nick and Tara have ever witnessed. They have all been through so much together, that they know they are bonded for life.

As they cross the road to take the last turn down Tara and Darcy’s street, a piece of paper pinned to a noticeboard flapping aggressively in the wind catches Darcy’s attention. They bound over to reposition the pins to stop the incessant flapping, and suddenly they’re spinning around on their heels, yelping “Nick!” so abruptly and loudly that it comes out as more of a shriek than a word, all the while motioning wildly for his attention with their hands.

Nick and Tara approach with equal parts curiosity and apprehension to find out what has caused the sudden change in demeanour. As they step up to the noticeboard, Darcy practically shoves the notice, which they’ve now torn from the board altogether, in Nick’s face, and says “it’s perfect, we would practically be neighbours!”

As Nick takes the paper from Darcy’s hand, and holds it back further than the one centimetre in front of his face that Darcy had been holding it, so he can actually read it. He realises what they’re talking about, and lets a small smile creep on to his face. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up too much, but this really does seem like it might just be perfect.

“What is it? What’s going on?” Tara asks, now the only one not in the loop with what is happening. Nick hands the flyer over to her so she can see for herself.

“Darcy found this” he says, while turning in a small circle looking around like he’s searching for something. His eyes settle on a building only three doors down from the one Tara and Darcy’s flat is in. “It’s a sublet for a furnished flat, right over there” he finishes, as he points towards the door that matches the address on the flyer. Nick can hear Tara and Darcy both chatting to each other excitedly as they discuss what this might mean for the three of them if this place really does work out. Meanwhile, Nick fishes his phone out of his pocket and calls Sally to arrange a viewing.

Chapter Text

“Thanks again, mate” Nick says to the man from the movers company, signing the delivery slip and picking up the last box of his belongings from the entry before closing the door. Nick walks through to the dining table and places the box down on top of it. “Home, sweet home” he mumbles to himself looking around at the space. 

He really should unpack some of his stuff. He knows he should. It wouldn’t take me long anyway, he thinks. It’s not like I brought a lot of stuff with me. It’s true, he really doesn’t have a lot to show for the life he has led up till now. The thought leaves Nick feeling even more morose than he already had been over the loss of his career. He’s nearly 30, and all he currently has to show for his life so far are a few boxes of trinkets, a couple of bags of clothes, and a month-to-month sublet a few doors down from his best friends.

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Later that night Nick is sat on the couch in his Badgers hoodie and boxers, beer in hand, watching Iron Man for the umpteenth time. The few slices of pizza he hasn’t eaten have long since gone cold. Needless to say it is Nick’s first night on his own in months, having lived with his mother for two months, post-injury, and then crashing on Tara & Darcy’s couch for the last couple of weeks. The privacy meaning that he has now fully succumbed to his sombre mood. 

The next night sees Nick in much the same state. It’s a Friday night, and he really should be out with his friends. Darcy had been blowing up his phone for the last 4 hours trying to convince him to let them and Tara take him out to celebrate his new rental status, but he had declined, stating he was tired after the move yesterday. This was not exactly true. The movers had done most of the work, bringing all his meagre belongings up to his flat on the 4th floor, and the boxes all still lay where they’d been placed by the movers. Apart from a few clothes, and the beers he had bought himself to stock the fridge, Nick hasn’t unpacked anything yet. He just isn’t ready to pull himself out of his mood, and put on a brave face in front of the people he loves again just yet. 

By Saturday, it has become a pattern. It isn’t even 6pm and he’s already on his 4th beer of the night. He is watching the Badgers match from his couch, wishing desperately he could be on the pitch with his former teammates, instead of sitting here on his own, wallowing in the uncertainty his future now holds.

When the game ends Nick decides to torture himself further, flicking over to youtube to watch some old game footage of himself. He watches himself land a tackle that he would never be able to attempt now, and with a sigh  gets up to get himself another beer. 

The space around him has started to look as miserable as Nick himself. There are cans everywhere from the steady amounts of drinking he has done over the last 3 days. Empty pizza boxes and takeout bags are littered around the space, rather than being discarded properly. His boxes still sit untouched, some on the dining table, some on the floor in the lounge, and some along the wall in the corridor.

He walks back towards the lounge, almost tripping on a box as he passes. Cracking open the can as he enters the room he is startled almost out of his skin by the presence of a person standing just inside the room. Nick jumps, causing the freshly opened beer to spray everywhere as he nearly walks into the other person. 

After a few moments Nick registers that he has been screaming, as has the man stood directly in front of him. “What? W-what?” Nick looks around in utter confusion. How the fuck did this dude get in here?  

“There's nothing worth stealing here” the man shouts, eyes wide. “There's no money, no drugs.”

“What?” Nick is standing with his hands raised, trying to keep the man calm, not wanting to spook him further in case he goes on the attack. Not that he would be able to do much harm, Nick having the height advantage, and also being much broader than the man. But there is a strange man in his house, who knows what might have led him here, or what he might do. “I'm not stealing anything,” Nick responds when his brain catches up with what the man said.

“OK. I'm sure there's a homeless shelter nearby” the smaller man is looking more and more frazzled by the second. “I will give you money for a taxi and a good meal. But please, don't blow it on more beer, OK?” he says, blue eyes open wide, showing clear distress.

“I am not homeless. I live here.” Nick replies dumbly. What the fuck is going on? Who is this guy, and why is he in my house? He thinks, his brain finally starting to process a bit faster. Maybe all those beers weren’t such a good idea.

“OK. You can't live here, because I live here. This is my flat.” The man is gesticulating wildly, as if flapping his arms around like a drunk toddler is going to better prove his point somehow.

“Since when?” Nick can’t believe this. He hasn’t even managed 3 full days before this flat has proved itself to be yet another dud.

“Since I rented it.” The man scoffs, his arms now falling to his sides so dramatically that they slap his thighs audibly as they land.

“You rented it?” Nick asks incredulously.

“Yeah.”

“You know what? I don't need this.” Now it’s Nick's turn for the dramatics. He swings his arms up in an exasperated shrug, spilling even more beer all over himself, the floor, and this stranger in front of him.

“What?” The man now looks confused. 

Well at least he doesn’t look like he’s going to attack me anymore I suppose, Nick thinks as he says, “Rent scam, right?”

The man has flicked back to frustration again as his hands fly up to his head and pull on his dark, curly locks in exasperation. Nick has never seen so many emotions pass over a person's face in such quick concession. If he weren’t so pissed off, he’d probably be mesmerised. “What are you talking about?” the man spits at Nick, clearly fed up.

“There's probably five other people who paid deposits and got the keys.” Nick states, hoping to placate the man, if only to get him to stop pulling on his beautiful hair. Wait, what?

“And moved in all their things?” The drunk toddler arms are back, flailing so much that Nick has to step back to avoid getting whacked in the stomach. 

“Yeah…” Nick responds, not really processing what the man just said, still reeling about the near whack from the stranger, and the mental whack from his brain thinking the man’s hair is beautiful. “What?” He says registering what the man actually said, trying and yet again failing to keep up with the conversation.

“This is my stuff.” The arms are off again. “All of this. That's my couch,” the man gestures manically where Nick has been wallowing for the last 3 days. “That's my coffee table,” he says, walking around the couch adding emphasis to the toddler arms. “Is that a ring? Have you ever heard of a coaster?” He practically shouts at Nick as he gets close enough to notice a mark that one of his many cans has left on the table. “Or a trash can, for that matter?” The man is on a roll now, stomping around the room and really taking in the effects Nick’s presence has had on the space. “I don't care who you are, you're gonna mop that up. I'm getting the bucket!” He declares as he marches towards the kitchen. The man walks past the dining table, through the kitchen doorway and around the corner, and Nick hears him muttering under his breath, “it's like a pig moved into my house!”

“What?” Nick says, quickly trailing after man, not wanting to let this stranger wander around his house without supervision.

“Like a filthy pig.” Nick hears as he walks past the box he nearly tripped on earlier, towards the man's voice.

“You... You moved in when?” Nick follows the strange man into the kitchen, but the man is gone. What? Where the fuck did he go? Nick thinks as he turns on the spot trying to spot where on earth the man could have gone. He walks through to the entry hall. The only other direction the man could have gone. But he is nowhere to be seen. “Hello?” Nick calls out in a last ditch effort to find the man. 

What the fuck just happened?

Chapter Text

Nick wakes up with a slight headache the next morning. As he forces himself out of bed he begins to reflect on the events of the previous night. Did that actually happen? Nick can’t be sure, but he decides it’s better to be safe than sorry. He gets himself ready for the day, and ducks out to the nearest B&Q he can find.

Nick returns to the flat with everything he needs to install his own padbolt and padlock to the door for extra security. After quickly attaching the bolt and locking it, Nick releases some of the tension he’s been holding in his shoulders with a large exhale. Finally feeling ready to tackle the day in peace, and perhaps finally, deal with some of the untouched boxes, he grabs himself a celebratory beer, and heads for the shower to wash the worries of the past few days away.

Wrapping his towel around his waist after his shower, Nick finishes the last dregs of his beer as he moves to stand in front of the mirror. He’s ready to really examine the toll that the 3 days of drinking and wallowing has taken on him. He lifts his hand up, wiping away the steam on the mirror.

“I told you to get out!” Standing directly behind him, clearly reflected in the mirror, is the man from last night.

“Jesus!” Nick just about jumps out of his skin. How the fuck did he get back in? Nick spins around to look at the man directly, only, he is gone… AGAIN!

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Nick is now utterly convinced he is losing the plot. He knows he’s been in funk, but has his mental state seriously declined so quickly, without him noticing, that he has started to actively hallucinate? Figures that if I went crazy I’d imagine myself being haunted by the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. 

There was that intrusive thought again. Nick had spent the nearly 48 hours since he first ‘saw’ the man, switching between annoyance at having his space intruded upon, bafflement at how he was even seeing someone who clearly didn’t exist, and now admiration of the man's appearance has started to slip in too. All of these thoughts, plus the general state of melancholy he had already been existing in, have been swirling around in his brain creating a volatile concoction of confusion and apathy. There is only one thing for it. He needs to call in reinforcements.

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3 hours later Nick is sat at the bar Tara & Darcy had taken him to a couple of times in the 2 weeks since he’d moved to London, sipping a beer and waiting impatiently for his best friends to arrive. When Nick had messaged their group chat earlier requesting they meet up, the two had jumped at the chance. 

Nick knew they were worried about him. He had tried, a little unsuccessfully, to hide the true depth of his sorrow while staying with them, and, while he was confident that he had managed to hide just how much he was struggling, he also knew that they were perceptive people, and they knew he wasn’t completely okay. It had now been 5 days since he had left their couch and moved into his own flat, and he had not yet ventured out to see them, despite the close proximity of their houses. Because of this he was not at all surprised that his invitation had been jumped on, despite it being a Monday night, and both of his friends needing to work in the morning.

He keeps glancing anxiously at the door every time he hears it open, hoping it will be them. This happens 6 times before Darcy skips through the door, dragging Tara through behind them. He sees the moment they spot him at his table tucked away in the corner, twin smiles adorning both of their faces. He feels a small sliver of calm pierce the icy exterior of his mood, and reflexively starts to relax a little as they make their way over to him.

“Nick-Nack! You’re alive!” Darcy exclaims, wrapping their arms around him.

Tara chuckles, waiting patiently for her girlfriend to release Nick from their clutches so she can get her own hug from the gentle giant. “We were a little worried that you’d moved off our couch and into a blackhole. You really disappeared on us there, friend.” she says, worry clearly displayed across her face.

Nick gives a half hearted chuckle as he speaks, “yeah, I know. I’m sorry, just got a little stuck in the grief for a few days, you know?”  

After everyone gets settled, and drinks have been acquired for all 3 of them, Tara reaches out and rests her hand on top of Nick’s, which had been absent-mindedly fiddling with a coaster. “OK. So, what's this all about?” she asks tentatively.

“What?” Nick asks almost defensively, looking up from the coaster and realising he had been dissociating. “Nothing” he adds, his tone more apologetic this time.

“Nothing?” Tara queries, clearly not buying it.

Darcy jumps in “so, you called us here for nothing?”

Nick sighs. There really is no point in hiding anymore, after all he had been the one to organise this impromptu catch up, for the express purpose of talking to them both. “I've been sort of seeing someone” he admits with a shrug, trying to play it off.

“Seeing someone?” Tara asks, this was not what she was expecting Nick to say at all. She hadn’t thought he was in the headspace for dating at all lately.

“That's what I'm talking about. Finally!” hoots Darcy, grabbing their girlfriends arm in their enthusiasm. Darcy can always be counted on to celebrate loudly when the occasion calls for it.

Nick is confused by the reaction. “You think it's a good thing?” he asks, looking between Tara and Darcy. He can see the hesitation on Tara’s face, but Darcy is bursting with glee.

“Absolutely” they say, releasing Tara’s arm and grabbing Nick’s instead. “Yeah. The last time I tried to hook you up, you bailed out.” They were on a roll now and Nick didn’t quite know how to regain control of this situation, and the clearly misconstrued meaning behind his earlier words. “This is good, and the fact that you, my favourite bisexual disaster, initiated it yourself, that's important. OK?” Darcy continued. “Now, who are they? Do I know them?”

Nick shoots Tara a pleading look, hoping she’ll be able to help bring her girlfriend back down to earth. “I mean I'm seeing someone that's not there” he admits, trying to bring some clarity back to the situation.

“They’re emotionally unavailable?” Darcy asks.

Tara, being a little more level-headed about the situation, and also using her professional knowledge, deciphers what Nick means before Darcy gets there. “You mean like a hallucination” she clarifies.

Why didn’t I come to her sooner? Tara is literally a psychologist, of course she gets it, Nick thinks, as he nods at his friend. “Twice” he confirms, “in my flat. A man.”

“Attractive?” Darcy asks, still trying to bring the topic back to Nick’s love-life, or lack thereof.

“He’s not real, Darce” Nick reminds them.

“Right. Right. OK” they say, allowing Tara the chance to take over, after all this conversation is clearly more in her wheelhouse.

“So when you saw this man, were you drunk?” Tara asks, reaching into her bag for her notebook.

“I mean, I had a little buzz.”

“Nick” Tara scolds, “don't lie to me, it doesn't help.”

“OK, fine” he sighs, “I was wasted. But still, I shouldn't be seeing some little blue-eyed control freak running around my flat.” Nick notices the notebook and is instantly on edge. “Why are you writing this down? This isn't a session, T.”

Tara looks hurt. “That's insulting, OK? I'm your friend, I'm not charging you.” She looks at him imploringly, trying to show that she just wants to help.

“But if this thing rolls into a second hour we're gonna have to work out some kind of deal.” Darcy jokes. Nick gives them an incredulous look. “I'm kidding” they say placatingly. 

“So, hold on a second.” Tara interjects, bringing the focus back to the topic at hand. “You were drunk, you saw this blue-eyed, controlling…”

Nick interrupts her question with a mumble, “gotta stop drinking.”

“No.” Tara says firmly.

Nick is confused, he thought that’s where this conversation was going. “No?” he asks.

“Yeah, drink, party. Just do it with other people.” Tara says, giving Nick a meaningful look.

Darcy decides it’s time for some of their input. “God gave us alcohol as a social lubricant. Make people brave, help them loosen up” they say, wiggling their shoulders suggestively as they say it.

Nick huffs a laugh. “What is that, some wise therapy thing you picked up from your girlfriend?”

“No,” Tara adds. “Look around you, OK? See this?” She is gesturing around the bar at all the people gathered in their small groups, chatting and drinking. “This is the world. Join it. Stop swimming around in your own mind.” 

Darcy snorts, “that is a dangerous neighbourhood you should not go into alone.”

“Come on, Nick. It's been 3 months since your injury.” Tara reasons.

“And when was the last time you went on an actual date? Or even just had a cheeky hook-up?” Darcy adds.

“Not the point babe” Tara interrupts. “But seriously Nick, no more hiding out.”

Nick sighs. He knows his friends are right, on some level. Though he is definitely not ready to let Darcy meddle in his lack of a love-life again yet. They are an absolute menace when it comes to finding their friends' love, and get a cruel sort of pleasure in embarrassing the hell out of Nick whenever they are trying to set him up with someone.

Chapter Text

Nick kicks his shoes off as he walks into his flat. He’s feeling a little better after spending a few hours with Tara and Darcy. The two of them have helped him lift some of the weight he’s been carrying on his shoulders the last few days, and he is feeling a little more like himself again. Who knew actually getting out of the house and seeing people was good for you, Nick thinks to himself sarcastically, as he makes his way towards his bedroom, ready to call it a night.

The truth is that Nick is feeling a little better because he has been social and allowed himself a distraction from his mood. However he has also managed to convince himself that the strange man he keeps seeing is actually a combination of the booze, and the lack of social interaction playing tricks on his brain. He is therefore thinking that a good night's sleep, and his plans of getting out to see his friends every couple of days (something Tara & Darcy insisted he agree to before they allowed him to head home) means that his curly-haired, blue-eyed problem is over, and he will now be able to move on with his life in peace. 

It’s these somewhat jovial thoughts that find him crawling into bed at a decent time for the first time since he moved in, and closing his eyes ready to drift off. He gets comfortable, and manages maybe 5 minutes in a light doze before he is startled awake again.

“What do you think you’re doing?” The man is back again, standing at the foot of the bed, arms crossed and glaring at Nick.

After his initial shock, Nick lets out a frustrated groan, and flops back onto his back, grabbing a pillow and holding it over his face. “You’re not real” he mumbles through the pillow, “you’re not really here.”

“What?” the man asks, his voice now having moved around to the side of the bed, closer to Nick’s head. “Are you going to stop acting like a man-child and explain to me why you are still in my flat?”

Nick throws the pillow to his side in frustration. “This is not your flat” he states. “I live here, you’re not real, you’re just… just a figment of my imagination or something.” Nick leans over towards the bedside table, in an attempt to retrieve his phone. “I gotta call Tara” he mumbles to himself.

“What?” the man says again, frustration lacing his tone. “What are you talking about, of course I’m real! This is my flat, that’s my bed you’re laying in, my bedside tables, this is my bloody bedroom, and I don’t appreciate some oversized oaf coming in here talking to himself and messing with my stuff.”

Nick gives up on reaching for his phone and insteads turns back over to look at the man. “You. Are. Not. REAL!” he shouts at the man, he picks up the pillow he had previously discarded and launches it at the man’s face. “Get out of my head!” The pillow sails through the air, and goes straight through the man, making impact with the dresser behind him, and knocking a few trinkets onto the floor.

“What?” The man looks at Nick, incredulous. “Did you just throw a pillow at me? What the fuck!”

Nick looks at the man in disbelief. “That’s your takeaway from this situation. I just threw a pillow at you and it went STRAIGHT THROUGH YOU! You’re not real. You’re not really here.” Nick’s attention turns inwards as he starts to mumble to himself again. “Jesus christ, I’m losing my fucking mind.” After a few moments of silence Nick looks up to realise the man is once again gone.

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“I’ve officially lost my mind T” Nick says into the phone as he paces around the flat a few days later. “Not only has this little ghost problem not gone away, it has gotten worse. He’s everywhere. Every time I turn a corner I’m bracing myself expecting to see him standing there glaring at me. Fuck, half the time he IS there.” Nick flops down onto the couch.” What do I do?” He pleads, throwing his head back onto the headrest behind him. He scrubs his hand over his eyes in frustration.

“That’s a little dramatic” Nick whips his head up to see the man is back, perched on the edge of the dining table, ankles crossed and legs swinging beneath him. “Who knew you were such a drama queen?” the man teases again.

Nick groans and mutters “speak of the devil.” Nick turns his attention back to his friend on the phone “I gotta go T.” He briefly hears Tara trying to convince him to stay on the phone, but he has already hung up. “Why are you here?” Nick asks, turning to face the man, “and what do you want from me? If it’s to drive me insane, congratulations, task achieved, job closed, time to cross over and leave me to my insanity in peace.”

“Yes, random strange man who is squatting in my home. I am hanging around in MY OWN FLAT because I want to make YOU insane. What is your problem? I mean other than barging into someone else's flat and trashing it” the man responds, clearly exasperated as he jumps down from the table.

Nick flinches at that last comment. “Look…” he stops suddenly, “wait, what is your name? You’ve been haunting me for a week and a half, and I’ve only just realised that I don’t even know your name.” Nick is a little ashamed of himself really, yes this situation is all kinds of fucked up, and he definitely hasn’t had his head screwed on right, but his mother raised him with manners. How have I let this go on for this long without even trying to learn this beautiful man's name?

“Umm…” the man seems uncomfortable.

“Sorry” Nick placates quickly, “you don’t have to tell me. I just thought it might be nice to know your actual name, seeing as we’re clearly stuck together for some reason.”

“Uh…” the man’s eyes are darting around everywhere. “It’s not that.. I…” the man's eyes finally came to rest on the mug Nick used yesterday and left out. “Ch-Charlie. My name’s Charlie” he says.

Nick narrows his eyes. “You didn’t know that, did you? You didn’t even know your own name!”

“Yeah I did,” Charlie responds, trying and failing to be convincing.

“No. You didn’t. You just read that off the mug I used yesterday. It says it right there. You don’t even know who you are!” Nick exclaims pointing directly at the monogrammed mug, which does in fact, say Charlie’s name.

“Okay fine, I read it. Charlie admits. “Now your turn.”

“What?” Nick asks, confused.

“Tell me your name…” Charlie prompts.

“Oh! Oh, shit. Yeah sorry. I’m- my name’s Nick.”

“Nick” Charlie responds, as if trying to see what the name feels like on his tongue, and fuck, Nick likes the sound of his name in Charlie’s mouth. “Nice to meet you Nick,” Charlie says, holding his hand out for Nick to shake.

Nick reaches to grab Charlie’s hand, but stops before making contact. “Wait, I threw a pillow at you the other day, and it went straight through you. I don’t think I’ll be able to shake your hand.”

“Worth a shot,” Charlie shrugs.

Fuck it , Nick thinks, maybe this will finally get him to admit he’s not real. He closes the gap and clasps Charlie’s hand. A fizz of electricity sparks through his veins, where his skin is touching Charlie’s. “N-nice to meet you Charlie,” Nick says, shock and another feeling he can’t quite place flooding through him as he realises that he can indeed touch Charlie, he feels solid. Real. Nothing like the man that the pillow went straight through the other night.

“See, I’m a perfectly normal and corporeal human-being,” the smaller man teases, taking a step back to regain some of his own personal space, which had been lost when Nick had stepped forward to shake his hand.

“Uhhhh…” Nick responds. “Are you sure about that?” he says, gesturing towards Charlie’s legs. Nick watches Charlie look down and take in the scene around him. Where he is standing, in the middle of the table, the wood going completely through him, very much NOT corporeal.

Chapter Text

Charlie pauses as he crosses into the living room, hands on hips, surveying the room around him. “Jesus, how can someone as fit as Nick live like such a pig” he mutters to himself. He walks further into the room and takes stock of just how much mess there is around. There are still a few beer cans littered around on surfaces from the first night Charlie saw Nick, although there are less than there were that night so he’s attempted to get rid of some at least , he concedes. 

Continuing his perusal of the room, he sees that although the quantity of beer cans has reduced, the number of mugs has increased. Clearly he’s replaced beer with tea, he thinks, at least that’s a healthier choice I guess. There are a few plates and bowls around the place too, again, better than all the takeout, but still messy!

He walks through the dining room to find more of the same, plus a gym bag on the table, and a few pairs of shoes in the corner, where they have clearly been kicked off haphazardly, and left where they fell. He continues towards the kitchen, bracing himself for the inevitable mess he is about to be faced with.

The kitchen is, unfortunately, in the worst state of the three rooms. Charlie groans loudly as he takes in the room. There are dishes both in and around the sink. Empty packets and containers on the benches, and so many cups that Charlie almost can’t believe that one human has managed to use this many in such a short amount of time. He is preparing himself to move into the corridor so he can check the state of the bathroom and bedroom, when he hears the door unlock as Nick enters the flat.

Charlie walks into the corridor and intercepts Nick before he can move further into the space. Nick startles a little at his sudden appearance, before turning to close the door, saying “Charlie” by way of greeting.

“Nick” Charlie returns the sentiment, before taking in what Nick is holding, a few bags full of groceries. He sighs, “great, more mess” he mutters.

“What was that?” Nick asks, thankfully not having heard properly, as he nudges past Charlie and walks into the kitchen. He places the bags down on the counter, quickly ducking into the dining room to kick his shoes off and leave them on top of the mounting pile Charlie had observed earlier. “Charlie?” Nick asks, pulling Charlie’s attention back to the conversation as he heads back over to the bags, opening the fridge as he starts to put the groceries away.

Charlie sighs again. “Nick… can we talk?” He is not thrilled about having to bring up that state of the flat, but he can’t keep living like this in his own home.

Nick pauses, only half way through putting the groceries away. “Ah, yeah, sure. Just let me get the fridge stuff away, yeah? I’ll meet you in the lounge?”

Charlie nods and retreats to the lounge, cringing as he tries to find a place to sit that doesn’t make him feel anxious about all the clutter. He quickly gives up, realising the task is impossible, and resorts to nervous pacing in front of the television. 

He pauses his pacing momentarily when Nick walks in, but the pacing resumes once the larger man has sat down.

“Charlie? What’s going on?” Nick asks tentatively, as if he doesn’t want to spook the man.

You’re the reason I’m in this state you idiot he thinks, waltzing in here and messing up my home, looking like fucking Adonis while you’re at it. Charlie huffs, stopping to look at Nick, crossing his arms over his chest. He hesitates as he tries to speak, then huffs again, throwing his arms up in exasperation as he resumes his pacing.

“Is this…” Nick starts, clearly speaking carefully. “Is this about the whole ghost thing?” he asks.

Charlie stops dead in his tracks at that. He turns to look at Nick again. “What?” he asks, “you’re still on that? Nick! I’m not a ghost. I’m not dead!”

Nick winces, then continues, his tone soft. “Charlie, do you- no, wait. Charlie, how can you not see the truth here? You literally walked through the table the other day. The pillow went straight through you! Do you really not know that you’re a ghost?”

Charlie huffs again, this time in disbelief. “I thought you said I wasn’t real? Now you’re saying I’m a ghost! Get your story straight Nick.” he walks around the table and slumps down onto the couch next to Nick, despite the mess around him. “I’m telling you. I’m. NOT. dead. LOOK!” he shouts, grabbing Nick’s arm, to prove that he is real, and can in fact, touch him.

Nick looks as though he is trying to defuse the tantrum of a toddler who can’t see reason, “Char,” he says, reaching out to rest a hand on top of Charlie’s, still clutching his forearm. “Can I ask you some questions?” He waits patiently for Charlie to nod, then continues. “What do you do with your day? I mean, when you’re not here, with me. Where do you go? What do you do?”

“I do plenty of things! I- I…” Charlie trails off as he tries to think of what his days outside the flat look like, and only comes up completely blank. He looks at Nick, a sense of panic and foreboding washing over him as he quietly admits. “I- I don’t know.”

He is fiddling with the sleeves of his sweater nervously when Nick interrupts his spiral. “Do you…” he hesitates, clearly not wanting to upset Charlie further. “Do you know what happened to you?”

‘No,” Charlie replies with a sniffle, “but I’m telling you. I’m not dead. That doesn’t feel right. I don’t know what this is, or what’s happening. But I know that, just like I know that my name is Charlie, and this is my flat.” he says, slowly regaining confidence as he speaks. “My flat, which I might add, you seem to have invaded!”

Nick sighs. “Charlie, for the last time. This isn’t your flat, it’s my flat. I rented it 3 weeks ago.” Charlie shoots him a look of derision showing his clear disbelief of this. “Okay fine, maybe it WAS your flat once, but Charlie, I’m telling you, I rented this flat, well it was a sublet actually.” Nick actually physically shakes himself, as if he realises he is starting to go off on a tangent. “Anyway, what I mean is. This IS my flat. It has been for 3 weeks. I think that this used to be yours. I didn’t get much information when I rented it, but the agent mentioned a family tragedy was involved. Charlie I really think you need to face the facts here. Something happened. You- you died. And now you’re stuck here, in your old flat, talking to me, the person who currently lives here.”

Charlie is beyond frustrated now. He launches himself off the couch, throwing Nick’s arm, which he had still been clutching, and the hand that had been on top of his, aside, as he stomps back around the coffee table and resumes his pacing again. “Christ Nick, for the last time, I’m not dead. I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but it’s not that! Besides, this is not what I wanted to talk about at all.” He is shouting now “I wanted to talk about the fact that I seem to have a pig squatting in my flat! Seriously Nick, how the fuck do you live like this?” He finally turns to look at Nick as he finishes his rant, and notices the larger man visibly wince.

Charlie realises too late that he has allowed his anger and frustration to get the better of him, and taking in the look of deep hurt on Nick’s face, he feels his system flood with shame. “Fuck. Nick, I’m sorry. I-” he hesitates for a moment, then says, “I need to go” as he walks out of the room, and vanishes from the flat again.

Chapter Text

Nick is still reeling from Charlie’s comment when he finally moves from the couch, heading back to the kitchen to put the rest of his groceries away. He takes in the space around him and feels the telltale signs of a shame spiral starting. He is so familiar with the feeling now, that he knows staying here and allowing it to take hold is not a good idea. He quickly decides reinforcements are needed and grabs his phone to message Tara.

Hey T, my brain is spiraling again. Can you & Darce meet me at Rainbow Brew?

Meet you there in 10 ❤️

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The drinks Nick ordered when he got here arrive at the same time his best friends do. The three of them exchange greetings and hugs, before settling into their seats and claiming their regular orders from the table.

“Alright, what’s going on Nick?” Tara prompts, eager to get to the bottom of what is upsetting her friend.

Nick sighs, “it’s nothing really.” He chuckles slightly when he looks up to see the look Tara is giving him. “I know, I know, if it’s bothering me, it’s not nothing.” he says placatingly.

“Good, glad you’ve finally remembered that. You’re not a burden Nick. We want to help you. You asked for help, so let us. What’s going on?” Tara says.

Nick appreciates the decisive manner in which she deals with him when he’s like this. It helps him, and she knows it too. She really is great at her job , Nick thinks, before taking a steadying breath and laying it all on the table. He tells them both about Charlie, and how the situation has progressed since they last spoke about it at the bar 3 weeks ago. He explains that he is beginning to feel a connection to this strange man, despite the utterly confusing situation they seem to be caught in, and finally finishes with their conversation from an hour earlier. “I was just trying to broach the subject with him, trying to help him, but he got really angry about it, and then he- he…” Nick falters, his breath hitching a little, remembering Charlie’s parting blow.

“He what, Nick?” Tara asked, reaching out and resting her hand on top of his in a comforting gesture. 

He is taking a few more steadying breaths when he feels Darcy grip his free hand, mirroring their girlfriends gesture. Nick releases a final shaky breath as he finally speaks again. “He- he called me a pig, he said he didn’t know how I could live like that, and I just…” Nick broke off as the tears started to fall.

“Oh Nick,” Tara says as she moves around the table to wrap her arms around him.

“I’m sorry,” he sniffs, “I know it’s so stupid, it just… it just hurt, you know?”

“Nick, can you look at me?” Darcy asks. Once he has lifted his head up and meets their eyes, Tara’s arms still wrapped tightly around him, Darcy continues. “Nick, I’m sorry that he said that. I’m sure he doesn’t know, and would never have said that if he had known how much pain that would have caused.” Nick nods glumly, marvelling slightly at the fact that they don’t seem to think he is insane for seeing and talking to a ghost. Darcy continues, “you are allowed to feel upset by these comments, you’ve worked really hard with T, and your actual therapist on this, and you know that this is not a reflection on you. Right?” 

Nick nods. “You’re right, I do know that Darce, it just really hurt, and I could feel myself beginning to shame-spiral, so I did what you told me too T, I asked for help. Thank you guys.” Nick gives a weak smile at that.

“Darcy’s right, you know?” Tara adds. “You have been working really hard over the past few years to unpack all the rules and pressures that society has put on you your whole life. I know that this is hard, and it is something you, and many people like you struggle with, but I am so proud of the work you have done. Self compassion isn’t easy, especially when we live in such an ableist society, but you ARE doing well. Think about it, even 6 months ago, would you have actually reached out and asked for help then?”

“No, probably not,” Nick admits, starting to feel a little better. “You’re right, I let myself get caught up in the negative feelings. Thank you guys, I love you.”

“We love you too,” Darcy says.

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Nick sits down on the couch, having just finished dinner, and attempting to tidy at least a little of the mess around him, trying to listen to his body and his brain, so as not to push himself too far. He’s had an emotional day, and although the talk with Tara and Darcy earlier helped, he is feeling drained.

He considers watching the Badgers game, but thinks better of it when remembering both how he has felt today, and the wallowing he had gotten himself caught in when he first moved in, which was the last time he had watched a game. Instead he decides that a comfort movie is in order, and puts on The Winter Soldier, before laying on the couch and getting comfortable.

He awakes with a start when he feels someone touch his bicep and shake him slightly. He sits up feeling dazed. Had he fallen asleep? He’d only closed his eyes for a second. He looks at the screen to see the credits rolling. Definitely feel asleep then. He looks around to see what woke him, when his eyes finally settle on the man standing behind the couch, looking sheepish.

“Uh, hi, sorry for waking you” Charlie says, his tone uncharacteristically shy.

“What do you want, Charlie?” Nick asks, his expression guarded. “Why are you here? To throw more insults at me?” It’s Charlie’s turn to wince now, Nick notices, he doesn’t allow himself to feel bad about it though. Charlie was the one who unfairly lashed out at him after all.

“I just, I wanted to say I’m sorry, for- for what I said. I shouldn't have said it like that. It wasn’t kind” Charlie says.

Some fucking apology , Nick thinks, “You’re sorry for your tone, but not your words right?” he says, annoyance evident in his tone. “You really are something Charlie, you know that?” Nick throws the comment over his shoulder, as he gets up and walks away towards the bedroom.

“What the fuck does that mean Nick? I’m trying to apologise here” Charlie says as he follows the retreating figure down the corridor. When Nick ignores him in favour of walking into his room Charlie speaks again, “can you stop acting like a man-child and fucking speak to me please?” Charlie huffs.

That snaps the last bit of patience Nick has, he turns on his heel, marches back to the bedroom door and grabs it in his hand. “I am not a fucking child Charlie, and I don’t appreciate having to share my home with a ghost, let alone one who is clearly either thick or stubborn, seeing as you can’t seem to wake the fuck up and realise you are dead. But I have to say, when I met you, I thought you were a lot of things, but I never would have thought you would be so fucking ableist. Guess you proved me wrong on that one, congratulations,” he spits sarcastically. “Now seriously, you don’t belong here, and you are not welcome anymore. Get the fuck OUT!” he shouts, and with that final note, he slams the door in Charlie’s face.

“Well it’s not exactly like I want you here either Nick” he hears Charlie shout through the heavy wooden door, before he shoves his headphones on, determined to ignore the existence of the smaller man completely.

Chapter Text

Nick is fed up. He came to London for a fresh start, and all it’s gotten him so far is a depressive episode on his new couch, followed by a haunting from the most neurotic ghost he has ever met. Granted Charlie is the ONLY ghost he’s ever met, but that doesn’t make him any less of a pain in the arse.

His frustration and desperation to be rid of the man has led him to the bookstore in which he currently stands, trying, unsuccessfully, to find any sort of helpful advice on how to be rid of the curly-haired fiend. At this point, he’ll try anything. At first, he found Charlie’s presence in his life shocking, then he thought the man was cute, if a little stubborn. But now? Now he needs the man gone. For his own mental health and wellbeing. He can’t have someone that triggers his self doubt around him. He can’t risk the backslide of his progress that would cause. He needs Charlie gone. Now!

He sighs irritably as he puts yet another unhelpful book back on the shelf. “Can I help you with anything?” Nick looks up to see a young man, clearly an employee standing beside him.

“No” Nick takes a second, then reconsiders. “I mean, do you believe in this stuff?” he asks, his trepidation clear in his tone.

“Well, you don't until you do” the bookseller responds dismissively. “So, what kind of encounter have you had?”

“Encounter?” Nick asks.

The man starts listing options, “ectoplasm? Soniferous ether? I have a killer sêance book if you're into communication.”

“Communicating is not his problem” Nick huffs out a laugh.

“Righteous. I have exactly what you need.” Nick watches as the man starts pulling several books off the shelf. He is starting to feel overwhelmed.

“Look mate, thanks for your help, I’ll… I’ll think about it.” He hastily puts the books that had been piled in his arms down and moves to the exit. “T-thanks” he stutters out as he exits the store.

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Exactly two days later sees Nick walking back into the store. “Hey man,” he says as he approaches the same bookseller from his previous visit. “Sorry I rushed out the other day. It’s just been… a lot. You know?” The man nods. “Anyway, I was wondering. Do you have much experience yourself with ghosts? Have you ever met one, I mean? It’s just, I’m desperate to get rid of this one, and I don’t think my sanity will survive the time it would take me to read all those books you recommended. I’m… I’m…”

“Desperate?” the man asks, winking at him.

“Yeah” Nick breathes, his shoulders slumping.

“Look man…” he gives Nick a look, inquiring silently for his name.

“Nick.”

“Nick” he repeats. “I’m Darryl. I’ll see what I can do. I can’t make any promises, but I can at least meet this ghost and see what happens. That work for you?”

“Y-yeah,” Nick brightens, “yeah! How soon can you meet him?”

“Tonight work for you? 7?”

“Tonight is perfect.”

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Nick spends the rest of the afternoon in his flat, desperately trying to ignore Charlie’s incredibly annoying presence. He still can’t seem to touch anything, other than Nick, but that doesn’t seem to hold him back from being as irritating as physically possible.

Nick is trying to watch Infinity War, he put it on earlier to try and keep himself from pacing impatiently as he waits for Darryl’s arrival in a few hours time. But Charlie seems to have taken that, and Nick’s stark refusal to even acknowledge him since their argument a few days ago, as a challenge to drive Nick bonkers.

The ghostly man is currently sat on the coffee table, legs crossed. He has positioned himself directly in front of the screen, and is drumming loudly by smacking his hands against his own legs in different places.

Nick grunts in frustration, turns the tv off, shoves his headphones over his ears and picks up his book. Charlie doubles down, now singing at the top of his lungs on top of the drumming.

Nick checks the time on his watch and groans in frustration. 7pm can’t come soon enough.

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Nick is standing in front of his tv, looking down at Darryl, who is sitting on the couch, looking around like absolutely nothing in the world could possibly bother him right now. “That's it?” he asks. “You just sit there?”

Darryl looks at him. “Hey, you want bells and whistles or a reading?”

“Come on.” Nick jumps as Charlie pops into existence next to him. “He can't see me. For some hideous reason, only you can.”

“OK, there's something.” Nick’s attention swivels back to Darryl as he speaks. “Definitely a presence.”

Charlie rolls his eyes “how original. Tell me more.”

“It's hostile,” Darryl continues. “Wants you outta here.”

“Actually, he's not bad,” Charlie jokes.

Darryl nods as if he’s come to a decision. “You should move, dude.”

Nick scoffs affronted, his ears disbelieving. “I should move?”

Darryl nods “I would.”

“I like him,” Charlie chuckles.

Nick becomes indignant, “no! I'm not gonna move.”

Darryl continues as if he hasn’t heard him. “Can't you feel that, man? There's like this cancer-causing ray of spirit hate searing right towards your body.”

Charlie crosses his arms, nodding in approval “This kid's got a gift.”

“I'm not moving!” Nick shouts.

“Why not?” Darryl asks. “It's not like it's that great an flat.”

Charlie is offended now, “what?”

“Yes, it is,” Nick argues.

“It's got a view,” Charlie interrupts.

“And a fireplace.” Nick agrees.

Darryl looks unconvinced. “Whatever, dude.” He looks around again. “Yo, do you have, like, a diet anything? I'm, like, 99.9 percent parched here. Could really use a cola.”

Nick sighs, “Yeah. Come on.” He signals for Darryl to follow him as he moves towards the kitchen.

After grabbing him a drink, Nick leans against the kitchen counter watching as Darryl sculls it. “Move out?” he asks, feeling defeated. “That... that can't be it. Could you please talk to him and tell him he should move on?”

Nick sighs looking over at Charlie, who has perched himself on the bench in the corner of the room. "Could you please talk to him?" Charlie mimics in the whiniest possible voice, clearly mocking him.

Nick rolls his eyes, “I'm ignoring you.”

“I'm ignoring you.” Charlie responds, annoyed that his barb didn’t work.

Nick turns back to Darryl. “He won't accept that he's dead. I told him to walk to the light. He wouldn't do it.”

“That's because there is no light.” Charlie shouts “God, you're infuriating!”

“Wait, what's goin' on?” Darryl asks, completely lost now, having only heard Nick’s side of the conversation.

“Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah” Nick taunts, now taking his turn to mock Charlie.

Charlie jumps down off the counter and takes a step closer to Nick. “You know what? Do you think I like this? Do you think this is easy for me? I know something's different, something is not right. I'm walking through walls here!” he spits.

Darryl starts rubbing his temples. “Okay. You know, I don't think I can help you. This is one of the most alive spirits I've ever been around. He's not going anywhere.”

“What do you mean?” Nick asks, looking over at Charlie again.

“I agree with him, dude. He's not dead.” Charlie looks smug. “But you, whoa. You gotta deal with this…” Darryl continues, gesturing up and down at Nick’s entire body. “'Cause seriously, that's like the darkest aura I've ever seen. Sucking the life right outta you. It's killing you, man. You have to let him go, dude.”

“How can I, when he won't leave?” Nick spits, his frustration bubbling over.

“Not your spirit guy. I'm talking about the other one. The one you're keeping in here.” He points at Nick’s chest. “That's what's really haunting you, isn't it?”

Nick glances at Charlie, embarrassed. He did not expect to be read like this, and he definitely doesn’t want his secrets revealed to his ghostly roommate. “I don't want to talk about that.” He says, his tone decisive.

“Oh, I get it.” Charlie laughs. “You were replaced. You’re moping around because you got dumped, or was it fired? Either way, somebody upgraded, probably for some guy who doesn't have a couch fused to his arse.”

“Shut up!” Nick shouts, hurt flashing across his face.

“What?” Charlie laughs again, “you can dish it out but you can't take it? You throw shit at me, and bring this joker around to get rid of me. But I talk about you getting dumped once…”

Nick is furious. “You don't know what the hell you're talking about. Shut the fuck up!” He shouts directly in Charlie’s face, before he leaves the room in a hurry.

“Sorry for your loss, bro,” Darryl calls after him. “A word to the wise, dude,” he says, addressing the room in general, given that he has no idea where Charlie actually is. “Show some respect for other people's trauma.”

“Shit” Charlie says to himself, the shame and guilt all hitting him at once as his gaze lingers on where Nick exited the room. His emotions are so strong that he doesn’t even hear Darryl leave.

Chapter Text

“Shit” Charlie says to himself, the shame and guilt all hitting him at once as his gaze lingers on where Nick exited the room. Fuck, what have I done? He thinks to himself. Oh god, he scrubs his hands over his face in defeat. I’ve been so insensitive. I have to fix this.

He follows the path where Nick disappeared earlier, feeling like a boulder has settled on his chest. He searches for the ginger giant, but despite checking all of the rooms, he can’t seem to find him. He retraces his steps, taking in the stairs that lead to the roof. He must have gone outside, there’s nowhere else he could be. 

Charlie slowly walks up the stairs, wanting to take all of his horrible remarks back, but not knowing what sort of reception he’ll be faced with. Heaving a sigh to centre himself, he takes the last step through the closed door at the top of the stairs, and as his vision clears, he sees Nick, standing over near the railing, looking up at the sky.

Charlie takes a moment to observe the man. Despite his height, and the fact that he is looking up, his shoulders are clearly slumped, like he is carrying the weight of the world on them. He can’t see his face, given that Nick has his back turned to him, but Charlie can imagine the devastation that must be written all over it. After all, if there is one thing that he has learnt about Nick over the last several weeks, it’s that he wears his emotions all over his face. He couldn’t hide them if he tried. Charlie approaches Nick with trepidation, not wanting to see the hurt… the hurt that he caused, displayed so clearly.

“Nick?” Charlie tries hesitantly. “Nick I-”

“What Charlie?” Nick sounds completely drained, he turns to face the smaller man. “Come to throw some more insults at me? Kick a man when he’s down, right?”

Charlie takes in his face, he looks like a kicked puppy. Fuck, I did that. That look is because of me. “I’m sorry.”

Nick scoffs.

“Look, I realise now that I probably don’t know you all that well, and I’ve said some things that, now that I look back on them, were really insensitive.” He pauses, “fuck I, of all people, should know not to comment on other peoples trauma.”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t comment on other people, especially when you don’t really know them.” Nick is clearly still upset, “but that didn’t stop you, did it?” He sighs, his mood shifting from annoyed to despondent “why are you here Charlie? What do you want from me, why won’t you just leave me alone?”

He sounds so defeated, Charlie’s heart breaks a little for him. “I- I don’t know.” Charlie inhales, “you were right” he breathes.

“What?” Nick looks surprised by this admission.

“I said, you were right. When you said that I didn’t know my name until I read it. I didn’t. I don’t remember anything about myself. All I know is that my name is Charlie, that this is… was my flat, and that I’m NOT dead. I don’t know why I’m stuck here, I don’t know why you seem to be the only person who can see me. I just… I don’t know.” Charlie sits on the bench seat, the only piece of furniture on the entire roof. 

Nick looks at him, noticing that he looks like he might cry. “I… I really am sorry,” Charlie says quietly. “Most people who deal with loss really find it helpful to talk about things.”

Nick whirls on him “I don't want to talk about it!”

“Anger works too,” Charlie placates. “Who…” he hesitates, “who was he talking about?”

“No one, I…” Nick sighs, “me. He was talking about me. The old me anyway.” 

“What do you mean?” Charlie prompts, noticing the change in Nick's demeanour as he takes a seat on the bench next to him.

“You were right when you said there’s a lot you don’t know about me Charlie. But there’s a lot I don’t know about me either. I don’t know who I am now, what I’m supposed to do with my life. My whole life I knew who I was, what I was meant to do. I had a purpose. Until 6 months ago…” Nick lets out a shuddering breath.

“What happened 6 months ago?” Charlie prompts.

Nick looks down at his fingers, “I got injured. I was a professional rugby player. I’d played for the Badger’s for 8 years. The team, the game, that was my life. But I landed the wrong way after a rough tackle, and just like that,” he snaps his fingers, “my career was over.”

Charlie remains silent a few moments, not wanting to interrupt Nick now that he has finally started talking. When he realises Nick is finished, he speaks. “Shit, Nick that’s… I’m so sorry.”

Nick startles at the sound of Charlie’s voice, almost like he’d forgotten he was there. He harrumphs awkwardly as he stands and walks to the door leading back to the flat. Charlie quickly follows. He rounds the corner walking back into the kitchen just in time to see Nick opening the fridge and grabbing a beer. “Don’t” he reaches a hand out to grab Nick’s forearm. “It won’t help.”

“Yeah, how would you know? And why are you still following me?” Nick shoots back, shaking off Charlie’s hand.

“You can’t drink these feelings away, Nick.”

“Watch me.” Nick cracks open the can and skulls half of it in one go, making his way to the couch. Charlie watches as he throws himself down, grabs the remote and starts flicking through channels. Charlie uses his ghostly abilities to appear at Nick’s side, causing the large man to jump, “why are you still here?” he asks, his tone laced with frustration.

“That's a scary question.” Charlie sighs. “I have no idea. Why are you the only one that can see me?”

“Don't ask me.” Nick huffs.

“All I know is when I'm not with you, it's like I don't... exist. Oh my God. Maybe I am dead.” Charlie feels cold dread seep over him at that possibility.

“Oh, come on now.” Nick looks at Charlie exasperated. “I'm... I'm sorry that I said you're dead. Maybe you're not dead. Maybe you're just very... light.”

Charlie lets out a small chuckle. “If I could just remember something about who I am, or was. I mean, then I'd know once and for all.” He looks at Nick imploringly. “I'm trying to figure it out. I… I just can't do it by myself.”

“You're not asking me to… to help you, are you?” Nick asks, clearly wary of the answer.

“Look. You have two realities to choose from. First one being that a man has come into your life in a very unconventional way and he happens to need your assistance.”

“Right.” Nick agrees cautiously.

“The second one is that you're an insane person, sitting on your couch talking to yourself.” Charlie finishes.

“I think I prefer the first one.” Nick jokes.

“OK.” Charlie stands, ready to solve this mystery. “Let's find out who I am.” he says, before walking back towards the kitchen. Leaving Nick on the couch, a look of bewilderment on his face.

Chapter Text

Nick and Charlie are in the lounge looking for clues, anything really that might give them even the smallest hint of where to start. After their emotional experience the night before, Charlie had somehow managed to convince Nick to help him. He didn’t quite know how he’d managed to convince the taller man, whom he was beginning to suspect there was much more to than he had originally thought. But, after they had opened up to each other, Nick had reluctantly agreed to help Charlie work out who he was.

This was how they had found themselves searching every nook and cranny of the flat for anything that might indicate something about the life Charlie had led before Nick had moved in. “Look, this isn’t getting us anywhere, we’ve been looking for over an hour and not found anything yet. I’ve lived here for a month, don’t you think, if there was something here, I would have stumbled across it by now?” Nick says, closing the desk drawer he had been rifling through.

Charlie turns from the bookshelf, where he had been inspecting the spines of the books, trying to trigger a memory. There isn’t a lot he can contribute to the search, given his lack of ability to actually touch anything, other than Nick, so he has been inspecting every surface and object he can see, trying to help in the only way he realistically is able to. He fiddles with the sleeves of his sweater, a nervous habit he knows he has done a million times before, even if he can't remember any of those times. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” He looks down at his fidgeting hands, feeling the disappointment crushing him like a physical weight pushing down on his slight frame.

“Hey,” Nick takes a step closer to him. “I didn’t mean there was no hope, okay? I just think we need to change tactics. This clearly isn’t working.”

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Nick is knocking on the door of the flat on the first floor of the building as Charlie stands behind him, hoping desperately for some answers. The door swings open to reveal a small, hunched man, who looks to be in his 70’s. “Hi,” Nick greets the man. “I’ve recently moved in on the fourth floor, and I was just wondering if you knew anything about the tenant who lived there before me?”

“No. I think that flat was vacant.” the old man responds.

Charlie feels the disappointment hit him again, but Nick remains optimistic as he makes his way up the floors and asks each of the flats occupants the same question.

“That was a man?” the woman in the second floor flat asks.

“Nobody lived there” the man who shares the flat, her husband, Charlie assumes, says, disagreeing with his wife.

“It's like I was a ghost before I was dead” Charlie comments, as he and Nick stand outside the 3rd floor flat, waiting for the occupant to answer the door.

“Hi. Can I help you?” a bubbly voice asks, drawing the attention of the two men back to the task at hand.

Charlie takes in the appearance of the woman, who looks to be about his age, with gigantic blue eyes, and two bleach blonde streaks at the front of her softly curled hair. “Finally, somebody normal. I bet we were friends.” he says.

Nick ignores him, choosing to continue the conversation with his neighbour instead. “Hi, I'm... I'm Nick. I’m a new tenant here.”

“Hi, Nick, Imogen.” the woman responds, “Come on in,” she says, turning to walk back into her flat, like she expects him to follow.

“She's friendly, I like her.” Charlie whispers over Nick’s shoulder.

“Oh, no, this'll just take a sec.” Nick says, catching Imogen’s attention before she moves too far from the doorway. “I have a question. The flat upstairs… it belonged to a young man.”

“Yeah, I think there was somebody up there. But he was, like, totally antisocial” she laughs.

“OK, maybe we weren't close friends.” Charlie grumbles, feeling a little affronted.

“Kinda like a cat lady, but without any cats. You know?” Imogen laughs again, clearly finding her joke amusing.

“OK, I think we're done here. Let's go.” Charlie says, wanting to get away from this woman, and her jokes.

“OK, thank you.” Nick says, with a small chuckle as he moves to head back to his flat.

Imogen puts a hand on his forearm to stop him. “Like, this is really random, but I've got a window I can't get open.” She removes her hand from Nick’s arm and points over her shoulder gesturing inside her flat.

“She's got to be kidding.” Charlie huffs.

“What? Nick asks, turning to look at Charlie, not sure what he means.

“What?” Imogen says, having only heard Nick’s half of the conversation.

“What?” Nick asks again, now facing Imogen again.

“She wants you to come in.” Charlie replies, using his entire arm to gesture towards Imogen and her flat.

“Well, if it's painted shut and you use a screwdriver to jam it, it sometimes…” Nick says, now sounding a little uncomfortable.

“Oh, tried it.” Imogen interrupts him, “Won't budge.”

“Incredible.” Charlie says, crossing his arms, both impressed and annoyed by the forwardness of the woman in front of them.

Nick shuffles his feet awkwardly, “Uh.. I'd like to help, but I- I have dinner plans.”

“Okay, another time then” Imogen flashes a huge smile at Nick.

“Okay, umm…” Nick thrusts his hand out towards her for a handshake. “Nice to meet you.” he mumbles.

“You too, Nick.” Imogen beams, shaking his hand.

“Thanks.” Nick says, as he hastily turns, walking towards the stairs that lead back up to his own flat. Charlie babbles in Nick’s ear the whole way up the stairs, making his distaste for the interaction he just witnessed, and the woman involved, very clear.

Nick whirls around to face him when he reaches the landing on his floor. “You're not coming with me anymore.” He says decisively.

“What? Why?” Charlie asks, finally stopping his tirade, “something might jog my memory” he argues.

“Too bad.” Nick responds. “You're like an AM radio someone shoved in my head and I can't turn off.”

“You don't think she was completely un-classy and forward?” Charlie scoffs.

Nick chuckles, “Those happen to be two of men's favorite things, Charlie.”

“Yeah well, I’m gay so I’m not exactly the authority on what men are into when it comes to women. But seriously, why don't you just date a pit bull?” Charlie rolls his eyes.

“Maybe I will.” Nick says, his smirk indicating he said it just to rile Charlie up. His smirk suddenly slips, and he grabs Charlie’s forearm. “Wait, Charlie. Say what you just said again.”

“Why don’t you just date a pitbull?” He asks, confused by the sudden shift of conversation.

“No, the bit before that” Nick prompts.

Charlie furrows his brow in confusion, thinking back on what he said. “What? I’m…” the realisation suddenly washes over him. He had remembered something about himself. “I’m gay! I remembered something, oh my god!”

Nick grins at Charlie’s revelation, “this calls for a celebration” he says. He puts his hand in his front pocket. “Damn it!” he exclaims.

Charlie is confused again, struggling to keep up now that the conversation has suddenly shifted on him again. “What?” he asks.

Nick sighs, “I locked my key in the flat.”

“There's a spare key under the fire extinguisher.” Charlie gestures off-handedly, pointing at the fire extinguisher over in the corner, missing the fact that this is the second thing he seems to have remembered in as many minutes.

Nick retrieves the key, and continues talking as he unlocks the door and walks through to the kitchen. “So, there are three other flats here, and not one person even remembers what you look like.” He opens the fridge and grabs out a beer. “Talk about being disconnected, we’re going to have to try something else to find out who you are.”

“Are you sure you really want that?” Charlie interrupts, gesturing towards the beer bottle in Nick’s hand.

“Yes, I'm sure. We’re celebrating, remember,” he says, rifling through the drawer next to the fridge, looking for a bottle opener Charlie guesses. 

“Next drawer on the left.” Charlie says. “There's a funnel in there too, if you need it,” he jokes.

Nick finds the bottle opener, but he places it, and the beer bottle, on the counter in front of him, and instead of opening the bottle, he reaches back into the drawer again. “Hey, look at this,” he says, grabbing a piece of paper out of the drawer.

“What is it?” Charlie asks moving closer.

“New leads.” Nick says, holding them up to show him. “Look, there's an address written on here.”

Chapter Text

Charlie is standing behind Nick again, watching as he knocks on yet another door. This one belonging to the address that Nick had found in the kitchen drawer earlier. The men had spent several minutes going back and forth, trying to decide whether the address was number 425 or 426. It had been scrawled on a scrap of paper in, what they assumed to be Charlie’s, messy handwriting, which had made deciphering it a little trickier than it should’ve been. After Charlie had assured Nick that it was definitely a 5, the men had decided to follow the clue in search of some more answers.

Nick turns to look over his shoulder at Charlie while he waits for the door to be answered. “Look familiar?” he asks.

“Not really,” Charlie shrugs.

The door opens and a man who looks to be in his 50’s looks at Nick in confusion. “Can I help you?” he asks.

“Hi,” Nick greets awkwardly, “this might sound a little odd, but I was wondering if you knew a certain man.” Nick looks at Charlie and starts describing his appearance, “curly hair, blue eyes…”

The man cuts him off, “Oh, my God. Who are you?” The man moves closer, stretching himself up, almost as if he wants to appear intimidating. A ridiculous strategy, Charlie thinks, Nick is clearly a lot taller and broader than this guy.

“I don't know you. I…” Nick begins, but he is cut off again.

“Did my wife hire you?” The man looks around the street, panic evident on his face.

“I'm sorry, what?” Nick asks, confusion evident in his tone. Charlie frowns trying to follow this strange conversation, concern starting to creep in.

“I knew she'd find out,” the man murmurs to himself. He looks at Nick again, “whatever she's paying you, I'll double it.” Nick shakes his head. “Anything you want,” the man pleads.

Nick is still shaking his head, “I'm not looking for money.”

A female voice calls from inside the house. “Donald! Who is it?”

The man steps outside with Nick and quietly closes the door behind him, clearly not wanting to be overheard. He whispers now, the sound almost coming out like a hiss, “that's her. Come back around six. I'll have a cheque ready.” Then he quickly steps back into the house and closes the door in Nick’s face.

Nick raises his eyebrows so high they almost disappear behind his floppy fringe as he turns to Charlie. “Wow,” he says, making clear the assumption he has made based on the interaction he just had.

Charlie huffs and crosses his arms feeling defensive. “What? You don't think I actually had sex with that old horndog, do you?” he asks indignantly.

“Kinda looks that way, Charles,” Nick chuckles as he starts walking back towards the train station.

Charlie stalks after him, “it's Charlie, and that's disgusting!” he exclaims.

“Well, look on the bright side. At 6:00, I'm coming into some money.” Nick teases. There is a man walking towards him on the path ahead of him, head buried in a book, and somehow not running into anything despite not watching his surroundings. Nick steps to the side letting the man pass, and nods in greeting when they make eye contact. The man walks to the door of number 426, unlocks the door and walks inside while Nick and Charlie continue down the path.

Charlie realises suddenly that he really doesn’t know anything about his past, and the implications of the interaction could indeed be the truth. He gasps, “oh, my God. Maybe I was a slut.” He shudders, “a lonely, home-wrecking slut.” He desperately wants it not to be true. It just feels… wrong. Like something he would never do, even though he has no idea whether or not that is actually the case, given the state of amnesia he seems to be existing in. Nick chuckles and continues walking. At the corner he turns in the opposite direction to the train station and Charlie looks at him confused. “Where are we going?” he asks, “the train is that way,” he points over his shoulder with his thumb.

“I need a coffee,” Nick shrugs, “this is more social interaction in one day than I’ve had all week.”

Charlie shrugs and follows, his thoughts returning to the older man they had just met. “So what if I was a slut?” He says, feeling the need to defend his potential actions. “There's nothing wrong with a healthy sexual appetite.”

“Not at all.” Nick agrees.

“Ugh,” Charlie sighs. “I’m never gonna find out who I am, am I?” his shoulders slump.

Nick stops walking and turns until he is facing Charlie. He grasps the smaller man's shoulders, “there's still hope Charlie.”

Charlie looks up at Nick’s face as he takes in what Nick just said, and finally takes in his surroundings. Over Nick’s shoulder he can see a small bookshop that instantly looks familiar. “Nick,” he grabs Nick’s forearm, his eyes widening.

“What?” Nick asks, confused.

“This is it,” he says, gesturing to the store over Nick’s shoulder.

Nick lets go of his shoulder and turns around. “You recognize it? Good.” He nods as if he’s made a decision, then walks towards the door. “OK. Come on.” He gestures for Charlie to follow him.

“This is Pride & Prose. I love this bookstore.” Charlie says, as he crosses the threshold of the little queer bookstore that feels strangely like home. He looks around and takes in the familiar stacks of books, the fairy lights and rainbow flag bunting hanging above the three rows of shelves, and the familiar scent of ink and paper. 

“Do you remember anything about the man? It's important.” Charlie hears Nick’s voice from the other side of the shelf and realises he’s gotten distracted by the strong sense of deja vu, completely forgetting the reason they are here. He hurries over to the counter, where Nick is talking to the bookseller.

“He's pleasant, but a little dull maybe.” the man behind the counter says.

“Dull?” both Nick and Charlie ask at the same time.

“I think of him, I think of sadness. Loneliness,” the man continues.

Charlie huffs, “I don't need a psychological profile from this guy.”

Nick ignores Charlie and continues, “can you tell me anything else?”

“Sorry, that’s all I’ve got. He didn’t speak much, just came in with one of our regulars every now and then. I haven't seen your guy for a while though,” the man shrugs.

“Can you tell me anything about the other guy, the regular?” Nick asks eagerly.

The man shrugs again. “Not really, a quiet guy, always has his head in a book. Think his name’s Ivan or something…”

Nick looks disappointed as he says “alright, thanks for your help mate.” He flicks his head to the side, gesturing silently to Charlie to follow him out of the store.

They walk outside and Charlie sighs, “guess we’re back to square one.” He notices the sympathetic smile Nick gives him, but ignores it as he walks towards the train station, wanting to go back to the flat, both to be in his comfort place, but also to look for more clues.

Chapter Text

Nick is sitting on the train, scrolling mindlessly on his phone, waiting for his stop. He hears his platform being announced, pockets his phone and walks towards the doors. As he exits the train and starts the short walk back to his flat, his mind wanders back to the events of the afternoon. He had left the bookstore with a downtrodden and abnormally quiet Charlie in tow. When he reminded the smaller man that he had a physio appointment to go to, Charlie had decided to head back to the flat on his own, as he had wanted some time to process what he had learnt about himself. The look on Charlie’s face had almost made Nick skip his appointment, but before he could offer, Charlie had vanished.

Approaching the main entrance to his building, Nick takes a moment to prepare himself. With travel times either side of his appointment, it has been almost 2 hours since he’s seen Charlie, and he isn’t quite sure what mood the man will be in when he gets home. Nick practically runs up the stairs, something his physio has finally approved him to do today, and is at his front door in no time.

As he unlocks the door and kicks his shoes off, his eyes roam around the flat, expecting to see Charlie somewhere, waiting for his return. When his quick inspection fails to locate the man, he calls out for him, now walking further into the flat to inspect the rest of the rooms. “Charlie? Where are you?” He checks the bathroom and his bedroom quickly, with no luck. He heads back through the kitchen and the dining room, and stops in the lounge. “Huh,” he says, guess he’s not here then.

Nick spends the rest of the afternoon and evening restlessly waiting for Charlie to appear. He finally gives up around 10pm, and decides to call it a day.

🍃🍂🍁🍂🍃

Nick awakes to the sun shining brightly through the curtains. He grunts as he rolls away from the glare, cursing himself for forgetting to close the curtains last night.

When he eventually rolls out of bed and heads to the kitchen in search of caffeine, he hears a voice mumbling in the lounge. Forgetting all about the coffee, he hurries through the dining room towards Charlie’s voice. He finds the man pacing back and forth across the lounge room, and mumbling under his breath. Nick can’t quite tell if the man is angry, or upset, and his mumbling is too low for him to make out what he’s actually saying.

“Char?” Nick asks hesitantly. When the smaller man finally stops pacing and looks at him, Nick continues. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Charlie groans. He walks over to the couch and flops down on it, his head leaning back on the headrest so far he’s staring at the ceiling.

Nick follows and takes a seat next to him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” Charlie starts, “but I know that I should.”

Nick reaches over and places his hand on top of Charlie's, giving it a light squeeze. When Charlie rolls his head to the side to look at Nick, the taller man gives a reassuring smile before moving his hand back into his own space.

Charlie sighs as he sits up properly, turning so that he is sat sideways on the couch, body facing Nick, one leg tucked under himself. Nick twists his torso so he is also facing Charlie, refraining from tucking his leg under himself, knowing his physio would kill him if he sat like that while his knee is still recovering.

“It’s just…” Charlie begins, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. “I don’t know what to do with this information.” he continues.

“Which information are we referring to exactly?” Nick asks.

“Everything really,” Charlie sighs, lifting both hands in a whole body shrug, before returning them to his lap and fiddling with his sleeve again. He looks down at his hands as he continues, “that man. Donald.” Charlie shivers when he says the name. “And what that bookseller said. It’s silly really. I have no idea who I actually am, but… it’s all just, not who I thought I would be. It- it changes everything. I don’t really know what to do with myself now.” Charlie shrugs, his shoulders hunching even more with the confession.

“Char, can you look at me please?” Nick asks gently, wanting the man's full attention before he starts what he plans to say. When the other man looks up hesitantly he continues. “I understand how you feel. I know that sounds like a lie, it’s not something that most people can understand, but I promise you, I do.” Nick looks at Charlie’s eyes, hoping for acceptance, but dreading the rejection he gets from most people when he opens up like this. Instead, he finds curiosity.

“What do you mean?” Charlie asks. There’s no trace of disbelief or judgement in his tone, only the same curiosity reflected in his eyes. This bolsters Nick as he hesitantly continues.

“Okay, this is not something that I tell a lot of people. It’s not something that I hide, or am ashamed of at all, but there’s a lot of judgmental people out there, you know?” He pauses and Charlie nods. “I have… no, had , somewhat of a high profile life before I moved here, and I had to be careful what I shared about myself.” He sees a flash of confusion in Charlie’s expression.

“High profile?” Charlie asks.

Nick chuckles, “professional rugby player, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. I guess I just hadn’t realised that that would mean… fame?”

Nick laughs again. “I wouldn’t call it fame exactly, but in certain circles I guess I am, yeah.” he shrugs, “anyway, as I was saying. I know what it feels like to learn something about yourself that changes your whole perspective on yourself. Doubly so, actually.”

“How so?” Charlie asks.

“Well about half way through my first year in professional rugby, I met someone who made me realise that I was not as straight as I had always thought I was. It was a rough few months of questioning and confusion, but eventually I realised that I’m bi, and that realisation then made me reflect on so many interactions from my past. Once the ‘comphet’ lens was lifted, I realised that I was only doing things because everyone else was, and I was scared to change, or do something that might confuse or surprise people, and that my real personality had been buried inside me, for a really long time. I guess I just didn’t fit in my life the way I thought I did.”

Charlie interrupts before Nick can continue. “You went through all that, while also being famous?” he asks, using air quotes around the word famous.

Nick laughs, “yeah kinda, I mean I was still a rookie, so I wasn’t super well-known yet, but I was… popular?” he shrugs as if that’s the closest word he can find to describe it, “enough that I was very aware of what it would mean if it got out.”

“Did it?” Charlie asks. “Ever get out, I mean?” he adds after Nick looks at him with confusion.

“Oh,” he smiles. “Yeah, I came out publicly 5 years ago. That’s when the fame,” he copies Charlie’s air quotes for the word, “really took off. The first out, professional rugby player got a lot of attention, both good, and bad. It took a while, but it’s mostly good attention now.”

Charlie smiles at that, before seeming to remember something. “You said, doubly so? You started talking about something you don’t tell a lot of people, and since I know you’re out, you can’t have been talking about being bi, right?” he asks.

Nick shifts in his seat at the reminder. He knows he’d gone on a bit of a tangent, and he feels his nerves come back again now that he is about to reveal another truth about himself, this time an even more private one. He  rubs the back of his neck nervously, “yeah, I um.” he takes a large breath and exhales, centreing himself before he continues. “About a year and a half ago, I was diagnosed with ADHD.” he pauses and looks at Charlie’s face again to gauge his reaction.

There is a look of realisation on Charlie’s face before he speaks. “Oh, Nick. The things I said about the mess.” Nick sees the guilt settle over his features. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. That was so insensitive of me.” Nick can practically see Charlie replaying all of their past interactions in his head as he speaks. Charlie inhales suddenly, and raises a hand to his mouth. “You- you called me ableist. You were right.” Charlie’s entire body slumps as if weighed down by the thought, and the guilt.

Nick reaches out and rests a hand on his forearm. “Hey, it’s okay. Yes, I was upset, and your comments did hurt, but I was also wrong. You’re not ableist. Your reaction just now proved that. You may not know much about yourself, but you just reacted to finding out about my ADHD with understanding, as if you actually know what that means. Most people don’t do that. Most people have a pre conceived notion of what ADHD is, and judge harshly for it. It’s why I only tell people that I trust, and, I do. I trust you, Charlie.”

Charlie finally looks up again at that, there are tears in his eyes, but they haven’t fallen yet. “Th-thank you for telling me that Nick. I- I trust you too.” he smiles weakly at the man before placing his hand on top of Nick’s and squeezing gently, just like Nick had done for him earlier.

Nick smiles at the man, trying to think of what he can do to make the man feel better, when he sees a smirk take over his features. “What?” he asks, dreading what he’s about to say. 

“Char?” he asks.

“What?” Nick asks again, this time with confusion.

“You called me Char,” Charlie giggles, actually fucking giggles.

“Uh, wow, that just slipped out.” Nick rubs the back of his neck again, embarrassed.

“Oh my god, say it again,” Charlie teases.

“No,” Nick breathes.

“Go on.”

“No,” Nick repeats.

Charlie looks at Nick, the smile still on his face, but all traces of teasing gone. “I like it, it’s cute.”

Nick chuckles, “Now I’m never calling you it again.” Both men laugh together, feeling the tension of their conversation ease.

Chapter Text

Charlie shivers as he appears in the kitchen. He doesn’t think he will ever get used to the strangeness that is his life now, somehow appearing and disappearing at will. He frowns when he realises Nick is not in the room. It’s 10am, which means that he should be awake by now, and he had expected to find the man guzzling his morning coffee. But he is nowhere to be seen. 

Charlie walks through the dining room in search of the man, as he walks into the lounge his frown deepens at what he finds. Nick is standing in the middle of the room, garbage bag in hand, seemingly frozen to the spot. “Nick?” he asks quietly, not wanting to startle him.

Nick jolts slightly, clearly startled despite Charlie’s efforts, and sighs as he looks over his shoulder in Charlie’s general direction. He doesn’t turn his body, so he isn’t actually looking at him, but he greets him quietly, his tone a little defeated. “Hey, Char.”

Charlie, thoroughly confused by the scene, asks “what’s going on?”

Nick sighs and turns to face Charlie, leaning on the back of the couch as he speaks. “My Mum called this morning. She’s going to Paris in a few days to visit my brother and his family.”

Charlie interrupts, distracted from his original question by the new information Nick has revealed. “You have a brother? Who lives in Paris?” he asks.

Nick huffs, and Charlie registers something that looks like discomfort in his posture as he continues. “David,” he nods. “My older brother. He’s a dick. He moved to Paris when he finished uni. Wanted to be closer to our Dad.”

“Your Dad?” Charlie prompts, when he realises Nick isn’t going to elaborate.

“Oh, my Dad’s French. He’s not really a big part of my life. He left when I was really young. It’s pretty much just been me and Mum since David moved. She tries to visit him as much as she can, but he never returns the favour.” Nick grimaces, clearly upset by his brother's actions.

“That must be hard.” Charlie says, attempting to comfort him, whilst silently filing the French Dad revelation for a later conversation. Returning to his earlier enquiry he asks, “you um, you said your Mum rang?”

Nick takes the olive branch and replies, “yeah, she’s going to Paris on Monday. She’ll be there for a week or so, and she needs someone to look after the dogs. I told her they could come here, but I can’t have them around all this mess, that’s not fair to them. I just, I don’t know where to start.” Nick’s shoulders slump a little with the admission.

“Oh,” Charlie’s expression clears as understanding sweeps over him. “Well, maybe I… I could help?” he asks hesitantly, not wanting to push Nick. When he sees the man about to reject the offer, he hastily adds, “I know I can’t physically help, since I can’t actually touch anything. But maybe I could, like, body double for you?”

Nick seems to freeze for a few moments with a dumbfounded look on his face. “You-” he eventually asks, “you know what body doubling is?”

Charlie shrugs, not really understanding why this is such a shock to the man. “My younger brother has ADHD. I did a lot of research when he was diagnosed to try and be a support for him.”

Nick looks excited now, “Char!” he exclaims.

Charlie frowns, not understanding why Nick’s mood changed so suddenly. It hits him then, he inhales and brings his hand up to hover in front of his mouth. “I- I have a little brother. I remembered something else.” he feels tears prickling at the corner of his eyes as another piece of the puzzle slots into place.

Nick drops the garbage bag and rushes forward, enveloping Charlie in a bear hug. Charlie feels laughter bubbling up as the tears start to fall, a sense of relief overtaking all his senses. Nick’s comforting embrace only enhances the emotion. When Nick eventually releases him, he takes a small step back, looking Charlie in the eyes, his hands now resting on Charlie’s biceps.

“Charlie,” his gaze flickers between Charlie’s eyes, seeking permission to continue. Charlie nods and Nick continues. “I’ve noticed that when we are just chatting,” he pauses. “I mean, when we’re talking and you’re not actively thinking about your missing memories, you seem to remember small things about your past…”

Pausing to let this sink in, Charlie thinks back on everything he has managed to remember about his life so far. “Oh my god,” his eyes widen with realisation. “You’re right!”

Charlie’s breath hitches when he takes in the beautiful smile that overtakes Nick’s face. He returns the smile, starting to hope that maybe, just maybe, this stunning, generous man might just be the key he needs to unlock his memories.

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“So tell me about your dogs” Charlie says, from his spot perched on top of the counter in the kitchen. The two men had decided that Charlie’s suggestion to body double Nick, might just be what they both need at the moment. Allowing Nick to focus on cleaning, and providing Charlie the conversation, and distraction that might help him remember more of his past.

“Well Nellie is a border collie, and she has been my best friend for the past 16 years. She has seen me through so many moments of change and self discovery, I honestly don’t know what I’d do without her.” Nick smiles, the adoration he feels evident in his face. “And Henry is a pug, Mum got him just before I went to uni, she said Nellie would need a friend to keep her company while I was away.”

“They sound amazing,” Charlie smiles as Nick starts running water to wash the dishes. “I can’t wait to meet them.” 

“Yeah, I’m excited to spend time with them again. I don’t get to see them enough since I moved out of home. Seeing them and my Mum every day again was the only good thing to come out of my busted knee. I stayed at home with my Mum for 2 months before I moved here.” Nick chuckles, “plus Mum has been dying to see the place since I moved in.”

Charlie contemplates all the changes Nick has had to go through in his life, he feels sad for the man when he reflects on just how much he has gone through in the past few months. He is surprised by how close he is starting to feel to the man, given that they only met a month ago. Gratitude washes over him as he thinks about just how much this gentle giant has opened up to him, and how safe and supported he feels around him, despite the fact that they only started properly communicating 3 days ago.

“Thank you,” Charlie says, causing Nick to look at him with confusion.

“What for?” he asks.

“For helping me to find out who I am. For trusting me, for telling me about your struggles, but most importantly, for letting me help you today. I know how hard that is, and I feel honoured that you are letting me help.”

“You’re welcome,” Nick smiles. “And thank you, too. It goes both ways, you know, you’re helping me, and trusting me, and opening up to me, and letting me help you too.”

It’s Charlie’s turn to smile now. Yeah, he thinks, I guess I am huh.

Chapter Text

It has been 2 days since Charlie had remembered he has a little brother. He hadn’t managed to remember any other details about his life yet, but Nick has noticed a level of optimism in the man that he hadn’t seen before. Charlie has been following Nick around as the larger man has flitted between tasks, getting his new home presentable for his mother, and dog's imminent visit. 

Nick had spoken to his mother on the phone daily since learning of the visit, the most recent call being only minutes ago. “Okay, so Mum is arriving tomorrow morning, she’s here for a few hours, and then she’ll go to the airport around 4pm” Nick is pacing around the house anxiously scanning all of the surfaces checking for anything he might have missed in his cleaning frenzy.

“Nick!” Nick's steps halt and he turns to face Charlie as he registers the man speaking, in a tone that suggests this is not the first time his name has been said.

“Yeah?” he asks, wondering what could be so important that Charlie has stopped him in the middle of his task.

Charlie walks closer and grabs Nick’s hands in a comforting gesture, looking Nick in the eye as if making sure he has his attention before he continues. “How many times have you checked each of the rooms now?”

Nick shrugs, not wanting to admit to the actual number.

“And,” Charlie continues, “how many times have you repeated the plan for tomorrow to me now?”

Nick huffs, “okay, I get it, I’m overthinking it, aren’t I?”

“A little, yeah,” Charlie chuckles. He releases Nick’s hands, only to rub both hands up and down his forearms, increasing the comfort Nick feels. “Look, you’ve cleaned all the spaces, you’ve got the plan down, you’ve organised dog beds and food. You’ve got this, Nick. You can stop stressing and just enjoy the fact that you get to see your Mum, and Nellie and Henry tomorrow.” Nick nods slightly to show he’s following. “AND, they all love you. The place is perfect, but even if it wasn’t, they will still love you, and be excited to see you, okay?”

Nick heaves a sigh, realising that Charlie has a point. “You’re right,” he admits. “I know all of this, I just get in my head sometimes you know? And it’s hard sometimes to remember that I don’t have to prove myself all the time to be deserving of love. But you’re right, I’m sorry I’ve been so stressed this weekend, I haven’t helped you remember anything since Friday.” Nick admits, his shoulders slumping.

Charlie laughs, “kinda contradicted yourself at the end there” he squeezes Nick’s forearms once, before releasing them and walking towards the couch. “It’s okay Nick, you’re allowed to accept help without having to return the favour all the time. This weekend has been about what you need, and that’s totally fine. How many times have you helped me recently without expecting anything in return?”

Nick walks over to the couch and sits down next to Charlie, where he has perched himself on one end. “Huh,” he says as Charlie’s words wash over him and the realisation that he is right sinks in.

Charlie seems to perceive that Nick is too in his head to continue the conversation, so he changes the topic. “Come on then, put on one of your hideous Marvel movies that bore me to death, I might even hang around and watch it with you. You deserve a reward for all the work you’ve done over the past 2 days.”

Nick laughs at that and grabs the remote to do just that.

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“Oh Nicky, it’s lovely!” his Mum says the next morning as she moves through the living areas of his new flat, inspecting everything.

“Thanks,” he says, nervously rubbing the back of his neck as she walks around. Nick knows she won’t judge him for any mess he might have left around, after all she knows all about his struggles with executive function, but she is the most important person in his life, and he wants her to like his new home. 

Nellie nudges Nick’s leg drawing his attention away from his mother, and he kneels down to greet her properly. “Hey girl, welcome to your new home for the next couple of weeks.” Nellie sees the new dog bed he got for her, and goes over to curl up in it, his attention then switches to Henry. “Hey buddy,” he says, picking the pug up, “what do you think, hey? You ready to hang here with me for a bit?” He scratches the small dog behind the ears absently as he follows his Mum into the kitchen.

He spends the rest of the afternoon catching up with his Mum, over many cups of tea, and doggy cuddles until it’s time for her to head to the airport. Nick carries her bags down to the taxi for her, and they share a lengthy hug on the street before she climbs into the passenger seat, and is on her way to the airport.

Nick makes his way back up to his flat, excited to spend some quality time with his favourite furry creatures, and wonders where Charlie has been all day, realising he hasn’t seen the man since the night before.

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It’s almost 4 hours after Sarah leaves that Charlie finally reappears. Nick jumps a little when he hears Charlie say ‘hey’ behind him, pausing the tv and turning around to give him his full attention.

“Charlie, hey” Nick says in greeting as he takes in the man, trying to gauge his mood, worried what a full day of being MIA might mean. “Everything okay? I thought I would see you today.”

Charlie smiles, “yeah, everythings fine, I just wanted to give you time with your Mum, and to get the dogs settled.” He walks around the couch and carefully takes a seat on the end, between the armrest, and the rather large border collie currently taking up half the couch.

Nick looks down at Nellie, patting her head, which is currently resting on his lap. “This is Nellie,” he says, smiling back up at Charlie again. He gestures with his chin at the small pug curled up in the dog bed over in the corner, “and that little guy is Henry.”

“Hi Henry,” Charlie says to the sleeping pug, before his attention returns to the dog next to him. “Hi Nellie. You’re so adorable” he reaches over as if to pat her, but stops before making contact. He looks up at Nick and asks, “do you think I’ll be able to touch her?”

Nick pauses, he forgot for a second that Charlie hasn’t been able to successfully touch anything other than him the whole time that he has known him. “I dunno, I guess there’s only one way to find out,” he says, gesturing for Charlie to give it a go.

Charlie tries, but when his fingers disappear through the dog's fur, rather than actually making contact, he sighs and curls into himself. He looks so downtrodden by the realisation, and he had retreated in on himself to quickly that he didn’t see Nellie lift her head at his fingers contact, or lack thereof, and hasn’t noticed that she is now looking straight at him, sniffing slightly, as if to determine what this strange presence is.

“Char,” Nick whispers to get his attention, “look.” he points at Nellie. “You may not have been able to touch her, but I think she can sense your presence.”

Charlie gasps, inhaling quickly as he looks at the dog, now staring directly at him, as if she can see every tiny atom, every quirk, every flaw and every bit of tenacity that make Charlie who he is. Charlie hesitantly reaches his hand back out towards Nellie’s snout as he asks, “can… can you see me, girl?”

Nellie’s gaze follows Charlie’s hand, and as it comes close enough, she stretches her neck, bringing her nose closer so she can sniff his fingers. Charlie is frozen to the spot, looking as though the shock is locking all his muscles and bones in place. It’s only when Nick gasps at the interaction he is witnessing that the smaller man begins to move again, retracting his hand as he looks up at Nick, his eyes brimming with tears.

“She.. I think she can see me.” he whispers, the disbelief evident in his tone.

Chapter Text

It’s been two days since they realised that Nellie could see Charlie. He had been catapulted through a range of emotions since then, first shock, then disbelief, and now he’s landed on gratitude and acceptance of his new normal.

Nick had helped him test out the theory that Nellie could see him, and after many trials, including Nellie watching him as he walked around the room, her attention flicking to him whenever he randomly appeared. Then, almost 24 hours after they met, she had started responding to his voice as well. It’s almost as if, the more time they spend together, the more real Charlie becomes for her. He still isn’t able to touch her, but now that is the only way they can’t interact. 

They had trialled the same tests with Henry, and although occasionally his gaze does follow Charlie around, he doesn’t seem to have the same strength of connection with him that Nick and Nellie do. While the difference between the two dogs' reactions to Charlie seems strange, both men have become so used to strange by now, that they’ve decided to file it away in their minds in a box labelled ‘deal with later.’

Charlie is so delighted by the development of having other living creatures that can see him, that he has been hanging around Nick and the dogs almost non stop since they’d arrived on Monday. During that time they'd been to the park twice, and hung out in the flat, alternating between lounging on the couch and hanging in the kitchen while Nick bustled around cooking, cleaning and generally maintaining the flat. Charlie hadn’t said anything out loud, but he was proud of how well Nick seemed to be doing since his moment of self-doubt on Sunday. 

He is currently sitting on the bench in the kitchen, quietly chatting with Nick while he is making dough for a batch of biscuits. He had almost fallen over when Nick had mentioned wanting to bake, and upon further enquiry, he’d discovered that baking had been one of his hobbies since childhood. Not for the first time, Charlie is thinking about just how much he had misjudged Nick when they’d first met. 

It’s not just the baking, but everything that he has learnt about Nick since they had started communicating properly last week. Fuck, how was that only a week ago? He thinks. This beautiful, gentle man couldn’t be more different from the stubborn home invader I first thought he was. How can someone this open, this caring, and this attractive be real?

“Char?” Nick asks, pulling Charlie from his thoughts.

“Hmm, what was that?” he asks, glancing down at Nellie curled up under his feet, before flicking his gaze back up to meet Nick’s.

Nick chuckles. “Where’d you go?”

“Oh, nowhere really. Was just wondering if I had any pets growing up I guess,” Charlie shrugs, not wanting to admit to his actual thoughts. Well not all of them anyway.

“Hmm,” Nick pauses as if thinking, “it’s a good question. I wonder what you were like as a kid, where you grew up. I guess we should come up with a plan to try and find some more clues soon, shouldn’t we?”

“I don’t know how well that will go. Last time we tried that, we only managed to find out that I might be a lonely home-wrecker, who was so quiet and reserved that the only people we’ve found who actually remember me think that I was dull, lonely, and a ‘cat-lady’ type.” he says, using finger quotes for emphasis.

Nick sighs, “look, you’re right, that day didn’t go our way, but I don’t think that means we shouldn’t try again, yeah?” he waits for Charlie to nod before continuing, “how about this, these are ready to go in the oven” he points to the biscuits he’s laid out on the baking tray, “I’ll put these in the oven and quickly finish cleaning in here, and then we can go to the lounge and brainstorm some ideas, what do you think?”

Charlie sighs, knowing he really has no other way of learning any more about who he was, so he nods, jumping down from the counter and walking towards the lounge, Nellie following at his heels.

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When Nick joins Charlie in the lounge, he has a notepad and pen in his hands, Charlie watches as he sits, carefully avoiding Nellie, who had curled up as close to Charlie on the couch as she could without touching him. Charlie marvels again at the fact that this brilliant creature seems to have understood not only that he is here, but also that they can’t touch, yet she has managed to find other ways to bring Charlie comfort, continually following him around, or sitting beside him, offering him the same steadfast support that she gives to Nick.

“What’s that for?” Charlie asks, pointing at the pen and paper in Nick’s hands.

“Well, we’re brainstorming right? I thought it might be helpful to write down our ideas, that way we can prioritise and create a list of next steps when we’re done.”

“Huh,” Charlie says, I never would have thought to do that, but that’s a great idea, Nick.” Charlie smiles his appreciation up at the man.

Nick blushes slightly and shrugs, bringing his hand up to rub behind his neck in a gesture Charlie has recognised he does when he’s feeling nervous or self-conscious. “Well, brainstorming is an ADHD superpower you know, we are natural born problem solvers” he jokes.

Charlie laughs, “alright superman, where shall we start?”

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“Ugh, I’m officially out of ideas,” Charlie exhales as he speaks, as if expelling the sentence from his lungs.

They had been brainstorming off and on for the past 2 hours, with multiple stops for cups of tea, for Nick, and phantom scratches of both dogs' ears, for Charlie. Nick had suggested that they start their brainstorming session by listing all of the things that they already knew about Charlie, which hadn’t taken them very long at all. They had then made a separate list of all the places they had visited following clues, and finally a third list had been allocated for ideas to continue the search. This list was where they had hit a snag, and currently sits empty on the page.

Charlie feels that familiar sense of discomfort and gloom trickling in, and reaches for Nellie again, refusing to let it in. Nellie snuffles and moves her head closer to his leg where it rests on the couch, as if sensing his need for more comfort.

“I’m sorry we haven’t come up with anything new yet Char,” Nick says, his tone laced with sympathy. “But,” he continues, “I don’t think we should give up hope yet.” he pauses for a moment, as if in thought. Charlie fiddles with a loose thread on his jumper while he waits. “What- what about, we read through what we’ve got again, out loud. See if it sparks anything. If it doesn’t we can call it for the rest of today? How does that sound?”

Charlie looks up from the thread he’s been playing with and takes in the man next to him. “Can’t hurt” he shrugs, not really wanting to continue this torture for any longer, but willing to humour Nick on this.

Nick starts reading the list out loud. “Okay in the ‘things we know’ list we’ve got:

Name - Charlie

Younger brother with ADHD

Quiet, kept to yourself

Affair with older, married man - maybe?

Often visit Pride & Prose with a friend - maybe Ivan?...”

Charlie waits for Nick to start reading the next list, but he’s gone quiet. He looks… contemplative? Charlie thinks, wondering what Nick’s doing.

He inhales a small breath before speaking again, “Char, that’s it!” Nick leaps up from his seat, walking around the couch and not explaining any further, leaving a thoroughly confused Charlie behind.

Charlie gets up and follows the man, about to ask what the hell this idea so brilliant he’d forgotten to share it is, when Nick stops in front of the bookshelf, turning to face Charlie and gesturing towards the shelf. 

“Books!” Nick exclaims, with childlike glee.

“Books?” Charlie asks, allowing all the scepticism and confusion he’s feeling seep into his tone.

“Yes Char, remember, you recognised Pride & Prose. The man who worked there knew who you were based on a description alone, meaning you visited enough to be memorable. And seriously, just look around, you have so many books here. I don’t know how we didn’t think to check them before. Maybe one of them might trigger something!” The excitement looks as though it’s practically spilling out of him as he finishes his ramble.

“Huh,” is Charlie’s incredibly intelligent response.

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They spend the rest of the day searching through the books. Nick carefully removes them, one shelf at a time, and lays them out on the table for Charlie to inspect, given he can’t touch them himself. After each shelf is thoroughly examined, he carefully returns them back to the shelf, then lays out the next shelf worth of books for Charlie’s perusal. Charlie has no idea how much time has passed, all he knows is that they have been through all of the books in the lounge, and have now moved to the ones contained in the alcove/reading nook off the side of his Nick’s bedroom.

They are about half way through the 5 bookshelves lining the wall when Nick asks, “anything?”

Charlie sighs, “no, I don’t think so.”

Nick nods, removing the latest group from where he’d laid them out on the floor, before bringing over another stack. When Nick retreats to reshelve the previous pile Charlie notices something, a small “hmm..” slipping past his lips. He leans closer to inspect all of the covers, and realises that yes, they do all have the same little symbol on the cover, it’s not always in the same place, sometimes on the front, sometimes on the spine. But it is on all of them. He gets up and walks over to the shelves, inspecting the spines of the books on the first bookshelf Nick had reshelved for him, and, sure enough, about half of them have that same symbol on their spines.

“Nick?” Charlie asks quietly, “can you come here for a second.”

Nick gets up from his place on the floor, two bookshelves over, and comes to stand beside Charlie. “What’s up?” he asks, voice filled with curiosity.

“Can you pull these books out and show me their covers again?” he asks, pointing to several of the books that don’t have a symbol on the spine. Nick removes the books, showing them to Charlie one at a time, replacing them back on the shelf before grabbing the next one. After about 10 books Charlie puts his hand on Nick’s forearm to stop him from putting the current book back on the shelf.

“See this symbol?” he asks Nick, pointing at the small square, which contains the outline of a book, with a small rainbow in the centre.

“Yeah…” Nick asks, clearly not yet piecing together what Charlie has.

“They all have it.” he says, looking at Nick and seeing the moment it clicks.

“Like.. every book in this room?”

“I think so, yeah” Charlie responds.

“But… what does it mean?” Nick asks.

“It’s a publisher logo.” Charlie says, stepping back to take in all of the books in front of him. “I think all of these books were published by the same publishing house,” he finishes.

“Oh,” Nick breathes, “wow.” He’s silent for a moment before he continues. “So, how do we find out what this publishing house is called?”

Charlie chuckles, “we open the book. There’s a copyright page at the front that will list the publisher.”

Nick doesn’t hesitate, he opens the book and flips through to the page, showing it to Charlie.

His eyes quickly scan the page before finding the information. “Inclusive Ink,” he reads aloud. Immediately his brain is assaulted with an assortment of images, all flashing up for a millisecond, before being replaced by another. He sees the front of a building, a massive sign above the double doors. The sign shows the same logo he’d seen on the cover of the books, with Inclusive Ink written underneath in big block letters. The next image shows a smaller version of the same sign, this time above what looks like a reception desk. The final flash has this same image featured on a computer screen, set as the desktop background. He sees it from the perspective of sitting at a desk, looking out at a fairly impressive looking office. Not the sort that has many cubicles littered around a shared space, but a private office, one that suggests power and status.

The realisation hits Charlie almost as violently as the memory flashes had. “I.. I think I worked there,” he whispers.

Chapter Text

Charlie is staring up at the massive sign above the door, feeling equal parts excited and apprehensive. This is the biggest clue they’ve found to unlock the mystery of his past, and he’s feeling terribly conflicted about the prospect of what secrets might be lurking behind the double doors looming in front of him.

The sound of Nick clapping his hands together startles him out of the trance he seemed to have fallen into. He looks over at Nick and sees him rub his hands together. “Right” he hears the taller man whisper to himself, before walking up to the doors of Inclusive Ink, grabbing the handle and entering the building. Charlie quickly follows, needing the proximity to the ginger giant to keep himself from spiralling again.

He catches up to Nick as he is approaching the reception desk. This is the second image he’d seen flash through his mind last night, and he is startled again by just how accurate the memory flash had been, a sense of eerie familiarity he is not used to feeling after so long not remembering his past flooding his senses.

He inhales audibly as his senses are bombarded with more memories. He sees Nick turn to look at him. “I work here,” he manages to get out, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You did?” Nick asks.

Charlie nods, feeling his voice coming back online and continues, “The receptionist, her name is Anita.” He turns in a circle, taking in more of the space. “It's all coming back to me now.” he sees a few people walking past a glass wall on the floor above them, he points to two of them, “there's Bill and Karen.” he turns again, taking in more of the space and sees a few more people on the ground floor nearby, “and Michael and…” he trails off when he hears his name at the reception desk and rushes over, realising that Nick is now talking to Anita.

“Charlie? You mean Charlie Spring?” Anita is asking Nick.

Charlie feels a sense of rightness buzz through his brain at the name and just knows, “ Spring. Yes, that's my name,” he tells Nick excitedly.

“Yes, that's it. Charlie Spring.” Nick confirms for Anita.

She winces, it’s a small movement, but Charlie catches it before she continues. “Mr Spring is…” she hesitates, “is not active on our staff right now.” a look of sympathy flashes over her face and then she says, “Hold on. Let me talk to someone,” before picking up the phone speaking in a hushed whisper that Charlie can’t hear.

“Oh, no, she's got the tone,” Charlie is concerned now.

“What tone?” Nick asks.

“The tone,” Charlie repeats. “When you're trying to pass the buck onto somebody else to tell you your friend died!” his shoulders slump on the last word.

“Excuse me, sir.” Anita says as she hangs up the phone, “I need you to go to the third-floor editorial department.”

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Charlie follows Nick out of the elevator when its doors open on the third floor, they see someone waiting for them outside an office door, Charlie instantly recognises them.

“Oh, no, it's Alice. They’re my mentor.” he tells Nick. “They wouldn't send us to them if it wasn't bad,” Charlie starts fidgeting with his sleeves to try and ease some of the rising anxiety.

“Mr. Nelson?” Alice asks.

Nick rushes forwards to shake their outstretched hand. “Hi, yes,” he confirms.

“Alice Oseman” they introduce themself.

“Nice to meet you,” Nick greets, Charlie can see nervousness in the set of his shoulders as he says it.

“Are you a friend of Mr Spring’s?” Alice asks. When Nick nods they continue, “well then I’m very sorry to tell you this but Mr Spring is not active on our staff right now.” Charlie inhales sharply at the use of the same phrase again, clearly this is a rehearsed speech, and he can’t think of a good reason why one would be needed. “I can’t tell you much for confidentiality reasons, but if you’re a friend of his, I would suggest a visit to St. Michael’s hospital.”

“Oh,” Nick responds, Charlie can’t see his face from behind him, but to his ears, he thinks that larger man almost sounds sad. “Okay, well. Thank you,” he shakes Alice’s hand again before turning around and heading back towards the elevator. He gives Charlie a sympathetic smile when they lock eyes.

Just as they reach the elevator they hear Alice call out again, “Mr Nelson?” Both men turn to look at them, “I really hope you get the answers you’re looking for. Charlie… he’s,” they hesitate, “we all really love him here.” they finish, before walking back into their office.

🍃🍂🍁🍂🍃

“I’m Dr. Last. You've been inquiring about Charlie Spring?” the doctor in front of them asks Nick as they reach the nurses station. They’d left Inclusive Ink and headed straight to St’ Michael’s, the prospect of being so close to answers propelling them forward. Charlie had been a jittery mess the entire ride over, and it had taken Nick resting a hand on his knee, stopping his leg from twitching restlessly, followed by him sliding their fingers together and resting their clasped hands back on his knee when he’d noticed Charlie picking at his sleeves again, to finally stop his heart from trying to leap out of his throat. Although the realisation that Nick was actually holding his hand a few moments later had his heart threatening to escape again for entirely different reasons.

They’d arrive at the hospital and been sent to the nurses station to meet with the doctor, and Charlie could feel his skin prickling with how restless he felt at just how long this seemed to be taking, given that he had to wait for Nick to travel at normal human speeds, as he couldn’t simply disappear and reappear at will like Charlie could.

“That’s right.” Nick responds to Dr. Last. “Could you tell me what happened to him?”

“I need to know your relationship with him,” the doctor responds instead of answering. That makes sense, Charlie thinks.

“Tell him you're my boyfriend.” Charlie tells Nick, a small glimmer of recognition tickling the back of his brain as he looks at Dr. Last. When Nick glances at him bewildered Charlie explains, "He can't tell you anything unless he knows we're intimately connected.” Charlie wonders why he knows that oddly specific piece of information, and judging by the way Nick’s eyebrows raise at the sentence, so does he.

“We were together,” Nick tells the doctor, “romantically,” he adds when Charlie elbows him in the ribs.

“What do you mean?” the doctor asks.

Nick’s hand rubs the back of his neck as he clarifies, “you know, boyfriends.”

The doctor chuckles, “I know what romantic means, but I... I have a hard time believing that.”

“What? Why?” both Nick and Charlie splutter at the same time.

“I knew Charlie personally, outside of the hospital. He’s my friend, and his whole life was his job,” Dr Last explains.

Charlie’s heart stops, “‘was’? Did he say ‘was’?” he asks Nick, desperately clutching his upper arm, feeling like he might fall through the floor without Nick’s solid muscle to keep him grounded. He is so by this that he fails to register the fact that he has just learnt that the man in front of him doesn’t just have medical answers, but is also, apparently, a friend, who actually knew him, and could shed some light on who he is, or apparently was, as a person, even if Charlie hasn’t been able to place who the man is himself yet.

“I don't know of a single date he’s been on in the last 5 years.” the doctor says.

“We were fairly recent,” Nick says, “I live in his flat.”

“Nick!” Charlie hisses. That doesn’t suggest recent, you idiot, he thinks.

Nick coughs, “building,” he says, “I live in his building.” Charlie can see the blush creeping up Nick’s skin as he tries to cover up the blunder.

“So, you don't know about the accident?” the doctor asks.

Nick inhales sharply, “accident?”

Charlie has a flash of memory, his eyes return back to the road. It is only then that he realises just how long he’d taken his eyes off the road for. Just how distracted he’d been. The only thought going through his head as his car careens towards the double decker bus that has just pulled out in front of him is FUCK!

“Oh, God, Nick. I remember it,” he whispers. “It was awful.”

Nick continues talking to the doctor. “I was... I've been away.”

Dr. Last looks sympathetic, “It was six months ago.” 

“Six months, I'm sorry. I was away for a while on a business trip.” Charlie hears Nick saying to the doctor, but he barely registers the conversation as he feels his heart start to beat heavily in his chest. He can hear beating it like the pounding of a drum in his ears. He turns around on instinct, and instantly feels an invisible thread pulling at his chest. He follows it, and feels himself floating along as if being dragged along the surface of a lake. He starts to hear the sound of a monitor matching the heartbeats in his ears as his momentum stops suddenly in front of a door at the end of the hall.

He takes a deep breath and walks through the door, following the persistent tug at his chest. When he enters he gasps at what he sees.

There are countless machines along the wall. A monitor in the middle showing a steady heart rate. He absently registers that that must be where the beeping sound is coming from, and next to the monitor, connected to all of the machines and lying completely motionless in a hospital bed is his body, in what he can only assume, is a coma.

“Oh, my God.” he whispers.

Chapter Text

Charlie remains completely frozen in shock, staring at himself laying in the hospital bed. He had been desperately hoping for answers, but he definitely wasn’t prepared to have such a literal out of body experience when he finally got some. His mind is reeling, flashing back and forth between seeing his body in front of him, and the newly recovered memory of the accident, desperately trying to comprehend so much new information all at once.

“What was that?” Nick asks as he enters the room, startling Charlie back to the present. “You were, like, flying,” he says, looking at Charlie. His eyes flick to the bed over his shoulder and he gasps. “Oh, my God. It's you.”

Charlie watches as Nick walks over to the bed, hovering by the other Charlie’s shoulder and looking down at him. “It's you, it's really you,” he whispers, the awe evident in his tone. He looks back up at Charlie and locks eyes with him, smiling as he says, “you're... you're not dead, you're alive.”

Charlie moves closer to his body before answering. “I know, Nick, but I'm in a coma. This is not good.”

A look of disbelief flashes across Nick’s face at that, “well, it's way better than dead! Look at you.” He gestures to Charlie’s unconscious body, “Your body is healing, it's…” his eyes scan Charlie’s body. “You don't have any scars. 

You look beautiful.” Nick’s cheeks blush deeply as he says this, his eyes flicking up to meet Charlie’s. The look in his eyes makes Charlie think he hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud.

Charlie smiles at Nick’s before sighing. “It doesn't matter how I look. Six months, that's a long time to be in a coma…”

Nick interrupts before he can continue, “we're here now. Let's do something.”

“Like what?” Charlie asks, “Neither of us are doctors Nick, what exactly are we going to be able to do here?”

“Like... I don't know. Maybe there’s a way that we can, like, put you back in your body again?”

Charlie has literally no clue how to even attempt to do that, but he decides to humour Nick anyway, “okay, so, I need to find a way to put myself together again.” he looks at his body again and gets an idea. He looks at Nick and says “Maybe I should try this,” before sitting on the bed, and laying down, his ghostly self becoming completely immersed in his physical self.

“Something's happening!” Nick gasps, Yeah, yeah, yeah! I think it's working!”

“Yeah?” Charlie asks, immediately sitting up again to look at Nick, who appears to be watching his heart rate on the screen. Charlie looks down at himself, and sees that although he is taking up the same physical space as his body, the two versions of him haven’t actually merged together, as his physical body is still lying motionless below him. “No,” he sighs, “let me try again.” he lays back down trying to will himself back together.

He tries lifting his left arm, then his right, when neither of his arms lift with his ghostly ones, he sighs and sits up. “I'm not sticking.” he gets up off the bed and looks back down at himself. “It's like I'm no longer connected to this body.” he feels despair starting to creep in again.

A determined look settles on Nick’s face as he says, “All right, all right, all right, okay. Turn around.”

“What?” Charlie asks, confused.

“I want to try something,” Nick explains.

“OK,” Charlie trusts Nick completely, so he does as he asks. Looking at all of the photos and flowers sitting along the window sill, which had been behind him before. He gasps and looks at his hand when he feels a warm tingling sensation on his palm.

“You felt that,” Nick says. Charlie turns back to look at him and realises that Nick is holding his body's hand, right where the warm feeling is radiating from.

“My hand tingled” he says as he watches Nick let go of his hand and gently lower it back to the bed.

“You are still connected to your body.” Nick exclaims.

“The monitor doesn't agree.” Charlie sighs.

Nick gives him an incredulous look. “Machines don't know everything.” Charlie returns the look, crossing his arms to show his disagreement with that. Nick sighs, “Fine, then how are we having this conversation?” he asks.

“I don't know,” Charlie admits, right as the door behind Nick swings open.

“Mr Nelson?” Dr. Last asks kindly, “I'm sorry. I have an appointment,” he continues, “and I can't leave you here unattended.”

Nick looks back at Charlie quickly before responding. “Can I just have a couple more minutes, please?” he pauses, then says, “I'm saying goodbye.”

“Of course.” The doctor says, already retreating out the door.

“Thank you.” Charlie hears Nick say, just before the door closes. He’s turned his attention back to the pictures behind him again.

“My nieces must have made these things for me.” He tells Nick, gesturing to the children's drawings at one end of the window.

Nick points at one that is obviously meant to be a picture of Charlie, but more closely resembles a blob with curly hair and blue eyes. “Wow, that's an amazing likeness,” he jokes.

Charlie laughs before his eyes settle on a photo in the centre of the display. He gasps as he moves closer. “Look at this.” he says to get Nick’s attention, “This picture is usually on my bedside table.” It’s a picture of him, with his arms wrapped around a woman with the faintest hint of a smile on her face, and a boy who looks like a clone of a younger Charlie, he recognises that they are his siblings, and wonders how it got here. “Tori must have brought it,” he realises.

“You look great,” Nick says, gesturing towards the photo with his chin.

Charlie turns and looks back at his body, “look at me now,” he says. 

Nick grasps his arm and gently turns him back towards him. “I'm gonna have to leave soon,” he reminds Charlie.

“All right,” Charlie sighs, glancing back at his body again, not quite ready to leave yet.

Nick must be able to tell because he asks, “Want me to wait downstairs?”

Charlie shakes his head. “No, no, that's sweet. You should go.” he gives Nick a small smile. “Thank you for helping me.”

“It was my pleasure,” Nick practically beams. His face turns serious again and he asks, “are you sure you don't want to come back with me? After all, it is your flat.”

“After I made it here, I…” Charlie pauses, “...can't imagine leaving myself, you know?”

Nick gives a reassuring smile, “OK, I know, I just… It just feels weird leaving you here alone.”

“I don't know where else I belong,” Charlie admits.

Dr. Last opens the door again, “Mr Nelson. I'm sorry.” he says, indicating he can’t leave Nick unattended any longer.

Nick looks back over at Charlie, locking eyes with him before saying, “Goodbye, Charlie.”

“Goodbye.” Charlie says. He watches Nick leave the room, and glances back at his body. Realising he needs just one more glimpse of Nick to give him the courage he needs to figure out his next steps, he goes back out to the hallway, and watches Nick leave. He stops near the nurses station when he sees Nick enter the elevator, and overhears Dr. Last talking to one of the nurses.

“Oh, I hate this,” the doctor says, “he finally gets a life, and then…” he gestures back towards the room where Charlie’s body lies.

“You know what? That guy was cute,” the nurse says, “at least he got a chance to hang with him for a little while.”

“Yeah,” Dr, Last admits, “it woulda been awful if he'd gone through his whole life not knowing what it was all about.”

Charlie feels himself welling up, and quickly walks away from the conversation. He makes it halfway back towards his room when he hears children giggling behind him, the sound so familiar he instantly turns towards it, just in time to watch his nieces run around the corner, coming from the direction of the elevators Nick had just left through.

“Liv?” he says, seeing the 4-year-old running towards him, followed closely by her older sister, “Allie-Cat?” The girls race past him towards his room, and he follows them. “Oh, my God, you guys got so big!” he gasps as they disappear through the doorway.

“Beat ya!” he hears Olivia say as he reaches the room.

“Did not!” Allie grumbles.

“Did too!”

“Did not!” The girls continue arguing, each grabbing one of his hands, as they continue to shout over his body.

“Did too!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!” 

“How could I feel him and not you guys?” Charlie says looking at his hands as he realises that he can’t feel that warm tingling sensation he’d felt earlier when Nick had held his hand.

“Did not!” the girls continue, completely oblivious to their uncle standing in the room with them.

“Did too!”

A woman’s voice interrupts the girls from the doorway, “Oh, that's funny.”

Charlie turns and watches her walk in, a bunch of flowers in her hands, “Tori,” he smiles.

“I remember saying no running, no screaming!” Tori continues, placing the flowers in the vase on the window sill.

“Tori, can you hear me?” Charlie asks his older sister.

Tori continues moving around the room, rearranging and sorting as she goes, still addressing her children, “calm down, I'm serious.”

“I guess not,” Charlie sighs, realising his sister shows no signs of knowing he is there.

He looks back over at his nieces and hears them quietly talking to his body, “I hope you feel better” Liv says.

Allie adds, “Get well soon. I love you.” 

The girls continue talking to him and Charlie watches as Tori smiles watching the interaction. “It's so sweet you guys come and visit me,” he tells her, even though he knows she can’t hear him.

There’s a small knock on the door, and a doctor Charlie doesn’t recognise walks in. “Excuse me? Mrs Spring-Holden, hi.” he says, putting his hand out for Tori to shake.

“Hi,” Tori says, eyeing the hand but not shaking it.

“There’s the Tori I know and love,” Charlie chuckles.

The doctor lowers his hand, but continues, “could I have a quick word?” he asks.

“Sure,” Tori says, and follows him over to the doorway, where the girls won’t overhear. Charlie follows, instantly suspicious of the man.

“First of all, I hope you know how sorry we are that this happened to someone as young as Charlie” the doctor starts.

Charlie scoffs, recognising the insincerity in his voice. “Please. This guy couldn’t care less about being here right now.”

“Because of his connection to Dr. Last,” the doctor continues, “we've taken some extraordinary measures to make him feel more comfortable these last six months.”

Tori is nodding at the doctor, and Charlie can tell she just wants him to get on with it. Tori’s eyes flick back over to the girls just in time to see Liv’s little hand reaching towards the buttons on the monitor. “Liv, don’t touch that!” she shouts. “Allie, can you watch your sister while I talk to the doctor please?” she asks her older daughter. She turns her attention back to the doctor.

The doctor continues, “This is hard to say, um, with Mr Spring’s medical history, he spent quite a lot of time in and out of hospitals when he was younger.” Tori looks suspicious now, Charlie knows she hates to have to relive their traumatic teenage years, so he isn’t surprised to see the look, “because of his bouts of self-harm, he was asked to sign release forms.”

“OK.” Tori says hesitantly.

“I don't like the sound of this,” Charlie says, matching his sister's wariness.

“Did you know your brother’s opinion about artificially prolonging life?” the doctor asks.

Tori takes a sharp inhale of breath before responding, “no.”

“He was against it,” the doctor says bluntly.

“Really?” Tori asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Charlie is starting to panic, “OK, that was before. I am completely for it now.”

The doctor steam rolls on, “Honestly, most with his history of mental illness feel that way.”

“Not me! I'm perfectly happy,” Charlie practically shouts. “Come on, Tori! You have got to feel me, I'm your brother! Where’s that older sister magic now?”

Tori is eerily calm when she asks, “but there's still some brain activity, isn't there? People have woken up from this kind of coma.”

“Not on any record I've found,” the doctor says.

Charlie is really starting to hate this guy, “of course they have! Otherwise, what am I doing here?” he can hear the desperation in his own voice.

Tori’s eyes flick over to her brother and daughters again, where the two girls have climbed up on the bed and are practically squashing him as they are both laying on top of him.

“Girls, what are you doing?” she admonishes.

“We’re giving uncle Charlie a hug,” Allie says as she looks up at her mother.

Tori gives them a small smile, “Come on, get down. You’re squashing him.” she says, walking over to help the girls get down safely. Once they’re on the ground again, she takes both their hands and leads them out of the room.

The doctor follows behind her, halting her progress, “Mrs Spring-Holden, Charlie did sign a release. But, on Dr Last’s insistence, we won't take any terminal action without your explicit approval.” The doctor continues talking, completely ignoring the fact that the two young girls can now hear the conversation, “Now, I've prepared this paperwork…”

“Don't sign that. I'm here!” Charlie shouts.

The doctor is still talking “...if you decide to sign…”

Tori cuts him off “I'll think about it.”

Charlie pleads with his sister, “Tori, I'll baby-sit more, I swear!”

The doctor is still talking, Charlie is not a violent person, but he is just about ready to punch this man in the face. “We sometimes find that it's easier,” he continues, in his annoying nasal voice, “just to ask God's forgiveness and not prolong the inevitable.”

Tori cuts him off, “I said I'd think about it,” she reiterates, leaving no room for arguing as she snatches the paperwork from the doctor, and storms off towards the elevator with Allie and Liv in tow.

“Thank you, Tori,” Charlie sighs, feeling an immense sense of relief, “you always look out for me.”

Chapter Text

When Nick returns to the flat, he is greeted by an excited Nellie just inside the door. He reaches down to pat her as he looks around that flat, noticing just how empty it feels without Charlie around. Nellie looks behind Nick and whines, as if also noticing the shorter man's absence.

“I know girl” Nick says, agreeing with her disappointment, “but Charlie is back with his body now. He’s where he needs to be. We’re just going to have to learn to live without him.” Nick sniffs back a tear as the realisation that he will probably never see Charlie again hits him.

Not knowing what to do with himself he heads into the kitchen, grabbing out baking trays and random ingredients as if on autopilot. Nellie watches him as he moves around the room, gathering everything he needs. He starts mixing ingredients together, becoming completely immersed in the process of baking, attempting to distract himself. He has become so used to Charlie’s presence over the past 5 weeks that the silence in his absence is almost eerie. Pausing his baking, Nick turns his speaker on and opens up spotify on his phone, pressing play on the first playlist he sees, not caring what it is, he just needs something to drown out his thoughts as he allows the stress baking to take over.

🍃🍂🍁🍂🍃

A few hours later Nick is pottering around the kitchen, tidying up after himself. In his stress baking haze he’d managed to bake 3 batches of cookies, a tray of brownies, and an apple pie. He is drying the last of the baking trays, trying and failing not to think of Charlie again. The man had popped into his mind constantly over the last few hours. An insistent buzzing thought that simply would not go away.

Washing the dishes had brought up the memory of the night Charlie had first body doubled with him, sitting perched on the kitchen counter while Nick buried his hands in the suds-filled sink. Opening the fridge had reminded him of Charlie scolding him every time he’d grabbed another beer during their first few interactions. The sound of the dogs’ nails on the floor reminded him of Nellie following Charlie around everywhere he went. Opening the drawer to get out utensils reminded him of finding their first clue to Charlie’s past, and the pure joy that had radiated from the smaller man at the discovery. Despite his best efforts to push all thoughts of Charlie from his mind, the smaller man simply would not be ignored by his brain.

Nick sighed, giving in to the thoughts and finally allowing them to take over. He simply didn’t have the energy to fight them anymore. Charlie had become such a large part of his life in such a short amount of time, that almost everything Nick did caused a wave of nostalgia to wash over him.

Now reflecting on all of these memories and actually allowing them in, Nick starts to realise just how much he is going to miss Charlie, and how important he has become to him. He continues absent mindedly tidying as his mind continues to wander. A series of memories play through his mind, Charlie’s joy when he realised Nellie could see him. The sad look on his face when he thought they’d run out of leads, and the way the look had pulled at Nick’s heart. The elated grin that had overtaken Charlie’s face when he’d remembered working at Inclusive Ink. Charlie laughing. His sparkling blue eyes. His adorable dimples. His perfect curls. How beautiful he looks when he blushes.

Wait… how beautiful he looks when he blushes… what? Nick freezes in shock. A few moments later Nick almost drops the tray he’s drying, oh shit… I like Charlie Spring, in a romantic way, not just a friend way he realises.

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Nick has finished tidying up, and putting all of his baked goods away. He is sat on the couch with Henry on his lap, and Nellie curled up on the cushion next to him, her head resting on his thigh, allowing his memories of Charlie to run rampant in his brain as he reflects on all their interactions under a new light, now that he has realised his feelings. 

When he hears a knock on the door. He gets up to retrieve the pizza he’d ordered earlier, paying and thanking the delivery boy. Just as he walks back to the couch and puts the pizza box down on the coffee table, he hears another knock at the door. Confused, he goes back to answer it, opening the door to see his downstairs neighbour Imogen grinning at him.

“I'm locked out” she says, rolling her eyes at herself, “can I hang with you until the locksmith gets here?” she asks, holding up a bottle of wine.

“Uh… sure,” Nick shrugs, “I just had pizza delivered, do you want some?” he asks, secretly grateful to not have to spend the evening alone with his own thoughts anymore. The two sit on the couch, eating pizza, and drinking the wine Imogen brought, while she chats animatedly. An hour passes like this when Nick thinks to ask, “The locksmith, does he know to ring my flat?”

“I think so,” Imogen shrugs before changing topics again. “This is fun isn’t it. I like hanging out with you.” Suddenly she leans closer to him, batting her eyelashes and asks, “do you like me?”

“What?” Nick asks, flabbergasted.

“I really like you Nick,” she whispers, not making eye contact. When she looks at him again she continues, “you don’t have to reply right now, I just wanted you to know.”

Nick swallows feeling uncomfortable, he’s not sure how to respond to her sudden admission. He has literally just realised that he has romantic feelings for Charlie, only hours after he had to say goodbye to the man forever, and now his extremely bubbly neighbour has thrown herself in the mix. His heart is telling him to pursue his feelings for Charlie, but his head knows that he needs to let Charlie go. There is no point torturing himself with these newfound feelings when he is never going to see the man again, as much as he desperately wants to. But what about Imogen? He knows she’s interested, and that he definitely isn’t, not like that anyway. He just wants to be friends, but he is also terrible at letting people down, he’s far too much of a people pleaser for that.

“Where's your bathroom?” Imogen asks, changing the topic again before Nick can decide what to do.

“Oh, it's right down the hall there,” Nick says, pointing at the bathroom door.

“OK,” Imogen bounces to her feet and practically skips to the bathroom.

Nick watches the display, feeling bewildered, when suddenly Charlie appears in front of him. “Charlie!” he gasps.

Chapter Text

“Charlie!,” Nick gasps.

“Yeah?” Charlie asks, looking confused.

Nick smiles, “no, I just... I didn't think you were gonna come back. I thought you were gonna stay at the hospital with your body.” he explains.

Charlie sighs and looks down, “it's terrible. They're trying to get my sister to sign papers authorizing permission to take me off of life support.” he says, looking more downtrodden than Nick has ever seen him.

“No! What? They can't do that!” Nick exclaims, taken aback by the news.

“I know. I said that.” Charlie says, his frustration evident in his voice, “nobody could hear me, and I just wanted to talk to you about it.” Nick reaches an arm out to rest on Charlie’s bicep, the action intended to both comfort the smaller man, and to prove to himself that Charlie is really here in front of him.

Suddenly Imogen’s voice calls from the hallway, “Nick?”

Both men look towards the voice. “Uh, just a minute!” Nick says realising he had completely forgotten about her presence. Returning his attention to Charlie, he registers the brief look of surprise on his face, before his expression settles into one of defeat again.

“Well, that didn't take very long,” Charlie huffs.

“No,” Nick is quick to try and explain, “no, she barged in. She got locked out of her flat.”

Charlie doesn’t look like he believes it, “you don't have to explain, Nick. I get it.” he says.

Nick’s stress levels are rapidly increasing again, he needs Charlie to understand, “no, you don't get anything. She's using the bathroom…”

“Really?” Charlie asks, “and what exactly does she need your help with in the bathroom?”

“I- I don’t know,” Nick admits.

“Nick, can I ask a favour?” Imogen calls again.

“Well go on then, go see what she so desperately needs your help with,” Charlie says, gesturing towards the bathroom.

Nick narrows his eyes at him, “you know, you sound jealous.”

“Oh, please,” Charlie scoffs.

“You do,” Nick teases, a tiny bit of hope bubbling in his chest at the thought of Charlie’s jealousy.

“Are you talking to someone?” Imogen asks, as she opens the door and comes out into the hallway. “what's going on?” she asks.

“N-Nothing.” Nick gulps, feeling uncomfortable, and not knowing what to do with himself.

No one speaks for a few moments before Charlie sighs, “Nick, just do it.”

“What?” Nick asks, confused.

“Go ahead, be with her,” Charlie gestures towards her again, “It's what you both want.”

“No, it isn't,” Nick says, begging for Charlie to understand.

“Are you all right?” Imogen asks, but Nick ignores her, his full focus still on Charlie.

“Nick, it's OK,” Charlie says. He sounds so resigned, looking at Imogen he continues, “she's beautiful, and she's right here in front of you.” He looks back at Nick, “and I'm in the way,” he says, before walking away.

“No, you're not” Nick insists, when Charlie doesn’t stop walking he calls out, “Charlie. Charlie!” but the smaller man ignores his cries, and before Nick can reassure him, he vanishes again.

“It’s Imogen,” he hears Imogen say, from where she is still standing behind him. He sighs, not quite able to believe the mess he has somehow just landed in. “Anyway, I just wanted to ask you if I could borrow a jumper? I’m a bit cold.”

“Imogen, I…” Nick pauses, thinking about what to say. “About earlier. You’re a really nice person, but… I don’t like you like that.” he feels like a bumbling idiot, and is overwhelmed with the fear that he may have just lost Charlie forever again. “It’s not anything to do with you, I just don’t think we really… fit together,” he looks at Imogen, but memories of Charlie start flashing through his brain, the same memories that had helped him realise his feelings for the man earlier that night. He inhales deeply and finishes with “and I’m kind of seeing someone else… Sorry.”

“No. I get it. Thanks, for being honest.” Imogen reassures, gives him a small, sad smile, “I’ll- I’ll just go wait at my door for the locksmith, I’m sure he’s nearly here. Thanks for letting me hang out here though,” she says, before quickly leaving.

It takes Nick a long time to fall asleep that night. He waits for hours, hoping that Charlie will return, and when he finally gives up and goes to bed, he lies awake for several more hours, his brain turning over the events of the last 24 hours. Eventually around 3am, he manages to finally fall into a fitful sleep.

🍃🍂🍁🍂🍃

“Nick?”

Nick is startled awake at the sound of his name. He feels groggy and disoriented as he tries to get his bearings. He glances at the time, 6am, great, no wonder I feel so awful. He scrubs his hands over his eyes before he hears his name again.

“Nick?” 

He’s never heard his name said so tentatively, he thinks, before his brain finally comes online enough again to register that it was Charlie’s voice he had heard. He quickly sits up staring at the nervous-looking man standing at the foot of his bed, “Char!” he practically shouts, startling the dogs awake.

“Hi,” Charlie says shyly.

“Hi,” Nick breathes back at him. “I was worried you wouldn’t come back,” he ventures, hoping to gauge what Charlie is thinking and feeling after their tumultuous night.

“For a while I didn’t think I was,” Charlie admits quietly, fidgeting with that loose thread on his jumper again. “But, I realised I need your help… and… I missed you,” he practically whispers that last part. “I kind of expected to see Imogen here to be honest,” he says, looking curiously at Nick, clearly wondering what happened after he left.

Nick laughs a little at the absurdity of the idea that he would actually want to do anything with her. “Come on, nothing happened,” he says.

Charlie looks down and Nick notes that he blushes a little when he asks, “what did you say to her?” his voice barely above a whisper.

“That I was seeing someone,” Nick admits, smiling at the curly-haired man.

Charlie chuckles, looking back up at Nick, with something almost like hope in his eyes. “Honestly?” he asks.

Nick laughs again, “Well, I didn't mention that I was the only person who could.” When he sees Charlie smile shyly he decides to be a little vulnerable. “You know, I haven't… haven't really been with anyone since… since before my knee,” he admits, looking down at his hands. “Even then, I um… I don’t really do casual hookups or anything. I’m more of a relationship kinda guy.” he exhales a shaky breath before saying “I like being someone’s boyfriend." He looks up at Charlie again, and suddenly feels embarrassed for admitting all that, and quickly tries to backtrack, “sorry, that probably makes no sense.”

He feels Charlie’s hand rest on top of his as he comes to sit beside him on the bed, and when he looks into Charlie’s blue eyes, he feels him grasp his hand in a comforting gesture. “Thank you for sharing that with me Nick.”

Nick’s heart skips a beat at the caring smile on Charlie’s face, and he squeezes Charlie’s hand in thanks. “Your sister really wouldn't sign those papers, would she?” he asks.

“I don't know,” Charlie admits.

“I hope not,” Nick says, before a yawn overtakes him, causing a whole body shudder. He hears Charlie giggle at him before he admits, “sorry, I didn’t sleep very well after you left last night.”

“I’m sorry,” Charlie says, squeezing his hand, “you should try to get some sleep now,”

“M’kay” he agrees, laying down again. He feels Charlie let go of his hand and move to stand, desperately Nick reaches out and grabs his hand again before can leave. “Char?”

“Yeah?” Charlie asks breathlessly.

“Stay with me? Please?” he pleads. He waits for Charlie to nod and settle himself on the bed next to him, his hand still clutched in Nick’s own, before he quickly succumbs to sleep again.

Chapter Text

It had taken almost half an hour of Nick sleeping, while still holding his hand, for Charlie to realise that the larger man was not going to let go. He had thought that once he’d drifted off, Nick would move away from him, but his grip is still firm. Charlie repositions himself, laying down properly, now that he knows he will be here for a while. He lays on his side, his head level with Nick’s, both of their bodies facing each other, with their clasped hands resting gently in the gap between their two pillows. Charlie’s gaze flickers over Nick’s face as he watches him sleep.

He thinks back on the night before. The joy he had felt at seeing Nick again, mixed with the fear that Tori might turn off life support, and then the feeling of utter despair he had felt when he’d heard Imogen’s voice. Charlie knew that his first reaction hadn’t been fair to Nick. The man didn’t owe him anything. It’s not as if Charlie could do anything about the feelings he now knew he had for Nick. He was a ghost for fucks sake. But the pain of thinking that Nick might be interested in someone, someone who wasn’t him, was more than Charlie could bear at that moment, given the tumultuous day he’d had. 

He knew even at the time that his jealousy was taking over, but he couldn’t help it. How could he not compare himself to her? She was gorgeous, even he could see that. She was bubbly, and carefree. She didn’t come with all the baggage he did either. 

When Imogen had walked out into the hall and he’d actually seen her, the realisation hit him that he could never offer Nick what she could. She was alive. She was a whole, complete person, who didn’t need someone to fix her, and Charlie was in the way. So he had left. It had been the most difficult thing he had done in his life, that he could remember at least, but he had done it. For about eight hours. Until the realisation that not only did he miss Nick, but he actually needed his help, made him return.

Charlie hadn’t expected Nick to miss him too. For him to open up and be vulnerable yet again, and then to ask him to stay while he slept. Nothing about this morning had gone the way Charlie thought it would, and he is so fucking grateful for that. He might not know how Nick feels, or what he wants. But he does know that there is a gorgeous man sleeping next to him, holding his hand, and he is going to enjoy the opportunity to look at him, without the fear of being caught.

“Don’t watch me sleep, that’s so creepy” a voice flashes through Charlie’s brain. The voice is familiar, but not one he can place. The voice is definitely not that of his own internal monologue, he knows that for sure, and it’s not Nick’s either. “God what’s your problem, I’m tryna be nice," the voice flashes again, but this time, there’s a face sneering at him from his memories to accompany the voice.

Charlie inhales sharply, “Ben,” he whispers, the memory of a name hitting him. Suddenly, as if the act of speaking the name out loud summoned them, memories of his life with Ben start flooding his senses.

He sees a much younger version of himself, sitting beside Ben in a secluded section of a library, both wearing matching school uniforms. “We’re not boyfriends. Why would you think we’re boyfriends?” young Ben sneers.

Another flash of the younger versions of themselves, still in their uniforms, “well it’s not like anyone else is gonna want to go out with you is it?” Ben spits. 

Ben forcefully kissing him, while Charlie is struggling to push him away, “don’t. Stop it,’ he pleads.

Another memory, this one of a slightly older Charlie, wearing a UCL hoodie, curled up in the corner of a couch, trying desperately to make himself as small as possible while Ben stomps around the room complaining, “why are you so fucking needy all the time? Can’t you just do this one thing for me?”

The memories speed up into a blur of images and sounds, all he can see are hundreds of versions of the same hateful sneer, the mocking smile, the drunken leer, the look of disgust, of utter disappointment. Over and over again his brain is assaulted by these images, all of them accompanied by the soundtrack of Ben’s voice.

“You’re so pathetic.”

“Why are you wearing that?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Stop acting so gay.”

“Don’t be such a baby.”

“Your friends are so lame.”

“Nobody wants you here.”

“Just fucking eat it, stop pretending. Everyone knows you just want the attention, not everything is about you. Jesus!” 

Charlie hears himself whimper at that last sentence. It had been paired with another mental image, only this time it wasn’t of Ben. This time it was a flash of Charlie, sitting on a bathroom floor, his face tear-stained. His biceps sloppily bandaged, small lines of red seeping through. Beside him, a discarded razor.

His breath hitches a little as tears slowly start to fall down his face. He remembers it all. The years he spent under Ben’s thumb. The self harm. His struggles with food. The deep depression he had been in for years now, even after he had finally left Ben for good.

He rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling and trying desperately to keep quiet so as not to wake the gentle giant sleeping peacefully beside him. He must have let another whimper slip through though, because Nick releases his hand, and his sleeping figure rolls until his warm body is encompassing Charlie’s. Nick’s strong arm resting heavily across his body, his head using Charlie’s chest as a pillow.

Charlie lays frozen, afraid that if he moves, reality will come crashing back in, and he will realise that he is not currently being snuggled within an inch of his life by Nick. Because being cuddled by a man who is the literal embodiment of all of Charlie’s wildest dreams can’t be real, surely.

Charlie has no idea how much time passes, but eventually, his breathing, and his emotional turmoil begins to settle, and the reality that Nick is in fact real, and there, and snuggling him in his sleep begins to sink in. The emotional drain from the last 24 hours hits him, and he feels so safe and warm under Nick’s sleeping weight that, for the first time he can remember since appearing as his ghostly self, he too drifts off to sleep.

Chapter Text

As Nick’s body slowly drifts into wakefulness, he feels a cloud of confusion. The sliver of sunlight slipping through the curtains is not the soft morning beams he is used to, but a harsher blast more akin to that of the afternoon sun. He groans and tries to bury his face in his pillow, but his confusion multiplies because his pillow is… breathing? He lifts his head to confirm this, and only then realises, that he has not in fact been sleeping on his pillow, but his head has been resting on Charlie’s chest as the other man also sleeps.

Nick glances at his alarm clock, seeing it is now 3pm, that explains the light , he thinks. He takes stock of the rest of his body, noticing that his arm has been wrapped around Charlie’s torso, their legs tangled together while they slept. Glancing back up at the face of the sleeping man under him, he notices just how peaceful he looks in sleep, with no worries about his mysterious past or physical body plaguing him in his dreams. Nick’s lips tilt up in a gentle smile, and he lowers his head back down onto Charlie’s chest, not quite ready to pull himself from the moment with the beautiful man below him just yet.

A few minutes later, Nick has almost drifted off again, when he feels Charlie’s arm curl up from its place on the bed to circle his back, returning the hug Nick is still laying in. He hears Charlie grumble slightly as he rouses himself, and Nick chuckles at how adorable it is. “Morning,” he says, letting Charlie know he is awake.

Charlie’s arm hugs him a little tighter as he returns the greeting with a breathy, “hi.”

Lifting his head up to look at Charlie, Nick rests his chin on the smaller man's chest as he asks, “did you sleep okay?” Charlie nods in response. Nick wonders aloud “I’ve never seen you sleep before. Was that- I mean, do you… do you normally sleep?” 

Charlie smiles at him, “No, that’s the first time I’ve slept since I first appeared to you, so since the accident I guess,” he shrugs, and fuck Charlie’s gravelly morning voice makes Nick’s heart squeeze with how adorable he finds it.

Nick reluctantly unfurls himself from the smaller man's embrace and sits up, back resting against the headboard. “Wow, I had just assumed you couldn’t sleep.” he says, watching as Charlie sits up and rests against the headboard beside him.

“Me too,” he agrees, “but I just- there’s just been so much that’s happened in the last 24 hours, and I remembered some more stuff, a-after you fell asleep,” he sniffles, looking down at his hands where they have begun to fidget with his sleeves in that nervous habit Nick has so often noticed him doing. “And then you rolled over, and c-cuddled me, and I just felt so,” he inhales a shaky breath, and Nick thinks Charlie might be fighting back tears, “so safe,” he looks up, making eye contact with Nick, “in your arms, and I guess I just drifted off.” His gaze drops back down to his hands, and he resumes his fidgeting.

Nick’s chest swells with warmth at hearing Charlie say he felt safe in his arms, he wants nothing more than to protect this beautiful man, and actually hearing the words from Charlie’s mouth nearly melts him on the spot. The timid, anxiousness in Charlie’s frame stops him from becoming a complete puddle though, his concern for the smaller man outweighing the happy buzz he’s feeling. He reaches out a hand and rests on top of Charlie's own, stopping the anxious fidgeting. With his other hand he gently tilts Charlie’s face up to look at him again. “Char, I’m so happy you felt safe with me.” Charlie smiles, “and that you were able to get some rest,” he lightly squeezes Charlie’s hands, then he prompts, “you said you remembered some things?”

Charlie looks away again, “it’s nothing, don’t worry.”

“You sure,” Nick asks, ducking his head to try and get Charlie to look at him again.

Charlie is quiet for a while, Nick watches as he opens his mouth to say something, only to change his mind and close it again several times. Eventually he realises that Charlie isn’t going to say anything so he squeezes the smaller man's hands again and says “Char, you can talk to me about it if you want. Whatever it is is clearly weighing on you,” he pauses, “But you don’t have to. If you don’t want to. But I am your friend, and I do care." He waits a few moments to see if Charlie plans to say anything, when he doesn’t he adds “Char, you don’t have to be perfect with me. You can tell me, that’s what we do isn’t it? We tell each other things.” Nick hopes that will be enough for Charlie to choose to open up, but he also respects Charlie too much to push anymore, and if Charlie chooses not to share, he won’t say any more about it. Even though the thought of Charlie suffering in silence breaks his heart.

Noticing a single tear slip down Charlie’s cheek Nick lifts his hand and brushes it away with his thumb. Charlie turns his body into him, his head on Nick’s chest. Nick can feel the fabric of his shirt getting damp where Charlie is silently crying. As he wraps his arms around the smaller man, he allows his fingers to play with the short curls at the back of Charlie’s head in a gesture of comfort. “It’s okay Char, I’m here. I’ve got you.”

He hears Charlie’s voice, muffled from being pressed into his chest as he begins to speak. “I remembered more about my life. Before. A-and it- it wasn’t happy Nick.” Nick feels his heart break in two and he hugs the smaller man impossibly closer to him, his own tears falling now. “I- I was outed when I was in year 9. Someone just heard one of my friends talking about me coming out. It sort of surprised me how homophobic people were. I thought things were better nowadays.” His breath stutters, “people would just call me disgusting to my face. And it went on for so long that I think I started to believe what they were saying. It made me really hate myself. So much that I… I used to… I used to cut myself sometimes.” Charlie buries his head further into Nick’s chest with the admission, his hands gripping onto Nick’s shirt in a seemingly desperate attempt to self-soothe.

Nick feels his heart, which was already in two pieces, shatter. How can people not see what a treasure Charlie is? How can people treat anyone, let alone Charlie like this? He feels sick just thinking about how much Charlie must have been hurting, how much he’s still hurting from the cruelty. He can’t think of anything that could have possibly been worse than that experience. 

And then, Charlie continues…

“Then there was Ben,” The way Charlie spits out the name tells Nick all he needs to know about the man. He hates him, it doesn’t matter what this Ben person said or did, if it’s enough makes someone as kind and precious as Charlie spit his name with such venom. Nick hates him. With every fibre of his being.

Charlie continues sharing his memories of Ben, and Nick can feel all of muscles tensing tighter and tighter with everything he learns about the years Charlie spent under the man's thumb. The absolutely vile things he said to, and about Charlie, the things he made him do, the gaslighting, and the way all of it has had such a lasting horrible impact on the beautiful man in his arms has him burning with rage. Nick doesn’t know how much more of this he can take when Charlie eventually concludes, “We broke up about 5 years ago. I finally had the courage to cut him off completely almost four years ago.” Nick feels himself sigh with relief at the knowledge that Charlie had gotten free from the man, Nick refuses to even think his name, although even calling him a man felt like somewhat of a stretch given everything he now knew about him.

Charlie and Nick both exhale shaky breaths as Charlie’s story finally ends. Nick loosens his grip a little, so he can look Charlie in the eye as he says, “thank you for trusting me with that.”

Charlie’s smile is timid as it breaks through his tear-stained face. “Well, since I’m already sharing, there was one other thing I remembered. If you still want to hear it?” he asks, his voice timid, but not as closed off as it had been earlier.

“Of course,” Nick hastily reassures, before settling back against the headboard again, letting Charlie take the lead.

Charlie hesitates for a second, “do you- is it okay if I sit in front of you and rest my back on your chest?” he asks shyly. “I just, I don’t think I can face you when I actually say this, but I would feel better if I could touch you. If you were hugging me, I mean.” The blush that rises on Charlie’s cheeks coupled with the request takes Nick’s breath away for a second, before he hastily agrees.

“Yes, of course Char. anything you need. I- I’d like that.” He smiles before opening his arms and uncrossing his legs, allowing Charlie to settle between them.

When they are nestled together comfortably, Nick wrapped around Charlie like a giant teddy bear, Charlie continues. “I also remembered that when I was a teenager, I had to spend some time in hospital. While I was there, I,” he pauses and takes a steadying breath, “I was diagnosed with anorexia, and OCD.”

This fucking man, Nick thinks, how can one person have gone through so much shit, and still be such a kind wonderful person. He is in complete awe of him, how amazing and strong he is.

“Yeah so, they’re both life-long conditions, they can’t be cured, but I have strategies and I can manage them, I just have to be aware of triggers, and more aware of things in my brain than the average person,” Charlie shares. Nick feels him relax into him slightly, as if a weight has been lifted.

He rests his chin on Charlie’s shoulder “thank you,” he says. “I’m so fucking proud of you Char. I mean it, thank you for trusting me with everything you shared today.” he squeezes him again as if the act will transfuse his pride and gratitude into Charlie’s body.

Charlie’s exhale sounds relieved. “I think I've been a ghost in my own life for a lot longer than either of us realised.” he jokes, turning in Nick’s arms so he is sitting sideways across his lap, his head turned to face him. Looking Nick in the eye he admits, “I don’t want to feel like that anymore.” His eyes well up again, but the tears don’t spill over this time, he looks down at his hands again. “Sorry. I just don’t wanna annoy you or burden you. I don’t want you to think I’m some fragile, broken mess. Like you need to fix me. I would hate that.”

Nick’s own eyes fill with tears, he uses a finger under Charlie’s chin to tilt his face up again. As his gaze flickers between the two blue eyes in front of him he says “you’re not. And I wouldn’t” he wraps Charlie’s hands in his. “But I’ve done so many things that were scary in the past few months because you were there, holding my hand. And I wanna be that for you too.” Nick can see that Charlie doesn’t quite believe him yet, so he shares his thoughts from earlier. “Charlie, you’re, like, the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

His smile is small, but Nick can tell that Charlie finally believes him. Fuck, I love this man so much, he thinks, realising just how strong and deep his feelings for Charlie truly are. The feeling overwhelms him, and he allows himself to drown in it, pulling Charlie into a fierce hug, trying to infuse every bit of emotion he is feeling into the embrace. Charlie hugs him back just as fiercely.

Slowly they both pull back slightly, arms still around each other, their eyes locking. Nick caresses the curls at the nape of Charlie’s neck again and decides to match Charlie’s bravery. “I love your hair so much,” he admits.

“Nick,” Charlie protests bashfully, his cheeks flushing.

Nick plows on, “I love your eyes.”

Charlie giggles adorably, “for god’s sake.”

Nick leans in and lightly kisses Charlie’s forehead. When he pulls back he says, “I love…” but as their eyes lock again, Nick is struck by the deep blue of Charlie’s eyes, and the emotions he can read there, his beauty stealing Nick’s words.

Charlie smiles knowingly and whispers, “I love you.”

Nick’s smile is luminous as he says, “I love you too. I love you so much.”

Their eyes remain locked on each other as they slowly lean in. As their noses brush, their eyes fall closed and finally, their lips meet. The kiss is chaste, allowing their emotions and the words they just whispered to encompass them. Slowly, they pull apart, just enough to rest their foreheads together, their eyes still closed, arms wrapped around each other, basking in the beautiful vulnerability of the moment together.

Chapter Text

Nick feels like he’s floating as he potters around the kitchen. He is humming to himself, thinking about how brave and vulnerable Charlie had been yesterday, opening up and sharing all of the hard things he’d remembered about his life ‘before.’ All while Nick got to cradle the precious man in his arms as he unloaded all of the grief and trauma that had already put such a heavy weight on his young shoulders. As horrible as Charlie’s current coma predicament is, he’s almost glad that Charlie has been given these precious few months of reprieve where he hasn’t had to carry that weight for a while. Now he just wishes he could take on some of that weight for him.

A drowsily grumbled “morning,” startles him out of his thoughts, and he turns around to take in the sleep rumpled man behind him. Charlie is rubbing his eyes as if the act will somehow make him more awake, his curls adorably askew with a sleepy frown on his face. “Jesus, all this time I’ve gone without needing any sleep, and now I can’t seem to keep my eyes open,” he yawns.

Nick chuckles, his heart brimming with adoration for the grumpy toddler that seems to have overtaken Charlie’s body. “Not a morning person then, I take it?” he teases.

Charlie groans, “no. Fuck I miss coffee, I used to drink so much of it my blood was 90% caffeine.” He slumps his upper body onto the benchtop, and rests his head on his forearms. He turns his face to the side to glare at Nick, “why are you so chipper? It’s far too early for chipper.”

“It’s past 9am,” Nick laughs. His smile slips a bit, remembering that not too long ago it would have been unfathomable for him to have been awake at 9am, given the depressive state he’d been in when Charlie had first appeared in his life, and he swiftly changes topic. “I’m just happy Char, yesterday was… so special to me.” he pauses, deciding it’s his turn to be a little vulnerable, “YOU’RE so special to me.”

A sleepy smile spreads across Charlie’s face, he looks at Nick for a moment and then opens his mouth as if to speak, but the moment is completely shattered by the sound of Nick’s phone ringing.

“Who the hell's calling me?” he says, glancing at the unknown number on his screen. He answers, “Hello?”

“Nick, it's Sally,” it takes him a moment to place the name and the tone that is all business, it’s the voice of the estate agent who had helped him find this flat. “Well, you are the luckiest man in London,” she says.

“Thank you,” Nick says confused, “why do you say that?”

Sally continues, “great news, the flat is yours. And they're willing to give you a nice long lease.”

Nick’s stomach drops, “How long a lease?” he asks, an overwhelming sense of dread flooding his system.

“Really long.” That doesn’t really answer my question , he thinks, “and I'm gonna send it over, and I'll talk to you tomorrow,” she continues, oblivious to Nick’s turmoil.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he rushes to stop her from hanging up, “why are they giving me a long lease now?”

Sally sighs, “it's a terrible story. The tenant was in some kind of coma, and it is what it is, so they're gonna pull the plug.”

Nick’s ears are ringing, he can feel his heartbeat in his throat. Distantly he hears Sally calling his name. He hangs up the phone on autopilot.

Charlie is looking at him with concern. “What?” he asks.

Nick feels his body shift into problem-solving mode, “we gotta go talk to your sister.”

Charlie stands up straight, his brow creased in concern, “why? What are you gonna say to her?” he asks.

“I don't know. What kind of dirt do you have on her?” Nick says, rushing around to grab his keys and shoving his feet into whichever pair of shoes is closest.

🍃🍂🍁🍂🍃

An hour later Nick is knocking on Tori’s front door, his legs twitching nervously as he waits for her to answer. He had filled Charlie in on what Sally had told him on the train journey over. He glances at the ghostly man beside him, and sees that he looks just as nervous as Nick feels.

Tori answers and both men follow her into the kitchen, where she picks up a half full glass of what looks like lemonade and sips audibly through a straw, her eyes drilling holes into Nick. Finally she asks, “so, how did you know Charlie? You must've worked together. God knows he wasn't dating anybody.”

Charlie huffs, “everybody likes to rub that one in.”

Nick clears his throat, unsure of how to start, “actually, this is gonna be a little difficult to swallow…” he says, before the thundering of little feet interrupt him as two little girls, Charlie’s nieces Nick assumes, thunder past him and head into the lounge.

Charlie grabs Nick’s arm, “don't do this in front of them,” he insists, “it's gonna freak them out.”

Nick watches through the open doorway as the girls turn on some music and start dancing, completely oblivious to his presence in their home. Tori goes over and closes the door halfway, filtering out some of the noise. Returning to the kitchen she says, “I'm sorry, you were saying? How did you know him?”

Charlie must sense something in the inscrutable gaze his sister has fixed on him because he says, “lie your butt off.”

Nick panics and says, “we worked together.”

“No!” Charlie hisses.

“No,” Nick repeats, trying to subtly signal to Charlie that he is drowning here and could use some help.

“No, no, no. You're not credible as an editor. Make something up.”

Nick sees Tori waiting expectantly, “I mean, I didn't work with him. We worked together on my biography.”

Both Tori and Charlie quirk an eyebrow at him at this, he can feel his cheeks flaming, but he continues, it’s not completely a lie, he does have a published biography after all. “I was a client of his.”

He tries to continue and make his story sound credible, but his attention is split between the woman who could be Charlie’s twin glaring at him, and the young girl who has come back into the room and is now standing behind her, looking up at Charlie.

“Livvy? Can you see me?” Charlie asks her.

Nick continues, “I was a rugby player. I got injured,” he points to his knee. “I was the first out player in the league, so people wanted to monopolise on that.” Nick thinks he sees the slightest flicker of emotion on her face. “I… Charlie, he saw the real me, treated me like an actual human when nobody else did.”

Tori’s mouth twitches with the smallest hint of a small, “That sounds just like him,” she says, “but why are you telling me this?”

Nick takes a deep breath to steady himself, “because I know about Charlie's situation, and I just wanna say that…”

“Liv,” Charlie whispers.

“...there are things…” Nick continues speaking, trying to block out the interaction between Charlie and his niece.

“You know I'm here, don't you?” Charlie asks the girl.

“...sometimes that…” Nick’s eyes flicker to the little girl, “...that are beyond our understanding. And so, I just wanted to ask you… Actually, I just want to beg you to- to give him a little bit more time. He's gonna pull through this thing. I just know it.”

Tori’s eyes turn glassy, “that's really sweet of you to say, but... it's kinda too late.”

Charlie gasps, his eyes flicking back up to his sister's face, “Tori,” he whispers.

“What do you mean?” Nick asks, concerned.

Charlie’s breaths have turned short and shallow “Tor, what did you do?”

Tori locks eyes with Nick, “it's Nick, right?” Nick nods, “You see, it's too late because we- my parents, they already signed the papers.” Nick watches a tear spill over and run down her cheek at that admission.

“Tori. I'm here. Can you feel me? I'm right here.” Charlie pleads.

Tori bends down and whispers to Olivia, who has remained clinging to the back of her mothers leg throughout the interaction. The girl nods and rushes off to play with her sister again. Tori stands up, watching for the girl to be out of earshot before she says, “we're terminating life support tomorrow at 12, while the girls are in playgroup. I mean, the past seven months have been so hard on them, on this whole family.”

Nick is desperate, “well, I understand that. I really do. But I think you're making a grave mistake here, because I really believe…”

Tori cuts him off, “it's for the best. Really. This is what Charlie would have wanted. I mean, I spent my whole life looking out for him.” She wipes her tears away, a slight frown appearing between her brows “and our parents always thought they knew what was best for him. What career he should pursue, what men he should date. This is something Charlie would have asked for. And for the first time, they’re gonna respect his wishes. I can’t change that. I won’t.”

Charlie sounds heartbroken when he whispers, “Oh, Tori.”

Fuck it, Nick thinks, “Look,” he says, “this is gonna sound really strange to you, but…” he looks at Charlie.

The shorter man must catch on to his plan because he starts shaking his head vehemently, “oh, no, no, no.”

Nick ploughs on, “...the truth is Charlie is here with us right now.”

“Nick” Charlie pleads.

“He came here with me, he's standing next to you, begging you to wait,” he finishes, gesturing to Charlie.

Tori’s expression is unreadable as she asks, “right next to me?”

Nick nods so enthusiastically, he’s a little worried his head might roll off his neck, “right there.” he confirms.

Charlie grasps his forearm again, “Nick, stop.”

Nick looks at him, “no, let me do this.” He turns back to Tori, “I don't know how or why, but somehow I can see your brother's spirit. I know it's crazy, but I also can talk to him.” Tori is glancing around the room as if looking for something. “So why don't I have him just explain the whole thing to you, and I'll translate.

Tori’s gaze settles back on him again and she says, “could you just hold on, just a sec?” Nick nods and she heads over to the lounge room door again, peeking her head in to check on the girls before closing the door completely, leaving the girls completely out of sight, and therefore unable to see into the kitchen.

She returns to the kitchen, levels Nick with the most murderous scowl he’s ever seen and says, “I’m going to need you to leave my house now. I don’t know what sort of high you’re chasing, or what mental health issues you have going on, but you are not welcome in my home.”

Nick feels himself shrivel under Tori’s threatening gaze, “I'm not making this up! Why would I?”

Maintaining her menacing glare, she herds him towards the front door, forcing him out of the house. Despite the massive discrepancy in their size, Nick has no doubt that this tiny woman could do him serious bodily harm. “Look, I’ve already told you, my parents have signed the papers, it is out of my control anyway, and-” she starts poking him hard in the middle of the chest with each word she emphasises, “you. Need. To. Leave.”

Nick retreats quickly with his arms raised in surrender, the door almost smacking him in the face, as Tori slams it closed as soon as he crosses the threshold and is out on the street. Nick turns wide-eyed to face Charlie, “I don’t think she likes me” he breathes.

“She's just being a good mum. Trying to keep her kids away from a crazy guy.” Nick watches Charlie retreat, heading back towards the train station, his shoulders slumped in defeat. 

Nick jogs to catch up with him, grabbing his elbow he says, “Come on, Char. This can't be it.” Charlie fixes him with a disbelieving look. “I can go to that hospital. I could talk to your doctor friend, Dr. Last wasn’t it?”

“Aled? No Nick. Just stop, They'll put you in a straitjacket. There's no way anyone's gonna believe I'm still here.”

A sudden realisation hits Nick, “your niece, the little girl. She saw you.” He knows he’s scraping the bottom of the barrel for ideas now, but what can he say, he’s desperate.

“Oh, great,” the sarcasm drips from Charlie’s mouth as he continues, “my fate's in the hands of a four-year-old. Who has seven other imaginary friends.”

Completely out of ideas now, Nick scrubs his hands over his face.

“Wait,” he says suddenly, startling Charlie. “There is someone else.”

“What do you mean?” Charlie asks, confused.

He slots their fingers together as he grabs Charlie’s hand before taking off towards the train station again, “Come on.”

Chapter Text

“Darryl!” Nick’s tone is desperate as he enters the bookstore, making a beeline for the man reading a comic book behind the counter.

Looking up at the call of his name, Darryl greets Nick with a nod, “dude.” His eyes flick briefly to Nick’s left, to the exact spot where Charlie is standing. “The spirit's with you, isn't it?” Nick nods in response and Darryl’s head flinches back slightly. It’s the smallest of reactions, but it’s also the most emotion Nick has ever seen the man display. “You can't bring that here. What are you thinking, bro?” he asks, affronted.

Ignoring this Nick ploughs ahead, “you were right. He's alive.”

Looking pleased with himself, Darryl nods, “righteous.”

“He's in a coma.” Nick feels breathless, shattering the illusion that he is here with good news, trying to get all the information out as fast as he can, desperate to finally get some answers “his family's gonna take him off life support.”

Ceasing the nodding Darryl says, “not so righteous.” He looks in Charlie’s direction again and asks, “so, what, are you guys socializing now?”

Nick shifts uncomfortably, not wanting to reveal just how close the two men have gotten over the last few weeks. “We've…” he struggles to find the right word, “acclimated.”

Darryl snorts, “yeah, I can tell.” His eyes flicker over to Charlie yet again, the sensation of having someone else knowing Charlie is there, and where exactly he is standing, even if the man can’t actually see him is unnerving in its foreignness. “In fact, I'm sensing some pretty intense feelings he has for you, bro.”

Nick practically beams at this, he knows it’s true, they both said those magical three little words to each other just last night, but he feels giddy at the thought of someone else having noticed their connection. “Really?” he asks.

Charlie blushes, clearly feeling called out, “Nick, can we not talk about this with this random stranger I’ve never met before please?” he pleads.

“Ooh, Major red aura.” Darryl laughs, “somebody's embarrassed.”

Charlie huffs, “I am not. Can we focus here?”

“OK.” Nick agrees, turning back to Darryl he asks, “is there a spell, or,” he pauses to think, “or a chant. Anything to get his spirit back into his body?” He knows he must look desperate, but he doesn’t care, because he is. He would do literally anything to save Charlie.

Darryl shakes his head, “whoa, you're asking totally the wrong question.”

“W-why is that wrong?” Nick asks, confused.

“Look, I have the gift,” Darryl sighs, “I didn't ask for it, but I do. I can sense these things, spirits, whatever you wanna call them,” he gestures to Charlie. “Why they're hanging here in the first place? That's their unfinished business.” he shrugs nonchalantly.

“Do I have the gift?”

“Dude, please,” Darryl scoffs, you definitely don't have it. You're a civilian.”

Nick frowns, “but if I don't have it, how is it that I can see him and talk to him when no one else can?” he asks, now totally confused.

“Exactly,” Darryl smirks.

“Exactly what?” Nick looks at Charlie, exasperated by the man talking only in convoluted riddles.

“That's the right question.”

🍃🍂🍁🍂🍃

Nick flops down onto the couch when they get home, completely drained from the interactions and revelations of the day. “What the hell is he talking about?” he says, thinking out loud as much as asking Charlie. “God, I feel like it's right there in front of us. I just can't get a handle on it.”

Charlie takes a seat next to him, “how do you solve a problem that isn't possible in the first place?” he asks, dejectedly. 

“Because nothing seems impossible to me anymore.” Nick scoots over to allow Charlie more room, “I mean, why did I move into your flat in the first place? Why can I see you when no one else can?” he scrubs his hands over his face trying to wipe away some of the fatigue that is setting in, “It all seems connected somehow.” He gets up, walking around the lounge, pulling items off shelves and placing them back again when they don’t yield any more clues.

“What are you doing?” Charlie asks, getting up to follow Nick.

“I don't know.” he admits, “I feel like I missed something here.”

“Where did you get this?” Charlie asks, having spotted the photo frame that had been sitting behind the small stack of books Nick had just picked up. Charlie reaches for it as Nick realises he has accidentally revealed the photo of Charlie and his siblings that he’d hidden there two days ago. “It was just at the hospital.” Charlie says confused.

“Yeah. I…” Nick rubs the back of his neck nervously, “I took it,” he admits. “I'm sorry. I- I just… I wanted to have a picture of you. I wasn't sure that I was gonna ever see you again.” He takes Charlie’s hands in his, wanting Charlie to look at him to show his sincerity as he says, “I'm sorry.”

A tear appears in the corner of Charlie’s eye, “don't be sorry.” he practically whispers, “that's really nice.” The tear escapes and rolls down his cheek. “I really like that picture,” he says, running his finger along the frame, as if wishing he could pick it up. Nellie, seeming to sense Charlie’s emotions, comes over and settles herself by his feet.

“Yeah. Yeah, I liked it too.” Nick whispers, not wanting to break the intimate moment they’re in.

“I had just left Ben for good” Charlie shares.

Nick places his hand on Charlie’s lower back in a comforting gesture, “you must have felt so free.”

Charlie smiles, “No, actually, I was having to crash on my sister's couch because I had nowhere else to live and was on the verge of relapsing with my eating disorder,” he laughs, “I even lost my job. My position was made redundant.”

“And that's a good thing?” Nick asks, confused at the fondness with which Charlie seems to be speaking, contrasting with the sadness of his words.

Charlie looks up at Nick, “No. I know it sounds kinda crazy. My parents wanted me to move back home so they could look after me. I was considering it. It felt like it would have been nice to have someone take care of me for a while. But Tori said no. The only thing to do was to block Ben on every platform, and drink margaritas,” he chuckles, “lots and lots of margaritas. Obviously Olly wasn’t drinking, he was only about 12 at the time, but his contribution to cheering me up was a Mario Kart tournament.” 

Nick slides his hand from Charlie’s back around to his waist, where he lightly squeezes his hip, “well, looks like she was right.”

Charlie rests his head on Nick’s shoulder, “it's just funny because the time in my life I was probably at my lowest, I had more fun than I'd ever had in my life.”

Nick smiles at getting to share in the memory, despite not having been there, “you look happy,” he whispers.

“I was happy.” He sighs, lifting his head and taking a small step back looking up at Nick’s face. “But what was I doing with the rest of my time?” he asks, his tone flooding with melancholy, “when I think about my life and I…” Charlie wipes away another tear as it rolls down his cheek. “All I can remember is working. You know? Working and working and trying so hard. And for what?”

“You help people.” Nick reassures, resting his palms on Charlie’s shoulders as he dips his head to make eye contact with the shorter man. “You share their stories, their lives, with the world.”

“Yeah. Except for my own.” He angrily scrubs away another tear. “I saved my story, my life , for later. I just...” his shoulders slump in defeat. “I never thought there wouldn't be a later.”

Nick carefully grips Charlie’s face resting both palms on his cheeks and tilting his head up to face him, “no, don't say that. There's still time.” He places a small kiss on Charlie’s forehead. 

Charlie smiles weakly, “you know, I just don't want to spend my last night crying. Or…” he releases a small sigh, “fighting my fate. I wanna do something with you. Together.” He looks up at Nick, his eyes full of pleading. He looks so vulnerable that Nick’s heart breaks.

“OK. OK, great.” Nick agrees, releasing Charlie and stepping back into the middle of the room, arms wide he asks, “what do you want to do? You want to fly to Paris? See the Eiffel Tower? No problem. You wanna dance on a beach in Bali? Let's go! Let's do it! Anywhere in the world,” he pauses, “that will take MasterCard or Visa. Anywhere,” meaning it with every fibre of his being, he will go literally anywhere, do anything Charlie wants right now.

Charlie smiles nervously, “there is something that I would like to do,” he admits.

“Anything,” Nick encourages, nodding earnestly.

Charlie ducks his head, blushing, “I'm so bad at this.”

“What? What is it?” Nick asks quietly, his hands grasping Charlie’s again as he steps closer, waiting to hear what the smaller man wants to do.

“I want,” he exhales nervously. “I want you,” he admits. 

Nick’s eyes flick between Charlie’s, needing to make sure he has interpreted correctly what he is asking for. There are so many things that sentence could mean, and Nick is desperate not to fuck this up. “What do you mean?” he prompts.

Charlie takes a deep breath, Nick watches him steel himself as he stands up tall, looking Nick in the eyes and clarifying, “I want to feel loved, and treasured. Like I deserve.” his lip trembles as he adds, “like I always deserved. I really want that.” he squeezes Nick's hands gently, his tone lighter as he says, “and I want that with you. Because I love you. I want to be with you, Nick.”

Nick is so overwhelmed with love and with how much he wants to protect the precious man in front of him. A man who has just offered him his heart on a platter, he leans forward, enveloping Charlie in the most loving hug he can muster, both men resting their head on the other's shoulder, “I love you too. So much,” Nick whispers. He slowly releases Charlie, letting his hands run down the smaller man's arms until he reaches his hands. Clasping one within his own, he gently leads them towards the bedroom, his thumb rubbing over Charlie’s knuckles where their hands are linked.

They settle on the bed, laying only inches apart, facing each other like they had done yesterday. “Are you nervous?” Nick asks, taking in the timid expression on Charlie’s face.

“A little,” Charlie admits.

“Why?” Nick asks, wanting to reassure him.

“I don't know.”

Nick places a hand on Charlie’s check, his thumb rubbing over Charlie’s delicate cheekbones, “how can you be nervous? We’ve slept in this bed together before. We’ve already shared so much, been so vulnerable with each other. It’s just me.”

Charlie’s cheeks flush the most beautiful shade of pink Nick has ever seen. “I think I'm more nervous because it’s you,” he whispers, his eyelashes lightly brushing Nick’s thumb as he lowers his eyes.

Confused, but wanting to understand, Nick asks, “why?”

“You know in the hospital, when you touched my hand?” Charlie’s eyes look pleading, Nick nods in recollection. “I felt it. I mean, my spirit felt it. I don't know how. But the more time I spend with you, the more I fall in love with you, the more I think if you could ever really touch me… not just my spirit, or my body, but all of me… I- I might wake up from all of this.”

Nick’s heart feels like it is leaping out of his chest, trying desperately to jump out and join with Charlie’s, like his heart will only be complete when the two become one living beating entity, existing entirely wrapped up in each other. He gently wraps his fingers around Charlie’s wrist, pulling his hand over to rest on his chest, above his own heart. Giving a slight squeeze to indicate to Charlie to leave his hand there, he releases Charlie’s wrist before resting his own palm over Charlie’s heart.

Their eyes lock and Charlie’s breath hitches. “It feels- I feel like you’re the missing part I have been looking for my whole life.

A tear rolls down Nick’s cheek as he whispers. “I feel that way too.”

“I think I know what my unfinished business is.” Charlie whispers.

“What?”

Charlie shuffles closer until their noses are touching “you,” he says, before closing the distance and giving Nick the most loving and tender kiss he has ever received.

Chapter Text

Nick leans into the kiss, wanting to show Charlie just how much his love and care is reflected in the way Nick feels about him. He threads his hands through the inky black curls that adorn Charlie’s head, a soft hum escaping his lips as he cradles the smaller man's head in his hands while they kiss.

They stay like that for a long time, neither moving to deepen the kiss, both content to sit in the gentle calm of the moment, sharing their love and vulnerability, until finally their need to breathe breaks them apart. They rest their foreheads together as they catch their breaths. Nick’s fingers release the curls they had been tangled in. His hand slowly traces down the back of Charlie’s neck, coming up over his shoulder and cascading down his arm until their fingers tangle together. He gently lifts Charlie’s hand to his mouth. Placing a tender kiss there he whispers, “I love you. I can’t even tell you how much. Fuck, I love you so much Char.”

Charlie smiles sweetly, his eyes brimming with tears as he presses a chaste kiss to Nick’s lips and responds, “I love you too Nick. More than I even thought was possible.”

Kissing Charlie’s knuckles again Nick asks, “how do you want to do this Char?” Nick kisses Charlie’s forehead. “I want this to be perfect for you,” another kiss on Charlie’s cheek. “Will you tell me what you like?” he kisses just below Charlie’s ear, and hearing the smaller man gasp he adds, “what you want me to do, please?”

Charlie whimpers, the tears spilling from his eyes as he whispers Nick’s name. His arm wraps around Nick’s back, clenching the back of his hoodie in his fist. “This is already so perfect,” he breathes. “Will-” he pauses, “can you just touch me? Just for now? I want more later, but for now, I just want to feel your hands on me, to feel real for a while.”

Charlie’s eyes are sparkling in the dim evening light from the tears he had shed, I have never seen anything more beautiful, Nick thinks. “You’re so beautiful,” he tells him. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you are right now in my whole life,” he whispers, brushing a curl away from his forehead to place another kiss there. “And touching you-” his breath hitches, “fuck. Char. Getting to touch you. It would be my absolute honour sweetheart.” he whispers, kissing the fresh tears away from Charlie’s beautiful face.

Cradling Charlie’s face in his hands, he gently wipes the remainder of the tears away with his thumbs, pecking him on the lips and asking, “can you lay on your back for me Char?” Nodding Charlie moves to do just that, and Nick shuffles the pillows around underneath him to perfectly cradle Charlie’s head.

Resting on his knees by Charlie’s left hipbone, Nick reaches for Charlie’s hand. He gently massages the palm. Placing a kiss on his wrist he moves his attention to each individual finger, carefully massaging each of the slender digits. He kisses Charlie’s knuckles next, turning his hand over to rub the skin on the back of his hand.

Nick feels Charlie’s body relax beside him as he watches Nick’s movement with rapt attention. He sighs gently and says, “I wish you were around after all of my rage-fuelled drumming sessions.” He chuckles, “My hands could have definitely used some attention like this after gripping the drumsticks so tightly.”

Nick must look entirely gobsmacked right now. It’s all he can do to concentrate on not dropping Charlie’s hand, his movements frozen. “You play the drums?” he can hear the awe in his own voice. Charlie smirks when Nick adds, “that’s so cool!”

“Got a thing for drummers do you?” Charlie teases. Nick’s eyes open wide as he nods enthusiastically in agreement, no denying those golden retriever allegations, I guess he laughs to himself, leaning down to kiss Charlie again. He pulls back, looking into Charlie’s eyes as he takes a moment to compose himself after that mind melting revelation.

“Do you have any other incredibly hot hidden talents you would like to share with the class, or can I get back to worshipping you again now?” Nick asks, trying and failing to match Charlie’s level of sass.

It’s only when Charlie smirks at him again that Nick realises the accidental innuendo in his words. He can practically see the words forming in Charlie’s brain before he says, “you play your cards right and I might just show you some of my hidden talents later,” he winks and Nick is a puddle again.

Nick groans and thumps his head gently down on Charlie’s chest, “menace,” he mumbles into Charlie’s sweater, feeling the burn of his blush, knowing his skin must be crimson at this point. He hears Charlie’s joyous laugh, the vibrations of it rattling up from his chest and lightly jostling Nick’s head where he remains burrowed. 

Charlie’s hand appears in his hair, lightly combing through the strands soothing him. “I’m sorry,” Charlie is still giggling, “you just set that up so perfectly for me I couldn’t resist.” Nick turns his head to glare playfully at him. Charlie bites his lip trying to contain his laughter and Nick groans having to bury his head again to hide just how affected he is by the sight. Charlie snorts at Nick’s muffled pleas for him to stop and says, “but teasing you is just so fun,” he gently tilts Nick’s face up to look at him, “and you turn such a pretty colour when I do it,” he winks again and Nick thinks he might die from how attracted he is to this man, and how fucking turned on he is from the teasing.

His face is burning, he can feel the heat radiating off it, but he can’t bring himself to care, he just stares at Charlie’s teasing smirk, the glisten in his eyes. The way he is radiating confidence and is so clearly happy in this moment, his breath hitches and he gasps out, “Char.”

A momentary flicker of doubt crosses Charlie’s face, “this is okay right?” he asks, “I mean, you seem pretty into it, but… I need to hear you say it, you are okay with me teasing you like this, yeah?” He looks so earnest in his concern for Nick’s comfort, that Nick’s brain is malfunctioning, so utterly overwhelmed by all of the different parts of Charlie that are sending wave after wave of affection through his body. By how much he likes this sassy, confident version of the man he loves. By how unbelievably attracted to him he is, and by how ridiculously fucking horny all the teasing mixed with the vulnerability have made him.

The noise that escapes him as he tries to formulate a response can best be described as some sort of gargle. He takes a steadying breath and feels his brain slowly start to whir back to life. “Are you kidding me Char? It’s so fucking hot. I didn’t even know I liked to be teased, but holy fucking shit, I definitely do. I’ve never been so turned on in my life.” He shifts his body, bumping his hips against Charlie’s leg to show just how true that statement is.

It’s Charlie’s turn to blush now at Nick’s very evident arousal, but that doesn’t stop his new confident menace persona from adding, “well, best get back to worshipping then so I can show off those hidden talents later,” smirking, he brushes his leg against Nick’s groin once, before moving his leg away, leaving Nick wanting more.

Pushing his own desire aside Nick focuses back on the task at hand. He lifts Charlie’s hand again, resuming his ministrations at his wrist, slowly pushing the sleeve of his sweater up as he massages up his forearm, leaving a trail of tender kisses behind as he moves his fingers on to discover each new section of skin.

He reaches the limit of the fabric at Charlie’s elbow, and placing one last kiss to the inside of his elbow, he lays Charlie’s hand back down, lifting the other one to repeat the same loving process.

Having reached the same point on both arms, he leans up to capture Charlie’s lips in a kiss. He fiddles with the bottom of Charlie’s sweater, looking lovingly into deep blue eyes as he asks, “can I take this off?” Charlie nods, his pupils completely blown out as he sits up slightly to allow Nick to lift the garment over his head.

Nick sits for a moment, eyes raking the newly exposed skin of Charlie’s arms and collarbone visible now that he is only in a plain white t-shirt. He watches Charlie’s face as he gently moves to straddle his lap, his legs bracketing Charlie’s as he kneels above him. “Is this okay?” he asks, watching Charlie’s throat bob as he nods. From this position Nick can better access the man below him, and goes back to his gentle massage up each arm, starting at the elbow, and finishing at the shoulder, all the while trailing kisses as he goes.

He moves up to cradle Charlie’s head again, his hands slipping beneath his neck to rest at the base of his skull before he pulls Charlie into a deep kiss. Charlie eagerly returns the kiss, moaning into it. Nick pulls away, trailing kisses across his jaw and down his neck. He hears a small gasp from above him as he softly pulls the neckline of Charlie’s shirt aside to allow his lips to continue their exploration of Charlie’s skin. 

He is overwhelmed in the best possible way by the feel of Charlie’s warm skin beneath his hands and lips. By his wonderful scent, the coconut-y smell of whatever hair product he must use mixed with traces of sage and moss. He hums as he feels Charlie’s breath hitch, the smaller man's hand coming up to grip Nick’s bicep as he moves to repeat the process on his other side.

Nick slowly explores every inch of Charlie’s skin, only stopping to ask Charlie if he can remove his shirt. His hands and mouth leave no piece of Charlie’s chest untouched, as he takes his time to show Charlie just how precious he is. He spends extra time on Charlie’s scars, the ones that Charlie had clearly placed so they could be easily hidden by the sleeves of his shirt. He knew they would be there, Charlie had told him that he used to self harm, but seeing them in person, knowing now how much pain Charlie had once been in, only made him want to worship him even more. To prove to him, beyond any doubt, that he is so worthy of love and happiness.

If he also spent quite a bit of extra time on his nipples upon hearing Charlie’s reaction when his lips had first brushed over them, then that was nobody’s business but his own.

Eventually, when Charlie’s body has relaxed completely, practically melted into the bed, Nick moves on to his legs. After Charlie helps him peel off his skinny jeans, Nick repeats his actions from earlier, this time starting from ankle instead of wrist, working his way slowly up to the space where Charlie’s hip bones jut out, before moving back down to the other ankle and travelling upwards again.

Nick knows he will never forget the sounds Charlie makes. He has no idea how long he has been exploring Charlie’s body, the small gasps, moans, whimpers and whispered pleas creating a soundtrack that he knows he will be reliving in his dreams forever. 

When Nick moves up to kiss Charlie again, having finally finished exploring every part of the front of Charlie’s body that isn’t hidden beneath his boxers, he lifts his head just enough to speak, intending to ask Charlie to roll over so he can repeat the process along Charlie’s back. But the smaller man puts a finger to his lips, interrupting his plans.

“Nick, please,” he begs, “no more. I love you, I feel so completely cherished and I literally could not be more relaxed right now, but…” he bites his lip and Nick nearly dies at the sight, “I need more. Need to feel you.” His hands slip under Nick’s t-shirt and run up his back. “Please,” Charlie gasps, pulling Nick down for a desperate kiss, pressing their hips together.

Forgetting all about his plans to worship Charlie’s back, Nick breaks the kiss, reaching behind his back, grasping his jumper and shirt, and pulling them both up and over his head, discarding them by throwing them on top of the pile of Charlie’s clothes. Chest now bare, he leans down to capture Charlie’s mouth in his own desperate kiss, gently resting atop Charlie’s body, bracing himself on his elbows so as not to crush the smaller man.

Later when Charlie has fallen asleep in Nick’s arms, his head resting on Nick’s bare chest, Nick’s fingers lightly running up and down the warm skin of Charlie’s spine, Nick finally allows the words he has been holding back all day into the world. He whispers, “I can’t lose you.”

Chapter Text

Charlie wakes to the gentle morning rays slipping through a crack in the curtains. He feels warm, comfortable and safe in a way he has never quite felt before. He slowly blinks his eyes open, coming back to alertness, and takes in his surroundings. He’s in his bed, nothing about the morning seems unusual, so why does he feel so… content. It’s only then that he registers the weight of the arm wrapped around his waist. The warmth of the body pressed against his back. Nick, he realises, finally coming fully into wakefulness. The memories of the previous night come flooding back to him, in a wave of love and care so strong that if he hadn’t already been lying down, it might have knocked him over.

He gently rolls over, careful not to disturb the sleeping man wrapped around him. Now facing him, he takes in the peaceful look Nick has while he sleeps. Reaching up he pushes a strand of hair gently out of Nick’s eyes, his fingers ghosting gently down his neck, across his collarbone to his shoulder, and then gently down the arm that is still draped over his smaller frame.

Recalling the exercise from his therapy sessions, Charlie does a full body scan, taking in the tingling sensations on his skin at every point of contact he and Nick share. The warmth he feels wrapped safely in Nick’s arms, the larger body radiating heat, that is being trapped under the quilt, keeping Charlie’s normally cold body comfortably warm. He can feel how relaxed all of his muscles are. A result of the gentle massages Nick had given him yesterday, mixed with the intense pleasure he had received at the hands of the adonis. He registers a telltale ache between his legs and smiles at the memory of what he and Nick had shared the night before. 

Placing a soft kiss on the end of Nick’s nose, Charlie carefully extricates himself from Nick’s embrace, leaving the man to his well deserved rest as he slowly dresses himself. Once dressed, Charlie goes over to the reading chair he had placed in the corner when he’d first moved into the flat several years ago. Wishing he could lift the blanket draped over the back of the chair, but knowing he can’t, he settles for curling up on the chair, watching the man he loves sleep peacefully, wanting to revel in this peaceful moment before reality can come crashing back in.

Reality doesn’t hold off for long though, and soon Charlie is flooded with thoughts about this being his last day on earth. He has only hours left before his life support is turned off, and while he wishes, more than anything, that Nick had been successful in getting Tori to change her mind, he doesn’t blame her for her decision. 

He knows, from the little bits of information that she shared yesterday that it wasn’t really her decision anyway. His parents had been the ones to sign the papers, trying for once to honour his wishes. He doesn’t blame them either, doesn’t blame anyone at all. He has accepted the fact that this is the way things have fallen, and has decided to be grateful for the extra time he has already been given. The last five weeks that he has spent with Nick have been amazing, and last night? That was heavenly. Just like that actually, just like heaven on earth.

Charlie wouldn’t give up this time he has had with Nick for anything, and if he has to go today, well, he is just so, so fucking grateful to the man sleeping in front of him, and to the universe for sending him Nick, that he can’t bring himself to be bitter about dying at all. Sad, definitely, but he is also at peace with it. 

Resting his chin on his knee Charlie watches Nick sleeping peacefully for a few more minutes before the larger man begins to stir. His arm sweeps out across the bed, where Charlie had been laying earlier. He hears him whisper, “Char?” before he suddenly bolts upright looking groggily around the room, his voice now much louder, “Charlie?”

“I’m right here,” Charlie reassures, drawing Nick’s attention to his spot in the corner.

Nick lets out a relieved sigh, his hand clutched over his heart, “I thought you were gone.” Nick pauses for a moment taking Charlie in, “you’re dressed,” he says, looking down at his own bare chest, the rest of his body still hidden by the quilt draped over him. He sounds almost disappointed.

Charlie smiles, “yeah, sorry. I needed some time to think, and I get cold easily,” he admits.

Nick smiles warmly at him, throwing the covers off and grabbing his own clothes. Charlie ogles him as he pulls a fresh pair of boxers and his joggers on. Nick grabs a shirt and starts walking over to Charlie while he pulls it on. His head pokes through the top of the shirt as he reaches him and he leans down to place a kiss atop Charlie’s curls.

He heads over to the chest of drawers, pulls out a jumper and a pair of socks, then says, “suddenly I know what I’m supposed to do.” He sits on the end of the bed and starts pulling his socks and shoes on.

“What are you talking about?” Charlie asks confused, “we’ve tried everything already.”

Nick looks at him while he ties his laces, “Char, when we first met, I kept saying that you were dead.” Having finished with his shoes, he stands, shoving the jumper on, over his head, “but it was me that was dead, and you brought me back. You saved me.” Nick comes over to Charlie, cupping his face in the palm of his hands, “and now it's my turn to save you.”

“How?” Charlie asks, disbelieving.

Nick kisses him sweetly, before sharing his plan. “I'm gonna steal your body.”

Chapter Text

“Nick,” Charlie shouts as he follows Nick out of the building onto the street. “Nick,” he calls again, Nick keeps walking, turning towards the train station. “Nick, what are you thinking? You can't do this!” Charlie pleads.

“Why can't I?” Nick asks stubbornly.

Charlie scoffs, “because you'll go to jail.”

Whirling around to face him Nick says, “so? If something happens to you, you think I care where I'll be?” Charlie looks visibly shocked at this admission. “At least this'll buy us a little more time,” Nick reasons.

Frowning Charlie argues, “Nick, you can’t just steal the body of a coma patient. The things you'd have to know to even start to pull this off…”

Nick cuts him off, “okay, okay, so I’m not going to actually steal your body. I’m not a doctor, I don’t know how to look after you, you’re right, that would be far too risky.” Charlie looks relieved for a second, until Nick keeps talking, “but, I can barricade the door. Stop them from coming in. They can’t turn off the machine if they can’t get to it.”

There is nothing Charlie can say or do that is going to change Nick’s mind about this, and clearly the smaller man knows that because he sighs and says, “okay, you're gonna need a van. And somebody with questionable morals.”

Nick grins, elated to have Charlie on board with his plan, “I don’t know anyone that fits that description,” he says, “but I do know someone who loves to meddle, that I know I can convince.” Turning on the spot Nick changes direction, grabbing Charlie’s hand in his as he leads him down the street towards his menace of a best friend's flat.

🍃🍂🍁🍂🍃

“What are we doing again?” Darcy asks as they sit next to Nick on the train. Nick had dragged Charlie to their flat, only a few buildings down from his own, and had successfully convinced Darcy that he needed their help, without giving away too many details.

“Helping a friend of mine,” Nick replies cagily.

“You didn't tell them?” Charlie asks, clearly realising the truth. “You have to,” he demands. He pauses and squints at them and says, “you know, they look really familiar to me.”

“There’s a picture of them on the fridge,” Nick explains, assuming that Charlie must have noticed the picture at some point.

“A picture of who on the fridge?” Darcy asks.

Nick had forgotten for a moment that other people can’t hear both sides of his conversation, “no one, never mind” he says, trying to keep Darcy from calling Tara on him for an emergency session. He looks up and realises he can see the hospital “Here’s our stop.”

Nick sets a brisk pace as he steps off the train, “okay, why are we in such a hurry?” Darcy asks as they try to catch up to Nick’s quick strides.

Panicking, Nick tries to think of an excuse Darcy will believe, “uh… My friend is here but their family can’t visit them because they’re overseas. I don’t want them to be alone,” he says, hoping Darcy won’t question him. He knows Darcy thinks he is a bleeding heart for a sad story. They often tease him about it. Darcy doesn’t say anything and trails along behind him, apparently buying his flimsy reason for being here.

Charlie, who’s long legs allow him to match Nick’s stride much more easily than Darcy’s shorter ones, marches beside him, “you've gotta tell them,” he repeats.

“Not yet,” Nick replies.

Darcy appears beside him, having jogged a little to catch up, “not yet what?” they ask.

“We're not there yet,” Nick explains, hoping Darcy doesn’t start questioning his weird behaviour until they’re at least in the building.

No such luck, “Okay, Nick, be honest with me. Has your imaginary friend come out to play?” Darcy asks.

Nick ignores them, entering the hospital and heading straight for the elevator. When they’re safely inside the elevator Darcy turns on him, “Nick, what the hell is going on? You’re acting really fucking weird.”

Nick sighs, looking at them he admits, “alright. I knew you wouldn't come if I told you.”

Side-eyeing him suspiciously Darcy asks, “do I really want to hear this?”

Ignoring them Nick admits, “my imaginary friend is not imaginary. He’s the spirit of a man in a coma upstairs who they're about to take off life support. We have to save him.”

Darcy scoffs, “Really?”

“Really,” Nick replies, silently begging Darcy to believe him.

The look on Darcy’s face shows they clearly don’t. “You should've told them,” Charlie interjects.

Nick frowns at the unhelpful comment, and looks over Darcy’s shoulder, turning his attention to Charlie, “they wouldn't have believed me,” he defends.

“Do they believe you now?” Charlie challenges.

Nick can feel a headache starting to develop. Exasperated, he rubs his temples, “I had to get them into the hospital!”

Darcy rests a hand on Nick’s forearm, grabbing his attention, “Let me take you to the psych ward,” they say. “There are people who can help!”

Nick brushes them off, looking at the time on his phone. “No time. It's 11:30 right now. He's gonna be dead in half an hour!”

The reminder seems to have shocked Charlie back onto Nick’s side of the argument because he says, “okay, tell them I know this is a stretch.”

Nick nods and looks at Darcy, “look, he’s standing right behind you right now. He knows what a stretch

this is for you.”

Darcy cocks an eyebrow at him. “If your friend's really behind me, ask him what I'm doing: Rock, paper or scissors?” Nick nods, locking eyes with Charlie, and Darcy cycles through several interactions of the game, with Nick guessing every gesture correctly thanks to Charlie standing behind them and reporting their movements. 

Finally they give up looking confused as they whisper to themselves, “how...?” They shake themselves and try a different approach, “okay, okay, T says sometimes people with emotional and mental disturbances can have psychic moments. But even if he was real, do you know what you're risking for this man?”

Without hesitation Nick answers, “yes!”

“Why?” Darcy asks, exasperated.

“Because I love him. I can’t let him go.” looking at Charlie he adds, “I just found you. I can’t lose you now.”

There’s a tear in the corner of Charlie’s eye as he whispers, “I love you too, Nick.”

The elevator door opens then and Darcy gestures for Nick to lead the way apparently having decided to at least humour him for a little longer. Nick isn’t sure why Darcy has now agreed to go along with this, but he isn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. As they walk towards Charlie’s room, Charlie grabs his arm, and with it, his attention, “Nick?”

“Yeah?” Nick asks.

Looking past him to Darcy marching determinedly along beside Nick he says, “tell them thank you.”

Nick follows Charlie’s eyeline and passes on the message, “we're really grateful, Darce.”

Darcy huffs, “I'm not doing it for you.”

Nick frowns confused, “then why are you doing it?”

Turning to face him Darcy says, “because someday, trust me, I'm gonna need help doing something crazy for the woman I love, and when that day comes, I don't wanna hear any shit from you.”

They reach Charlie’s room and Nick ushers Darcy in first, Charlie follows on their heels and Nick swiftly walks in last, turning and closing the door behind them. He hears Darcy gasp behind him, “Oh, my God. Nick.”

Turning to face them Nick smiles, “I know. He's beautiful, right?”

Charlie blushes slightly, “that's really sweet, but we've gotta get a move on if we want to bar that door.”

Darcy grabs Nick’s forearm, stopping him in his tracks. “No, that's not it. This is him.” They point to Charlie’s lifeless body in the bed. “This is the man I set you up with, the man you stood up that night when you missed your train!”

Nick gasps, “I was gonna meet Charlie?” he asks, looking at Darcy with disbelief.

“And he didn't make it either,” Darcy continues, “because he had an accident.”

He looks at Charlie, awestruck. “It was you. Is that it? Is that why?” he wonders aloud.

Charlie looks shocked, “I was supposed to meet you,” he whispers, returning Nick’s gaze.

Blinking, Nick turns his attention back to Darcy and asks, “how do you know him?”

“I don’t really, I’ve only seen him in pictures, but Tara’s met him a few times. He’s a mutual friend of Tara’s favourite co-worker.”

Charlie gasps, “I knew I'd seen them before. That's Darcy, Tara’s Darcy. Tara works with my best friend Elle.”

“You’re friends with Elle?” Nick asks Charlie, having heard the name many times before from his best friend’s work stories.

Darcy looks up in shock. “What did you...?” they pause. “How did you know I was talking about Elle?”

Charlie is nodding, “Elle and I have been best friends since high school. Us and her husband, and our other friend Isaac have been inseparable since then.” he looks at Darcy like they’ve hung the moon, “they’ve changed their hair since the pictures I’ve seen of them, but that’s definitely the same Darcy Elle’s mentioned several times.”

Nick is staring at Charlie in shock when Darcy clears their throat, “Nick, how the hell do you know I was talking about Elle?”

Nick is exasperated. “I told you. It’s Charlie!” he says, gesturing to where the man stands at the end of his hospital bed.

Darcy gasps, “oh, my God. He really is here.”

Nick throws his arms up, in what he can only classify as a very good impression of angry Charlie’s toddler arms. “I told you!”

Suddenly Darcy leaps into action. “Quick, find something to block the door,” they say, rushing towards the visitor's chair in the corner. “I don't want them killing Elle’s best friend! Come on.” Darcy picks up the chair, running towards the door and jamming it under the door handle.

Chapter Text

Nick and Darcy spend several minutes gathering everything they can around the room to try and block the door. When there is nothing left they can use, Nick perches himself on top of the chair Darcy had wedged under the door handle, adding his body weight to the intricate contraption they have rigged up. 

Not even a minute passes before they hear a voice approaching the door, “yeah.” There's only one voice so Nick assumes the person must be on the phone. He puts a finger to his lips to let Darcy know to keep quiet. “I'm here already,” the voice outside adds.

“That's the doctor from the other day” Charlie gasps, “the one who gave Tori the termination papers. I recognise his voice.”

“He's 15 minutes early!” Nick hisses out, trying to be as quiet as possible.

The doctor's voice echoes through the door, “as soon as the family shows, we're ready.”

The door handle rattles, “he's coming in,” Darcy whispers. All three occupants of the room hold their breath, waiting to see if their contraption will hold up. The door doesn’t budge, “what the?” they hear the doctor say, then a louder, “this is Dr. Lange. I need security on the third floor.”

“It worked,” Charlie laughs, shocked.

“Uh, Nick,” Darcy snags Nick’s attention, “not to question your whole rescue plan here, but… what’s the plan now?”

Startled back into the reality of the situation, Nick realises that he doesn’t really know what to do now. The only thought on his mind from when he woke up this morning until now was to stop them getting to Charlie. “Uhhhh…” he rubs the back of his neck, “I hadn’t really thought beyond this point,” he admits.

Darcy groans. Suddenly a loud banging sound, like a fist slamming into wood comes from outside the door. “Hello, this is hospital security. Who’s in there?” asks a loud aggressive male voice.

“Shit” Darcy hisses.

Suddenly the banging becomes a lot louder, the time in between each one further apart. “I think they’re using some sort of battering ram,” Nick says, realising that their feeble structure won’t hold for long against that. The door is rammed three more times before the contraption starts to slip. Panicking, Nick leaps up off the chair, not wanting to be close enough for anyone to grab him when they enter the room.

“What do we do?” Darcy is clearly freaking out now. 

Nick’s brain kicks into problem solving mode. He can hear multiple voices outside the door, at least 3 people, which leaves them out numbered. “We need a distraction,” Nick says, turning to face Darcy. “When they get in, do you think you can slip past them and get some of them to follow you away from this room?”

He watches Darcy gulp before they nod. They’re much smaller than Nick, and more likely to be able to slip through the door quickly before anyone can register what they’re doing. They see a hand come through the door, which is now wedged open far enough for the owner of the hand to reach in up to their elbow. They watch as the person grabs the chair, attempting to dislodge it from under the handle. That’s brave, Nick thinks, how do they know the people in here aren’t dangerous?

“Okay, get ready,” Nick says, watching Darcy prepare their stance, while he grabs the only object left in the room which is neither attached to Charlie, nor barricading the door. The cylindrical metal bin. He holds it over his shoulder like a bat, standing in front of the machines that are keeping Charlie alive, ready to defend him the only way he can at this point. The tension in the room is thick as they wait for the barricade to fail.

“Hurry up, get it open,” they hear the cranky voice of the doctor demand as the chair finally releases the door and the first security guard comes into view.

Everything happens incredibly fast then. As soon as the guard steps through the door, shoving the remains of the barricade aside, Darcy dodges them, zipping straight past everyone and running down the hallway. Two security guards immediately take off after them as one of them  shouts, “stop right there!”

That leaves Nick alone with Charlie’s body, his spirit, the doctor and the security guard that had stepped through the door first. “Stay back,” Nick warns, holding the bin aloft. “I won’t let you hurt him.”

The security guard puts their palms up in a gesture of surrender, clearly attempting to placate him, but Nick notices that the man also takes a small step closer to him. “I said stay back,” Nick repeats, adjusting his grip on the bin. 

He watches as the security guard takes another step forward. “I need you to put the bin down now sir,” the guard says, gesturing to the object with one hand, while still slowly inching forwards.

Narrowing his eyes, Nick shifts his weight, taking a slight step closer to Charlie’s body, wanting to keep his body positioned between Charlie and the others, all the while watching the guard like a hawk. Time seems to stop for a moment as the two men stand in a stalemate that would look completely absurd to an outsider. 

Suddenly the guard lunges at Nick, tackling him to the side, and knocking the bin from his hands. The two men tussle, the guard half shoving Nick into Charlie’s sleeping figure as he goes. Nick launches himself off the bed, shoving the security guard to the floor and away from the bed, wanting desperately to protect Charlie.

The guard tries to push Nick off of him, and both men realise at the same moment that the guard now has something in his hand.

“Nick,” Charlie gasps. Whipping his head up to look at Charlie’s spirit, he realises exactly what the security guard is now holding at the same time Charlie says, “oh, my God, Nick. My breathing tube is gone.”

Chapter Text

Nick looks back at the breathing tube in the security guard's hand. “What? No!” he yells, clearly panicking.

“What’s happening?” Charlie hears someone say from the doorway, dimly he registers that more people have arrived, Tori, Michael, his parents, Olly, Elle, Tao and Isaac. They must have all come to say goodbye.

Ignoring the new arrivals he looks back at Nick who is now seated on the floor beside the security guard, who seems to be frozen with shock. “W-what can I do? There has to be something I can do!” Nick pleads with the universe, his eyes flicking around the room in rapid fire, his hands buried in his own hair, pulling at the strands. 

Charlie puts a hand on one of Nick’s arms, dragging his attention back to him. He can feel himself fading, his hand becoming more and more transparent each second where it rests against Nick’s skin. “It's too late,” he lifts his hand up to cup Nick’s cheek. “It's happening.”

“No,” Nick pleads, tears pooling in his eyes.

“It's strong,” Charlie whispers, feeling the pull of oblivion.

“Be stronger,” Nick begs, releasing his grip on his hair and covering Charlie’s hand with his own.

As he gazes into the warm honey coloured eyes of the man he loves, a highlight reel of his time with Nick starts flashing in his mind. Memories of them shouting at each other when they’d first met. Of Nick agreeing to help him figure out what was happening to him. Nick sharing his struggles with ADHD, and celebrating with Charlie every time they discovered a new clue. Meeting Nellie, remembering Olly… remembering everything. All of the wonderful moments they've shared together, where each of them had been vulnerable, been willing to open up and ultimately being completely accepted by the other. Every moment that had led up to last night. This morning. Now. Wow, I’m really dying, Charlie realises as his mind replays the events of last night. How cherished he’d felt, and just how connected he’d felt to Nick every time the larger man's lips had touched his skin. 

He hears his own voice echoing through his thoughts, a mismatched soundtrack to the beautiful images in his mind. 

“I think I know what my unfinished business is. You”

“I think if you could ever really touch me… not just my spirit, or my body, but all of me… I- I might wake up from all of this.”

Charlie gasps as he comes out of the memories, all of the pieces suddenly clicking into place. He fights desperately to hold on a little longer, just long enough so he can say, “Nick. Kiss me.” he points with his almost transparent finger, directing Nick’s attention to his lifeless body in the hospital bed.

Tears now streaming down his cheeks, Nick leaps into action. He pushes himself up off of the floor, leaving the security guard behind and rushing towards Charlie’s body. He places his palms either side of Charlie’s face, turning it slightly to face him. “Stay with me,” he whispers, before he lowers his head, his lips pressing gently against Charlie’s own.

The last thing Charlie sees before everything fades to black is the security guard, who has made it to his feet, pulling Nick off of him and shouting “I got you,” as Nick struggles to pull himself free, screaming Charlie’s name.

Chapter Text

“Charlie,” Nick shouts, as two more security guards come into the room, pinning him to the floor. “No!” He struggles against the guards blocking his eyeline to Charlie, but he manages to take in one final detail before the man he loves disappears completely. Charlie’s eyes are wide with shock, his ghostly fingers raised to his lips, brushing them gently as if he had felt Nick’s final kiss, despite being separated from his body. He watches helplessly as Charlie’s spirit continues to fade. 

The beeping of the heart monitor continues to slow and Nick vaguely registers the doctor saying, “give me a sedative,” as he walks towards Nick.

“Help him!” Nick shouts, desperate for someone, anyone to do something to save the love of his life. “Help him! Charlie!” he continues to shout pleading with the universe.

The doctor approaches, needle in hand. He orders the guards to hold Nick still as he looms above him.

Nick cranes his neck to see around the doctor as he hears the monitor stop beeping, and Charlie’s heartbeat flatlines. “No! Charlie!” he shouts, using all of his might to try and push the guards off him.

Nick feels his heart shatter with the sound of the flatline. The monotonous whine of the machine that loudly declares the absence of Charlie’s heartbeat. He slumps in the arms of the security guards, all of the fight completely gone from his body.

He feels the tears rising, but he has nothing left in him to fight, so he lets them fall, not caring who sees. “Charlie.” he sobs, the shock and utter despair overwhelming him. After everything they did to try and save him, after everything Charlie has been through, how can this be real? Charlie’s gone.

The room is silent apart from Nick’s sobs, the shock of what happened hanging heavy in the air.

Beep

Everyone freezes. 

Beep

Someone gasps.

The monitor beeps again. It continues. Getting faster and faster, until it’s beeping consistently, in a healthy, strong rhythm.

“What's going on?” a woman standing near the doorway, with long braids running down her back, whispers.

“That's not possible,” the doctor says, moving away from Nick and seeming to forget about the sedative he’d wanted to inject him with only moments earlier. “That's… not possible,” he repeats.

And then, the most beautiful sound Nick has ever heard. Charlie coughs, a frown appearing between his brows.

Tori moves towards the bed, “Charlie?” she asks, “can you hear me?”

Charlie opens his eyes, his gaze landing on his sister. An older couple, a woman with red hair, and a man who looks a little like Charlie move to his other side, “I can't believe we almost let you go,” the woman, Nick assumes Charlie’s mother, whimpers, as she grips Charlie’s hand firmly in her own. 

Charlie looks at the woman, “Mum?” he whispers, then looks at the man, “Dad?”

The woman lets out a happy laugh, tears streaming down her face, “yeah,” she says.

Charlie looks around the room at all the people standing around him. He tries to raise his head, but very quickly lowers it again, raising the heel of his palm to his forehead, “I think I bumped my head,” he mumbles.

Tori grasps his free hand, pulling it down from his head, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Nick rises to his feet in a state of shock, the security guards having slightly lessened their grip now that he is not fighting them. When he is standing upright they each grab hold of him firmly again, stopping him from stepping closer.

There is a commotion at the door as the two security guards that had chased Darcy earlier manhandle them into the room, one gripping each of their arms to prevent them from running again.

“Darcy?” the tall man with the grey beanie asks, clearly confused by their presence. “What are you doing here?”

Smiling sheepishly, Darcy waves, “hey Tao,” their eyes flick to Charlie, eyebrows raising when they see he is awake, before their gaze settles on Nick. “You okay Nick?” they ask.

The woman in the braids whips her eyes over to him, “Nick?” they ask, as if the name is familiar to them. Nick realises that this woman must be the famous Elle that he’s always hearing Tara talk about, her appearance matches the description she’d given him during one of their many game nights.

He looks back to Charlie, taking a small step towards him, but the guards tighten their grip. 

Tori’s glances up, her gaze piercing as her eyes flick between him and the other occupants in the room, clearly piecing something together. “It's OK,” she says, nodding towards the guards for them to release him.

They do, and he slowly walks towards Charlie, his hands coming to rest on the handrail as he looks down at the beautiful man in the bed. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi,” Charlie mutters, confusion creasing his brow.

“It's me,” Nick says, hoping desperately for a flicker of recognition in Charlie’s gaze.

Shaking his head slightly Charlie says, “I'm sorry, I don't…” he looks at Tori, confused.

“You don’t remember him?” she asks.

Nick, hoping desperately to jog his memories asks, “the flat? the rooftop? Bookstore?” When Charlie's brow only creases further he whispers, “nothing?”

Charlie shakes his head again, looking to his sister for reassurance.

Nick feels his heart break, realising that the love of his life is finally safe and well…

And doesn’t remember him at all.

Chapter Text

Nick closes the door to the flat behind him, slumping back heavily against it. He buries his face in his hands. How is it possible that despite everything he has been through, life has decided to throw him another curveball, this one somehow creating both the absolute best and worst day of his life.

Pushing himself off the door with his shoulder, he makes his way over to the couch and face plants onto it, not even bothering to remove his shoes. Fuck he thinks, why does everything good in my life get taken away from me? A flash of blue eyes and curly hair flash across his memory. His breath hitches. “Charlie,” he whimpers, feeling the tears start to prick at his eyes again, his brain finally starting to process everything that had happened… everything he had lost today.

Curling up on his side, wrapping himself around a cushion in the fetal position, Nick let the tears fall.

He doesn’t know how long he lays like that, tears silently running down his cheeks, while he clings desperately to the cushion, like the thing would somehow hold him together. It hadn’t taken long for Nellie to come and nuzzle  into him, gently licking his face before resting her chin on the couch near his head. He had gently curled his fingers into her fur, needing the sensation of another living being to keep him from drifting off completely into his sadness.

When the tears finally dry up, his head is pounding with dehydration. He had been dimly aware that Henry had joined them too. Now that his tears have subsided, he can hear the little pug snoring from his place curled up against Nick‘s ankle, where it had been hanging limply off the couch. He slowly unfurls himself, sitting up and stretching his joints, realising just how stiff his body had become laying curled in that position for so long.

Nick stands, walks to the kitchen to fetch some water, downing two glasses before refilling and carrying a third to the bedroom, where he falls into a fitful sleep.

🍃🍂🍁🍂🍃

Waking up the next morning Nick feels dreadful. He knows he didn’t sleep well, his brain waking him up every time he remembered the events of the previous day. Charlie’s heart stopping. The look of confusion and fear on his face when he had looked at Nick not recognising him. He knows he woke up far too many times to have gotten any decent amount of restfulness, but now his mind is whirring, and he knows he won’t be getting any more sleep either.

Scrubbing his hands over his face, he sits up. Looking around the room his senses are flooded with memories of all the time he’s spent with Charlie in this flat.

Walking out to the kitchen to make himself a coffee, he takes in all of the little design touches Charlie had added to the place before his accident. Charlie’s books fill every room, the furniture had clearly been chosen for comfort as well as design. The sheer amount of cushions and blankets around, for optimal coziness. Everything just screamed Charlie to him. Charlie’s books. Charlie’s furniture. Charlie’s flat. Nick inhales sharply at the realisation. Charlie’s flat. This is Charlie’s home. A home that he will be coming back to now that he is alive and well again. And Nick… 

Nick isn’t part of that picture anymore.

Heart sinking, Nick starts making plans. He feels so confused and bereft. His heart utterly shattered, crumbling at the loss of the connection he had built with Charlie. The man he had fallen for completely. The man who had, until yesterday, returned his affections. 

God did he love that man. So much. And could not have been more relieved that Charlie was finally whole again. Even if that meant that Nick couldn’t be part of his life anymore. Not even as a memory.

Draining the last dregs of his coffee, he pulls out his phone to text the group chat.

Hey T & Darce

Any chance I can crash on your couch again for a bit?

He didn't wait for a reply, knowing Darcy had witnessed the events of yesterday and would likely be able to work out why the request was necessary. He pocketed his phone and went about cleaning, and packing up his meager belongings around the flat. Erasing any trace of himself from the place, and thus, Charlie’s life.

Sadly, it only took him the length of a day to completely wipe his existence from the flat. It was a little after 7pm and Nick had been carting his few boxes and bags to his best friends’ flat sporadically throughout the day. He now stood in the hallway, looking back and forth around the place that had felt so much like home to him for the past six weeks. Taking one last proper look at the sacred space he had shared with the love of his life, for the small amount of time that they had gotten to share with each other.

He reaches for the front door handle, not ready to leave, but needing to. Before his hand makes contact with the handle, he hesitates. Charlie has become such a big, important presence in his life. One that had encouraged Nick to learn more about himself and grow as a person, and reflecting on this Nick realises how much Charlie has also grown in the time they’ve shared together.

Nick finds himself recalling all of the horrible things that Charlie had been through before his accident. The things he had thought he deserved. The mediocre at best displays of love and respect he’d been shown by his ex. Nick couldn’t leave. Not yet. Charlie might not be able to remember him, but Nick needed him to remember the revelation he’d had on their last night together.

Rushing back into the kitchen, Nick rummages through the doors, retrieving a pen and one of those notepads designed for shopping lists. It’s not ideal, but leaving Charlie a note will have to do.

Char,

I’m sorry to have to be leaving this here like this. It’s not how I’d like to tell you this, but with circumstances being what they are, it will have to do.

I know you don’t remember me, and I don’t want to scare you, or interrupt your life any further, but I need to tell you this.

I know you have not experienced great love and care in your past. But that is not through any fault of your own. You are such a special person, who is so worthy of love. You deserve to not only be loved, but cherished. Worshipped.

I know people have hurt you, and you feel like the way men have treated you in the past is what you deserve. But I need you to know that my life is way better because I met you. Every shitty thing that has happened in my past, it was worth it to meet you. You are the kindest, most thoughtful and caring and amazing person in the whole world. You’re my favourite person, and you deserve to be someone's everything. I know you can be, because you were. You ARE mine.

I need you to believe me.

Nick

Feeling the tears threatening to spill over again, Nick sticks the note on the fridge with a magnet that says, ‘gay panic.’ before quickly walking out of the flat, leaving his home, and his love, behind forever.

Chapter Text

Sitting on the park bench Tori watches as her two rambunctious daughters run rings around her brother. She is not normally one to allow her emotions to show on the outside, in fact there are very few people in the world who can actually manage to crack the solid brick wall she has carefully built over so many years. Only five people in her entire 29 years have managed it. And three of them are in front of her right now, laughing and playing together like nothing has changed.

Except, that’s not exactly true. Her daughters are happily playing with their uncle, running around his ripped skinny jean clad legs, while he plays along with being trapped by the imaginary ropes they are pretending to wrap around him.

A tear threatens to fall from the corner of her eye as she watches her younger brother, a man who only a few days ago she had thought she was never going to see again. He is dressed in his classic combo of ripped skinny jeans, old band shirt and a plaid shirt hanging open over the top. Looking at him now, Tori could almost mistake him for his teenage self.

Especially when she takes in his face. It looks older, yes, in a more defined and comfortable way, that Tori can only describe as beauty. But she can see the traces of sadness on his face. Those same traces he had when he was a teenager trying to hide what he was going through, before it all came crashing down around him.

It’s not as though the last few years of Charle’s life have exactly been easy. But it’s the signs that he is masking his pain again. Signs that only Tori, or their younger brother Olly would notice, that have her worried.

It’s a strange juxtaposition of images in front of her. Of a Charlie who both looks the same, and yet somehow completely different to the man he was before the accident. It’s almost as if he’s missing something.

Well, Tori supposes, he is. Thinking back on everything that had happened only four days ago in that hospital room, Tori remembers the strange, passionate man who had fought for her younger brother to live. Had barred the door and tried desperately to stop them from turning off his life support, only for Charlie to finally wake up, after six and have no clue who he was.

“Hey Spring-Holden’s” comes an over-exuberant voice from Tori’s left. Turning towards the voice, Tori sees the other two people, who make up the quintet she cares most about in this word, Olly, and her golden retriever partner Michael, each carrying a tray of three ice cream cones.

It’s only when watching her own loveable goofball run towards them, an arm wrapped around the ice creams to protect them, that Tori realises what must be happening for her brother. Nick. He's lost Nick. And he doesn’t even know that that’s what he is missing. No wonder he looks so lost, She thinks.

Her gaze flicks back over to Charlie, now wrangling his nieces towards their father and other uncle. She watches as he smiles at his nieces, listening to Michael as he gives them instructions to sit down and eat their ice creams carefully, so as not to drip them everywhere. 

She is watching him so intently, that she is the only one who sees the smile slip. Sees the truth of just how lost Charlie is feeling displayed so openly on his face when he thinks that no one is looking.

Her heart breaks for her brother, the man who she has already seen endure so much. The bravest and strongest person she knows. The love she came so close to losing only four days ago. She remembers the fear and confusion on his face when he finally woke up from that horrible coma. The fear she herself had felt for all those horrible months when he had lain, helpless in that hospital bed, since that fateful night back in September. 

That fear may be gone now, but Tori feels a new one growing in her chest. A fear of the hardships her brother is going to have to face again, now that he has to try and come back to a life that has moved on without him during his six month coma. She fears for him, and the effects that trying to find his new normal will have on his mental health, but she also trusts him. And above all else. She will be here for him.

Chapter Text

Sitting in the backseat of his sister's car, Charlie reflects on the last five days of his life. It’s been a fucking whirlwind to say the least. To him it feels like only a week ago that he was rushing to get to Tao’s birthday dinner, and then the horrible memory of the crash. He flinches away from that memory, not wanting to have to relive it again. 

He remembers waking up confused, his head throbbing slightly and his family and friends surrounding him. It had taken him several hours to register that what had felt like yesterday to him, had actually been six months ago.

The rest of his week has been a series of unsettling realisations about time passing and how much he’s missed, as well as just how close he came to death. All mixed in with weird reminders about his past, and flashes of feelings that something is wrong. Missing. He just can’t pinpoint what that thing is.

It had taken two days after he had woken up, for the hospital to clear him, and he was released into Tori’s care. He had been ready to go home, but he had then learned of another one of the changes that had happened while he’d been comatose. Tori had leased his apartment on a sublet. He wasn't mad about it, in fact he completely understood the decision. He definitely wouldn’t have expected for her and Michael to try and keep up with his rent, while also covering their own mortgage and the costs of raising two young children in today’s economy. He was grateful actually, that they had found a way to keep his apartment for him for so long. But after two days, which he had to keep reminding himself had actually been six months, in the hospital, he really wanted to go home to his own space, and his own bed.

Thankfully, he had only had to crash in his niece Allie’s room, for three nights, during which his two nieces had been having ‘sleepovers’ in Olivia’s room. And now, five days after waking up from his coma, he was finally getting to go home.

He looks up and sees his building come into view as Michael pulls the car over. Tori turns to him from the passenger seat, “ready?” she asks.

“So ready,” he nods. 

He follows his sister and brother-in-law as they lead him up to his flat, unlocking his door before letting him enter first. He walks into the living room, “we only leased it for six weeks,” he faintly registers Tori saying. He continues walking around the flat, taking stock of his things. It’s a strange feeling, being in his own home, but knowing that for the past several weeks his home, his possessions, had belonged to someone else.

He hears Tori placing his keys in the dish he keeps by the front door and turns to her. Everything looks the same, but something feels… off. Like something’s missing. “Did you move something?” he asks.

“No,” Tori shakes her head, “everything is the same as you left it.” She leans slightly into Michael as he comes to stand next to her, one hand looping behind her back and coming to rest on her waist.

“Did you want us to stay for a while, or would you rather be alone?” Michael asks. Charlie smiles, he’s always liked Michael. He may be a little… unique, but he is very perceptive, and has a heart of gold. There is no denying how much he loves Tori, and their two girls. 

“I think I’m ready to be in my own space, on my own for a while. I feel very peopled out after the last five days,” he admits.

He sees a flicker of a smile on Tori’s face. He knows she understands exactly what he means. With a nod, and a brief sibling hug, Tori grabs Michael’s hand, and leads him out of the flat, closing the door quietly behind them.

Finally alone Charlie walks over to his couch and sinks down onto it, his head flopping back onto the head rest. He lays there for a few minutes, his eyes closed, all his focus on taking deep, mindful breaths. A grounding tool his first therapist taught him back when he was a teenager. He relishes the quiet, and the joy of truly being alone for the first time in five days- no, six months, he reminds himself.

Eventually, he begins to feel restless, after all, his body didn’t move for several months, he doesn’t need to be lounging around all the time now, even if his energy levels aren’t yet back to normal. He gets up and walks to the kitchen, intending to make himself a cup of tea.

It isn’t until he goes to grab milk from the fridge that he realises he won’t have any groceries in there.  Shit,  he thinks, adding the chore to his mental to do list. Closing the fridge door, he also closes his eyes and rests his forehead on the door, needing another moment to recalibrate to his strange new reality. 

As his head comes into contact with the door, he feels something crinkle against his skin. Frowning, he stands up to see what the crinkling is, and sees a folded piece of paper stuck to the fridge under his favourite magnet, his name written on the front in clear handwriting that he doesn’t recognise.

Curiosity gets the better of him and he retrieves the note, walking back to the couch and settling himself there before he opens it. When he does, his breath hitches.

Char,

I’m sorry to have to be leaving this here like this. It’s not how I’d like to tell you this, but with circumstances being what they are, it will have to do.

I know you don’t remember me, and I don’t want to scare you, or interrupt your life any further, but I need to tell you this.

I know you have not experienced great love and care in your past. But that is not through any fault of your own. You are such a special person, who is so worthy of love. You deserve to not only be loved, but cherished. Worshipped.

I know people have hurt you, and you feel like the way men have treated you in the past is what you deserve. But I need you to know that my life is way better because I met you. Every shitty thing that has happened in my past, it was worth it to meet you. You are the kindest, most thoughtful and caring and amazing person in the whole world. You’re my favourite person, and you deserve to be someone's everything. I know you can be, because you were. You ARE mine.

I need you to believe me.

Nick

Charlie feels a tear slip down his cheeks at the raw emotion in the letter.

Nick… the stranger who had been at the hospital when he’d woken up. In his confusion at the time, he’d somehow forgotten that there was even a stranger there when he’d first woken up. But now he remembers. That tall man looking down at him, his eyes filled with hope, a light in them that had flickered and died when Charlie had admitted that he had absolutely no idea who the man was.

But this letter. Was it possible that this man somehow truly did know Charlie? Surely not. It wasn’t possible, right? Charlie had been unconscious for months. And before that he had definitely never met this man before. He would have remembered meeting a man who was that unfairly attractive.

No, Charlie definitely didn’t know this man. But according to this letter, somehow, this man, this Nick, knew him. Overwhelmed, Charlie walked over to a cabinet and shoved the letter in the drawer. He definitely doesn’t have the capacity to be dealing with a mystery like this as well as trying to get his life back on track right now. No, whoever this is, whatever this note means, it will have to wait.

🍃🍂🍁🍂🍃

Charlie potters around his kitchen, making himself a cup of tea, now that he has finally managed to source some groceries. He has been home for three days, and the pressure of everything that has been happening had finally hit him once he’d been back in his own space for a few hours. Charlie has slept most of the last three days away, somehow needing more rest, despite his body having done literally nothing but that for months on end until recently.

He had woken up this morning finally feeling a little more refreshed, and decided to finally tackle the task of getting groceries. He’d been avoiding it, using his exhaustion as an excuse. He hated grocery shopping, the task always made him feel immense pressure because of his eating disorder. But he knew that if he delayed it much longer, the task would only get harder as his brain would start creating even more reasons for him to avoid it.

Feeling a sense of pride at having achieved that task, Charlie decides to tackle a few more that he has been avoiding. He throws on a load of laundry, then wanders from room to room, inspecting his belongings, checking for any trace of the person who had lived in his home while he’d been away, his brain needing him to ensure that everything is as it should be.

As he wanders around, his mind stumbles back on the note. He’d been staunchly avoiding thinking about it in the few hours he had been awake over the last few days, but now his brain won’t let him ignore it anymore. Sighing Charlie marches back out to the living room and retrieves the note from the drawer.

Re-reading it a thought occurs to him. How did this Nick person get this note into his flat? Had he been the person who’d rented it for nearly two months? He had to be, right? Charlie did not want to entertain the idea that a stranger could somehow get into his flat whenever they wanted if that wasn’t the case.

He tries to recall the man from the few confusing moments he’d actually interacted with him. Was he dangerous? Did he give off the vibes of someone who could break into his house? Charlie remembers Nick running out of his hospital room after he’d admitted he didn’t know him. Everything about those first few hours is a little hazy, but he tries to focus through the fog to remember exactly what happened. He remembers someone running out of the room after him, shouting his name. A flash of a name comes to him. Something starting with D, shouted after them by Elle, as if she’d known the person.

He tries to remember the name, something about it had sounded oddly familiar. Danny? No, Daisy? Wait, Darcy, that’s it! 

Feeling triumphant at having remembered the name, Charlie tries to reflect on when he’s heard it before. Suddenly it hits him, this must be Elle’s friend Darcy who she always mentions. He tries to remember any other details. He thinks they may be a partner of one of Elle’s colleagues, something like Tanya, maybe?

His mind has completely latched onto the mystery, there is definitely no ignoring it now. Desperately he fishes out his phone, again thankful for his sister, and her having paid his phone bill while he’d been in hospital to keep it active.

He quickly opens instagram and brings up Elle’s page. Scrolling through her followers he finds an account named darcy_the_egg. He clicks on it and sees a familiar mop of multi coloured hair in the profile picture. This is them. Clicking on their story he sees a photo of a woman with dark curly hair smiling in the sun. 

He taps to go to the next picture, and his heart skips a beat. There he is. The stranger from his hospital room. Nick. He looks like he’s in a park, and he’s crouching down to pat a cute brown and white border collie, a far off look in his eyes. 

The next picture is of just the dog with a frisbee and is tagged with the name of a park. A park that is only a few minutes walk from his flat. He checks the time stamp and realises it was only posted 5 minutes ago.