Chapter Text
Cool blue skies shone overhead, not a single cloud in sight. Edwin knew that eventually the sun would heat the air enough around him that he would start to sweat and eventually have to move under some shade, but for now it was perfect.
Chilly, perhaps, but perfect.
There were no other boys around, no one to judge him for what he was reading or how he was standing. No one to point out how badly he had failed during his sports lessons earlier.
Just him and the open sky.
Unfortunately, it never stayed that way for long.
Simon and his friends appeared, hardly even noticing Edwin. He hoped that it would stay that way, that they might pass on by and leave him be.
Things hardly ever went the way he wanted them.
As soon as he thought this, pain shot through him, actually forcing a scream from his throat. It burned as he did so, despite him knowing there was something wrong about that thought. Everything else hurt so much, it was hard to figure out why.
He forced his eyes open, staring up an an unfamiliar ceiling. An unfamiliar living room filled the edges of his vision, while an equally unfamiliar voice sang an unfamiliar song.
Everything was unfamiliar. And Edwin hated it.
Something crashed in another room, sending up curses from the blonde woman swaying back and forth across from him.
"I've said it before and I'll say it again, dogs who can't behave get put down," she said as she swanned into the next room where Charles was being held.
Charles!
He wasn't unfamiliar. Or at least not anymore so than anything else. Edwin sobbed as he longed to reach out for him, to scream for him, even though he knew he couldn't reach him.
That crow, Monty, flapped his wings as he flew back into the room. He kept his distance from Edwin, however, instead choosing to stick to the shelf near the window.
"Charles!" Edwin yelled, unable to articulate much else. He wanted to tell Esther to leave him alone, to free him and let them both go, but he didn't have it in him to do so. He barely had enough to yell even Charles's simple, wonderful name.
Esther peeked her head back into the room. "Oh good, you're back with us. God, I really thought we were going to be stuck with you whining and screaming forever," she said. Then, as if it were truly a minor inconvenience, she shrugged her shoulders and walked over towards him. "Not that I really mind. A bit of screaming is a nice trade off for infinite power."
If Edwin ever got out of there, he was going to make sure she went to Hell. Possibly even dragged back down with him if it had to be like that.
She leaned her head back in to say something to Charles again, which set him off yelling, angry and upset and vengeful. It was almost comforting to know that Charles felt this way, that if he had it his way he would do something terrible to Esther and protect the both of them.
It didn't make the pain any less, but it did comfort him in a strange way.
Monty flapped his wings, as if he were surprised by something. Edwin tried to see what it was that upset the bird, but it was too dark outside, streaks of another storm starting to come in. he missed the butcher shop, missed Niko's poster covered walls and pillow covered floor.
He hoped Crystal and Niko were okay. He hadn't seen Esther do anything to them, but that counted for very little, as far as Edwin was concerned. He wouldn't be surprised if she had left at some point just to kill them.
The only thing that reassured him she likely hadn't was the fact that she hadn't bragged about it yet. And she definitely seemed like the type to do so.
Once more, he tried to wiggle his wrists free from the iron holding him down. It burned, but Edwin was used to pain. What was a little more?
The true curse was how solid it made him feel. It made slipping free difficult, even after the many burns and twists and turns he tried. Solid, but still not real. Like some sort of twisted fairy tale curse that had backfired on him.
Still, he tried. Maybe if he ripped hard enough he could burn through enough of his skin to free himself, a small wrist or hand could slide out easier, after all. He worked at it, willing to burn his hands and feet completely off if he had to do it, like an animal gnawing his limbs off for freedom.
Monty landed on him once more, his beak tapping at the iron cuff. As if to chastise Edwin for hurting himself or maybe to try and explain why he was having such a hard time breaking free. But he already knew why he couldn't. He just needed to find out how to do so.
Black wings flapped over him, as Monty let out another squawk again. Edwin twisted his wrist, uncaring of the pain or anything else as he felt as he pulled. He tucked his thumb in as far as he could go, feeling it creak and start to break as he worked it's way free.
"Monty!" Esther's voice broke through his concentration. "Leave your stuffy ghost boyfriend alone."
Edwin stopped, confused.
Monty let out another indignant caw as he hopped further down Edwin's body, leading Esther's eye's away from Edwin's wrist. As if he were trying to distract her…
Subtly, Edwin tried to pry his hand the rest of the way free. But there really was no being "subtle" when it came to breaking your hand and burning yourself.
But Esther's attention seemed to be stuck on the bird in front of her, far less concerned with Edwin. It was like she knew he was stuck and that there really wasn't anything he could do about it.
Too bad she doubted how stubborn he could be.
His thumb dislocated, or possibly broke, it was difficult to tell over the burning, but he continued on. He was going to get at least one hand free and then he'd… What? He didn't really have a plan after that, but everything had to start somewhere.
"Maybe I should turn you back into a boy," Esther said to Monty. "At least then you could be an extra pair of hands." She cast an appraising glance over the shiny bird, his head twitching this way and that as he listened. "Then again this would all be so easy if I just… got rid of one of them."
Edwin could tell what the threat implied. Getting rid of Charles. Esther needed Edwin, needed the energy that he could give her.
But she didn't need Charles. Not like Edwin did.
"Good idea, Monty," she said, as if the bird has suggested it. He hopped away from her trying to bop him on the beak, ducking and moving back onto the window sill as he did so.
Edwin tried to lay his arm still, to not make it so obvious that he had managed to free one of his hands. "Please, just let him go," Edwin said. "You're already so strong, he won't be able to stop you. Please."
The truth of his words rang true. Charles likely wouldn't be able to stop Esther, not without a miracle. Edwin didn't know the exact meaning of anything that was happening, but 'beating a super powerful witch who already beat us once,' didn't exactly seem to be in the realm of possibility for him.
"It's always so nice to hear some manners from a younger generation. But no, I don't think I will," Esther said, picking up her iron cane. "After all, I'd be doing him a favor. Listening to you scream must be killing him."
The second Esther turned her back to him, Edwin reached over with his freed hand and started to pull on his captured one. He tucked in his thumb, easily ignoring the pain from the one already free as he did so, and tried to pull it loose too.
"What the fuck!?"
Esther's voice nearly shook the house from her volume. She swung back into the room, her eyes burning daggers into Edwin. "Where did he go?" she asked.
Edwin stopped, frozen in the process of trying to free his other arm. She marched over and dug her nails into his free wrist, digging into the burns and cuts as she ripped it away from his still captured one. "Where is he?"
He shook his head, not understanding. Her voice was a growl, oh so similar to the demons in Hell as she dug in even deeper. "You and him, you're nothing but problems, you know it? And when I catch him, I'm going to make him wish I erased him."
Edwin squirmed, trying to jerk free. He knew it wouldn't work, that she had the upper hand here, but he didn't care. It reminded him of when he had first been captured by the demons in Hell, when he had first tried to fight back before learning that it was pointless, useless.
Still, it was worth it if it gave Charles even a few more moments to get away.
Because that's exactly what must have happened. He must have broken free and ran, exactly like Edwin had done in Hell. It was only fair. And if Charles ever felt the need to return, Edwin would feel eternally grateful, but he couldn't judge him for it now.
He sat up and smashed his forehead against Esther's nose, blood spurting from it so fast it covered Edwin in the process. Her grip on him faltered as she fell back, landing in a heap on the floor.
"Oh, ooohh, ho ho," she laughed, her nose clogged with blood. "You are so fucked."
Edwin didn't even get a chance to ask what that meant before the machine turned back on and pain overwhelmed him.
XXX
The next demon he went to didn't have a name. Or, Edwin supposed, he must have, but he never learned it. The only thing he learned to associate with him was screaming, the sounds of panic and pain ripping through him as he tried to hold out for as long as he could.
It was almost like a game. If he screamed early they were both disappointed, and the demon made Edwin suffer more. If he held on too long the demon would also make it worse because Edwin had wasted too much of his time.
There was a sweet spot in there, almost like the Goldilocks of suffering.
He didn't know how long he was with him, only that it took him too long to learn that sweet spot. Long hours of suffering, of pain, of feeling the blades or fire or whatever new thing he wanted to try out against Edwin while he debated if he should scream now or later.
Still, it hadn't lasted forever, no matter what his brain told him.
Eventually, another demon set came along and Edwin was shuffled off to them. A duo who reminded him of riddles and lies and only ever told him how much he deserved to be there.
Sometimes it was with words, other times it was actions. One of them would hurt him, only for the other to lean down and tell him, "Do you feel that? It means you belong here."
A demon had to know who belonged right?
He had tried to argue that he didn't belong there, that he had only been a sacrifice and all of this was a mistake, but that only seemed to make them happier.
"You wouldn't be able to feel the pain if you didn't belong. You wouldn't be able to see us," they said, though Edwin didn't understand what that meant.
Perhaps they were lying again. Or perhaps they were telling the truth, that Edwin was always meant for Hell.
XXX
His hearing returned to him slowly, though none of his other senses seemed to. There was a girl here now, screaming. He knew her voice, even though he couldn't place her name.
Slowly, he opened his eyes. A short girl faced off against Esther, arguing though Edwin couldn't tell what about. She was yelling, that much was obvious, and Esther certainly seemed less than amused.
Where had she come from?
Hair so bright and white it almost didn't make sense moved into his vision as Niko crouched down next to him, trying her best to free him. She pulled against the iron cuff, doing nothing other than burning Edwin in the process.
The only way she was going to be able to help like this was with the keys, though he had no idea how she would get them from Esther.
"Edwin," she said, her voice quiet and sad.
He reached over with his free hand, ignoring the way his thumb ached as he did so. She winced when she caught a glimpse of it, and Edwin figured it must be visibly broken. "Help me," he said, and she nodded.
"Okay," she whispered, hardly loud enough to hear. "What do I need to do?"
Edwin mimed cracking his thumb further into his hand, just like he had with his other hand. She paled, a sickly green tint covering her face as she did so. "It'll only hurt for a moment," he said, lying. Though it really would be nothing compared to the other pain he'd felt before. What was a little bit of pain for freedom?
"O-okay," she said, still unsure. She grabbed his hand and held it for a moment before dropping it, shaking her head. "I can't."
Edwin nodded. He couldn't possibly be upset with her, not when he knew that she had likely never had to break or tear her own limbs before. "Look away," he said, and reached with his other hand to jam his thumb down, ignoring the pain, ignoring the squeak Niko gave at the sound.
He squeezed his hand free, finally able to sit up completely without anything holding the top part of him down. His legs were still locked in place, but already he felt loads better.
Now, he'd just need to do something about that.
"Oh no you don't," Esther said, blasting Niko away from her spot next to Edwin. She smashed against the far wall, her body bouncing to the floor and unmoving. Both he and Crystal screamed for her, though there was little he could do to help.
His fingers burned as he reached for the pieces holding his ankles in place. With both hands, he might be able to pry them open, and if not, well, who even needed feet.
Caws joined Esther and Crystal's screaming match. He jumped as Monty landed on the table next to him, so sure the bird was going to try and stop him from escaping.
Instead, he held a keyring in his beak, tilting his head this way and that way as he stomped on the table.
Edwin's hands shook as he tried to take the keys. "Thank you," he said. He knew he was missing something important with this crow, but he couldn't figure it out.
It was difficult to test out keys with broken thumbs. His dexterity was at an all time low and some of the keys were made out of iron. Crystal screamed from where Esther had her pinned to the wall, screaming that it was going to be okay to Niko and himself, though he wasn't sure what made her say that. Nothing about this scenario seemed alright.
The keys slipped from his burned fingers, crashing against the table with a clatter. He cursed— himself, Esther, the keys, Hell, anything he could think of before inhaling and grabbing them again.
Somehow, he managed to free one of his ankles, the skin he could see through his socks blackened and burnt. Part of him wanted to sob, to acknowledge how much it hurt and do something about that, but there was a stronger part of him. The part that had been forged by Hell that told him it didn't matter, he just needed free.
He shoved the key into his other shackle and clicked it before he risked a glance over at Crystal and Esther.
The witch stood over her, screaming something about not being able to trick her or what was important or something, Edwin wasn't sure, but he knew he needed to do something. Esther was going to kill her if he didn't.
He started to get up, to swing his legs towards the edge of the table to check on Niko, to save Crystal, to literally do anything other than just lay there, but he didn't even get that far. The arms of the machine came down, catching him with their sharp prods and draining him again.
He screamed, despite his better instincts.
XXX
He wasn't even sure what part of his time in Hell he was in now, but he knew he had to get away. The Dollhouse, he knew, but he couldn't tell how long he'd been there. Days, weeks, months. Moments. All he knew was that if he stopped now he would never get out, and Edwin Payne was nothing if not stubborn.
He wasn't just running for himself, though. He was running for someone, to someone.
Edwin had never run for someone before.
"You ruined my fun," a voice said. That woman, the one from the mirror.
Edwin turned, skidding to a halt to look at a mirror he hadn't even noticed in the hall. It was dingy, and spotty, the reflective material chipped and wearing and splattered with old gore. He was sure that it wasn't supposed to be there, even if he wasn't sure how he knew that.
"What?" he asked.
"Your murderer," she said, and he knew for certain that she meant Simon. "You absolved him. Let one of the other Endless have him."
His heart skipped in his chest. Endless? That was a familiar term, one that scratched at his brain. He had the image of soft blue light, of kind words even though they filled him with fear.
"I—" Edwin said. Because he hadn't meant to do that, he was sure.
Or maybe he had. It was confusing in his brain, as if there were two versions of him. One who wanted Simon to be at peace and another who was angry that he got to be when Edwin was still running, still scared and in pain.
"I suppose I will have to find my own fun," she said. "All of my friends do suffer so beautifully you know," she said. "Especially those with a name such as yours. Payne. Pretty little Payne."
Edwin wanted to run, but before he could, something caught on to him. He thought for sure it was the Dollhouse demon, ready to rip and tear him apart, but it wasn't.
Overwhelming dread filled him, weighing him down. There was no point in running, no point in escaping. Not when it meant suffering, when there would be so much still wrong.
It would be easier to stay here, and never try again.
Some part of his brain knew that this was the work of the wraiths around him, that they were lying and trying to convince him that it was useless. But happy thoughts seemed miles away, unclear enough that he wasn't sure he'd ever had any before.
He thought of a boy, with a golden chain and earring. Of loud music and cracking jokes. Hastily scrawled messages in terrible handwriting, and playful shoulder shakes. Laughing until he cried. Feeling safe and at home in a way no other place had ever felt before.
Feeling loved. Feeling in love.
But it was slipping away, too hard to hold onto. The misery wraiths were doing their job, taking everything he ever cared about away until he couldn't hold on to them. Tainting them until he felt as though they were never real.
And maybe they never were.
XXX
He came back to himself screaming. It somehow hurt worse now that he knew how close he was to freedom, that if he had just been a bit faster he could have been off the table, away from all that pain.
All of him creaked as he sat up. Edwin could see Esther over the top of Crystal's head, pissed off and shaking as she geared up her next move. "You little shits. You ruin everything." Edwin could see her shifting, moving in a way that let him know she was going to do something to Crystal, and Edwin was afraid. He couldn't let her get hurt, not after she and Niko had braved Esther's house for him and Charles. He couldn't be the reason a new friend got hurt.
He leaned forward and pushed, shoving Crystal down, down out of the way. His hands left her shoulders as she tipped forward, safe, and sound and most importantly, not in Esther's way.
"Edwin!" Niko yelled from her position on the ground. He briefly heard her scrambling up, as if she might try and stop any of this from happening, but it was too late.
That bolt of light Esther had formed flew from her hand and slammed into Edwin's chest, taking away his unneeded breath. He gasped, hand flying up to try and debate whether or not he should pull it out, or hold it in, but the light disappeared, instead leaving a bleeding wound he couldn't seem to stop.
"Edwin!" Crystal also yelled, her voice and Niko's mixing in his ears as he fell backwards, back onto the table. He couldn't help the whine of pain as he hit it, his throat narrow as it tried to hold in the noise. His hands uselessly fluttered against his chest, red blood coating them as he tried to stop it.
He was a ghost. He shouldn't hurt anymore. He shouldn't bleed anymore.
Unless all of this had been another trick of Hell. Unless everything he had seen up until this point was just to further torment him.
He spiraled on that thought, on the idea that everything up until this point had been a lie. That Niko and Scooby Doo was fake, that Crystal and her supportive way of wanting him to choose for himself was a lie.
That Charles— protective, lovely, caring Charles, was just a trick of the mind. Something only a mind so desperate for comfort could create.
He could feel tears leaking out of his eyes, though he did nothing to stop them. He didn't know if he could.
Niko appeared above him, her eyes wide as she tried to reassure him. He couldn't understand the words, but her voice was one long, endless streak of kindness as she flitted her hands over him before finally settling them in his hair and over the wound in his chest. He gasped as she tried to put pressure on it, the red staining her white sleeves.
Another trick of Hell, no doubt.
She was talking to someone, likely Crystal, though Edwin couldn't see. Blood dripped from her hairline, likely where she had hit her head earlier. Good to see Hell or Edwin's mind were good at consistency.
He closed his eyes and wondered when it would end. Would he open his eyes and see a demon standing above him? See it enjoying the pain and fear and absolute heartbreak he was experiencing?
Everything grew so loud around them, though Edwin couldn't determine why. Eventually, one voice became clear, standing out among all the chaos and pain.
Charles.
Edwin wanted to crawl to him, to find him and make sure he was real. He had to be. Right? Never in Edwin's wildest dreams would he have made someone as kind or as beautiful as Charles.
He'd known Charles was beautiful the second he saw him. Those dark curls and expressive eyes, the way his hands had so gently held Edwin when he'd first found him, trying to coax him back to himself— back to Charles. The way his singular earring had caught the light of the lantern he carried, reminding Edwin of actual stars all the way back home. Stars from years ago, stars he could no longer see because there was too much light…
He was almost certain it was a trick now, but he didn't care. If the last moments he spent with this body was spent next to Charles, then he could be happy.
With a cry, Edwin rolled off of the table, his limbs aching, his chest burning. It felt like all of him had been drained, leaving only the vague memory of what used to be a person behind.
"Edwin!" Charles said, his arms suddenly everywhere. Around Edwin, supporting him, one of his hands coming up to support his head and neck as he turned so he could look at him.
Tears dripped down Charles's face as he sobbed, begging Edwin to answer. "Mate, c'mon. You're okay, you're free. I gotcha."
He did have him. Edwin knew that, knew that probably better than anything else he knew. Still it was hard to make his tongue work, to form the words he wanted to say to him. That he knew, that he might not have his memories back yet but he knew that he loved him now.
And it didn't matter if Charles felt the same way. He just wanted him to know.
"Charles," he said, hating how weak his voice sounded. It cracked on his name, hardly managing to even make it past his lips before it died in the air.
"Shh," Charles said. He brushed his hair back off his face, those sweaty curls sticking to his hand a bit as he did so.
Edwin shook his head as he tried to force the words out. "No," he said. He grabbed onto Charles's arm, weakly pulling himself into a sitting position. Or he attempted to, at least. The product was far from successful, instead sending shocks of pain through his whole body that left him gasping against it.
Charles shifted, stretching his legs out in front of them. "You're okay, shh," he said, still attempting to quiet him. One of his hands sank down onto his chest, pressing against the wound like that might do anything to staunch the bleeding.
Maybe there was a reason Charles wanted him to be quiet. Maybe they weren't safe yet, Esther, the demon, whatever had taken his memories. Anything could be around them.
He whimpered, holding on to Charles's arms with all of his admittedly limited strength. Fingernails digging into his jacket until fibers threatened to rip apart underneath them.
Edwin knew what to do when there was danger. He knew how to be quiet, to make himself small and curl up, his breathing low and impossible to hear, his body rigid and locked because eyes tracked movement before they tracked almost anything.
He could be good for Charles. Quiet for Charles.
"Edwin?" Charles asked. He tried to pull away, to glance down at him, but he couldn't seem to pry him off.
"Please, no," Edwin said, though he wasn't certain who he was begging. Or even what for. Fate, God, Charles? For him to stay, for him to leave so he'd be safe? For this all to be over, or maybe for it to finally start again so he didn't have to wait for the other shoe to drop.
"Fuck," Charles said under his breath. His voice was clogged for tears and emotions, almost preventing Edwin from hearing what he said. "Niko, gimme my bag. Please!"
Edwin wouldn't go back in there. He wouldn't. Especially not if it would take him away from Charles.
He dug his fingers into Charles's arm, unable to care if it hurt. He'd feel bad about it later, when there was time to do so. Right now, the only thing he cared about was making sure Charles stayed with him.
"Hey, hey, mate, you're good, you're okay," Charles said. "Just gonna get something that might help, yeah?"
Edwin had no clue what he would possibly be reaching for, but he wouldn't let him. He wanted his arms to stay around him, and if he lifted them to dig around in his bag it might kill him.
"Okay, okay," Charles said, as if Edwin had said this out loud. Perhaps he had, if the devastated look on Charles's face was anything to go by.
Then again, dying in Charles's arms would be a better way to go then he had ever felt before. If he could just close his eyes and drift off with him next to him, well… He'd certainly suffered worse fates before.
"Edwin?" Charles tapped his cheek, trying to draw his eyes back open. "Edwin, I'm not playing. Come on, look at me."
Edwin cracked his eyes open. He could do this, he could look at him for one last sentence.
"I love you," he said. He didn't entirely know what kind of love, that all consuming, passionate thing he'd read about in novels or the brother-in-arms type of love he had heard so much about in the war. But it was real, and it was the thing he was most sure about now.
Realization seemed to sink in to Charles's expression, his eyes widening, his mouth parting slightly as if he wanted to say something to him. But Edwin knew it didn't matter, knew that it likely wouldn't ever matter because he was going to die again, right? Be reborn somewhere else in Hell where he would get ripped apart and killed again, possibly this time without Charles to help him.
Soft, blue light slowly filled the room behind Charles, lighting him in the most gentle way Edwin had ever seen before. He closed his eyes and let whatever happened happen, knowing that it didn't matter as long as Charles was there.