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"Charles? Edwin?" Crystal calls into the void of the dark and seemingly empty office. "Are you guys—" She cuts herself with a gasp as her eyes land on the still figure resting in the corner of the office. "Holy shit!"
It is Edwin, that much is clear. He looks so small; crumpled in a ball with his knees tucked to his chest. There is some broken glass bottle in front of him, and he's dirty now; covered in so much blood and grime that it takes a moment for her to realize he isn't wearing his usual outfit.
Edwin is in what Crystal assumes is his underclothes. She had only ever gotten a glimpse of them in Esther's house as he was strapped to her horrific torture device but he is now so stripped of his usual layers that there can be no other explanation.
Crystal flicks on the lamp that stands beside the office door and rushes over to him, her concern only growing as he doesn't react. She has grown so used to seeing Edwin at his desk—receiving a clipped greeting or admonishment as she enters—that the silence and stillness fills her with dread.
His eyes are open and empty— lacking pupils and irises. "Edwin!" she clamors, reaching out and taking his face in her hands before she can truly think it through.
Crystal feels the breath get knocked out her lungs. Her head is thrown back without much choice and her eyes are fixing on the aged office ceiling.
Then suddenly, she finds she is not in the office at all.
Crystal is in a long, dingy corridor. The lighting is dim and sickly, reminding her of an abandoned hospital you'd see in some found footage horror movie. There are pieces of porcelain lining the hallways: tiny arms and legs that would belong to some vintage dolls. As her eyesight adjusts to the poor lighting that surrounds her, Crystal swears she can spot glass eyes among the piles and piles of doll parts.
There is blood—so much blood—randomly splattered along the hallways as if someone had tried to flee from some sort of violent entity, only to fail.
She is brought back to Charles and Edwin's return from Hell. "A giant spider made of baby doll parts." They had mentioned offhandedly, like that was something they saw every day. It quickly dawns on her where she must be.
Not Hell— not truly, no. She is in Edwin's head, in his memories or some sort of ghostly nightmare that he's fallen into. The bloody underclothes her friend dawns suddenly makes a lot more sense as she thinks back to the limited details of his death she had been given.
Taken in his sleep. Gagged, bound, and sacrificed. This must be where he ended up for all those years.
Crystal feels her stomach churn, overcome with nausea she hasn't felt since Niko's death. She cups a hand over her mouth and takes a deep breath, trying to ground herself. For a moment, she just stands in the hallway and tries to listen for something— what exactly, she doesn't know.
Porcelain remnants crack under her bulky combat boots as she makes her way around the corner. She doesn't know what to expect but she certainly does not expect to see Edwin, laying on the floor with half his body obscured by the corner of another wall. His eyes are shut and he's bloodier than he was before. His arm is extended out in front of him as if reaching for something or someone.
"Edwin!" Crystal runs to him, ignoring the tense silence she probably shouldn't be breaking. She skids to a halt as she rounds the other corner, her eyes fixed on where Edwin's top half ends in a mess of blood and bone and splayed organs. His bottom half—from his hips to his feet—is missing. The only proof that he had it at all being a long, dark trail of blood that streaks down the hallway he lays in.
Crystal cannot hold back her sickness this time, turning on her heels to vomit in the corner behind her. She is shaking violently now, unable to stop herself from sobbing as she crouches down to examine the remains of her friend. Her tears blur her eyes and a part of her is thankful for that.
She cannot stand to see her friend so mangled.
"Crystal," Someone whispers harshly to her from the end of the hallway where the blood trail stops, her head snapping up to meet the gaze of whoever it belongs to. "Crystal!"
Blinking her tears away, she realizes that it is Edwin. He's still in his underclothes but is no longer caked in blood. She glances down to the body at her feet. It's not some sort of cruel trick. Edwin is still laying there but he is also standing at the end of the hall, looking drained but not mauled.
She doesn't understand.
She opens her mouth to speak but Edwin brings a finger to his lips, instructing her to stay silent as he soundlessly traipses over to her. He doesn't even glance at the body in front of them, opting to take Crystal by the hand and lead her away from the horrific sight.
Crystal cannot help but crumble when she's been lead far enough away. It is no longer in front of her but when she closes her eyes she can still see the remains of his mutilated body. "How are you—" She begins to ask but Edwin is quick to cut her off.
"That is not important." Edwin hisses, his grip on her arm tightening imperceptibly. "We must get out of here."
"Crystal? Edwin?" A voice calls, but it sounds far away. It's so familiar, a name is on the tip of her tongue but she can't focus with the bruising touch of her friend and the horrors that surround her. "Crystal, come on! What am I supposed to—"
There is something skittering towards them, soft giggles filling the silence.
"Crystal!" The voice calls again, sounding closer now. "Edwin! You guys have to—" the voice is clearer, as if they are inside this gruesome labyrinth with the two of them.
"—come back!" Crystal is jolted back to reality. A long, shuddering gasp leaving her lips as she attempts to take a breath in. She is in the office, her face damp with tears and sweat. She is still cupping Edwin's cheeks.
Edwin, who is staring at her, is faring no better. He is no longer bloody, but tears are streaming down his face and snot is dripping from his nose. He shakes in her hold— or maybe, she is the one shaking. She cannot tell. "Edwin," she calls between gasps. "Edwin, oh my god—"
There are arms wrapping around the two of them, pulling them up into an awkwardly posed hug. "I was gone for two seconds." The voice says, and only then does it dawn on her that Charles is here, now. "You guys are okay, you're okay." He whispers to his two friends. Charles squeezes into the space between them and the wall, maneuvering them in such a way that they are forced to lean against them, their heads resting upon each of his shoulders.
"I'm so sorry! I'm sorry— Edwin, I didn't mean to—" she babbles, her apologies jumbled within the heaving sobs that escape her.
Charles brings a hand to her head, pulling his friends closer to him until they are practically one being, mortal and spectre energy buzzing everywhere they touch. Crystal sinks into his hold, hiding her face in the crook of Charles' neck. Blindly, she reaches out beside her for her other friend, clumsily taking his hands and intertwining their fingers. She lets her eyes close, lets the sound of Edwin's harsh breaths and Charles's shushing ground her until she is no longer sobbing.
It could be minutes or hours later when she wakes on the couch—Crystal isn't sure—but she doesn't feel even a bit rested. A part of her is surprised that she didn't have some sort of nightmare in her brief period of slumber but when she blinks away the sleep in her puffy eyes, she realizes why.
She is laying atop Charles, who holds her tightly with one arm while the other seemingly hangs off the couch. Crystal wriggles in his hold, raising her head from the crook of his neck to take in the entirety of their current arrangement. Charles' free hand is seemingly, not free at all, as he clings to the fabric of Edwin's pant leg. Edwin is sitting on the couch, sort of nestled into the corner with Charles' head resting in his lap. He is in his familiar, proper outfit now— only missing his coat. One of his hands are wound loosely in the other boy's curls while his other rests gently atop her.
That would explain the hint of touch she feels on her shoulder blade. He isn't rubbing circles into the fabric of her shirt like Charles might. His hand merely rests atop her, a reminder that he is here with her.
Silent and rigid but in one piece, and that's all Crystal could ask for at the moment.
She wants to say something, wants to apologize for invading something so private and traumatic but she cannot find it in herself to break the silence that has fallen over them.
Luckily, she doesn't have to.
Edwin clears his throat from his spot on the couch, his eyes drooping and tired. "I am truly sorry you had to experience... all of that, Crystal." He says, his voice weaker than she's ever heard. "I mishandled a captured nightmare while trying to reorganize the office and obviously, you saw the consequences of that."
"A nightmare?" Crystal asks, though she knows that is the least important part of the conversation. "Like, a literal nightmare?"
Edwin responds with a curt nod, wriggling out from under Charles' weight. He stands from the couch, turning on his heels—graceful as ever—to face the others still laying on the couch. "If I may break the ice, as they say—"
Charles is quick to manuever he and Crystal until they are more so sitting up, his arm still wrapped securely around her. He holds her close, bringing her head to rest on his shoulder. "Mate, you don't have to—"
"Yeah, Edwin. We really—" Crystal begins to agree.
"No." Edwin says as if it is something he will not compromise on. "If you are hesitant to discuss Hell because you believe I might be uncomfortable, I assure you, that will not be a problem." He huffs, taking his suit jacket and wrapping it tightly around his frame like some sort of security blanket. "I feel as if this is something we need to discuss now that we have all... fallen victim to the atrocities of Hell."
"It's not your fault, Edwin." Charles says and even though she hasn't been here too long, Crystal knows that was where this was going. "You can't seriously think this is your fault."
"It is a fact." Edwin argues. "I am the one who went to Hell—"
"On a clerical error!"
"But I went there nonetheless. You," he motions to Charles. "only saw Hell because you were forced to retrieve me from there and Crystal," he motions, "only saw Hell because of my memories and missteps."
Charles opens his mouth to speak but he is cut off by Crystal rising from the couch, her eyes blazing. "First of all, Charles wasn't 'forced to retrieve you' from Hell! He stupidly and eagerly volunteered! Edwin, he argued with the Night Nurse until she had no choice but to let him go! And I would've gone down for you too if I could have! Seeing Hell earlier was fucking traumatizing but it wasn't because it was Hell! It was because you were there! Bloody and mangled and—" Her voice breaks and she can't help but look away from the others.
She sees Charles stand in her periphery, feels him inch closer until their shoulders are brushing.
"I never want to see you like that again." She croaks out, risking a glance at the two boys beside her. They have matching faraway looks in their eyes— like they're thinking of something similar. "Please don't tell me—" she starts to beg but cuts herself off, knowing better than to wish for something she cannot be promised.
"Yeah, we did too." Charles mumbles, clenching his jaw. "It was.. I don't think I have a word to describe how it made me feel."
"She did not see the spider, though." Edwin says, as if that is any sort of consultation. "It was getting close before you rescued us."
"I'll always rescue you." Charles vows, his eyes flitting between his two friends. "Both of you."
Edwin nods, and Crystal can't help but give him a weak smile.
"You spent seventy years with that thing?" Crystal asks before she can even think it through. She freezes once the words leave her mouth, screwing her eyes shut for just a second. "Shit, sorry. I shouldn't have—"
"No, I don't think I did." Edwin interrupts. "It was hard to tell time while I was there but I believe I spent.. more than half the time in the Dollhouse, while I spent the beginning of my time there between two different demons."
Crystal blanches and can feel Charles tense beside her.
"Apologies." Edwin says quickly, his brows furrowing. "I did not mean to—"
"Stop apologizing." Charles orders through gritted teeth. "You don't have to apologize."
"Yes, well.." Edwin trails off and tightens his suit jacket around himself once more. For a moment, he just stands there, his eyes flitting between his two friends. "I loathe the fact that it continues to follow me, even after I've escaped. It makes me
feel like a liability of sorts." The words are quiet, more of a confession to himself than anyone else but it hits both Charles and Crystal nonetheless.
"You're not the only one with baggage, Edwin." Crystal says, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "I have my shit with David and Charles has his shit with his dad. We're learning how to handle it, together."
Charles nods beside her, his uncharacteristically serious. "We're a team, yeah? We help eachother."
"I do not— hm." Edwin cuts himself off with a hum, pursing his lips and furrowing his brows. "I do not wish to burden either of you."
"Look, I don't have too much experience being a good friend but I can tell you for a fact that caring for you is not a burden." Crystal says, stepping forward and taking one of Edwin's hands between her own.
Edwin glances down at their joined hands, then at Charles and for a moment, he feels paralyzed with something like embarrassment. He remembers his meltdown in Port Townsend, the way his two companions stared at him like he was something to be feared.
"You could never be a burden." Charles says gently, stepping forward and into their space once again. He looks like he has more to say but he just swallows, his gaze flitting away. "Never ever, yeah? Would you think Crystal and I a burden for dealing with our own shit?"
"No," Edwin bristles. "You both know I would—" He cuts himself off with a sharp gasp, fixing his eyes on Crystal. "Crystal, you were not a burden when you joined us. Please tell me you know that. I was just— I begrudge to admit that I was merely scared of the fact that we were being followed by—"
"David." Crystal nods, a faraway look in her eyes. She thinks of the unfiltered fear and then, the resignation on his face as he sunk into the ground below her. She thinks of how quiet her mind had become and how calm she has felt since he was forced away.
"Precisely." Edwin's eyes skip over to Charles and for a moment, he looks as if he is mulling something over. He glances down at his shoes, brows furrowed. "I do apologize for that. You had been tricked into giving away your autonomy and I did not think of how hard that must've been for you."
"I'm sorry, too." Crystal replies in a soft and small voice, like she's addressing a wounded animal; it's strange to hear herself so gentle. "I shouldn't have been so mean about Hell, ya know, before."
"You couldn't have known." Edwin supplies with a rare air of sincerity. He says it in a way that is so casual, like someone had gotten him the wrong flavor of ice cream. Not at all like someone who's torture had been so carelessly dismissed.
"That night," Charles starts softly. "when I said that it wasn't a contest— Edwin, I didn't—"
"I know, Charles."
"No, but—"
"I assure you, you do not have to apologize."
Charles takes a hesitant step forward, his eyes locked on where Crystal's and Edwin's hands are intertwined. "I don't want you to feel like you can't talk to us." He says, a pleading edge to his voice. "I want you to talk to us."
Crystal nods beside him, giving Edwin's hand a squeeze for emphasis. "We just wanna help." She adds.
Edwin's bottom lip trembles, his brows raising as if he's truly caught off guard. "Oh—" He attempts, but is immediately cut off by a sob ripping its way through his throat. Once it starts, he is horrified to find he cannot stop. Edwin practically collapses forward into the hold of his two friends, unable to apologize for bringing them down onto the floor with him as his body shakes with sobs.
Despite being a ghost, despite not needing to breathe, Edwin feels as if he is choking. He blindly grasps at his friends, gripping their arms like a lifeline. "I'm— I'm sor—" He attempts again. "I don't— I—"
There's a gentle hand running down the length of his spine, another running its fingers through his hair. The touch grounds him, if only slightly, as he continues to wail into their arms.
"It's okay, Edwin." Someone says, voice soft and gentle. For a moment, just a moment, Edwin imagines white hair and a blinding smile. "It's okay." Crystal assures. Of course, Crystal. Not—
She's not—
It is obviously Crystal.
He relaxes into the assurance despite everything telling him to stay still. He shouldn't move, shouldn't breathe. What if it hears him? What if it finds him?
What if it finds Charles and Crystal?
"We're in the office." Charles says, as if reading Edwin's mind. "You're safe with us, Edwin. We're not letting you go."
The hands on him still and before he can even question his companions, Edwin is being pulled up to stand and quickly is guided to the couch once again despite being blinded by tears. He is still shaking, he realizes embarrassingly late, wrapping his arms around himself in an attempt to comfort or shield himself, he doesn't know which.
Charles and Crystal sit on either side of him, and—though Edwin would deny this vehemently—he cannot stop the humiliating noise of refusal when the other boy goes to move.
"I know," Charles says with a sad smile, squeezing his shoulder. "I'll be right back. Just a tick, love."
Crystal glances from Edwin to Charles, politely ignoring the shuddering gasp that leaves Edwin's lips and the way the term of endearment seems to have shocked some sense into the other boy, if only for now.
Charles, true to his word, doesn't go far. He merely crosses the office to go to the coat rack, snatching his worn jacket and draping it over Edwin's shoulders. Edwin doesn't question it, doesn't fight it. He grabs the jacket by the lapels and wraps it tighter around himself, keeping his touch gentle as he sinks into the fabric of it.
It's tangible, in a way that not many things are these days. Edwin cherishes it, ignoring the strong urge he has to slip his arms through the sleeves to dawn it properly.
He doesn't— not yet, at least. Instead, Edwin takes Charles by the arm and pulls him onto the couch. With the weight of his two friends on either side of him, he feels like he can at least try and calm himself down.
Crystal lets out a heavy sigh, her shoulders sagging as she leans against Edwin like she can't exactly help it. Edwin wraps an arm stiffly around her, feeling unsure of what to do with his hand once it is on the girl's shoulder. It seems she doesn't mind his awkward demeanor, she even leans into it.
"We're okay." She whispers, just loud enough for the two boys to hear. "We're gonna be okay."
"Yes," Edwin agrees just as quietly. "I rather think we will be."
A moment of silence passes and for just a second, Edwin thinks that is the end of this dreadful conversation.
He is wrong.
"Does it ever—" Crystal cuts herself off with a sharp inhale but her next words come out shakily anyway. "Does it ever go away?"
Edwin finds he cannot give an answer and Charles has gone eerily still beside him. He thinks of his first seventy years in Hell. He imagines the Doll Spider in the same perfect detail he can only ever imagine Charles in. He thinks of the warmth of his blood, the loss of his limbs. He thinks of dragging himself along the sharp pieces of porcelain because his legs have been broken long ago and the Doll Spider just loved to play with its food.
"No," Edwin finally says. "I don't believe it goes away."
Then, he thinks of a dying boy he met in an attic. He thinks of a sad, psychic girl and their fallen friend— thinks of the way they all fought so hard to save him, from Hell and from Esther. He thinks of Cluedo games and quiet conversations. He thinks of Scooby Doo and red sea glass. He thinks of hugs and clasped hands and a touch on the shoulder.
"It gets easier, though."
Crystal lets out a shuddering sigh. "Easier," she repeats quietly. "I can work with easier. I think."
"And we'll be here, yeah?" Charles vows, glancing at his two friends like there's nothing he'd like more than to spend the rest of time with them.
Edwin closes his eyes and thinks of a lantern's light, thinks of Charles' smile and Crystal's laughter. He will think of Niko, too—even if it hurts—even if he falls apart.
He'll have Charles and Crystal to catch him.
They're not letting him go.