Archive of Our Own ^beta

They had split up to search the client's house. Crystal had seen enough horror movies to know that it was an awful idea, but by now it had become so routine that she didn't even question it anymore. Hindsight's 20/20.

When she entered the spacious living room, Edwin was already there.

“The second floor checks out,” she told him. “Nothing weird as far as I could tell. How about you?”

He didn't answer. He was standing in the middle of the room, halfway turned towards her, stare fixed on a glass cabinet, fists pressed together.

“Edwin? What’s wrong, you find something?”

She walked up to him. There was nothing of note in the cupboard, only a few mass market souvenirs and other knick knacks, nothing that screamed occult or even antique.

“Edwin?” she asked again, putting a hand on his arm to nudge him gently.

He flinched away and gasped, then actually took a few steps back from her, his eyes darting around wildly, settling on her face for only a moment - “Crystal,” he murmured, barely audible - before flickering away again, scanning the whole room.

“Edwin, what was it, what did you -” see, she wanted to ask, but at that moment, Edwin had pushed a hand over her mouth.

He had stopped again, looking in the direction of the sofa as if it might get up and swallow him. Apart from the obvious, something about him was off. It took Crystal's brain a second to notice that he wasn't breathing, his form unnaturally still. Sure, he didn't need to breathe, strictly speaking, but the fact of the matter was, he normally did.

“Edwin?” she tried again, muffled by his hand.

He took a few careful steps away from the sofa, taking her with him, but bumped into a chair, letting go of her and stumbling backwards until he reached the back corner of the room in a haste completely uncharacteristic of him.

It was only then, when he slid down into a crouch as if to make himself as small as possible, that Crystal finally recognised this for what it was: Edwin was having a panic attack.

Fuck. She had never dealt with something like this. She'd seen a few movies before in which people experienced trauma flashbacks, but somehow she didn't think a slap to the face was a real-life solution.

She needed Charles. But Charles could be god-knows-where in this pretentious fucking house and she could not leave Edwin sitting here. She debated shouting for him, but making a sudden loud noise was probably not gonna help this situation.

“Okay,” she whispered to herself. “You got this.”

She kneeled in front of Edwin, blocking his view of the room. “Edwin, can you hear me?” she asked as quietly as she could.

He didn't respond, eyes searching frantically for something behind her.

“Edwin, you're alright. You're in London. I'm here, Crystal, and Charles is here as well. We're on a case.”

“Charles,” Edwin mouthed, looking around the room as best he could and pressing his knuckles together hard.

“I know. I know. He’s in this house, I promise, he'll be here any second and he'll do a much better job calming you down.”

Edwin started rocking then, back and forth, back and forth, and Crystal was starting to doubt herself. Was this a panic attack? Or a meltdown? Edwin was probably some flavour of autistic, right? Was the difference important? Was there a difference?

“Edwin, calm down. You're in London, on a case, in the house of some old fuckers in Belgravia and I promise you, you're safe. Edwin, do you hear? You're fine, you're safe. We're all safe. Me and Charles and -” Niko, she had nearly said, but Niko was dead. “and you're fine too, okay? Charles is gonna come find us in a second and you're gonna be alright.” She was tearing up. Fuck, she couldn't be losing it right now, she had to take care of Edwin first.

Then she suddenly remembered that you're supposed to help the person breathe slowly, right? Only, Edwin was of course not breathing at all. Shit.

“Edwin. Edwin, listen to me. You need to take a deep breath, okay? Can you do that for me? Just take a deep breath.”

He looked at her, still rocking, still pressing his fists together, and didn't breathe.

“Please, for me, okay? Just one deep breath. I promise it's gonna be fine if you just breathe.” She inhaled deeply, held it a bit, then exhaled, which, yeah, okay, helped calm her down too. She should keep that in mind for the future. She did it a few more times and finally, Edwin took a deep breath with her.

“That's great, you're doing great, another one, okay? In - and out.”

He followed her instructions for a bit, but then, for no discernible reason, suddenly squeezed his eyes shut and knocked his knuckles together in a way that made Crystal wince. God, she wished Charles was here.

“Edwin, hey, look at me. It's gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine. You're in London, you're safe, you're -” Fuck, why didn't she think of that earlier? “You're not in Hell anymore. Charles got you out. Nothing can get to you anymore, the Night Nurse said so. You are not in Hell, Edwin, you are never going back, okay? You're in London and you're safe. Charles saved you.”

And finally, she seemed to be getting through to him. He breathed deeply, and opened one of his eyes to look at her, really look at her.

And then she made a mistake.

On instinct, she reached out - she didn't know why - to steady him maybe or to make him look at her? She reached out, lightly gripping his arms in an approximation of a hug and Edwin lost his shit.

He pushed her away with a force she didn't know he was capable of, his rocking got faster, frantic, and he hit his knuckles together again and again and Crystal wanted to cry.

“I'm sorry, Edwin, I should have asked. Just listen to me. Let's start breathing again, okay? You were doing so good! In - and out. In - and out.” Oh god, she was actually starting to cry. How was she supposed to help him breathe if she couldn't do it herself?

“It's going to be alright,” she said through the tears. “You are not in Hell anymore. Charles saved you. You're safe. You're never going back again. Charles is in the house, he'll be here any moment. You're in London and you're with friends and you’re safe.”

For a long time, nothing changed. Edwin kept rocking and Crystal kept speaking. She moved on to other topics at some point, talking about the case, her mildly successful flat hunting and even Jenny whom she got gruff updates from every week or so.

Then finally, finally his hands stilled, his eyes opened and he was beginning to breathe again.

“You're doing so good, Edwin. In - and out.”

He looked at her, over her shoulder, then twisted his head uncomfortably towards the window. Crystal followed his gaze.

“It's still dark out,” she narrated, for lack of anything else to say. “It's windy and cloudy. London weather, yeah? It was raining when we came here. I'm hoping it's not gonna start again.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes finding hers.

Crystal could have shouted for joy. It was the first sign he understood her since she found him.

He was still rocking and he still had his knuckles pressed together, but he seemed overall calmer, his shoulders relaxed and breathing normally.

“Crystal,” he said, more an exhale than a whisper, but it was a word.

“You back with me?” she asked him.

He nodded. “I -” he started, then swallowed, shook his head.

“It's okay, you don't need to talk. We’re just gonna wait for Charles and then we'll go home, I think. Can I sit here with you?” She pointed at the wall next to him.

He nodded.

Crystal moved to sit beside him (finally getting the weight off her knees - she was only sixteen, why did that hurt?) but then as she did, realised that now Edwin would see whatever had upset him in the first place.

But he seemed to have the same thought, because he was stubbornly avoiding looking at the sofa or the cabinet, just kept rocking calmly as if he had forgotten he was even doing it.

And then - finally - Charles came in.

“Oi, I've been looking for you every-” He trailed of. “What are you doing on the floor?”

Crystal looked at Edwin, not sure how to phrase her answer without upsetting him.

But it was him who answered instead, lifting one hand to point vaguely in the direction of the couch.

Charles looked at it, then cursed under his breath, “fucking dolls.”

Dolls? Crystal wanted to ask. Sure, there were three child-like dolls sitting on the sofa, drowning in decorative pillows, and there probably had been one or two among the stuff in the cabinet, but she thought they were having other problems at the moment.

Charles came towards them, a strange half-pitying, half-furious expression on his face. He crouched down in front of Edwin. Crystal noted that he positioned himself differently than she had done, glancing behind himself to check that Edwin would still be able to see the door.

“Edwin. You're in London. It's 2023. You are safe, okay?”

Edwin nodded.

“Can you speak, mate?” He asked, keeping his voice very soft.

Edwin shook his head again, but his lips twitched a little, as if he was trying to smile but failing.

“Okay, but you understand me? And you're breathing. That's good.”

“Crystal,” Edwin mouthed.

Charles smiled widely and looked her way for a second with a strange sort of wonder.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing. You're brills, is all.”

Crystal didn't feel brills. She felt pretty useless, actually.

“Can I touch you?” Charles asked Edwin.

He shook his head.

“Okay, no touching, got it. Can you get up? We'll go home, yeah?”

Edwin stood slowly. If ghosts were able to faint, he would have keeled over. As it was, he took a few gasping breaths and blinked rapidly, but stayed upright.

“Brilliant, mate. Crystal?” Charles offered her a hand.

She got up and together the three of them made their way to the hallway, where an ornate mirror was hanging on the wall.

“You good getting back alone, Crystal?” Charles asked.

She nodded, wondering why he even asked. It's not like he would have left Edwin if she had said no.

Charles nodded, glanced at the mirror and frowned. “You're gonna have to take my hand, mate. Or grab my sleeve at least. I don't really trust you to travel right now. It's just gonna be a second.”

Edwin stared at Charles outstretched palm for a moment before gingerly gripping the material of Charles’ jacket.

“Right. See you at the office, Crystal.” He smiled at her and they were gone.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. What a night.

-

When she got back to the office an hour later - she had taken a little detour to get food - everything seemed completely and utterly normal.

It made her feel weird.

“Crystal!” Charles called from where he and Edwin were sitting on the couch.

But then she noticed, no, everything wasn't normal.

Edwin was still wearing his coat even though he was in the habit of taking it off in private. But most importantly, he wasn't reading. Instead, it was Charles, lying on the sofa with his feet in Edwin's lap, who had a book in his hands.

She decided not to mention it and nudged Charles, who sat up to give her some space and then promptly lay back down, occupying her lap as well. 

She glared at him playfully and got a bright grin in return. It made her feel better.

“Crystal,” Edwin said. He was still so quiet, as if afraid of making noise. “I want to apolo-”

“Oi,” Charles interrupted.

Edwin sighed his annoyed bitchy little sigh. Crystal had never been so happy to see it.

“I do not apologise, because it wasn't my fault and I did my level best,” he corrected, clearly repeating a conversation she had not been present for. “I want to say thank you instead.” His voice was dripping with honesty. “For being there for me and waiting it out.”

Crystal shook her head. “I fucked up, I touched you and you -”

“You couldn't have known,” he interrupted, as firm as was possible without raising his voice. “I never - we never -” He took a breath. “For the future, yes, ask me or warn me at least, if I cannot respond. Or if I don't react at all, refrain from doing it. But as it was, you could not have known and I do not begrudge you trying your best to help me.” He found her eyes. “You talking to me, breathing with me, it meant a great deal.”

Her vision went a little misty. She really needed some sleep. “Happy to help.”

They were all three of them silent for a few seconds.

“So it will happen again?” she said.

Edwin looked away.

Charles waited a bit for him to answer and when he didn’t, said, “Probably. It used to happen all the time, when we first got to know each other,” when Edwin first escaped Hell, he didn't say, “It's gotten loads better over the years, but with everything that's been happening …” He shrugged.

“Can't we do something?”

Edwin scoffed bitterly, an ugly little noise.

Charles looked at him a bit sadly. “Not really. There are triggers, of course, situations to avoid. There are … Edwin?”

Edwin shook his head, not turning around. “Go on,” he said. 

Charles looked a bit uncomfortable, but did as he was told. “Most of the time it's dolls. Baby dolls, porcelain dolls. They've been falling out of fashion, but you don't even know how many people still got them until you're trying to avoid them. Spiders, from time to time. Green lights, long hallways.”

“The sound of paper ripping,” Edwin added, nearly too quiet to hear.

“Right.” Charles regarded him quizzingly, but didn't ask. “Vomiting, sometimes, and crowds. Skin on skin contact, obviously. It's … it's happened before when he was held down. And sometimes …”

“And sometimes it makes absolutely no sense at all,” Edwin said, something bitter in his voice that just seemed to mask his fear. “Sometimes I'm sitting in the office reading and suddenly I'm … back there.”

Charles nodded, held out a hand.

Edwin looked at it for a moment, then took it, intertwining their fingers.

“What I wanted to say,” he continued, “is that you did a top whole job, Crystal. I know it's scary. So thank you.”

She laughed wetly. “I’m trying.”

And finally, Edwin smiled.